As I've written before, there are multiple people in my life who are battling serious illnesses. Six at last count. Some of them won't make it, which breaks my heart. I don't know if this is just a bad run or if it's a product of my age (58). Was 2024 a rough year - an outlier - or is this the new normal?
Sunday, I said goodbye to a longtime lawyer friend of mine. Gary Rubenstein. Rube, to his friends. I've known Rube forever.
We played softball against each other for 30 + years in the Nashville Bar Association Softball League. Rube loves the league and, of course, so do I. Each of us has won tournament titles, although not in few years. Rube was a stalwart for the Independents in the mid-1990's, when I played for Manier, Herod. The Independents were our biggest rivals and the team we finally beat to get over the hump and win our first tournament championship. I still have a team photograph taken immediately after the final game, a 12 - 1 victory for Manier, Herod.
As I recall, Rube played third base in those days. He always - always - wore grey baseball pants, no matter the heat in late July and early August. He also sported a wispy, reddish blonde mustache long after it went out of style. He still has the mustache and, in fact, it appears he kept it long enough for it to come back into style.
He was a singles hitter and someone, for some reason, that I could never seem to get out. I always joked that he and Jerry Patterson - neither of whom are overly athletic - were two guys I could never solve as a pitcher. Year after year, they singled me to death at East Park and, later, at Cleveland Street Park.
Over the years, Rube and I shared beers together every summer at the softball field. We also shared our love of baseball. Red Sox for him, Dodgers for me. And we shared stories. So many stories, borne out of a love of practicing law and a love of the NBA Softball League. Rube is a dear friend of mine and a lawyer for whom I have a tremendous amount of respect. Always.
At 71, Rube was the second oldest player in the league this summer, after Pete Ezell. Rube and I connected, as always, at the end of season tournament at Cleveland Street Park in late July. He was there, in fact, when I was hit in the face with a line drive and left the field, blood everywhere, roaring in pain and anger, unsure if I had broken teeth (I didn't), a broken jaw (I didn't), or needed stitches (I did).
What I didn't learn until I visited him at home on Sunday is that while I was storming around outside of left field, trying to determine how badly injured I was, Rube was instrumental in preventing a brawl from breaking out on the field as my teammates confronted the other team. Rube the peacemaker. That's just who he is.
In August, a couple of weeks after the NBA softball tournament, Rube was playing golf and began to have excruciating low back pain. It quickly got so bad that he couldn't walk and barely could move. Sadly, he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer after a tumor was discovered pressing on his spine. Just devastating news for Rube, his family, and his friends.
Although Rube had chemotherapy treatments, I think it was as a way to, perhaps, buy him more time. The disease was terminal. He wasn't going to survive it. What I hate the most is that he has had such a rough ride since late summer. Multiple trips to the hospital in an ambulance. Extended stays at the hospital at or near the holidays. Intense pain. Constant discomfort. It's been rough.
Rube's wife, Deb, has been by his side every step of the way. Her strength, dedication, and loyalty has been awe inspiring. Deb has been his rock. My admiration and respect for Deb is boundless.
Late last week, Deb texted me to tell me that Rube had fallen, which resulted in another trip to the emergency room in an ambulance. The doctors discovered the tumors had spread up and down his spine. Rube was done with treatment and was going to be placed on hospice care at home. Although he had been seeing only family and his closest friends from law school, Rube had decided to start seeing people if they wanted to stop by.
To say goodbye.
And that's what I did. On Sunday afternoon, I stopped by Rube's house in Crocket Springs, adjacent to the neighborhood I grew up in - Brenthaven - and spent a hour and a half or so with him. I hugged Deb, also a dear, dear friend of mine. I met Rube's sister, who was in town from Michigan. I briefly held his hand in the slightly awkward way that men do at a time like this. Without embarrassment or insecurity. With only love.
We told stories - we both love to talk and laugh - about practicing law and about the NBA Softball League. Rube was there at the beginning, when there was no softball league, just a softball game at the Nashville Bar Association summer picnic at Crockett Springs Country Club, near his house. We laughed, a lot. When I said goodbye, something passed between us, or at least it seemed to me that it did.
Before I left, I shoveled the ice and snow off the front sidewalk while Deb watched. I was so happy to do it, too, because it made me feel like in a very small way, I was helping. Doing something tangible. I drove home and listened to music, alone with my thoughts and memories.
I'm losing another lion.
Postscript. Gary Rubenstein died at home last Saturday, February 1, 2025. His wife, Deb, sent me a text message Sunday. Rube's daughter, Rachel, flew home from California and he died less than 30 minutes after she arrived at the house. As Deb said, "Rube was waiting to tell her goodbye." Yes, he was.
Tuesday afternoon, I went to visitation at Williamson Memorial Gardens. Waiting in line for a word with Deb and Rachel, I saw so many lawyers I haven't seen in, well, forever. Mac Robinson, Jr. Joe Wheeler. So many others. Lawyers I played softball against, back in the day, in the NBA Softball League that is so important to Gary and to me. So many of them retired from the league but Gary and I kept playing, summer after summer.
The NBA Softball League, for me, won't be the same without Gary playing in it. It just won't.
Goodbye, Rube.
3 comments:
Thank you for this beautiful tribute to Gary. I have practices law at SLB since 2002. I never called him Rube although everyone else did. Not sure why I never picked up the habit. The first time I saw him in his softball uniform I almost laughed. He looked like a “ young boy” to me. He recruited all our clerks to play softball and I never got tired of seeing him leave our office in his uniform. The last time I saw him in his uniform may have been right before the game you described. Barbara Perutelli got to visit right before he died and I am so glad we did. He was just as kind and jovial as always. I miss Gary. He was such a kind man. I am not surprised at all that he kept a brawl from breaking out. Thanks again.
I want to also add to these comments. I practiced law with Rube for thirty years. He actually hired me. I had known Alan DeBusk who worked there and when I graduated from law school Alan said “come to my office and you can have a job.” When I arrived for the job it was actually for a job interview that Rube conducted. In the middle of the interview Keene Bartley walked into the office. He told Rube. “ I have to go to court and need the briefcase. He picked up a small case emptied it out on Rube’s desk and left. The case must have belonged to Mr. Schulman because it had the initials IRS on it. I came home from the interview and told my husband, I don’t know about this firm ….there is some kid, whose voice is still changing, who is doing the job interviewing. It seems that the firm only has one briefcase that must belong to the Internal Revenue Service.
It turned out that he became a true dear friend. He didn’t use my given name of Barbara much but usually called me Babs. That’s what my grandchildren call me today. I’ve always hated going to funerals. But if there was ever a good one, it was his. Debbie and Rachel made it that way. Thank you. We will all miss him.
Barbara Perutelli
I love this memory Barbara. Just as funny as Rube!! I totally agree about his service. Debbie said Gary didn’t want anybody to be sad. His celebration of life really captured who Gary was and made all of us smile. Thank you Debbie and Rachel. I can’t help it though. Sorry Gary. I am sad.
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