Jeffery Halpern

Tribute

We are gathered here to remember my father, Jeffrey Halpern. He was a husband, a father, a brother, an uncle, a partner, a lieutenant, and a mentor. While a Zoom memorial might not be the "big New York fire department funeral" we once envisioned, I know Dad would have approved. He was a practical man; if he’d known the cost of transporting a body back to NY, he would have told my mom, “Barbara, get the station wagon.” He always preferred being helpful over being a fuss. How you summarize a man’s life depends on your perspective. Today, as a father and husband myself, I look back on my dad with immense gratitude. He was a good father. He was kind, he comforted me, and he worked tireless double shifts to ensure I never went without. When it was time for college, he signed the papers and took out the loans, simply figuring it would all work out. Because of him, it did. While Dad had many careers, his time as a paramedic defined him. He loved the brotherhood of the ambulance, but most of all, he loved being the person who helped when people were at their most vulnerable. He was immensely proud of his work at Stations 39 and 47, and his shield number remained a part of his identity until the very end. That desire to help came with a cost. He was deeply affected by the difficult calls—the accidents, the tragedies, and, eventually, the terrorist attacks of 9/11. I remember watching the towers collapse from across the river, dropping to my knees in fear because I knew my father’s first instinct would be to rush toward the danger. Luckily, he was stuck in traffic that morning, but he spent the following weeks at the site. That service eventually led to the respiratory illnesses that forced his early retirement. One of the most vivid staples of my childhood was Dad abruptly stopping the car on the Belt Parkway to help at an accident scene. He knew he could help, he felt it was his duty, and so he did. Every single time. The last twenty years were a battle. After falling ill in 2006, he was never quite the same physically. While it was difficult to watch him fade over this last decade, I am profoundly grateful for the "extra" time we received. Because he kept fighting, he was able to stand at my wedding and hold his grandsons, Theo and Izzy. Today, while I am saddened to see his journey end, I am grateful that his fight is finished and his suffering is over. There is a great comfort in knowing your father is there if you need him. Even when he could no longer help me physically, his presence was a safety net. That is a comfort I will no longer feel, but it is one I am now honored to provide for my own sons, just as my father did for me. To a life of providing for others, of service, and of family: Dad, thank you for everything. You have my love, my respect, and my admiration. Your memory will always be a blessing.

Friends & Family