Raymond Benet (Benoit Raymond Benezra)

Raymond Benet was born in Cairo, Egypt, July 1, l918. His parents Avramino Benezra and Victoria Hazan named him Benoit Benezra. Benoit and his Hebrew name both mean “blessed”…and blessed he was. He was the seventh and youngest son of seven brothers. His Sephardic Jewish ancestors migrated from Toledo, Spain to Izmir, Turkey to avoid the Spanish Inquisition. His parents and many relatives left Izmir for economic opportunity to settle in the ancient Jewish section of Cairo. Most of the family were merchants and had stalls in the bazaar. Like most young Jewish boys, Dad attended Cheder, the traditional Hebrew school for young boys. After his Bar Mitzvah he was sent to the Jesuit Catholic school where he boarded. In those days the Jesuits offered the finest upper education. However Dad did not like school and quickly dropped out. The bazaar and his motorcycle were far more exciting to him! Dad and his family spoke many languages, such as Arabic, French and their home language Ladino—a kind of Hebrew/Arabic/Spanish language. In addition he spoke a little Romanian, like his Grandfather.

His brothers from oldest to youngest were Maurice, Henry, Jacques, Paul, Robert and Joe. Jacques who died of diphtheria in his early twenties was the scholar of the family and because their father, Avramino, was often away on business, became the father figure. Dad never forgave Jacques for forcing him to study. He harshly disciplined him by locking him in a darkened closet. Childhood activities included climbing the pyramids, milking the goat on the apartment balcony, rough housing with his brothers and running through the merchant markets.

Dad’s father traveled to the U.S. for the World’s Fair, where again he and some of the older boys ran a booth. Being very successful, they bought several gross of fancy bejeweled perfume bottles. After the day’s fair, they would spend their evenings pouring cheap American perfume into the fancy bottles, re-labeling them with exotic French names and a fancy price! At the age of 19, Dad, Paul and their mother arrived in New York City in January l937 to join their father and elder brothers. When grandmother disembarked there was shocking news. Their father had committed suicide. Grandfather had a long history of intermittent depression. He had painted a picture of vast wealth and he couldn’t face his wife because of the financial losses he had incurred. Grandmother and the boys shared lodging and all the boys scrambled to make ends meet and take care of their mother.

When Dad was 24 years old he was on the subway and spied a spectacularly beautiful blonde young woman. By “coincidence” they both got off the same stop and Dad followed Mom up the steps. When they got out on the street he noticed she had no ring. He grabbed her arm and boldly said “no ring? You are going to be my wife.” Mom thought he was nuts and ran to her apartment. She told the door man “don’t let that man upstairs.” Being a shrewd operator, Dad watched the elevator dial stop on the fourth floor. He ran up all the flights and knocked on all the doors until Mom opened her door. Dad returned with a big pot of chicken soup to gain Mom’s favor. It was the Great Depression, pay was lean and she was lean! What could be better than a big pot of soup! Dad’s mom was angry since she had intended it to feed her boys. The rest is left to the imagination.

Mom and Dad were married in the City Courthouse in Manhattan, December 24, l942 at 10:25A.M. Dad had gained the favor of Denise, a close family friend. Denise had recently arrived in New York penniless, but she had a real knack for entrepreneurialism. She had a wedding gown factory and was able to help start some of the brothers in business. She gave Dad a loan to open a hosiery business on Austin Street in Forest Hills, Queens. Dad astutely took advantage of “The Nylon Era.” During the war, silk stockings practically disappeared and the new nylons were in high demand. Women would line up to buy this precious commodity and Dad did well.

Shari was born when Mom and Dad lived in an apartment on Burns Street in Forest Hills. As a baby Shari remembers Victoria, Dad’s mom, leaning over the white pom pom bed spread. Dad was saving money for a house. Becoming an overnight success, he opened two other nylon stores and a bought a large house in Garden City complete with a large slobbering red Irish setter named Brach. Mom would put Shari on the dog’s back and pick up Dad from the train station. Debi was born during this time. Mom felt isolated in the big house and they bought a new house on Roman Avenue in Forest Hills where Susan was born.

Dad was an incredible family man. On Sundays he took his daughters to the kiddy amusement park on Queens Boulevard and fed us cotton candy. Afterward, we sometimes visited Paul and Rae and cousin, Alan. Whenever we would see Dad walking close to home, he would open his arms and we would run to greet him. He encouraged our sweet tooth with black licorice “Nibs” with a camel on the box. Peter Pan Bakery on Continental Avenue was a favorite escapade. Needless to say our decayed teeth required extensive visits to see Dr. Vairo…and this was before novacaine…ouch, thanks Dad!

Dad was a bit of a wild driver. He especially enjoyed zooming up and down the hills on the two lane highways in our 1951 blue Pontiac. Mom would squeal nervously and put on her brakes! A converted backseat with a mattress took us out West before any interstates were built. One trip we crossed Death Valley in the middle of the day with no air conditioner. Mom and Dad were truly adventuresome!

Searching for his next endeavor, Dad went to work for Royal Typewriter Company. In 1955 our nomadic phase began. The house on Roman Avenue was sold and everything went into storage. We “migrated” to West Palm Beach Florida for the summer to investigate the possibility of opening the first Howard Johnson motel. Dad decided against it and we moved back to Queens and lived in a small apartment. The following year we bought a house in Schenectady and Dad went back to work for Royal Typewriter. He detested memorizing his sale’s pitch and Susan told him to open a candy store! Instead, we moved to Forest Hills Gardens, New York and bought the house on 19 Ingram Street. Dad opened his own very typewriter business on 32nd street in Manhattan.

He became the top distributor for Royal Typewriter and won trips to Japan, a Lincoln Continental Mark IV, and Mom’s fur coat. These were his highly successful years. Mom dressed us girls to the hilt so we could enjoy our family Sunday dinners. A favorite place was Patricia Murphy’s on Long Island and an occasional jaunt to Bully Boy’s in upstate New York. Saturdays Dad took us to the Automat. We put quarters in the machines and the little door would open presenting hot beef stew and corn muffins as favorite fare. Family vacations included trips to Colorado and the West, Minnesota, where Mom’s family resided, and Vermont to the Von Trapp Lodge. One of our favorite places was the chicken farm in Vermont with home-made food. During one vacation in Massachusetts, Dad rode a wild horse in an arena. The horse reared and while most would have fallen off, Dad’s determination and intelligence put the horse in check. The daughters enjoyed chasing the chickens and singing happy birthday to them! Large family gatherings over holidays, Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter, put Mom to work to create amazing home-made dinners and pies. Many relatives hoped for their special invitation to sit at the dining room table laden with crystal and china.

Dad was a huge risk taker and loved to occasionally gamble at the casinos and horse tracks. Investing in the stock market and playing options was a huge interest. On one family vacation Dad gambled and lost all the vacation funds.

In 1974, Mom and Dad purchased a condominium in Palm Beach, Florida which eventually became their permanent residence. A year later, Dad’s doctor informed him that his business was too stressful and he needed to retire to preserve his health. He sold the business on 32nd Street to William a former employee. Mom and Dad moved to Colorado and bought the house in Genessee at 903 Gilia Drive, where he continued to play the stock market. Mom and Dad would enjoy daily walks together throughout the foothills. They spent time in both Colorado and Palm Beach. Initially Dad enjoyed walking on the beach, and eventually sat on the bench watching the ocean. Eventually they sold the house in Colorado and lived in Florida full time. Debi and Susan were living in Colorado with their families and Shari lived in Arizona with her family. Annual family cruises brought the whole family together. The first exciting cruise was to Alaska. Eventually travel became difficult for Mom and Dad and all cruises were to the Carribean which suited the grandchildren beautifully. Often all eight of them—Eric, Laura, Christopher, Bryan, Michael, John, Christian and Jennifer—entertained all of us and themselves with humorous antics. Remember the wheelchair?

Dad and Mom truly enjoyed their independence and alone time together in Florida, with occasional family visits. In March of 2010, they traveled with Susan and Gary by train to Colorado to visit. They arrived in Denver, March 15 in a minor snow storm.

Family gatherings were at Susan and Gary’s house at their round table in their dining room. They would sit there eating mangoes reminiscing about when Dad would buy 20-30 mangoes in Florida and heartily enjoy them. Dad’s incredible sense of humor continued throughout his final days. When he was in critical care at the hospital he looked at mom and said “This is the worst vacation I have ever had”! When James the attending nurse came to check up on Dad, he asked, “How are you breathing?” Dad, always the wise guy responded “My breathing’s fine, how’s yours?”

As everyone who knows our Dad knows he hated the IRS with a passion! It should come as no surprise then, that Dad picked 2010, the only year when there was no inheritance tax to make his departure. Yes sir, he avoided the taxes! Dad died on Tuesday, May 25th at 8:30 P.M.

Dad, we already miss you…your stubbornness, your defiant independence, your love and support of your family, your humor and laughter, and your passion for all of us will remain our treasure forever. On behalf of my mother, my sisters, the grandchildren, all the family and friends we thank you for being in our lives.

And I thank all of you who have joined us today for your loving presence as we honor the life of Raymond Benet.