Simon Perchik
Uncle Shimmy
Vaughn is the beloved grandson of Simon Perchik (1923-2022)
“The most widely published unknown poet in America”. He was also one of the first environmental lawyers in the Country, long before it was fashionable to be environmentally conscious. An incredible man who valued hard work, integrity, and the simple joys of life. He often said he taught Vaughn everything he knew, which was mostly true…It was certainly true of Vaughn’s poetic writing style and his excellent chess and poker skills!
The following information is provided by Cousin Lisa Crowder. It is a mix of information passed down by her grandmother, Fay Perchik Feld, who was Simon’s older sister; Simon himself, and other relatives.
Simon was born Seymore Perchik in 1923 and his Hebrew name was Shimon, so his sister called him Shimmy.
Fay was forced to quit school in 6th grade to help take care of all her brothers and sisters while their parents, Benjamin and Rachel, worked in the store in Paterson, New Jersey. She loved to read and felt that books could take her anywhere she wanted to be in the world. While she regretted leaving school, she loved her little brother Shimmy and his twin Ester, very much. She often told her granddaughter Lisa that Shimmy was her favorite of all the kids. While Fay married to get out of the house and eventually moved to Florida, she always spoke fondly of Shimmy.
Uncle Shimmy’s father was Benjamin Perchik and he was from Pilsk, Poland, which was formerly in Russia. There were 2,600 Jews living there when he emigrated to the United States in the early 1900s. Benjamin was a Mensa level intellect, a writer, and spoke and wrote in 7 or 8 languages. He taught his daughter Fay poetry and songs and sang to the children in all languages. Benjamin had a lot of hair, became a weaver in a silk mill until it shut down, and eventually became a grocer. He died of a cerebral hemorrhage in 1941.
It is obvious that Benjamin passed down a love of reading and poetry to his kids and Uncle Shimmy took that to another whole level. Uncle Shimmy’s mother’s name was Rachel/Rose Moore and she worked in the general store they had until she had a stroke. Rachel was known for being businesswoman. Shimmy’s twin Ester, or Estelle, died of Rheumatic fever at 15-years-old because they didn’t have a cure for it then. I’m sure that was hard on him at a young age. Benjamin and Rachel ended up having six kids: Fay, Sadie, Morris, Shimmy, Ester and Gary. Uncle Morris told his son Ben that Perchik translated into “pepper seller.” Benjamin Perchik’s father was Meir and Rachel’s father was Gershon. Benjamin had a brother named Arthur who lived in Queens. Benjamin, Rachel, and Shimmy’s twin are all buried in King Solomon Cemetery, in Clifton, New Jersey.
When we first met Uncle Shimmy, we were surprised at how full of life he was, and we were impressed by his constant search for knowledge. Uncle Shimmy had a way of making you feel you were the only person in the room and that everything you shared was interesting. While we found his military service and different careers, fascinating, he barely talked about himself. He loved to ask what our son Benjamin, who was named after his dad, was up to. He told us he was proud of him and bragged to everyone about him. This made us feel special, that someone who lived so long, who was so accomplished, and that we had only met in person a few times, would take an interest in a young kid.
He loved to hear about our family and while Covid put a dent in his travel plans, he hoped it would be a memory soon. He was still writing, having some luck with his publishing, and was looking forward to leaving his house. He told us that he would have liked to go visit his friend in Florida and stop in and see us along the way.
Since my grandma loved him, Uncle Shimmy had a special place in my heart and keeping in contact with him provided a link back to her. I was also struck by Uncle Shimmy’s sense of humor. Two years ago, he asked me if I could find out who created his Wikipedia page. He wanted to thank him or her but didn’t don’t know where to begin his search. He said that since I’m the head of the FBI, he figured that I had my ways. I found this hilarious since I was far from being the Director and I was sure that Uncle Shimmy kept a very close eye on what was posted on him. I wish I had gotten the chance to know him better as he was an amazing man. May his memory be a blessing to all who knew him.
“When I finish with a poem, there’s nothing to explicate. It’s a little like music. When you listen to Beethoven you don’t ask what he is saying. You’re purely having a feeling or an emotional reaction and if I’ve done it right, you will not be able to relate why you’re experiencing those emotions.”
– Si Perchik
Simon Perchik reads a poem
"This coffee is still learning"
