“My late husband wished me to re-marry,” said Judy Brown, “but it took me sixteen years. At first, I couldn’t even think about a second marriage, and then when I was ready, there was no one waiting in line to meet me.”
A busy New York State Assemblywoman finds time to do some matchmaking.
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She was a New York State Assemblywoman on a personal, not a political, mission – to find the perfect guy for her best friend, Fran Reid. She had someone in mind for Fran – Gary Bixhorn, Chief Operating Officer of Eastern Suffolk Board of Educational Service. But Gary, a recent widower, was still in mourning and wasn’t ready to hear any talk about dating. “Basically, I cut her off,” says Gary.
Yakira Wiesel was the only girl on the crowded rooftop of a rickety bus. She was in Nepal, on a nine-hour ride, heading toward the Frozen Lake Trek. She heard some of the guys speaking Hebrew, which was comforting for a 20- year-old Israeli girl. When the bus began to shake, she turned to one of them and asked: “Can I lean on you?” Michael Azulay, who was 23 at the time, was happy to oblige. He recalls: “I immediately felt an attraction.”
They had been friends for about six years. Lauren Karmely thought she would marry someone like Michel – his name is pronounced the French way. Then she began thinking of marrying him.
Lauren had invited Michel to a Sukkot party, along with other guys, family and lots of girlfriends. They dropped off a friend and were left alone in the car. He suggested a cup of tea at Dunkin Donuts. “It wasn’t a date,” says Lauren. “It was just tea among friends.”
Neurotic Jews who share chemistry, a birthday and 'hair solidarity' connect despite starkly different careers.
Jewish Week Online Columnist
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“We’re both neurotic Jews with roots in the New York area,” says David Jacobsen. “We share the same birthday, adds Lisa Schwartz. “And we have the same hair,” continues David. “We have hair solidarity.” According to the matching algorithm of an online dating service, David and Lisa were compatible.
In her classroom, Michal makes the rules and sets the example. But at a speed dating event, she evaded the guidelines and joined a workshop for younger women. The move changed her life.
At age 30, Michal Levi had already spent a decade on the dating circuit. She was on various mailing lists and received an email about speed dating – done differently. The program was called Hamifgashim (translation: meetings). “I wasn’t really interested,” recalls Michal. A married friend encouraged her to register.
Lital Mosan happened to be in the right place to find her future husband. All she had to do was go to work every day.
Lital was working in the mayor's office at the Jerusalem City Hall. For months, she would enter the pretty stone municipal complex and greet the security guards on duty. It was just “hello, hello” each time. Security guards – many of them young and unmarried – are omnipresent in Jerusalem. They are generally seen but not often noticed.
A 50-year-old bachelor chooses to marry a widow with seven children. “It’s like I was bungee jumping,” says Gil Efrati. “And the Almighty himself was pushing me along.”
Elisheva Chai believed she’d always be a widow. “I never thought I’d reach this day of a second marriage.” In December 2009, her first husband, Rabbi Meir Avshalom Chai, was murdered as he was driving to their home in Shavei Shomron, a religious Zionist settlement about 11 miles northwest of Nablus.