Ira Riklis and Important Charities

Aish HaTorah is Hebrew for “Fire of Torah,” and the passion of the group that bears that name is to share the teachings and wisdom of the Jewish holy book with all who seek to learn. Their wholehearted approach to doing so without judgment of those who come to them, either through their website or their educational centers which offer programs in cities around the world has earned them the respect and ongoing support of Ira Riklis.

Each year, they serve hundreds of thousands of Jews with information about Judaism and guidance in their personal lives. Ira Riklis himself has benefited from the counsel of their Rabbis in times of need and uncertainty. And he’s been deeply appreciative of the fact that their counsel and support has been offered without pressure to convert him to their strictly Orthodox point of view. For them, Judaism is not “all or nothing,” it’s a journey of faith where each step counts and all are welcome on the path.

Just like the rest of us, Ira Riklis has moments when he realizes that, even though others are being unreasonable, he just has to lighten up. Sometimes those moments come when you’re just trying to do something good and right, but others are making things more difficult than they need to be. One such situation arose when he was trying to donate blood (something he does regularly, and which he urges to do as well).

On most occasions, this process proceeds apace. But once, when Ira Riklis went into the medical center, he found that they’d changed their donation forms to include legal jargon he found to be inappropriate and unnecessary. When he objected to this, the receptionist rather haughtily told him that if didn’t complete the paperwork, they simply wouldn’t take his blood—even though there’s a continuous need for blood donations to meet the demand of people whose lives hang in the balance. So, smiling to himself “Well, I guess that would show me!”, he cheerfully filled out the forms.

No matter how bright the downtown lights, how culturally rich the museums and art galleries, how bustling the financial districts, every city has a darker side, with impoverished neighborhoods where people struggle to get by. Ira Riklis knows that this holds equally true for New York as for Tel Aviv. Visitors to that vibrant city will see the glitz and glamour, the luxury hotels, trendy restaurants and the cultural attractions. They’re much less likely to encounter the areas where some 40 percent of the residents live in poverty.

Those people, those neighborhoods, need friends, which is precisely why Ira Riklis continues to be an ardent supporter of the American Friends of Tel Aviv. The group works closely with donors in creating projects aimed at improving the lives of those in the neediest neighborhoods. While other donors have donated more, none have funded as many projects as the Riklis family. And to maximize the effect of their efforts, most of their support has been focused on just one neighborhood—Schoonat Ezra—with the goal of making a clear and measurable difference there.

Those lines, from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, are among the most famous in all the world’s literature. Rightfully so. We all, even those of us like Ira Riklis who have done well in our lives, face seas of troubles at times and suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. And the eternal question we face at those times is whether we choose to suffer and accept these, or if we have the energy and strength of will to take arms against them—even though they may seem overwhelming to us.

Shakespeare, of course, wasn’t the only writer to address such issues. The poet, scientist and philosopher Loren Eiseley touches on the same theme in his essay “The Star Thrower,” which Ira Riklis first learned of from his Rabbi at a time when he was feeling beset with a sea of troubles. In the story, there is a literal sea, and a storm-wracked beach littered with dying starfish. While most of us might have thrown up our arms at the thought of trying to save these beautiful creatures, one boy is walking along the beach and one by one picking up the starfish and throwing back to the safety of the sea. That boy had chosen to BE, and that’s a choice we all can make when faced with troubles.

No one’s childhood is perfect, but if we’re fortunate, we grew up in a loving home with parents who provided for us, taught us, guided us and made us feel we were connected by family bonds that, while they may be strained at times, can never be broken. But, like the rest of us, Ira Riklis knows that not every child is so lucky. Some come from broken or dysfunctional families who weren’t able to provide them with the basic care and love they needed to feel secure. Some of these sift through the cracks of society; others get placed in institutions where they are treated as wards rather than loved ones.

That’s why Ira Riklis was so impressed on his first visit to the Emunah Bet Elazraki Children’s Home in Israel. What he saw that day led him to be a continuing supporter of the home. Though the 200-some children there came from families unable to properly care for them, once in the home they become part of a loving, extended family. The home’s directors and dedicated staff provide them with all they need to grow up to be loving adults and take their place in society.

Dr. William Zucker came to the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School of Business in 1972 as an adjunct professor. He soon became the associate director of the Entrepreneurial Center, and later the Director of Executive Education. Former students, including Ira Riklis remember him fondly. His classes were challenging, but highly rewarding. And his emphasis on real, hand’s-on experience in entrepreneurial efforts provided his students with the background and skills they needed to launch successful careers of their own.

Dr. Zucker left his mark on Wharton and on his students. As for many of his students, Dr. Zucker became more than just a teacher to Ira Riklis; he became a trusted mentor and was a close friend until his passing in 2006. It’s in honor of his memory and in the spirit of inspiring future generations of entrepreneurs that Ira Riklis recently funded the Dr. William Zucker Entrepreneurial Intern Fellowship. The fellowship provides exceptional students with internship opportunities. Once they’ve completed those, the students communicate their experiences and what they’ve learned to other students as ambassadors of entrepreneurship.

By now, we’ve all seen the blooper reels that have become popular on TV and online venues such as YouTube. We laugh at the various pratfalls, misadventures and ill-advised tricks and then move onto to something else. But Ira Riklis learned long ago from a child safety organization that even minor mishaps involving bicycles, especially for children, are no laughing matter.

Each year, some 300,000 children ages 14 and under are rushed to emergency rooms suffering from bicycle-related injuries. Even more sobering, nearly half of those admitted are diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury. Even colliding with the handlebars during low-speed crashes can result in serious injury. It doesn’t have to be that way. Sure, accidents will always happen, but much of the dangerous head trauma they cause can be eliminated simply by wearing a properly fitted helmet. That was the message the child safety organization gave to Ira Riklis in 1993 when they asked for—and received—his  support in providing 5,000 free helmets for local children.

OK, here’s a quiz. Suppose you’re alone, frail, poor, elderly and homebound. You can’t go out shopping and you can’t cook for yourself. What do you do to eat and stay alive? It’s a question Ira Riklis hopes you’re never faced with. But it’s one that tens of thousands of elderly New Yorkers must live with day in and day out. And unfortunately that number grows each year as our city’s elderly are one of the fastest growing demographic.

In the face of their need for food and companionship stands CityMeals-on-Wheels, a nonprofit organization founded in 1981 by chef James Beard, food critic Gael Greene and caterer and cookbook author Barbara Kafka. This core group raised $35,000 that year to provide a holiday dinner for 6,000 needy elderly. Today, with the help of friends like Ira Riklis and many concerned citizens and organizations, the group has evolved into a public-private partnership that raises $17.5 million and underwrites three-million meals each year.

The first Hebrew city established in three millennia, Tel Aviv recently celebrated its centennial as a vibrant modern city. It’s a center of Israeli finance. It’s home to distinguished educational institutions. And it’s a hub of arts and culture as well. The latter is represented by this YouTube video—discovered by Ira Riklis—of members of the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, mingling with the crowd in the Friday morning Food Market at Dizengoff Centre who all at once start singing a chorus piece from Verdi’s Il Trovatore.

But as Ira Riklis can tell you, there’s another side to Tel Aviv, one where forty percent of people live in poverty. That’s why he’s been a long-time supporter of the American Friends of the Tel Aviv Foundation, a group which engages donors and strategic partners in projects designed to meet the needs of these disadvantaged neighborhoods. The Foundation works not only in areas of social services, but in the arts, culture, the environment, education and sports.

With those words, the main character in philosopher-scientist Loren Eiseley’s essay “The Star Thrower” recognizes the immense, but immensely rewarding task he finds himself taking on. In the story, which Ira Riklis first learned of from his Rabbi, the task is throwing starfish—stranded along a long beach after a storm—one by one back into the in order to save their lives. In the larger view of course, the story is about much more: the immense work we take on when we seek to make a difference in the face in seemingly endless problems and need.

Eiseley’s character at first feels doubt. “I gave it up a long time ago,” he says, “Death is the only successful collector.” Ira Riklis, even though he’s been blessed with success that allows him to support worthy causes, has felt that same doubt. But in the parable, the character realizes that once we start, we must keep going. “I never looked [back] again.  The task we had assumed was too immense for gazing. I flung and flung again… The task was not to be assumed lightly, for it was men as well as starfish that we sought to save.”