Reunion in Zermatt

1. Pension Kegel The electric car of Pension Kegel was waiting for me outside the railway station. Fastening my scarf to keep out the crisp air of a typical dawn in Zermatt, I walked briskly up the platform and got in. As often before, I breathed the clean air in deeply and with satisfaction. The absence of fuel driven motorcars was a blessing. The electric car driver, who was also the sole concierge of the modest establishment, manoeuvred his ramshackle vehicle adroitly through the narrow and winding lanes of my favourite Swiss resort. I observed with a grim smile that for him, too, time had not stood still: his wrinkles had deepened and his hair had turned silver grey. Bestowing on me the smile reserved for old customers, he carried my suitcase up the stairs to the reception counter. ...

1. Josephus and the Great Jewish Revolt I doubt if Pilkin and I would have become mates had it not been for the Josephus Flavius trial staged by TA.1 in 1950. Although the War of Independence was by then long over, Israel had not fully recovered from its economic and social effects. Commodities were scarce, prices were high and the black market was booming. One of the objectives of Israeli schools of that period was to turn its pupils into good citizens. Nobody was held in greater contempt than a traitor to the struggle for the survival of the two years old nation. ...

1. We Attend Trials Our teacher granted us leave to attend court hearings during three mornings dominated by classes on science. As Pilkin’s home was not far from the District Court building, I went to pick him up early in the morning. His mother’s unadorned poorly furnished flat on the top floor of a run down apartment block made me gape. Obviously, his late father had not left them well off. Embarrassed, I remembered Shosh had told me that, when opportunity presented itself, Pilkin and his young brother, David, carried out odd jobs, such as deliveries, doubling up for newspaper vendors and occasional home repairs. To my relief, Pilkin appeared unaware of my consternation. He watched with satisfaction as I sipped the cup of hot and aromatic lemon tea his mother brought me and then showed me, with relish, his small but neatly organised and catalogued collection of coins. ...

As I stretched myself comfortably on the bed in Pension Kegel in Zermatt, I kept musing on my days with law firms and in universities. The foundation was laid when, some three years after our initial encounter, Jacob Keren accepted me as a trainee. During the years I had spent with him, I learned much about the law and life in general. By the time I left Israel, I had – under Keren’s guidance – developed a penchant for rescuing losing cases. That gift stood me in good stead during my years in Wellington, in Melbourne and in Singapore. All the same, my greatest success as a lawyer remained the trial of Josephus Flavius in TA.1. Smilingly, I allowed myself to stray back to it. ...

1. A Budding Actor In most regards, my success at the trial remained a Pyhrric victory. In the minds of the public, a worn cliché – “there is no smoke without fire” – defeated the logical argument. Josephus’ reputation remained as tarnished as ever. All the same, the historical trial of the long deceased historian constituted a milestone in my career. Recalling it vividly during the dinner in Pension Kegel, some 45 years after the event, I concluded that the prelude to the great football match remained my neatest achievement as a lawyer. Single handed, I had won a battle that took place in an unsympathetic, even prejudiced, forum. Relaxing in Pension Kegel’s comfortable sitting room as I sipped a cup of aromatic coffee, I mused on the episode and on the major effect it introduced into my erstwhile lonesome existence: it cemented a bond between Pilkin and myself. ...

1. Turkey It took us just over two years to save enough money. By then, I had nearly finished my pupillage at Jacob Keren & Associates. Pilkin was slogging his way through his course at the Hebrew University and making every effort to shine on the stage. Sipping a second glass of Cognac in the comfortable dining room in Pension Kegel, I recalled with amusement the unadorned berth my friend and I had taken on a Turkish ship sailing along the coast of Anatolia to Istanbul. It had been a no-frills trip marked by the need to economise. Yet, despite the parsimony dictated by our circumstances, our adventure had left a deeper impression on me than the many high class tours and neatly planned excursions I had enjoyed later on in life. ...

1. Leah Early next morning, as the Matterhorn emerged in its splendour at the first rays of light, I resumed my vigil. Soon the electric cars started to arrive from the station but the patrons alighting from them bore no resemble to my Pilkin of old. By 9.00 a.m. I threw in the towel. For all I knew, Pilkin might be snoring in a comfortable room in some other hotel in Zermatt. Despite his formidable size, he constituted a needle not easily pinpointed in the haystack of the buoyant flow of tourists in the popular resort. ...

1. Meandering About Life As I relaxed over lunch in a booth table in the mountain establishment on the Riffelalp, I kept reflecting on the forty years that had passed since the days spent by Pilkin and me in Zermatt. Professionally, I had made it. Although I was not destined to develop into a court room virtuoso, it had not taken me long to rise from strength to strength in Jacob Keren & Associates. Initially, I had worked with Hannah Hod, the scion of an old Jewish family from Hamburg, who was a few years my senior. We won many of our cases and, in the process, developed a good, even if unromantic, friendship. ...

1. We Meet My neatly tailored three piece grey suit, white shirt and fashionable tie did little to ease the pounding of my heart as I followed the concierge through the imposing dining room of the Zermattschein. Would I recognise Pilkin as soon as I spotted our table? Had his appearance changed as much as mine? For all I knew, he could by now have become the heart and soul of parties given in his honour by a group of jolly grandchildren! ...

1. Pilkin’s Remaining Years in Israel At this point, the waiter wheeled in a trolley with our main courses. As soon as he departed – having re-filled our wine glasses – I said: “Well, now it’s your turn, mon Cher Pilkin – or shall I say Rabbi Zohar?” “At you service,” he smiled benignly. “And ‘Pilkin’ will do!” “So out with it!” “Where shall I start?” he asked, smacking his lips as he savoured the excellent goose. ...