One of our dearest friends was born on Easter Sunday 1925 – and his 95th birthday coincides this Sunday with Easter again. I am dedicating today’s blog to him since flowers, visits, presents, are all taboo on the grounds of the pandemic.

And anyhow, who wants to blow out 95 candles…..

I had the joy to attend his 90th birthday party where he was feted in style. I wish I could remember all the speeches honoring him, but you know my brain… cousin to a sieve. Luckily we can hear the man himself – here is a recent interview that describes his involvement with the founding of the ACLU of Oregon and his trajectory in life.

Paul is a Yale-educated attorney who has been actively involved in the fields of civil liberties, progressive politics, city government, opera and chamber music groups and numerous Jewish organizations. He served as a machine gunner in the infantry during WW II (70th Oregon trailblazer division from 1943-1046 and was wounded in the last battle of the bulge in Alsace Lorraine in January 1945 (he received Purple Heart and bronze star for his valor.) Well, that’s the official description that you can find if you look for the announcements of awards, too numerous to list here.

My personal description is that of a Mensch, deeply rooted in the Portland community, a man who delights in story telling and jokes, can roar with laughter and melt you with his smile. When I learned that he was born as one of three brothers in St. Louis, Mo., I immediately associated the bridge of that city with his inclination to build bridges, both in his work and in his civic engagement.

During the time that I got to know him it was clear that family means a lot to him – not just as an idea, but in close and actively pursued relationships, with his children (sorry David, did not get a picture of you two ever,) his brother Roger, who died in 2013, and of course his beloved wife, Alice, who makes it ALL possible, forever has.

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I met Paul and Alice around 2005 at the Oregon Jewish Museum, an organization that they have strongly supported since its inception. Friendship grew fast, and shared places – living in New York, his formative experiences during his WW II time deployment in Germany, a love for the beaches of Manzanita – and shared subjects – from politics to the law – were the focus of many of our conversations.

One topic we more than agreed on: not only do we both have a passion for music but we know it is at its core more than passive listening – it is a communal art, at its truest in shared enactment. Paul sang late into his current age and, I may add, singing his heart out. Whether he joined the traditional Boarshead procession and chorale at Reed College,

or sang in the core chorus for Jacob Avshlamov’s Messiah, he s a n g. Well, what do I know, maybe he sings just as much today, in preparation for Happy Birthday (or for timing the ritual hand washing of these times…) I was told that he was also a guest conductor at the Portland Baroque Orchestra on his 75th Birthday, conducting the 1st movement of Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony. Before my time in the Meyer household, but I would have loved to have heard that.

I have taken many portraits of Paul over the years, but here is one of my favorites of last summer. Don’t let the softness of the face fool you about the steely intellect underneath, or the laugh wrinkles about the determination to pursue some of his main goals in life: justice, fairness and civil liberties. The wistfulness in his gaze encompasses true caring for humanity.

Here is my musical selection for him on this day: Paul might have actually sung it in high school with Paul Robeson, who also has a birthday this week. It is a message of unity that found a receptive ear in 1940. Sounds like a birthday wish for our own times to me!

Happy Birthday, dear Paul.