One murder is one murder too many, said South Africa’s Chief Rabbi, Warren Goldstein, at Wednesday’s funeral of Sheldon Cohen, who was shot at Balfour Park in Johannesburg on Monday night. In the past year, three of my friends have been killed by criminals. That it is three murders too many is only the beginning of the anger I feel.
Vastly different in origin and their role in society, these three people all in their own ways represented humanity at its best:
Michael Rosenthal, a gentle giant who managed a filling station near Soweto for many years without ever feeling he was in danger, was shot for his old car in suburban Johannesburg in front of his loved ones. For weeks, he fought for his life in hospital, and his death made no headlines, but was no less devastating to countless people who had been touched by his many unique strengths;
Lucky Dube, known and loved by music lovers throughout the world, was shot for a car in front of his children in the southern suburbs of Johannesburg (a tribute to him appears here);
Sheldon Cohen, who touched the lives of so many South Africans as a family man, community leader, businessman, investor and mentor, was shot for a cellular phone as he waited for his son to finish a soccer game.
The three had one thing in common: they were among the most humane individuals I knew. The eulogy at Sheldon’s funeral included the comment that he was blessed with the gift of abundance, referring to his attitude that there was always more he could do and give. He was a firm believer in the future of South Africa. As was Lucky. As was Michael.
But there was one other thing all three had in common: they had vast dreams for themselves, and for the future. The past was a foundation on which to build a brighter future.
Ironically, Sheldon had begun to explore the online world of social networking shortly before his death. He had first taken me under his wing as my editor on the campus newspaper, Wits Student; years later, we would briefly collaborate when he became a dot.com investor during the first internet boom — some of the start-ups he backed are still out there; and then last week, after he had joined the LinkedIn online network, I checked in with him to find out if he had a new mission in life.
He replied: “I am trying to extract that book that I have always had in me. I am making some art and playing around with some investments. And I am working hard on my personal evolution in all dimensions. So far … fantastic!”
His achievements had been enormous — much has been written about them elsewhere — but he still had a passionate desire to become a better person. That impulse to keep learning, growing and improving, and to love life itself, is a powerful legacy he has left, and is some comfort.
But the destruction of dreams such as he had leaves us with no comfort. And in every murder we see dreams destroyed. Not only of the victim, but also of the family, the relatives, the friends, the admirers and all those who share a dream of a country in harmony.
Sheldon, rest in peace, but let those left behind rage at your passing.
The fools who killed you and Michael and Lucky are destroyers of dreams, and we rage against them. Our leaders, who so readily accuse us of disloyalty and worse when we demand action, are traitors to our cause of a better South Africa, and we rage against them. The government, which is bound by the Constitution of the country to protect us but cannot, is a collaborator in the destruction of our dreams, and we rage against them.
That the loss of such promise, such vision, such forces for improvement of our society, can occur so easily, so randomly and so regularly, shouts out to us how fragile our dreams have become. We must rage against that noise, before it drowns out the dreams that remain.
Arthur, my sincere condolences on the loss of your friends. Just yesterday I was reading on News24 about Sheldon Cohen’s murder and I felt so despondent and sad to read about yet another senseless killing.
Your words about the destruction of dreams strikes a chord in me. I feel that we all die a little bit inside when yet another innocent person becomes a victim of the cruel and senseless violence in our country.
Thabo Mbeki said it was only a perception that crime was a problem. I think I had some time for him until he said that.
You did not mention if Sheldon’s murderer was apprehended, but his is another life wasted and dream destroyed. What a horrible nightmare for everyone.
I too struggle to shake off anger and despair when faced with another such tragedy every second day or so. There is a surreality that exists in daily living running in parallel with such horrors. I wonder if perhaps we are aware of the danger our normalcy is in. At what point do corruption and crime become self-reinforcing? At what point do we make the transition from a society of hope to a society of desperation? What price is patriotism when such horrors are commonplace? A rise in interest rates or even a power crisis are not as limiting as a lack of liberty in your own land.
Arthur, what a touching and affectionate tribute to your friend. I can sense the rage and grief between the words of your post, and yet you have expressed your thoughts so calmly and with such grace. An excellent piece of writing.
Devastating!
Just one quick comment: The mere fact that some “party animals” have been pushed up the comrade ladder doesn’t necessary qualify them as leaders. Whether somebody who has been voted into a party or government position has leadership qualities can only be assessed on the basis of performance. In fact, most of the time I don’t see any leadership qualities in MPs or government reps. Geez, just check out what’s going on in Italy at the moment. The frequently heard demand for more respect “of our leaders” is nothing than a sign of no leadership at all and actually quite poor. A leader who has lost the respect of his followers, who does (s)he lead?
I was at school with Sheldon , I live in Sydney since 85 and have always yearned for SA as Africa is part of me and I am part of it – No more , I turn away in disgust and openly say to my friends and family – that was the last straw- time to go
Gary Meyers
Fairways primary , Highlands North and King David High
RIP Sheldon – S Africa didnt deserve you.
Apparently, our rage is impotent
After our last trip back to SA, just a few weeks ago, we returned to the USA reluctantly, the place of our self-imposed exile for the past 25yrs, the birth place of our children, but still, always like strangers in a strange land. Then we heard of Sheldon’s murder, and remembered, sadly, why we’re here and not there. Indeed, Cry, the beloved country. Where will this all end? Be safe Arthur…
Arthur has written this piece beautifully. It describes the life of three men that I personally did not meet.Mike Rosenthal,however,was shot in front of my beloved sister Heide. She had found true love in Mike, “The Gentle Giant” and she too has had her life altered forever. I have been truly haunted,by the senseless murder of Mike 7 months ago.I thank Arthur for documenting the lives of all three of these special men. I feel that each senseless death should be brought to public attention, regardless of who the individual is.This is an atrocity to all of those who mourn the loss of these incredible men. It is also a deep sadness for all of us who want to love and see South Africa thrive, even from abroad… Natalie, Vancouver Canada
Arthur
Another sad day for all, even living thousands of Kilometers away in Sydney we feel the pain and suffering of our beloved country and people.Back in 1993 prior to 1994 elections I was living overseas but decided to return to SA and try and build our new counrty ,after building a succesful bussiness I decided I could not live the way I was living ,on alert 24 hours day watching and waiting for an attack, I lost many friends and have had my own family attacked in my parents home in Johnannesburg wilst on holiday a few years ago.
My thoughts to all those people who are thinking of leaving becuase they are GATFULL of all the corruption,crime.Stop thinking about it and do it, get out now .The grass is greener on the other side.I did my national service for 2 year back in the eighties , built a bussiness employed and educated people and gave it all up .People think of us as traiters and cowards for leaving , but think again for your life and for G-D sake your kids.As I type this letter to you I glance at a picture on my wall of my dear friend Gerald Fox and know I did the correct thing by leaving .
G-D Bless
Brett Yudelman
My heart aches to hear of the sadness and waste of life of one of Sheldon Cohen. I remember Sheldon from High School and the memories of life in those days was so intense yet so real. We all had such high hopes for life… we thought when the revolution had come & gone we would have a blissful country where we could live in peace and freedom.
Linked with this idea, are also memories of Lucky Dube, who I knew in the 80s, as he played bass with my musician boyfriend, Gary (who took his own life). So much creativity, so much sadness. I remember sitting on Yeoville ridge with Lucky and Gary looking down over Ponte, Joubert Park, Hillbrow… eating toasted chicken sandwiches at 3am at the Dolls House in Louis Botha Avenue on the way to the next party. Yes, what stories there were to tell and what “jols” in Rocky Street, Rumours, Talking Heads, the Market Theatre, the Roxy and Jamisons, where the white/black line was crossed. So many memories!
I immigrated to Canada in 1994, but was so unhappy that in 2003 I forced my husband to sell his successful business and moved back to Cape Town with my kids. I could not shake that magical feling of Africa, where the dusty orange sunset made me feel alive, bursting out of my body. ALas, after 4 years of realising I was living in a dream we cashed in every last cent I owned and returned to Vancouver, where I have finally made my peace.
We returned to SA with the best of intentions – Leon was planning to open a training school for metalworkers, I was intending to work within the HIV community as a counsellor or para-legal advisor. Unfortuntely, we didn’t fit the affirmative action agenda – the people we met felt we had nothing to impart, either through pride or ignorance. I became tired of feeling guilty for being white. Eventually, I saw no future for my kids, for even if they completed High School, where would they study?
Yes, much of the blame does line with the politicians. I have first hand knowledge of how they spend their day. Eating turkey dinners, entertaining Bafana Bafana, hostings mini-trade shows with Zim and Zambia. The offices are empty with a couple of secretaries typing. I even saw a minister urinating in the courtyard, while entertaining his relations on a parlimentary tour.
Instead of closing the borders to every ex-mercenary and genocidal maniac and other poor refugees who are desperate for food and shelter… these politicians point fingers at white people to take the blame.
You know, I so feel for all the good, kind and open-minded spirited citizens of that beautiful tragic land – I came back and paid my dues and in my heart will always suffer pangs of homesick sadness, but my practical mind has convinced me that, even if only for the future of my children, I have made the right decision to leave.
G-d Bless Afrika – Mother Continent of Us All – so kind; so cruel.
Johnny Clegg said it all: “We ARE the scatterlings of Africa”.
Just found Sheldon’s business card. I met him once on a flight to London. We talked hours about our .com adventures. He was really a special guy. Googled to see where he was at. Then read the shocking news. It was enough that I met him once. My heart aches for his loved ones. My you be secure in the eternal love of God.
I was sent this and other articles by a friend of mine who lives or lived in Gauteng. She was picking up her boys in this same parking lot as Sheldon was being murdered. Three months later she was a victim of a violent home invasion which took place April 19th. She was supposed to immigrate here to the United States in late August early September of 2008 and contact me to inform me she and her children were safe. I’ve never heard from her and haven’t been able to contact her as all her South African contact numbers were disconnected and her homes were sold. I fear the worst but hope for the best with prayer each day. The woman’s name is Lisa Kaplan and any help would be greatfully appreciated. I just want to know she’s alive and okay. Sincerely, Scott Rotter
I forgot to leave my email address.. Scott Rotter… [email protected]