June 16, 1920 – March 12, 2020
To know my father was to love him. Clem Goros was born June 16, 1920 in New York, the city. He was the son of two immigrants, Morris and Esther Goros. They came from the turmoil of Latvia in the early 1900’s, along with their families seeking a better and more peaceful life in America. It’s no wonder my father was an extraordinary man, his parents were extraordinary individuals. My grandfather Morris was known to be an extremely kind and virtuous man, unfortunately he passed before I got to know him. My grandmother Esther was determined and hard working, she was the most loving person, and had a wicked sense of humor. My dad was the baby of three boys, it was Al, Sol, and Clem, and my father had so many stories describing their adventures and hijinx. They spent their youth swimming and fishing in Jamaica bay. Between their many misadventures they developed a love for music, jazz, ragtime, and big band. My father also had a great love for animals which was demonstrated by the number of stray dogs he brought home when he was a boy. That love of animals continued throughout his lifetime.
He played the trumpet, but throughout his life learned to play numerous other instruments as well.
My father was a veteran of World War II and listening to his stories, it was clear that he developed an understanding and an empathy for others as to the inequities in this world.
After the War, my dad, taking advantage of the GI Bill, attended Brooklyn College where he met my mother, Betty, as he tells it, he was taken by her long blonde hair and long legs. My father decided to take up the honorable occupation of teaching and secured a teaching position with the New York City Board of Education. Teaching was his passion and he was good at it. Incidentally, both his brothers became teachers as well. As the story goes, my parents got married, moved to the suburbs of New York, and my father ended up teaching Physics at Far Rockaway Senior High School. Those years were filled with family visits and summers in the Adirondacks, Bear Lake, Vermont, as well as other destinations. Barbeques at Uncle Sol and Aunt Ruth’s and Steak cook outs at Uncle Al and Aunt Norm’s, playing badminton and going to the beach. That is, until my father retired and my parents decided to pick up stakes and move, and move they did. To make a long story short my parents ended up in Carlsbad, New Mexico. Since my father’s retirement he’s kept himself busy selling real estate and teaching at various colleges. But his main passion has been his grandchildren (other than politics). Several years ago his granddaughter Nickie, had a terrible accident which left her with a traumatic brain injury as well as other physical injuries. He and my mother moved close to her to assist in her recovery. The bond between my father and his grandchildren has strengthened during that time and cannot be put in words. He left behind children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. He also left behind an extended family, living in various parts of the country, who looked forward to his long and entertaining phone conversations. We will all miss my father.
- Funeral Service Thursday, March 19, 2020
- Committal Service Thursday, March 19, 2020