All About Karen, Daniel, Julie and Rachel

Have you ever known the feeling generated by a phone call from a young boy hiding in his closet from his irate father? The terror in his whisper. The agony in his words. The helplessness he feels. Suddenly! He's discovered and grabbed from his haven. The call is terminated abruptly, leaving you overwhelmed by the possibilities of what may be occurring.

Daniel is imperfect, which infuriates his father. He's a special education student. Yet, he is perfect, with the most genuinely benevolent soul I'll ever know. One December morning, at four o'clock, a poke in my upper arm awakened me. I opened my eyes and looked to my right. Three-year-old Daniel, dressed in a T-shirt and diapers, and carrying a blanket, said, "Hi!" I had arrived at his home for a five-day visit seven hours earlier. Daniel already had gone to bed. I rolled off the couch and gave him a hug. He started dancing in my embrace.

That was one of many special moments with him.

Generally, each morning of my visit, Daniel and his sisters would wake me at (yuck) 6:30. One would sit on my stomach; another on my legs; while the third laid next to me. They would turn on the television. But they didn't tune in Teletubbies or Barney & Friends. They'd watch CNBC with me. It was so cute. They knew the anchors and some of the analysts. But most of all, they knew the ticker symbols. TWX was Bugs Bunny. DIS was Mickey Mouse. MCD was Big Mac. VIA was Nickelodeon. Sometimes, they'd start cheering, "It's green!" Or bemoan, "Oh, Uncle Alan, Mickey Mouse is red!" And their uncle was blue.

Saying good-bye always was painful for each of us. I'd always lift and hold Daniel. He'd rest his head on my shoulder and close his eyes, never wanting to let me go.

One Labor Day weekend, when he was age seven, created the best memory. We had a great weekend at DisneyQuest, an indoor Disney theme park, which closed three years after it opened. When it was time to leave for the airport, beginning my return to Los Angeles, Daniel was laying on his bed, next to his mother, who was reading to him. I kissed him good-bye and told him I'd see him at Christmastime, then went downstairs to gather my luggage. I looked up. Daniel had followed me downstairs and said, "Uncle Alan, I just wanted to say good-bye." I gave him another hug and a kiss, and told him I'd see him soon. He returned upstairs. As his father searched for his car keys, Daniel was walking downstairs. "Uncle Alan, I just wanted to say good-bye." I just held him. He again returned upstairs. After his father found his car keys, the phone rang and he answered it, while Daniel was walking down the stairs. "Uncle Alan, I just wanted to say good-bye." I again picked him up and assured him I'd only be gone for three months. "I know," he replied, "but can't you stay forever?"

Karen and Daniel were so excited when I visited them at their school, the prestigious North Shore Country Day School. They showed me their classrooms. We had lunch in the cafeteria. Then we toured the beautiful campus. They always were thrilled to be at the same place at the same time with (as Dan called me) his "best uncle."

In 2000, his father and I took Daniel and Karen to Wrigley Field for a game between the Cubs and the New York Mets. We had taken Karen to a game when she was three-years-old. She spent most of it sitting on my lap, saying, "I want to go see Harry (Caray) in the ABC's (WGN booth)." But the Mets game was the official first of the next generation. Their father and I started attending Cubs games when were slightly older than the children.

For each visit, I always gave them a stack of coloring books and box of washable markers. When she was six, Karen said, "How come you always bring us presents?" I said I liked to spoil them and asked whether she liked the gifts. "We don't want your presents. We just want you."

They created enough artwork for me to fill a small museum. The paintings are more glorious than any created by Renoir and Monet. But the best gift I ever received was a Steve Sax baseball card from Daniel on Father's Day, in 2000. The card itself paled in comparison to the expression on Daniel's face.

I gave him a gift in return. For a class project, Daniel needed to ask someone who did not live in Illinois to take (Flat) Stanley, the boy who one day awoke as thin as a sheet of paper. It's kind of a juvenile version of Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis. Instead of a dung beetle who can't move, Stanley uses his new shape to slide under doorways and hide in airplanes, traveling to distant lands for adventures. Daniel's Stanley visited Hollywood. We took photographs outside Paramount and Walt Disney studios, as well as in the Grauman's Chinese Theater courtyard. Also included were some souvenirs, a map, a copy of my all-time favorite movie, Gremlins 2: The New Batch (for my all-time favorite nephew), some composite photos of Hollywood Stan for a touch of comedy and a letter telling Daniel about our adventure, thanking him for being the best nephew any uncle would ever want. Months later, he told me his favorite part of the package was the letter.

Then, in January 2001, their sister Rachel was born. Cute, sweet and so giving. If I was seated on the sofa, she was in my lap. It's funny. I never thought I'd experience a more wonderful moment at Dodger Stadium than watching Kirk Gibson hit the home run that won the first game of the 1988 World Series. My beautiful Rachel topped it. While looking into my eyes, with an innocent smile on her face, she said, "I dream about you." With her inclusion and the other children's physical growth, good-byes contained a subtle comedy within the sadness. Karen would hug me on my right; Daniel on my left; Julie around my waist and Rachel around my right knee. We'd rival the ensemble newsroom hug during the final episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

Now, they're gone. Property of a controlling totalitarian state, fearful of the power of the human soul. Daniel once tried to flee the pain, tearfully asking if he could live with me. The controlling powers at the Kremlin never would agree to such a request. I know; I asked. Problems exist, he believes, because Daniel trusted me to help him. Daniel is not a stupid moron. Never was; never will be.

The Berlin Wall was erected.

Paradise lost.