Remembering My Father

Written by Elise Cooper on Friday December 11, 2009

Hannukah is the celebration of heroes. For me, there is no bigger hero than my dad, Eliezer Czerniak.

Hannukah is the celebration of heroes.  For me, there is no bigger hero than my dad, Eliezer Czerniak.  He was a part of the “greatest generation” and had a very interesting and fulfilling life until last week when he succumbed to cancer.  About fifteen years ago, he was diagnosed with chronic leukemia and given a prognosis of four years. His beating the odds should be no surprise since he stood up to adversity throughout his life.

He was born in Rovno, Poland in 1923.  Shortly before the Nazi invasion of Poland, his father sent him, his mother and two sisters to Palestine.  Unfortunately, after the war, he was informed that the Nazis buried his father alive.  I could never get him to talk much about that period of his life.  People who knew him described him as even-keeled, easy going, and calm, even though he had to endure such emotional issues.  However, one event stands out in my mind and it was then that I knew how big of an impact the Holocaust imprinted on him.

As a freshman in college I was asked to analyze Mein Kampf.  I asked my dad his opinion and the response he gave was so uncharacteristic.  He threw the book across the room and yelled, “How can you analyze such an insane man?”  His actions spoke louder than any words –he and I silently looked at each other and at that moment, I learned a lesson I will never forget: be passionate about my beliefs.  There were numerous times just he and I would sit together and discuss the War on Terror. When discussing what was happening to the CIA, he remarked to me:  “they complain about the harsh interrogation used against the terrorists and they call that torture.  Well they don’t know the meaning of the word—I had to endure the Holocaust –let’s keep this in perspective:  there is definitely a disconnect.”  It was through his encouragement that I decided to write articles.

Recently, while waiting in a doctor’s office, we had one of “our talks.”  He told me about his life as a Zionist, fighting for what he believed in by joining the Israeli underground forces, the Haganah and then the Palmach in the 1940s.  Reminding me that the Palmach was an elitist, very clandestine group, he swore me to secrecy until after his death because “no one is allowed to talk about it.”  He told me that he was recruited by his Haganah commander to join the Palmach.  Jokingly, he commented that when he arrived at the first meeting, all those present were “tall and buff, but I was skinny and of medium height. To put it lightly I felt a bit inferior.” Being one of the best sharp shooters, he was designated as a sniper.   He then dropped another bombshell: He was a gun runner for Israel while in the United States.  He recounted going to the New York ports to smuggle guns on ships heading for Israel.  He was never caught because both the police and union longshoremen either looked the other way or helped.

Throughout his life my dad continued to amaze me.  Despite never having received a high school diploma, he was accepted to Columbia University and graduated with a Masters in civil engineering.  His peers talked about him as a visionary in the area of engineering computer software.  During the late 50’s and early 60’s, he pioneered the use of computers to do calculations that were previously done manually.

He never liked to brag but during some of our talks I found out he was the lead structural engineer for the Northwest Alaskan Pipeline project.  He frustratingly noted that to be an effective manager, he had to deal with the environmentalists, the government, as well as the hostile ground conditions.  I marveled as he explained the feat of constructing a pipeline over 800 miles of terrain that ranged from floodplains and river crossings, to steep mountain passes while taking into account the permanently frozen sub-soil, earthquakes, and animal habitat.  The solution was to build the pipeline both above and below ground.  I later found out that he must have done a good job considering that in 2002 there was a 7.9 magnitude earthquake where the pipeline slid as designed instead of breaking.

Wanting to depend less on Arab oil and being an intricate part of the Alaskan pipeline, one would think that he would want to drill in the Alaskan tundra.  However, that was not the case.  He emphatically, pragmatically stated that there was no way a pipeline could be built there.  The terrain (very poor soil conditions) would not support it and the cost would be exorbitant.  What was his answer to becoming energy independent? Nuclear power. It is clean, efficient, and, with the advances in technology, safe.  “Just look at France,” he constantly pointed out.

As I was going through some of his papers, I found something he wrote in the early 60’s.  “Thanks to scientists and engineers of great vision, that do not pay attention to the prophecies of doom but stick to reasoning we designed the world’s largest nuclear power house.  Thus, the power that is needed to use the new substance is enormous, but so is the return.  The power which is given to us through its use is almost without limit.  Science marches on.”

Hannukah is called “the festival of lights.”  My dad lightened my universe with his knowledge, stories, and discussions.  It is surreal for me that I will never have the opportunity to sit down with him and enjoy our quality time together where we shared opinions.  As the end came, it was just as before, me and my dad.

Category: News