I will always cherish Bernie’s kindness and friendship. 

Everyone at Kaji Aso Studio Institute for the Arts, is saddened by the passing of Dr. Bernard Yudowitz. We are thankful that he was our generous and benevolent landlord for 42 years. He and our founder, Mr. Kaji Aso,  understood that art is a peaceful and important part of society. 
In 2015 Dr. Yudowitz made a long-time dream possible when Kaji Aso Studio became owners of the building where the studio started and continues. This past November Kaji Aso Studio celebrated its 45th Anniversary and we are deeply grateful for Dr. Yudowitz’s longtime support and encouragement.  A permanent plaque in his honor hangs in the front hall among Kaji Aso Studio’s awards and recognitions. Dr. Yudowitz is part of the history here and his goodness will be remembered for generations to come.  We send our deep sincere sympathy to dear Mrs. Yudowitz, Anne, Michael, Martin, Lawrence, and his extended family in this time of grief. 
-Kate Finnegan, Executive Director KAJI ASO STUDIO

 December 11, 2018
In loving memory of a wonderful person. We will love you and miss you always.
~ 
John Kluznik,
White Bear Township, Minnesota


 December 12, 2018
Dr. Yudowitz was an extraordinary human being, a kind gentleman, a caring physician, and a force for good. He will be missed and will not be forgotten. My thoughts are with his lovely wife and family.
~ 
Elizabeth Strother,
Florida


 December 12, 2018
Evelyn, Mack and I were so sorry to hear of the passing of your husband. May your happy memories provide you much solace.
~ 
Linda and Mack Rosenbaum,
Florida


 December 16, 2018
I have known Dr.Y since 1988 as an employee and a close friend. He was a wonderful man, and was incredibly supportive of everyone around him. Dr.Y helped many people through his business. He supported them medically as a physician servicing thousands of clients though out his long career. His business of psychiatric residential facilities housed and assisted numerous people with mental illnesses.

On the other hand I also knew him as a person. Being new to the country Dr.Y was instrumental and helped me establish myself in the Boston community. He was always there when important events happened in my life and supported me through hard times. For example when I was trying for my citizenship he stepped in and said he wanted to be there, and not only did he show up but he also drove me there. I have always looked up to him, I've always respected him and am proud to have known him I his life.
~ 
Ronaldo Santos,
Watertown, Massachusetts


This year, my husband and I went to Poland and brought back from my homeland a bottle of Slivovitz that is made locally in Gdansk by a Jewish family.  This past Yom Kippur, my father and I quickly got Zeda’s photo and quickly said “L’Chaim” as the 180 proof liquor burned down our throats.  This wasn’t so good for dad since his diet at this time was primarily ensure but tradition is tradition.  Upon dad’s passing, after a kiss on his keppala, mom, chris and I got Zeda’s photo and raised a glass and said “l’chaim”.  

I’ll finish by sharing one more story…, a few years ago, upon arrival in Florida, I ordered a pizza from the back seat of the taxi as my parents and I were going to their condo.  Without a second thought, I ordered a mushroom pizza.  When we arrived and I was helping the driver get our bags out of the trunk, he said to me “your father is a lucky guy”. I asked why and he told me that there is no way his children would have any clue as to what toppings he likes on his pizza.  I am so glad he shared this with me but he was mistaken…I was the lucky one. 


   In the recent months, we would blend salami for my dad and, yes, he still enjoyed it!  In dad’s last few days, he asked for yoo-hoo and coke.  Since dad got a feeding tube, he hadn’t had anything by mouth for 5 months so I had bought Pepsi on the last soda run.…Dad, I am sorry!  When I put some in his mouth, he made such a face and if he could, I know he would have said “pheh”!

Since I was the only girl, he would always remind me that his grandmother, my namesake, came to America with only 2 personal possession….a Mahzur which is a prayer book and a meat pot, making sure I knew how important it was to continue tradition.  He instilled these values in us by keeping a kosher home and having large Shabbos meals together every Friday.   He always made sure the Mahzur was at the table for holidays, keeping the generations present.

L’Dor V’Dor….from generation to generation….Dad would tell us stories of his relatives and show photos of relatives in the “old country”.  I regret that I didn’t listen so carefully or write things down because now I am stuck with albums of lost memories and history.  I do have his personal items to piece together but that is just the life of my dad.  But what I can guarantee, is that I will carry on a tradition which I think started with my father’s father.  After every Yom Kippur, Zeda would walk into the house and say “bring me my Slivovitz”.  Not sure where this tradition started but since grandpa passed 27 years ago, every yom kippur, Dad says “bring me the photo of Grandpa and the slivovitz”.  

Being that Dad was getting sicker, I had permission to start emptying the house.  Dad holds onto everything; at first, I resented that since it just meant more things to get rid of, such as his Saddle shoes in the garage and Michael’s childhood Donkey rocking horse in the attic which had become homes for mice.  This sentimentality was difficult to accept but as I chose a box a week, I found things that I would bring to my dad.  At first, he wouldn’t turn off Anderson or Wolf to look at what I had found but then, the tv would turn off and I would hear stories such as “that is the broken billy club that Officer Bob gave me”, “those are the swords I widdled for Boy scouts”.

Last week, as I was looking for winter coats in the cedar closet, I came across a blue jacket on which his name was embroidered which led to finding out that he belonged to DeMolay, an international fraternal organization for young men ages 12 to 21.  I was no longer upset about these boxes piled up in the attic and cedar closet since they were the key for me to engage dad in conversation about his past.

Coke, yoohoo, salami and cheese were my dad’s staples growing up, I remember he would quickly down a cup of coffee for breakfast, skip lunch and then before supper, have a slab of salami or a chunk of cheese.  He would eat that snack so quickly that once he didn’t realize that he ate Pongo’s worm prevention pill which was wrapped up in a piece of cheese. Salami….there was always a sandwich for my dad…either in the fridge, in my mom’s purse or in a suitcase…ready for when he was hungry.  Well, a few years ago, at Logan, my father and I couldn’t find my mother.  Apparently, she went back to the TSA since her name was called on the intercom to claim her bag….well, a whole salami was nicely wrapped up in tin foil which security who wouldn’t touch since the nitrate levels were off the charts; you can just imagine what they thought it was.  

Friends were dad’s family and their children became friends of mine.  My father was often contacted in time of need, friends trusting him with his opinions, insight and love to guide their children; over the years, this led to having many of his friend’s children come vacation at our Cape house, dig by his side in Israel, work at internships in Boston, get the appropriate medical care and provided with the emotional support they needed.  My father stood for the true meaning of friendship.  He has instilled in me this importance of friendship and I have extended it to the next generation, having had these “children” to my house for Passover Seders and visiting them on my travels.  Over the past year, his friends and their children have all called, emailed and visited, helping my dad greatly as he entered the next stage of his life….

Parkinsons hit my dad at age 68.  He kept working up to 5 years ago, not letting it stop him. Work was my father’s passion and Parkinsons took that away from him.
Parkinsons is a horrible disease. It caused non-stop tremors, hallucinations and difficulties with swallowing…and it brought chaos, yet, for me, it brought me my dad.  It brought back dad’s stuttering and took away his strong sense of control and organization. He wasn’t able to initiate a movement quickly or get things he wanted on his own.  He became dependent on caregivers and lastly, wasn’t able to enjoy my mother’s cooking which he had for over 62 years.   

But, It brought back a young Bernie and brought me a chance to get to know a man I always called dad.  I began to understand his actions, his motivations and the reasonings behind his decisions.  A sense of humor and trivial stories were added to our conversations.



As an avid reader, he majored in English at Cornell and the endless magazine subscriptions and 20 filled bookcases in his library are proof.  Dad played the sax and clarinet in the school bands, leading his family to enjoy to for over 40 years season tickets to the Boston Symphony. And…. the annual Met Opera regional auditions.  This was our thing, father/daughter…I would get dressed up and we would sit in Jordan Hall with pencils in hand, discussing the performances.  I loved how he would listen to my opinion and, at the end, we would see who picked the winners.  I hadn’t gone for over 20 years and when I returned to Boston 5 years ago, Dad and I quickly picked up where we left off.  When I looked through the program, I discovered that for over 40 years, dad had been honoring me by listing my name as the donor.  

Having tickets to these activities was a way for Dad to share his interests and to provide us with a life full of experiences.  At home, he built a pool and tennis court….again, since he didn’t know how to swim and never picked up a racket, this was for the kids.  We were always his assistants… With gardening… I learned how to drive on our riding mower and with all household repairs…and that didn’t mean just our house in Brookline…staining the deck at Dwight St, hanging up curtains at Lexington, draining out the basement of Babcock.  These skills have been very useful with both my brothers completing the decks, cabinets, floors, tiling, etc of their properties and myself, proudly owning power tools and ready to tackle any project before calling a professional.  

My dad also shared his love of history and archeology, bringing each of us to Israel to dig and if one can't be in Israel, you set up a site in your own backyard…We used rope to plot out squares around a native american watchtower that was in our yard and then used an old rabbit hutch to sift thru the dirt.  All pottery shards and bottles had to be labelled.


He does what he has to do and then moves on to the next project….well, move on he did…back to United States.

My parents returned with Michael in arms and mom ready to have me in a few months.  After some time in Newark and Queens, they settled down in Lexington where we lived for several
years, with Martin and Lawrence later joining the family.  We moved to Brookline, a larger house, which enabled Dad’s father, Grandpa Louis to live with us….he added much needed comic relief to the busy life that was happening with 4 children and over time a menagerie of dogs, cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, mice, gerbils, hamsters, lizards and goldfish, yes the goldfish….while getting his piece of salami from the fridge, Dad looked over at the fish tank and noticed a goldfish had just turned over…well, yes, he performed CPR….it didn’t work….and it was during the winter….so, we found a little jewelry box and kept it in the freezer until we could give it a proper burial.

The next 30 years became quite busy with my father working at McLean, establishing Wild Acre Inns, directing the Pain Unit at New England Rehab, overseeing Psychiatric services at Bridgewater State Prison, teaching classes at local universities, seeing private patients, managing his real estate business in Glasgow, working with the State of Massachusetts on services for mental ill, studying to become a Forensic Psychiatrist to then testify as an expert witness at trials across the country.  I am sure I am forgetting something.  
When not working, Dad would go to Celtics and Red Sox games. He was never an athlete and blamed it on his large size as a boy. The ironic thing, with Parkinsons, Dad was boxing 3 times a day as well as having a personal trainer.
Dad loved the arts.  He performed in many high school plays, finding he could express himself dramatically and with no stuttering.  As kids, we went regularly to Ameican Rep Theater and all the musicals.  

He replied “yes” which led to a series of stories and Dad re-connecting with friends.

Then, Dad went off to Cornell with Ron Ganeles, a friend from Peekskill being his freshman roommate.  He brought with him this sense of community, creating the Kosher co-op with a few Jewish students at Cornell in 1952.  Off campus, this group ate meals together as a family; they arranged for meat to be delivered from Rochester and enjoyed conversations over a nice meal.  Well, this love of food and community led my father to make kosher food available in all cafeterias on Cornell Campus.  Locally, he also helped support the kitchen at our temple’s Hebrew School.

Also, while in College, my father joined the National Students Association to address student issues and policies in colleges across the country.  This took him on long road trips, making friends at colleges in every state, Charlie, Amy, Maurie.  

After undergraduate, my father began law school at Cornell. This came to a halt when his mother became sick with leukemia.  He returned back to Peekskill, this time as a newlywed, to help his parents navigate thru this horrible illness, a fight his mother lost in 1958.  From Cornell, Gil, Joel, Jerry…  all there to help.

Then Medical School….Glasgow, Scotland.  Again, Dad created several communities around his interests and beliefs. Of course, synagogue, his medical school classmates, especially his cadaver partners (Turner, Tansey, Ward and Womersley) and his Professional Housing tenants and staff.  Well, as expected, my parents are still in close contact with everyone, despite the distance across the pond, having attended every bar mitzvah and wedding in Scotland and visiting those who have emigrated to Israel.  A few years ago, I lived in Glasgow for a summer and had Dr. Womersly over for tea.  He told me that his classmates would study together at my parent’s flat; Dad would quickly tell the answers and then run off to manage a flat.  I realized then that my father hadn’t

Hello Family, Friends and Colleagues of my Dad, Bernard Yudowitz.
I must let you know that I will not be looking up from my paper since, as I found out on Thursday, that if I do, I will probably not be able to finish.  With that said, on behalf of my brothers, I will begin.

Three days ago, we buried my father in Peekskill, NY surrounded by his fellow childhood classmates, community members, friends,  and, of course, family.

Peekskill has always held a special place in my father’s heart since it was a small community on the Hudson river where he was able to enjoy school, band, theater, nature, boy scouts and synagogue and to help out in his father’s Cotton goods store.  Peekskill was also close enough to Brooklyn so weekend trips to visit the relatives were a regular thing; he even had his bar mitzvah there since it’s all about the mishpokhe.  I never met many of the relatives but when there was a need, Dad would be the first for them to call. I always heard stories of them, being too far to visit in NY and CA so one night when home for college break, Dad told me to pack a bag since we would be going to Florida the next day…I was very excited to finally meet an uncle.  Even though it was just for a day, Dad wanted to spend time with him before he died and I got to see another side of dad, a kid voraciously chatting with his uncle about protests, McCarthyism and family.

Being an only child, he embraced the friendships he created in Peekskill, still keeping in touch with everyone.  Colin, Jimmy, Ronnie, Shirley, Judy, Nancy, Terry…too easy to name these childhood friends of Dad’s from when he was 5 years old because they were household names and frequent visitors to this day.  Even as recently as this past August, Peekskill pops up. My husband Chris was walking our dog down our driveway in Wellfleet when a woman came up to him to ask to confirm what her father has been telling her for 40 years….”does a “Peekskill man live in that house?”  He replied “yes” which led 

My family and I will always have such dear memories of Bernie.   He was one of my father's closest friends, and one of the kindest, smartest and most generous men I know.   Bernie and Joe.  Dear friends for life.  And, they were quite a pair together - whether  in person or listening in on one of their many hour long phone calls to each another.  Their conversations consisted of all sorts of topics - their  love of their family,  business endeavors, finance/ investments, their East Coast adventures (Boston/ Cape Cod and Florida) and their joint love of Glasgow, Scotland.  Bernie, our family will never forget that special last trip you took to say goodbye to my Dad, Joe McCue two years ago.  Your love, kindness and compassion are second to none.  Love to Evie and all of your children and grandchildren.  You will be missed by all of us.  We love you. 

Bernie has been a lifelong friend of the McCue family and will be greatly missed.  He was always there for our family and was a great friend to our Dad.  Family visits to Cape Cod and Boston are just a few of the memories with the Yudowitz family.  We will miss you Bernie.... Our thoughts and prayers to the Yudowitz's during this difficult time.

Clare, Kevin, Cartney and Ellie Reuter

Bernie and I were second second cousins our grandmothers being sisters. Our mothers were great friends and his family would come regularly from Peekskill to visit his grandmother who lived in the same apartment house in Brooklyn as my family did. We became good friends. We were both in medical school at the same time and our paths cross at Maimonides Hospital in Brooklyn as part of our medical training. In recent years we would have an annual but too short visit in Wellfleet on Cape Cod. His was a life well-lived and highly productive. Our conversations turned quickly political and philosophical. I was always fascinated by his accounts of archeological digs in Israel. I have always had great admiration for Cousin Bernie  and will miss him. My love to Evelyn and Annie

 I've known Bernie for 80 years, thru elementary,  high school and  Cornell (as Roommates) and there was none to compare to his intellect, dedication and loyalty to his friends, beliefs and family.  We will miss him.



Bernie was a valued member (and President) of our class at Medical School in Glasgow. He was an inspiration to us all. I last saw him in 2016 when he, Evelyn and Anne flew to Scotland to attend our 50 year Medical School reunion. It was wonderful to share a table with the family at the celebratory dinner. Rest in peace old friend.

                                  I knew this man.   His life was a shining beacon of positive strength and determination in making something good out of nothing.   He was motivated by a Judaic discipline and the constant support of a devoted wife.
At this sad moment, his family must take comfort in knowing wherever his Evelyn, his Anne, his Michael, Martin and Lawrence are gathered together, his presence will always be there with them since there is so much of him in them.
Much sympathy and love to Evelyn and the family.
Cassim and Kate.



Many many fond memories of Glasgow and Cape Cod to take comfort from on this sad occasion . A friend of outstanding ability, compassion and humour.  Condolences and much love to Evie and family.

Oh Bernie. I remember how much my Dad loved you as a friend and I remember visiting your homes when I was young and you being so welcoming. And making it out to Seattle to say goodbye to my dad meant so much. You are in my thoughts and will be missed.

My deepest sympathies to the family.
May Uncle Bernard rest in peace🙏.
All my love,
Dianne L.  Greenstein

May g-d comfort the family amongst all mourners of Zion and Jerusalem-
Dr Yudowitz was an amazing individual. Did charity with a smile. He as well loved when I came to make Jewish holiday programs at wild acre inns-

OBITUARY

Dr. Bernard S. Yudowitz

December 5, 1933 – December 11, 2018

Stanetsky Memorial Chapel

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