Remembering Martin M. Fogel BY JACQUELYN FOGEL
J ust got the word that my Dad, Martin M. Fogel, died on Sunday, January 6 in Tucson. His goal was to live to be 100, and he would have been 99 in August. He nearly made it! He was a bril- liant, funny, intense and always interesting man. He trusted everyone and had friends in every corner of the world. He grew up in pov- erty in the ghettos of New York. At 16 he fol-
be tapped into the ways of things to come. He loved the study of watershed management, and knew he’d always have work to do because everything alive needs water. He mostly taught the value of getting an education and the value in world travel to meet people from other cultures, with different ideas. He remained a die-hard liberal until the end, and I always loved talking politics with him. He enjoyed watching his beloved Yankees, and U of A bas- ketball—and any other sports show he could find on televi- sion. He had dabbled in minor league baseball as a boy, and fell in love with all sports. He adored his Bedlington Terrier, and often called to tell me how lucky he was to have him. As his hearing failed, we talked less and less on the phone—but there was always a spiritual connection between us. I don’t think it was an accident that we were sharing din- ner in Milwaukee with one of his cousins, Nancy Sandler and her husband Mitch Sandler, and their niece Shifra Rothenberg when he went into the hospital Saturday night. He loved the idea of family, even if the reality of getting a tiny, widely-dis- persed bunch of relatives together was impossible. I love you Dad. You touched so many lives with your sto- ries of hope and possibility. I will be in Arizona soon to wish you Godspeed in your new adventure.
lowed his father out to Los Angeles where he worked in a tire factory—and learned the value of getting an education. He studied at some of the finest universities: UCLA, Berkeley, University of Minnesota-Minneapolis, South Dakota State, and finally finished a PhD at the University of Arizona where he taught in the Renewable Natural Resources Department for decades. He was always a thoughtful leader, and seemed to
(left) My daughter, Andrea Rich holding her son Colden Green. Her other son, Kian Green is on the right. My Dad flew into Milwaukee from Saudia Arabia the day Andrea was born, and he was at her house in Phoenix the day they brought Kian home from the hospital. He always said that the best part of teaching was being around young people all the time because they kept him young. He adored kids, and even adopted an Indonesian teenager with a story when he was in his 70s.
“HE ADORED HIS BEDLINGTON TERRIER, AND OFTEN CALLED TO TELL ME HOW LUCKY HE WAS TO HAVE HIM.”
210 • S how S ight M agazine , J anuary 2019
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