Last year we hosted an event to help raise money for the cancer services & programs at the future Vogel Medical Campus in Tinton Falls, NJ. It’s called Power of Pink. The event was a blast, and more importantly, we were able to help raise the most money ever for the cause from this event.
You can see some clips from last year in the video below.
We decided to host the event again this year. Event details here.
These are powerful and mission critical to fighting any info war. And clearly, we are in one.
I remember when Steven Spielberg document testimony from my grandparents and their stories from the Holocaust, and so thankful he did.
We need more of it..
That’s what I’m excited to support Wendy Sachs and Debra Messing and the rest of their team in producing a piece that will detail and document this antisemitic disease that’s beginning to rot away our society.
In any society, antisemitism is the canary in the coal mine for a deep, uglier reality. It needs to be exposed because light is the best antidote for darkness.
Interviews will include some of the most active and vocal voices like Noa Tishby, Kirsten Gillibrand, Michael Rapaport, Dan Senor, Einat Wilf, Hillel Neuer, Sheryl Sandberg and more
There’s lots more to do but this is just another initiative of many that’s needed.
EXCLUSIVE: Actress, producer, and activist, Debra Messing, has signed on to executive produce the feature documentary, Primal Fear about the explosion of antisemitism on college campuses, on social media, and in the streets since October 7, 2023, when Hamas attacked Israel. Wendy Sachs, the co-director and producer of SURGE, is directing the film and will also serve as an executive producer.
It’s kind of hard to imagine anyone smiling in a terrorized home where your friends and family were murdered or kidnapped.
And knowing some of those family members are still being held hostage in unimaginable circumstances.
Or hearing stories about being the very first tank into Gaza, knowing full well you’re unlikely to make it out alive, and that many of your friends did not.
The stories are endless.
But there we were..
For the first time since 10/7, some people from Kibbutz Reim, one of the places closest to the border and attacked, came home to begin the new process of rebuilding.
They heard about @ryanjdaniels and @avivlazar3 crazy idea to get a crew together from the US and Israel to come south and start the rebuilding effort with them.
So we went..
And others joined..
And together we did what we’ve always done and will continue to do:
Some call it “Tikkun olam”
A Jewish concept that refers to actions intended to improve and repair the world.
But for us, it was about new and old friends..
And letting them know, they are not alone.
And this antisemitic, hate-filled disease that’s emerged once again, will be destroyed and will be another chapter in our very long story.
Last year, my family and I decided to create an endowment at the University of Wisconsin with the following mission in mind:
Holocaust remembrance and education are important topics for Jewish and non-Jewish college students. Learning about the dangers of hatred and discrimination through Holocaust education is important to fighting intolerance and prejudice in today’s world. Studying the Holocaust provides opportunities to explore and inspire with stories of courage, adversity, and resilience.
Today, one out of every five kids think the Holocaust was a myth. These are the same kids tearing down American flags, tearing down posters of kidnapped children, assaulting police officers, and screaming “intifada” on the streets and in the halls of our cities and universities.
Some of these kids also believe the atrocities of 10/7 were justified or never happened.
“It’s like Uber but for paramedics and first responders. You gotta meet the founder, Eli”.
My friend Joe shared some version of this with me early last year. Shortly thereafter, I met with Eli and then my family decided to donate an ambucyle. It was an easy decision.
However, we wanted to take it a step further…
But first, quick context…When I was young, maybe six or so years old, I remember seeing these heroes on the ski mountain wearing red jackets, with white crosses, skiing around helping to save lives. I thought they were real-life superheroes. Twenty-plus years later I still try to make it to Vermont to volunteer as a member of Ski Patrol.
Back to Feb 2022…
I thought maybe we could recreate that feeling for kids to inspire a sense of wonder and adventure. We asked the United Hatzalah team if we could donate the bike at a school, with all the kids there. They were of course happy to do so. Little did we know the bikes would be in the field responding to the worst atrocity against Jews since the Holocaust.
The bike reads:
“Whoever saves one life, saves the world entire.”
And that’s the point: all it takes is one act and one person to change the world.
Maybe that will be you today… stepping up, getting out of your comfort zone, and doing even just one thing that can make a small but massive impact.
This week, my family and I were honored by my childhood school for the work we’ve done over the years to give back to the school and to the community.
I gave a speech and made another commitment.
Both are below…
**** The speech ****
Next week is Passover.
It’s a time in the Jewish tradition when we talk about how we escaped bondage, oppression, and persecution and were freed from slavery in Egypt.
Growing up every year, when my grandparents were around, we would go to their house for this holiday. I would sit next to my grandfather at the head of the table, watching him tell the story about how, we, as Jews, were freed from slavery.
As some of you may know, my grandparents were Holocaust survivors. And like the Jews from Egypt, my grandparents managed to survive their own Pharoah and discover freedom on a small farm in Toms River, New Jersey.
To sit next to my grandfather, and listen to him talk about Jews being persecuted and freed, thousands of years ago, was quite surreal to me.
Even in my eulogy about him, I remember remarking about how these moments felt like a window into the past, through his eyes and his narration of the Sedar, with his Yiddish accent.
At a young age, I could appreciate this relationship between Passover and the Holocaust. The Hebrew Academy certainly had a role to play in helping me understand these chapters of our past.
But I remember one year in particular.
I was sitting at the head of the table and my grandfather had a few more cups of wine than usual.
Out of nowhere, for the very first time in my life, he began to tell me stories about his experiences during the Holocaust.
These weren’t stories about the six million Jews.
These were stories about Sam. About his friends. About his siblings. About his parents. About his family.
About my family.
One story he told me was about the time when he was a prisoner of war, he went without eating his bread rations for a week, so he could sell those rations to enemy soldiers and bribe his way out of the camp to work as a carpenter, which he was not.
You could imagine the irony of listening to him tell me about the importance of bread and how it saved his life while starting at a matzah plate in the middle of the Sedar table.
These stories, and others like it that night were the first time that I really internalized the fact that he lost everything, yet, we were here.
We were free.
With everything.
We had opportunities he never had.
We have opportunities 6 million people, and their children and their grandchildren and their great-grandchildren never had.
This is something I think about every single day of my life.
“In every generation, every individual must feel as if he personally had come out of Egypt”
This visceral understanding gives me perspective and encourages me to make the most of this gift that each one of us has.
The gift of life.
Back at the Passover table, and after he shared his war stories, he then proceeded to give his young grandson some life lessons.
They were simple.
Work hard and go to school. Get a good education.
I think he understood that our kids are our future and that his kids and grandkids were his future.
I think he also understood how education played a central role in it all, especially when he himself was not able to pursue it due to the war.
This is something, as a parent myself, I now really understand but more importantly, it’s something I feel and connect with every time I look at my own kids, Michaela and Brayden.
It’s something my parents understood too when they sent me to school at The Hebrew Academy.
My grandparents and parents knew that if that little boy at the Sedar table worked hard in life and got a good education, he might be ok. And maybe, just maybe, he could help pay it forward and do the same for his family and for others.
And here we are.
I’ve worked hard, had a great upbringing thanks to my parents and The Hebrew Academy, had a little success and a lot of luck, and now recognize that it’s my turn to help ensure our Jewish family carries on for future generations.
That is why, tonight, I am excited to honor the memory of my grandparents, Sam and Betty, by rededicating my childhood school, formerly the Solomon Schechter Day School and currently The Hebrew Academy.
Moving forward, it will forever be known as “The Reich Hebrew Academy”.
I can truly think of no better way to express my love and appreciation for my grandparents and their legacy.
Today more than ever, this is especially important with the backdrop of what’s happening in Ukraine. Once again, people are fleeing Europe to save their lives as my grandparents did from their small towns in Poland years ago, which are now part of Ukraine.
This commitment ensures that my generation and future generations will be afforded the same opportunities that were afforded to me. Opportunities that were not afforded to my grandparents and millions of others.
So here’s my ask to all of you…
Please consider joining me and my family, Joe and Maxine Macnow, and recent others like David and Vanessa Wise, Randy and Laurie Pearlman, in stepping up in a big way and helping ensure this school gets built.
Joe, Maxine, and Yoti told me they had a dream about this project. As an entrepreneur, I too love to live in the clouds and try to invent the future.
And their dream is an amazing one where the past present and future exist concurrently. It’s an exciting vision and we would not be here without them.
Joe, Maxine, Yoti, thank you.
So please, help us make it a reality and help us ensure the path to the future is secured for our kids and future generations.
And now, I’d like to introduce you to the funnier, better-looking Reich, my brother Jeremy.
At 6:20am in a coffee shop you fully expect to hear things like, “Hi sir, what can I get for you today.” Instead I heard a loud car crash followed by a blood-soaked woman screaming at the top of her lungs…
“Help! Help! My boyfriend’s been shot. Help!”
All heads in the coffee shop turn towards the windows…
I got out of the Starbucks line and walked over to the glass door. Sure enough, there was a car up in smoke with a women franticly screaming for help. The bystanders all seemed confused and shell shocked. After all, who is getting shot at 6:20am on a Tuesday morning in the middle of San Francisco? I guess the tenderloin isn’t a great place after all.
I walked outside and checked the scene for safety.
“Where is the shooter?” I thought.
It was dark and hard to tell what was really happening, who was involved and who was not involved. You could see other people slowly approaching the car but people couldn’t comprehend what was really going on. After about 20 seconds of surveying the scene, I felt it was safe to approach the vehicle.
I walked over to the driver side of the car and sure enough, there he was. The boyfriend, completely soaked in blood, head to toe, slouched over his seatbelt with the airbag deployed a few inches from his face.
“Help. Get me out of here,” he said, in a soft voice. It probably had to do with the fact that he was shot at least 3 times in the chest which makes it difficult to breath.
I had one person call 911, another person take out their phone to give me some light with their flashlight, and another person go get napkins from the Starbucks. They all do their jobs and at least we get the ball rolling to help this guy.
The person with the napkins comes back. I take them from him and apply compression to his chest wounds. I try not to get blood on my hands, arms or clothes, but it’s somewhat unavoidable.
He was talking, which meant he had an airway open and he was breathing. He also had a shallow pulse which is not a great sign and he was quickly beginning to lose consciousness.
“Stay with me!” I said. “Help is on the way.”
I couldn’t move him and even if I could, I probably wouldn’t have. After all, he was reasonably stable and if I moved him, who knows if he would have turned for the worse. Not to mention, this guy was just in a major car crash and the car was totaled with the front left wheel and hood of the car destroyed. This means there could also be serious neck and back injuries too.
He loses consciousness twice and both times I think he is dead. Both times I yell at him to wake up and he does. And now given the massive amounts of blood loss, I’m expecting this guy to go into shock.
After a few minutes of this, more help arrives.
Finally.
The police show up first.
I ask for gloves and a knife and the officer hands them to me.
“Black latex gloves?” I thought. I’m used to white ones when I’m patrolling. I guess it goes with the police uniform.
I glove up to make sure blood doesn’t get all over my hands. I take the knife and begin to cut off his shirt. I still can’t really see the bullet wounds but I know they are there. I cut off his seatbelt to give me some more maneuverability around his body to treat the injuries.
A few minutes later the firefighters show up.
They help me rip off the driver’s side door and then things begin to move much quicker. At any incident I’ve ever been in, especially at Mount Snow, the best feeling in the world is when things are going really, really bad and you see more red coats coming to help, or in this case, more red fire trucks coming to the scene. It’s times like these when I’m thankful and grateful for my ski patrol training after all these years. But this one feels different. It is different.
With the door off and more hands and help, we were able to take the victim out of the car and lay him on the ground. We cut the rest of his shirt off and do a full body assessment to see what other injuries or bullet woulds, if any, there may be.
We flip him over to check his back.
No bullet holes…
Not good.
He begins to lose consciousness once again and once again I yell, “wake up, stay with us!”
The paramedics and ambulance arrives.
We tell them to hurry and get the stretcher, backboard and oxygen over as fast as possible. We load the victim up on the backboard, strap him in, get him on the stretcher and then finally into the ambulance. By the time we got him fully loaded into the ambulance, he was still alive which is the best I could have hoped for.
The ambulance doors shut and the truck drives away.
My mind starts to race..
“Did I miss anything? Was there more I could have done? Is he still alive? Where is the shooter?”
I ask the firefighters for antiseptics and hydrogen peroxide to clean some blood of my arms and shoes. I wondered if this is how medics feel when they are in a battlefield.
I wonder if the blood will come off my shoes.
Yellow crime scene tape goes up.
The police take interviews.
I go back upstairs to take another shower. Those were certainly some of the stranger ‘shower thoughts’ I’ve ever had. I get out to dry off and get dressed for my day once again. I put on a clean version of my Troops t-shirt and head back downstairs to meet my team so we can head off to the Slack Frontiers conference.
Mark Suster wrote a great post yesterday called “Life is 10% How You Make It and 90% How you Take It” and it’s definitely worth a read for anyone doing the entrepreneurial thing.
He talks about how “happiness has to be a state of mind” and how “you need to constantly remind yourself to be happy whatever your life’s circumstances.”
I was thinking about this a lot over the past two days. The idea of “happiness” and what it really takes to be “happy” – a sort of corollary to Mark’s post. And I couldn’t help think about one of my most serious rescue incidents on Ski Patrol.
It was my first year “cut loose” on mount snow’s ski patrol, which meant I was able to go out on codes (which are reports of an injury or incident) and provide emergency medical care to guests. I didn’t have to shadow any of the seasoned ski patrollers. I had passed my certifications, was approved by senior patrollers to respond to codes, and was now ready to handle situations on my own.
It was Saturday. Sunny, blue skies, with a temp of about 35 degrees. I was wearing my new, fresh, red ski patrol jacket with a white cross on the back, had all my medical equipment in a pack strapped around my waist, and was sporting my new Burton snowboard. I decided to take a run down the front side of the mountain on the “Standard” trail (this ski trail runs directly under one of the main ski lifts). About half way down the trail and towards the top of the ski lift, I approached a group of people huddling around what seemed to be a small person laying on the ground. I quickly sped up on my snowboard and as I got closer, I could see that there was a person in a blue jacket performing CPR on a young boy who was about 12 years old. There were about 10 other people huddling around the boy and meanwhile, there were hundreds of people passing above us from the chairlift, with their eyes now peeled on the ski patroller and the boy on the ground.
The person in the blue jacket quickly identified himself as a doctor (ironically enough, many doctors are never fully trained as first responders and never get experience with emergency situations. This doctor was one of them). Witnesses told me the boy tried jumping off of a log unsuccessfully, fell back, and hit his head on the log. He was not wearing a helmet, became unconscious and stopped breathing.
Within seconds of my arrival, the boy began breathing again but was still unconscious. I performed a quick assessment, took his vitals and stabilized his neck. I radioed in (as a code 3 – the most serious of codes) for additional personnel and equipment, specifically needing a backboard, neck collars, oxygen, and suction (in case the boy started to throw up while still unconscious). I requested a helicopter to transport him to a hospital and within minutes, a helicopter was put in the air en route to the mount snow airport.
About 1 minute after I called for extra hands and equipment, 3 more patrollers were on the scene helping me package, stabilize and transport the boy off the hill. We put him in a sled and I quickly snowboarded him down the mountain and into the doctor’s office. As soon as we got him off the mountain, we put him in an ambulance that was already waiting for us, shut the doors, and watched the ambulance take off to meet the helicopter for transport.
The boy’s fate was now out of my control. I had no idea what was going to happen to him and didn’t know if my actions helped or hurt his chances of survival. That night was tough for me and I can’t imagine how tough it must have been for his parents.
The next day, I returned to the mountain to patrol and at about 1:00pm I got a phone call at the summit rescue building.
It was the doctor who treated the boy on his way out with the ambulance. He said that the boy had suffered major head trauma and that his fate could have gone either way, but as a result of my actions and that of my team, the boy was going to be ok.
I realized at that moment that true happiness comes from helping others. The bigger impact you make on someone else’s life, the happier you will be, and the happier they will be.
