Victor Michael Levin

Victor Levin was born in 1928 in Johannesburg, the third of three sons of Alice and Sam Levin. Alice died when Vic was 5 and he was brought up by his maternal aunts Janie and Bella, the sisters of Alice Smith, until Sam married Mona.

Vic was studying draughtsmanship when the call came to help build the fledgling State of Israel and he spent 4 wonderful years working on Kibbutz Tzorah and serving in the army.

Vic had already met Zena through the Habonim youth movement and after two years she joined him in Israel. They were the first South African couple to get married on the Kibbutz. He married Zena on April 17, 1952, and family travelled from South Africa to attend the wedding.

Vic and Zena hitch hiked through Europe before sailing back to South Africa and settling in Johannesburg, where Roni and Alan were born. They relocated to Durban and lived in Durban North, where Dana and Jules were born.

The raised their children in Durban. Zena suggested the move to Sarasota in 1979.

Vic loved being handy and built a wonderful workshop at their home in Thirlmere Place, Durban North. Beautiful furniture came out of that workshop. He was a wizard at fixing broken appliances for his beloved in-laws. He loved mowing his lawn and reading, especially about submarines. He blazed through three Kindles. He had a wonderful sense of humor.

Hiking was a big part of what we did as a young family. Once we got lost overnight in the Drakensburg mountains, Vic searched for us through the whole night and burst into tears when we were found. I never heard a swear word pass his lips. He was fond of dogs but never tolerated cats. He worked till the age of 80. Losing Mom was terrible for him. He nursed her exquisitely when she became frail.

Vic is survived by his four children, Roni Snitcher, Alan Levin, Dana Scher (pronounced “Donna Share”), Jules Levin; his grandchildren, Adam Snitcher (London), Tessa Harari (Rosh HaAyin), Maia Sanchez (Venice, FL), Alice Dunnam (Sarasota, FL), Moses Levin (Berlin, Germany), Shirel David Levin (Haifa), Ariel Joey Levin (Jerusalem); great-grandchildren, Adam Snitcher (London),Tessa Harari (Rosh HaAyin), Maia Sanchez (Venice, FL), Alice Dunnam (Sarasota, FL), Moses Levin (Berlin, Germany), Shirel David Levin (Haifa), Ariel Joey Levin (Jerusalem); and his great-great grandchildren, Lila Snitcher, Josephine Snitcher, Ella Rae Harari, Liam Harari and June Dunnam.

We love him so much and hope he is at peace with Zena, our mother.

Victor. Victor Michael Levin. Vic. Daddy. You had no recall of your mom, Alice — she died when you were 5, and you grew up in Johannesburg, South Africa, informed by your exposure to Zionism and socialism in the Habonim youth movement of your times. After you made aliya to the newly independent state of Israel around 1950, followed by Zena, to be married on kibbutz Tzora, you followed her back to South Africa to bear your four children.

One old fireside version has it that you never really wanted children per sé, but you wanted Zena so badly that you got 4 children, from whom you learned to escape through the diligent cultivation of a thriving and industrious carpentry hobby in your workshop out back on Thirlmere Place in Durban.

Not a religious man, you made us attend shul until we were of bar mitzva age, "so that we would have a choice". You saw your nest emptying of children, saw opportunity and emigrated to the USA, and made a go of it as a naturalized American. You made new friends in the new country.

You learned to be very proud of your four children, and you expressed this in words, your appreciation of their public service, the librarianship, the lifeguarding and nursing, the journalism, the social work. You made the transformation to the computer age, and rigged your printer.

You rejoiced in grandchildren. You cared for our mother in exemplary manner. Even after mom died in 2016, and it appeared that joy no longer visited your heart, yet still did you retain your excellent humour.

And your principles: MAKE NO ASSUMTIONS! Fiercely independent, your body slowly starting to betray you even as your mental and emotive capacities improved as you entered your ‘90s. On the summer solstice one month ago your heart gave out. You called for us, your children. We came. It seems to me that you saw us working together as a team around you, worthy of your trust, and you allowed us all to say our love, our care, our gratitude, varying elements of leavetaking...and you could finally let go, knowing all is well, and we will survive you, as it should be.

Personally I am not saddened. To me you lived life fully, and after a wonderful innings you are released from pain and suffering and loss, from all planetary indignity. The mark you leave on the world is unique and fine. We love you, daddy. We are gratitude. We rejoice in your life.

Hamba Gahle daddy.

Baruch dayan emet