I met Marvin about four years ago, at of all places, a bris on the Upper East Side. He was charming and witty, a guy that any kid would love to call "Dad." I wasn't sure whether I should call him Mr. Knopp or Dr. Knopp. I was raised in an Italian family and respect is very high on the list of things I was taught. After much internal debate, I settled on Dr. Knopp; after all, he was one of the planet's most brilliant matematicians. Well, you can imagine the reaction he had to that, so I decided to just call him "handsome." I called him "handsome" every time I saw him.
I always enjoyed my time with Marvin. We talked about so many things: the Black Sox scandal, why Ray Milland was NOT listed in Maltin's movie guide, and about Einstein, one of my favorite subjects. It turned out to be one of his, too. I know a lot of old movies, old actors, and old songs, thanks to my mother. Marvin was often surprised at my knowledge of things that came before my time. He would ask me if I had seen this movie or that movie, some relatively obscure, and I would say " yes, that starred so-and-so actress or actor." He was always amazed and appreciated the richness of the moment. That was Marvin.
The last time I saw him, Marvin drove Elana and I--which was an experience all by itself--to one of his favorite places, Heimie's, a little Jewish deli in Narberth. He laughed, made jokes, and sang some very wonderful old songs. He was eating blintzes with sour cream, one of his favorite things. It was a great time. Being with Marvin was a great time. I feel a richer person having known him. He was the father I never had.
I will miss him. I hope he is sitting with Albert right now discussing the universe and how his ideas may have been expanded.
