My friendship with Charles Gottfried started a very long time ago, under difficult circumstances.  But it grew in strength and intensity during these many years; it encompassed almost a lifetime.

We conversed several times each day.  The first phone call in the morning, and the very last at night, was with Charles.

Our conversations were mostly about the events of the day, national and local politics, private matters, a lot about Judaism, a subject that he was passionately interested in, a little gossip about friends, Israel, but mostly, about women.

He charmed and bedded many young, well known personalities.  He liked to show off with them, and this was hard to accept for my then wife Bassya.  To her he was too shallow.  She thought I deserved more intellectual friends.  She accused me of envy towards his dates.  We called them the girls of the week or of the month.  It seldom lasted very long.  They came, glistened brightly, and disappeared.

Charles was a European, polished man, well dressed, well mannered, and extremely attentive to the ladies.  He drove an expensive newer car, had a beautiful home, was never married, and, above all, he had the gift of gab.

Charles worked out a routine of giving the new acquisition the best attention that a lady might crave.  He took her to the finest restaurants, ordered the best food and drinks, bought her some gifts, but above all he could entertain her with an array of well chosen jokes.  Oh, he could tell them to perfection, and tell them again, and again. And, since this was just after the 2nd World War, Charles, who at age 17 left Holland with the Dutch Royal family to escape to England (well documented with pictures and books) told them that he later joined the underground in Europe, and much later, joined the American Army, where he, according to his stories, became a high ranking officer, and a hero in our intelligence.

There were a few that lasted longer. One in particular changed Charles life, for a while. She was a mature, yet still young, British lady who was a student at U.C. Berkeley taking a postgraduate course.  She was highly intelligent, came from a titled family in England, dressed and behaved conservatively, and brought some order into Gottfried's home.  She made him buy crystal glasses and fine china.  She didn't like to eat in restaurants, but rather gave nice, intimate dinners for a few friends at a time.

Charles told me several times that she was the most perfect lady all day, but at night, in his bed, she was a tiger, or to use his words; " Almost a slut."

After a few months, she packed and went back to England, where she got married to a "nobleman,"  a titled Brit, that gave her a wonderful small castle, and all the traditional life that she wanted and deserved.

Once, on his way to Israel, Charles stopped over in England, was invited to their home, and was completely charmed with the orderly, traditional and conservative way of her life. They remained life long friends.

And there was Eleanor. We all loved Eleanor; this talented, most unpretentious, very pretty young lady.  She was a friendly, warm, nicely, though plainly dressed, woman.  She had met Charles professionally.  She was a good decorator with much experience in setting up interiors in restaurants.

Charles fell for her.  For a while she kept him at a distance, but he with his charm and slickness won her over. They collaborated on a few prestigious assignments.  One particular French type restaurant became a showpiece in the City and, of course, it became our favorite eating place.

Bassya and I liked her right from the start.  The four of us became a nucleus for a very nice crowd.  Eleanor was intelligent, and curious about everything.  She was forever searching for new ideas, and wanted to learn all she could.

Eleanor fell in love with Charles.  She lived with him in harmony and grace - and as time went on, she became a big part of the Gottfried business, which with her help  flourished and expanded.  Eleanor and I had many private conversations.  She hinted that she would like to live her life out with my friend, as they were completely compatible.  She particularly loved his lovemaking.  She thought that this was the best that any woman could have.

She also knew that Charles would never marry a non - Jewish woman.  And, although not a practicing Catholic, she was still a shiksa, as Charles reminded her.

So, Eleanor started to study and read everything that she could find about Judaism.   Since I knew more in depth than Charles, she asked me many questions, and I directed her to serious Jewish writings, and Jewish theology.  When my information was exhausted, I directed her to Rabbi White, who was a family friend, and had a great library of Judaica.

Rabbi Sol White, who was a very learned man, also liked this curious young woman. When she wanted to learn all about the Talmud, the Mishna, the Gemora; all complicated extensions and interpretations of the teaching of the sages, he was a great help.  But when she, I am sure, mentioned the possibility of conversion to Judaism, he, as his nature was, talked her out of such an act.  He knew that a woman born and raised in a very strict Catholic family will always have her roots in her early indoctrination.

Charles and Eleanor discussed religion in general, but their love and companionship was all they needed, and our friendship went on.  Among other endeavors, we also used to go to lectures, to concerts, to the symphony and theater.  When Beth-Shalom, the Temple where Rabbi White was the highest official, arranged a serious of lectures by famous writers and politicians, we four signed up, and attended faithfully every Friday night.

It became a way of life and enjoyment, until, one Friday night, the lecturer talked about the holocaust, the terrible senseless slaughter of these millions of innocent people, of the children and babies.  He spoke of the silence of the world leaders, including President Roosevelt, and especially the Holy Father, Pope Pious the XII, who though well informed about the true situation in Germany, incredibly kept his complete silence during the war.

"Where was the Christian love?" 

Eleanor became petrified, and started to cry.  

She ran out crying from the lecture hall.  We followed, and tried to reason with her.  It did not help.

From then on everything went down hill. On the surface, everything with Charles remained the same, but I knew differently.  They stopped having sex.  Charles told me this, and Eleanor confirmed it to me.  Oh, he tried, but could never achieve an erection.  Yes, I knew that he functioned perfectly well with other women.

This terrible state lasted frostily for a few months.  Finally, Eleanor decided to return to her home in New York for a few weeks.  She never returned.

Charles continued with his old habits