Barry Chamish (OBM) & Me
There is a saying that a man holding a hammer is looking for a nail. I was saddened to hear that Barry Chamish died this week, at 64. I had a brief encounter with Barry probably around 1999, shortly after the publication of Who Murdered Yitzhak Rabin? (1998). I admired Barry's courage in publicising his detailed theories about the Rabin murder, at a time when the left wing purge and harassment of the right wing was in its hey-day. I invited Barry to my home in the still-young Ramat Beit Shemesh, and held a parlour meeting for the public to hear his presentation. We (literally) had a packed house with (I guess) nearly 100 people crammed into my salon. Barry arrived extremely late. This was in the days before cellphone were ubiquitous, and so we only heard the reason for his mysterious delay after Barry arrived, flustered and upset, at our house. Barry had arrived by taxi, which he ordered after dumping his car at a gas station somewhere on the Route 38. The