The Memorial Wall

You entered HaShem's Kingdom peacefully May 14, 2024 with Daniel and me at your side.  Born August 20, 1946 in Berea, OH, you were the eldest son of the late Charles W. Showalter, scientist with the Atomic Energy Commission, and Genevieve (Bullock) Showalter, mother, secretary and successful entrepreneur ("Gene's Costumes").  In your youth, you lived in many places, but considered yourself a "southern boy" from Oak Ridge, TN.  Armed with a BA in history From Lehigh University and two masters degrees from the University of Pittsburgh, you set out to live your life.  In addition to your parents, you were predeceased by former first wife Barbara (Remen) Showalter.  You are survived by spouse Paula D'Auria-Showalter and Spinel, our black lab mix (Pioneertown, CA); brothers Bradley A. (Nancy) Showalter (Phoenix, AZ) and Jonathan L. (Loris Gielczyk) Showalter (Santa Cruz, CA); sons Charles W. Showalter III (Pittsburgh, PA) and Daniel J. (Patricia Hredzak) Showalter (Verona, PA); grandchildren Heather, Gwendolyn ("Winnie"), "Jack Jack" and several nieces. Interment will take place at the Tower of David,  Forest Lawn Memorial Park, Cathedral City, CA. Memorial contributions may be made to the Parkinson's Resource Organization (parkinsonsresource.org) and to the American Heart Association.  

You were employed, among other positions, as an assistant buyer  for Gimbel's Pittsburgh (furniture and bedding), an educator (Pittsburgh yeshiva) and as an alcohol/drug therapist (Aleutian Tribes Corp. in Cold Bay, AK).  Strongly feeling the need to help the disadvantaged and disenfranchised, you actively volunteered assisting the Pittsburgh homeless and worked as a trauma counselor.  A member of the Morongo Basin Democratic Club, the Morongo Basin CERT (Community Emergency Response Team) and the Morongo Basin Sexual Assault Services, you dedicated your life to giving back.  You enjoyed contributing as a volunteer educator for Desert Oasis Health Care, teaching the "Healthier Living Workshop" and "A Matter of Balance" classes with your wife.  "Well, hello there!" Who could resist that effervescent personality and smile as you strolled into the classroom sporting your red straw fedora and carrying your book bag?  Into politics, you proudly recounted being beaten by Chicago police while demonstrating during the 1968 Democratic convention.  Faith was extremely important to you as a member of Chabad of Rancho Mirage and Temple Isaiah Palm Springs.

A devoted follower of Bill and Dr. Bob, you were fond of saying, "The only meeting you need to attend is the one you don't want to."  Being of service to others was paramount in your life.  You established the Yucca Valley "House of Hope", a sober living house for women, and a housecleaning service, "Aaprons, the fine arts of housewifery", which you later paid it forward to those in recovery. A voracious reader especially of Civil War and WW II history, you visited all of the eastern and southern Civil War battlefields with Danny, enjoyed all types of music (playing the flute, piccolo and recorder) and were an eclectic art collector.  You enthusiastically waved the "Terrible Towel" at every chance for the Pittsburgh Steelers, your favorite football team in good and bad years.  You were witty, intelligent and creative.  You designed greeting cards, were always writing and researching topics of interest and constantly curious about the world.  More than once you only half-jokingly declared that anyone would want you on their Trivial Pursuit team.  We met in the fall of 1997 through a tiny " dwm seeking d/swf" ad placed in a village rag.  You were selling Alaska, and I was buying.  We corresponded and by Pesach 1998, I traveled to Cold Bay, AK to accept your proposal.  Back in PA, I sold my home and its contents, secured a position as Home Health Director for tiny native Kanakanak Hospital and moved to Dillingham, AK.  On July 9, 1998 we were married by the Court.  You were miffed that we married in the morning. We shared wedding cake with Yupi'k Native Americans by noon and by afternoon I returned to work!  We were amateur rock hounds.  While other couples had a favorite song, our favorite "rock" was labradorite.  

Judith Oppenheimer, an award-winning author, journalist, teacher and great wit, passed away peacefully in her sleep on Wednesday, May 1, in Northwest Baltimore. She was 82.

Judy was born to Jeanne and Ralph Altman at Columbia Women’s Hospital in Washington, D.C., on Jan. 20, 1942. She lived on Simms Place in Northeast D.C., a diverse and lively neighborhood, until she was 9, when her parents moved the family to the Northern Virginia suburbs.

In 1959, Judy graduated from Washington-Lee High School in Arlington, Virginia, and majored in American Studies at George Washington University, graduating in 1963.

She then began a long career in journalism, landing a job at The Washington Post as a “copy girl” that led to a Post internship, both positions that generally went in those days to white male graduates of Ivy League schools.

Judy became a reporter at the Post before taking a job at the Philadelphia Daily News in 1966. There, she worked as a film critic and was one of only two women reporters on staff.

Judy met and married Jerry Oppenheimer, an investigative reporter at the Daily News. After their first son, Jesse, was born in 1969, they moved to Washington, D.C., where Jerry got a job with the Evening Star.

Over the years, Judy’s writing for the Village Voice, Washingtonian, the Washington Post Magazine, Salon, The Forward, Moment and other publications earned numerous awards.

As a reporter and senior editor for the Baltimore Jewish Times, she traveled to Argentina to cover the aftermath of the 1994 terrorist attack on a Jewish community center in Buenos Aires. She also wrote a cover story about Henrietta Szold when the Jewish Museum of Maryland presented an exhibition of the pioneering Zionist leader’s life and work in April of 1995, as well as a profile of Holocaust survivor, author and Nobel laureate Elie Wiesel.

“Judy was truly a journalist’s journalist and a one-of-a-kind human being,” said Jmore Editor-in-Chief Alan Feiler, who worked closely with Oppenheimer at the Jewish Times. “She didn’t mince words and called it like she saw it, but she was a person with a big heart and a love of life and family and people. She also was hysterical and loved to laugh. So many people loved her.”

Judy could turn the most mundane assignment into a lively read. As editor of the Montgomery County Advertiser, she brought sharp and amusing writing to a free suburban newspaper.

Judy’s writing also reflected her profound emotional intelligence. In a tribute to her late cousin, feminist and cultural critic Ellen Willis that appeared on the First of the Month website, she wrote about how important it was for the two of them to sit close to one another:  “I guess it was a way of saying without words, You know how much I’ve always loved you, don’t you? You know how important you’ve always been to me, right? How much I’ll miss you, forever.”

In 1989, Judy’s first book, “Private Demons” (Ballantine), a literary biography of writer Shirley Jackson, received a glowing review in the New York Times Book Review. More than the acclaim, though, Judy said her biggest thrill came from researching and writing the book.

Her second book, “Dreams of Glory” (Summit Books), published in 1991, chronicled a season in her son Toby’s high school football team.

In the late 1990s, Judy entered a master’s program designed for journalists interested in teaching at the University of Maryland, College Park, where she taught four classes per semester while carrying a full course load and earning a 4.0 grade point average. She was a natural teacher who loved working with students.

Judy loved good writing of all kinds and was an ardent advocate of  direct, economic, un-showy prose. With her sharp insights and sharper wit, she was an engaging conversationalist who listened carefully and lived for laughter.

She was devoted to being an extraordinary writer, but more importantly, a wonderful mother, daughter, sister and friend.

Apart from some short interludes in Philadelphia and Baltimore, she lived her entire life in the D.C. area.

Judy is survived by her sons, Jesse and Toby; her grandchildren, Max, Louise and Julien; her sister, Ida; her nephew, Koby; her daughter-in-law, Josee; and a handful of loyal, amazing friends who stuck by her side until the end. 

Judy was predeceased by her parents and sister, Deborah Altman. She will be laid to rest next to Deborah at Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn, New York.

Maurice Leon “Mel” Opotowsky, a former newspaper editor and tenacious free press advocate who was known for helping to advance 1st Amendment rights, has died.

Opotowsky died April 18 at Claremont Manor retirement community, where he lived with his wife, Bonnie Opotowsky, according to their son, Didier Opotowsky. He said his father’s cause of death is not certain, and that he had Parkinson’s. He was 92.

Opotowsky was a top editor at the Riverside Press-Enterprise when the paper brought two cases before the U.S. Supreme Court that resulted in landmark rulings advancing the public’s right to view certain legal proceedings. He was later a founding board member of the First Amendment Coalition, a nonprofit dedicated to protecting the free press and preserving access to government records and meetings.

“I don’t know that there’s another single person in California who had such a positive and long-lasting impact on open government in our state,” said David Snyder, executive director of the First Amendment Coalition. Opotowsky remained an active board member until his death and had emailed Snyder suggesting work the organization could take up just weeks ago, he added. “His longevity, his persistence and his tenacity are the stuff of legend.”

Opotowsky joined the Press-Enterprise in 1973 after working as an editor at Newsday. He was known for fostering a culture that emphasized hard news and accountability journalism, said former columnist Dan Bernstein, who worked at the Press-Enterprise from 1976 to 2014.

Back then, the news organization put out two papers: the morning Enterprise and the afternoon Press, which were later merged. Opotowsky eventually climbed the ranks to become managing editor of the combined edition.

“He was pretty much on everybody’s shoulder as they wrote and reported stories, because he was a very tough and aggressive editor who was skeptical of government and skeptical of politicians,” Bernstein said. “And none of us wanted to be left not asking the question that he would have looked for immediately.”

In January 1984, the paper won the first of two Supreme Court rulings that are still often cited by attorneys seeking access to court proceedings.

“He was reputed to know as much about constitutional law as a lot of lawyers did,” he said. “Whether it was government meetings, courtrooms or records, he was pretty much adamant that all records should be open and all courtrooms should be open.”

Opotowsky retired as editor of the Press-Enterprise in 1999, becoming an ombudsman, tasked with investigating and responding to reader complaints. In addition to his open records advocacy work, he taught at Cal State Fullerton.

He was rightly known for being unsparingly direct, said Kris Lovekin, a former education reporter at the Press-Enterprise. She recalled one story in which Opotowsky demanded that a reporter unmask a donor to UC Riverside who wanted to remain anonymous, figuring that a public university must be required to disclose its backers. After he resolved to get an attorney involved, the Press-Enterprise’s then-publisher, Howard H. “Tim” Hays, was forced to disclose that it was he who had, in fact, made the donation, Lovekin said.

At the same time, Opotowsky was also kind and compassionate when warranted, she said. A keen chronicler of the world around him, he was creating journalism up until the end of his life, she said.

“He was still writing stories about people in Claremont Manor, about the people he lived with,” Lovekin said. “He would post it on Facebook and we would read about the other residents.”

Opotowsky was remembered for his dry wit that at times leaned acerbic. He had a soft spot for practical jokes and an even softer spot for his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, his son said. He loved horseback riding, fox hunting and trying different restaurants, he said.

Opotowsky was born in New Orleans on Dec. 13, 1931. His mother was ill, so one of her sisters-in-law filled out the registration card and submitted it to the city to produce a birth certificate, Didier Optowsky said. The sister-in-law named him Maurice Leon after their father — contrary to a tradition among some Jewish people that dictates babies should not be named after living relatives, he said.

“My grandmother was so furious she refused to call him Maurice, refused to call him M.L.,” Didier Opotowsky said. “So she called him Mel.”

His father did not learn his legal name until he was drafted into the Army, Didier Opotowsky said.

True to his roots, Opotowsky was also known to make enormous batches of red beans and rice — enough to feed the entire family for weeks, his son said. “They were good,” he said. “But we would get tired after the fifth day or so.”

He is survived by his wife Bonnie; son Didier; daughters Joelle Opotowsky, Keturah Persellin and Jamie Persellin; 18 grandchildren and many great-grandchildren. He is preceded in death by a daughter, Arielle Opotowsky, who died as an infant.

Norm Zeigler had no secret fishing spots.

Inventor of one of the most used flies in the history of fly fishing, Zeigler was known for passing on his free fishing knowledge in a sport that's often thought of an exclusive extension of angling reserved for the rich and retired.

The famous Sanibel Island angler and businessman died early Monday at his partially rebuilt home on Sanibel Island from complications related to Parkinson's.

Born on July 10, 1948 on Cape Cod, Zeigler, 75, worked as a travel and outdoors writer and editor for most of his life, and he was known locally as the forefather and big promoter of fly fishing for snook, especially from beaches like Sanibel Island.

"He was so king and big-hearted and that's why he was so successful," said his wife of 39 years, Libby Grimm. "He believed in no secret spots, even before he opened the fly shop."

He is survived by Libby, son Travis Zeigler of Sanibel, daughter, Katrina Sherman (Hunter), and three grandchildren, of Austin, Texas. He is also survived by his sister and three brothers, and many nieces and nephews.

Zeigler spent much of his professional life as an outdoors and travel writer and editor for Stars and Stripes, a military publication based in Germany.

There, he roamed across much of Europe, hunting and fishing some of the most beautiful landscapes the continent has to offer.

Zeigler came down with Lyme disease, and in 1994 his doctor advised that he move to an area like Florida for its temperate climate and clean air.

He did, but he also lost trout fishing, which had become an obsession over the decades.

"He was so sick he would cast from the beach, and then he realized he could catch snook from the beach," Libby said. "Then he wrote the book that revolutionized the fly fishing industry because you didn't need money to pay for a guide."

Norm Zeigler's Fly Shop opened in 2009 along Periwinkle Drive, and the fly fishing atmosphere there inspired a generation of guides in Lee County to follow Zeigler's lead.

He sold the shop in 2021 after being diagnosed with Parkinson's.

"He didn't make it three years and (Hurricane) Ian didn't help because we lost everything in the world," Libby said. "It was a 6-minute walk to the Gulf, and it was a great house until Ian."

Hurricane Ian made landfall on their 38th wedding anniversary, Libby said.

Daniel Andrews, co-founder of Captains for Clean Water, worked at Zeigler's fly shop for several years while he was in high school.

"I met Norm before I had my driver's license," Andrews said. "I must have been 13 or 14 years old."

He said Zeigler was an advocate for fly fishing and he fought to break down economic barriers that keep many people from enjoying the sport.

"The thing about Norm was he was incredibly empowering to people: Anybody can pick up a fly rod and you don't need the fanciest setup out there," Andrews said. "The most notable thing about his is he worked to remove boundaries and he wanted people to find the peace and connection to nature."

Andrews described Zeigler as a serious fisherman who wanted his friends and guests to experience the joys he had come to know on Sanibel.

"When you were on the water with him, he had a sense of seriousness and there wasn't a lot of words said," Andrews said. "He just wanted you to have the same experience he did. The real drive for that was the peace and serenity that he had while fly fishing the beaches."

Long-time friend and fellow fly fisherman Bob Brooks said Zeigler's shop was key to starting a unique fishery on Sanibel.

"There were a few people who were doing it but they were very quiet about it," Brooks said. "Norm was the one who started writing about it and developed the Schminnow and he was probably the first people who really went after it and told people about it. Then people started to come to Sanibel just to do that and they still do."

Zeigler was featured in a recent Flyfisherman.com article on his life and passing.

Calusa Watekeeper and fishing guide Codty Pierce, 33, worked at Zeigler's shop as a teenager, and he credited Zeigler with making Southwest Florida waters famous.

"He's really the one who bridged the gap and told normal people they could sight fish for tropical gamefish on Sanibel Island," Pierce said. Sight fishing is a visual method where fish are spotted and then cast to. "Not only was it his business but he went out of his way to give casting lessons and encouraged people to go out and try it. He founded the Sanibel Fly Club and they really are a staple of the community." Pierce said Zeigler was a leader in the fishing community and just a genuinely good person.

"What started as hanging out on a dirty old couch turned into a group that got together for fly fishing because we were passionate about it, but that turned into more beautiful things like helping Boy Scouts and doing work inside Ding Darling and that was all the brainchild of Norm," Pierce said. "His book was a gamechanger for this area because it really put us on the map. The only thing that's rivaled his book is the tarpon fishing at Boca Grande."

But Zeigler's health failed him in the past few years.

"He certainly had his share of health issues with the chronic Lyme disease and the prostate cancer and this Parkinson's was more than enough, but fly fishing was his Zen, his yoga and his religion," Libby said.

Retired Col. Ralph Puckett Jr., an Army Ranger who received the Medal of Honor in 2021, 71 years after the valiant combat actions in the Korean War for which he was decorated, and who became one of the most honored soldiers in U.S. military history, died April 8 at his home in Columbus, Ga. He was 97.

The cause was complications from Parkinson’s disease, said his wife, Jean Puckett.

At age 94, Col. Puckett traveled to the White House to receive the Medal of Honor, leaving behind both his wheelchair and walker to stand straight as President Biden draped the military’s top award for valor around his neck. The decoration for Col. Puckett was years in the making, championed by close and influential friends in the military community who wanted to upgrade his Distinguished Service Cross. He had been presented with the DSC, the second-highest award for valor, soon after a fierce battle on a Korean hilltop.

Starting on Nov. 25, 1950, then-1st Lt. Puckett and fellow soldiers with the Eighth Army Ranger Company assaulted and took command of Hill 205, frozen high ground about 60 miles from the Chinese border. It was near the outset of what became known as the Battle of Chongchon River, in which senior U.S. commanders were caught by surprise by China’s full-scale entry into the Korean War.

To succeed in his objective, he was credited with deliberately braving enemy machine-gun fire to help his men locate and kill a Chinese sniper.

The Chinese launched swarming wave attacks of small-arms and mortar fire for hours in bitterly cold temperatures. The American soldiers were outnumbered 10 to 1, according to Army accounts, but Lt. Puckett, despite being wounded by a hand grenade, helped his men defeat five successive Chinese counterattacks that stretched into the early morning of Nov. 26.

On the sixth Chinese counterattack, the Rangers were overrun after Lt. Puckett was told that further artillery fire was unavailable to support them. He and his men engaged in hand-to-hand combat, and Lt. Puckett suffered additional wounds from mortars that left him unable to move. He ordered his soldiers to abandon him to enable them to have a better chance of withdrawing alive.

Two privates first class, Billy G. Walls and David L. Pollock, carried him to safety. They later received the Silver Star for their valor in saving him.

In an oral history project, Lt. Puckett recalled seeing Chinese soldiers attacking U.S. service members with bayonets 15 yards away from him when Walls and Pollock arrived by his side. He said that he was glad the men disobeyed his order to leave him.

“I wouldn’t be talking to you today,” Lt. Puckett said. “They saved my neck.”

For 18 years beginning in 2003, retired Army Lt. Col. John Lock, a historian who had written extensively on the Rangers, sought to have Col. Puckett recognized with the Medal of Honor.

In 2021, Jean Puckett told The Washington Post that her husband felt the Distinguished Service Cross was “honor enough,” but Lock and other members of Col. Puckett’s immediate family wanted to see the effort through. It required extensive research on what happened during the battle and the Army reassessing whether Col. Puckett’s actions deserved the Medal of Honor.

Among those who advocated Col. Puckett’s Medal of Honor were Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) and some of the Army’s top officers, including Gens. Joseph Votel and Stanley McChrystal, according to documents previously reviewed by The Post. Both generals had encountered Col. Puckett as Rangers.

At the White House ceremony, Biden recalled with a smile that Col. Puckett wondered if it would be possible to mail him the Medal of Honor, rather than holding an event with fanfare.

“Korea is sometimes called the ‘Forgotten War,’ but those men who were there under Lieutenant Puckett’s command, they will never forget his bravery,” Biden said during the White House ceremony in 2021. “They will never forget that he was right by their side for every minute of it.”

Col. Puckett, in remarks at the Pentagon that week, called for unity in the United States.

“While we have many enemies of this country today who want to see us fall, there’s no greater enemy than ourselves,” he said. “We have divided ourselves into tribes and closed our ears to all who would not think we would do what we needed to do.”

alph Puckett Jr. was born in Tifton, Ga., on Dec. 8, 1926. His father ran an insurance business and wholesale grocery, and his mother was a homemaker. He graduated from the Baylor School, a preparatory school in Chattanooga, Tenn., and then in 1949 from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, N.Y., where he was captain of the boxing team. War broke out in Korea the next year.

His deployment in Korea ended prematurely with his injuries. After returning to the United States, he convalesced at a hospital at Fort Benning, Ga., where he met his future wife, Jean Martin. They married Nov. 26, 1952 — two years to the day after he was nearly killed.

After healing from his wounds, Col. Puckett returned to duty and held assignments in Georgia, at West Point and in West Germany. In 1967, he deployed to Vietnam as a lieutenant colonel with the 101st Airborne Division and was awarded a second Distinguished Service Cross. That honor was for landing by helicopter during an active firefight, maneuvering through a heavily mined area, and then personally occupying a foxhole and braving enemy fire throughout the night on Aug. 13, 1967.

“He heard cries for help during an intense mortar barrage later that night and dashed through a hail of flying shrapnel to give aid,” according to a copy of his award citation. “He personally carried the two wounded soldiers back to safety and used his skill and experience as a truly professional soldier to treat their wounds. When rescue helicopters came in, he repeatedly refused extraction for himself and directed that the casualties be evacuated.”

His other decorations included two awards each of the Silver Star and Bronze Star Medal, and five awards of the Purple Heart, according to his Army biography. Combined, the decorations make him among the most decorated soldiers in U.S. military history, Lock said.

In addition to his wife, survivors include two children, Martha Lane Wilcoxson and Thomas M. Puckett; six grandchildren; and four great-grandchildren. Another daughter, Jean Raney, died in 2004.

Col. Puckett retired from the military in 1971, then spent years working for Outward Bound, a nonprofit focused on outdoor education. When the Army Ranger Hall of Fame was established in 1992 at Fort Benning (renamed Fort Moore last year), Col. Puckett was a member of the inaugural class.

Well into his 80s, he hiked training ranges at Benning and mentored younger soldiers. He stressed the need for Rangers not to talk down to other soldiers in the Army, Votel said.

“He always reminded me: Show your class. Show your civility. Don’t let things get you down and distract you from your mission,” Votel said.