Spring Break
The Daily OrangeNew Yorker fondly remembered
By Brian Oppenheim
Posted: 1/20/04, 2:23 AM EST Section: Opinion
My uncle, Robert Martin, was the kind of guy it would be hard not to like - he was the quintessential New Yorker. He grew up in Brooklyn, the one brother in a family of four sisters. He attended NYU and Harvard, but didn't pursue a career involved with his academic interest. Instead, he chose to serve his city as a New York City Police officer, and for 23 years he did what he dearly loved.
While my uncle survived many near-death experiences as a cop, this past Sunday he died of cancer at the age of 50 after a valiant, seven-year fight with the disease.
In my younger days, he was a larger-than-life hero to me. As a 5-year-old, I knew I was going to be a cop, hands down. I played cops and robbers. I had all the police memorabilia a kid could have. My uncle would always be kind to me, no matter how exasperating I was, and made sure to give me all the NYPD T-shirts an aspiring young cop could want.
But what makes my uncle so special to me is the fact that no matter how sick he was in his battle with cancer, he was always willing to talk to me - at almost anytime - about anything related to New York City. Nothing excited me more than listening to him talk about the way the grass smelled at Yankee Stadium when he went there in the '70s to see Reggie Jackson play, or when he recalled the blackout of 1977.
We often talked about how New York City had changed from the one he knew decades ago. Disney was now in Times Square, the subways were safe to ride at night, crime was down to levels the city hadn't seen in 40 years. He always told me that New York City wouldn't be as safe as it was now if not for the dedication of his fellow officers. No matter what, he was always loyal to his fellow officers. And they were loyal to him, often driving him to the hospital every day for his treatment. My family and I will never forget their selflessness.
I will remember my Uncle Robert fondly with the memories and lessons that he taught me - lessons I try to use in my life every day.
Brian Oppenheim is a sophomore newspaper major. E-mail him at bjoppenh@syr.edu.
While my uncle survived many near-death experiences as a cop, this past Sunday he died of cancer at the age of 50 after a valiant, seven-year fight with the disease.
In my younger days, he was a larger-than-life hero to me. As a 5-year-old, I knew I was going to be a cop, hands down. I played cops and robbers. I had all the police memorabilia a kid could have. My uncle would always be kind to me, no matter how exasperating I was, and made sure to give me all the NYPD T-shirts an aspiring young cop could want.
But what makes my uncle so special to me is the fact that no matter how sick he was in his battle with cancer, he was always willing to talk to me - at almost anytime - about anything related to New York City. Nothing excited me more than listening to him talk about the way the grass smelled at Yankee Stadium when he went there in the '70s to see Reggie Jackson play, or when he recalled the blackout of 1977.
We often talked about how New York City had changed from the one he knew decades ago. Disney was now in Times Square, the subways were safe to ride at night, crime was down to levels the city hadn't seen in 40 years. He always told me that New York City wouldn't be as safe as it was now if not for the dedication of his fellow officers. No matter what, he was always loyal to his fellow officers. And they were loyal to him, often driving him to the hospital every day for his treatment. My family and I will never forget their selflessness.
I will remember my Uncle Robert fondly with the memories and lessons that he taught me - lessons I try to use in my life every day.
Brian Oppenheim is a sophomore newspaper major. E-mail him at bjoppenh@syr.edu.
