Montefiore, Rothschild, and Adelson's names are written in the golden book of the rise of Zionism in the new era. And I had a privilege of knowing Adelson. And so did you: Each and every one of the readers of Israel Hayom, which he founded 13 years ago with his life partner, Dr. Miriam Adelson, the paper's publisher.
I first met him in 2008. A month ago, at his home in Las Vegas, we had what turned out to be our last discussion. In both instances he was sharp, wise, precise, but mostly concerned about our future. Even when his health started to betray him, it was important to him to stay updated and know what was happening in Israel and to the Jewish people who were so dear to his heart. Our first conversation focused on the country, and so did the last. Everything else was everything else – add-ons that served the goal.
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People liked to affiliate my dear boss with various and sundry politicians, but his real, deep, emotional connection was to Zionism. He admired every Jew who contributed to the holy mission. I was always amazed at how modest the man was. He could wonder at a kid who arrived in Israel as part of the Taglit-Birthright program and wanted to tell him a story; be moved by a conversation with a Holocaust survivor at Yad Vashem, one of the institutions to which he donated. A rabbi, a farmer, a doctor, or a bus driver – he would treat them all exactly the same way, listen to them the same way, pay attention to the little details. And it always amazed me, every time. Simplicity and honesty, qualities that are given to the truly great.
A huge donor who was an expert at giving in secret
Let's not make any mistakes, he also knew how to be tough. His philanthropic activity, some of which I saw from up close, was no less important to him than his business activity. Sometimes I felt as if the genius businessman in him was destined to serve the great donor he was. At various opportunities, when he was in various moods, I looked at him and saw he was focused only on excellence and helping others. Only recently, his private plane flew Jonathan Pollard to Israel. A few other such flights were never reported. Because aside from the billions he gave away, he was also an expert at donating in secret.
December, 2015, Las Vegas, at one of the drug rehabilitation centers managed by Dr. Miriam Adelson. It was the eve of a holiday. The Adelsons were wearing their best clothes and arrived for a meal with the center's patients, about 100 men and women, all of whom were in recovery from drug addiction. These were poor people who needed help. Mr. Adelson sat at the head of the table, talking to them, shaking their hands, taking pictures with each of them, taking an interest, joking, hugging.
I was there, and that same evening, some very high-ranking politicians came to see him. The US had just gone into an election year. One of Mr. Adelson's staff members went up to him and reminded him that a few of his grandchildren were waiting outside, and he told her, smiling, "You don't see that I'm with my friends right now?" That might be the strongest memory I have of him, and it includes so much of the man, as he truly was.
The Israel Hayom newspaper is part of the departed Mr. Adelson's legacy. How symbolic that his beloved wife, Dr. Adelson, is your paper's publisher. Trembling in awe, I accepted the role of editor-in-chief from the hands of founding editor Mr. Amos Regev. I knew that working for Mr. Adelson was a mission on which I could not fail. To serve you, the people of Israel, is Mr. Adelson's legacy: Always working for you and for us.
Last week I visited his home. This time, unlike our last meeting in November, we couldn't have the conversation in which I was supposed to update him on what was happening, but actually, it was he who – sharply and brilliantly – explained processes and events to me. A week before the US presidential election, he predicted the results exactly, and knew how to explain the reasons for them.
I was also by his side when he waged his last battle, the one he couldn't win. This time, it wasn't up to him. I thought to myself, I'm approaching the moment I most feared from the moment I accepted the job of editing the paper: to edit the edition that reports his passing.
And now, with the quietness and professionalism he would expect of me, I am editing the sad edition you are reading now, which is entirely his, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I find my greatest comfort in the fact that my publisher is his second half, Dr. Miriam Adelson, whose presence here with us is meant to let us know that he is still with us. Even if Montefiore and Rothschild are now spending more time with him.
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