- Date Of Birth: April 1, 1917
- Date Of Death: April 19, 2007
- State: Florida
Melvin M. Kessler, age 90, passed away April 19, 2007, while under hospice care in Crestview, Florida.
Mel was born April 1, 1917 in Chicago. During WWII Mel served as a US Army Corps weather observer in China and India. After the war, he continued his Central Asian studies and earned his BA from UCLA and MA in Slavic Languages from the University of California at Berkey.
In 1950 he met and married Janet Byrkit, his companion of more than 51 years. They had three sons.
In 1973 he was sent on Special Assignment to Saigon as historian for the Defense Attaché Office. He served there until the evacuation in 1975 when the city was overtaken. He took part in the “Baby Flights Operation” rescuing refugees from Saigon.
Mel was preceded in death by his parents, George and Anna Kessler, his wife Janet and his brother Sydney Kessler. Mel is survived by his sons and their families: Peter and Judy Kessler of California; Tim and Irene Kessler of Washington State; and David Kessler of Louisiana. There are 5 grandchildren Nicholas, Christina, Erika, Daniel and Elizabeth along with two nieces Susan and Danalee Ramsey, and two nephews Mike Rasmey and Alan Mostrom
Melvin Milton “Mel” Kessler
By all accounts, Melvin Milton Kessler was a committed teacher and a lifelong learner, always ready to share an obscure and relevant fact that he had learned over the years throughout his studies and travels. It seems appropriate then to begin this afternoon by teaching everyone a Hebrew word: Sabra.
From his humble beginnings as the son of a Polish tailor and a Russian mother from Odessa, Mel began his life odyssey in Chicago, moving to Milwaukee at the age of 12. After studying to become a furrier, Mel left the fur business and his family home for the first time in 1942 to serve in the U.S. Army Corps as a weather observer, only after experiencing air sickness while a flying cadet. Mel served in China and India during the War, leading to his lifelong appreciation for Asian culture.
Following the War, Mel attended UCLA and the University of California at Berkeley, where he earned degrees in Slavic languages and central Asian studies. It was while studying at Berkeley that Mel met Jan, his wife for 51 years. At their fiftieth anniversary celebration Mel displayed his love and devotion for his wife through a remarkable speech still discussed by members of the family. Through their years of marriage, Mel and Jan had three wonderful sons: Peter, Tim, and David, whom they loved dearly. A big proponent of formal education, Mel was extremely proud of his sons for graduating college and for all of their achievements and successes.
Mel’s love for history and education led to many family vacations spent at the colonial re-creation in Williamsburg, Virginia, as well as other sites of historical significance. During the seven years spent living in the Washington, DC area, working for the CIA, Mel took countless day trips and vacations to historical landmarks and battlefields.
With his sons Mel made some sacrifices over the years, once camping out for a week, though camping was something that he quickly vowed to never do again. Mel tried to skateboard with his sons once, and when his Peter offered his skateboard, Mel managed to climb aboard and glide gracefully down the street…for about five feet when he fell off and sprained his ankle. The bicycle that Tim bought for Mel was similarly unpopular; Mel was never seen actually riding the bike, perhaps because he was too tired after playing tennis.
Throughout his retirement, Mel worked hard to remain active physically and mentally, playing tennis regularly past his eightieth birthday, and watching any and every tennis match he could find on T.V. Mel was even featured on a local news broadcast for his love of the sport. Amazingly, Mel taught himself how to play tennis by reading several books on the sport, and he was a great player.
Mel also taught himself to play the Balalaika, locking himself in his room to practice his plucking, though whether he improved over the years was a subject of family debate. Eventually, Mel played with a traveling band around the country. The Balalaika was just another way for Mel to make friends around the country, as fellow players and ethnic music buffs in cities near and far knew him for his wit and love for the instrument. Beyond the Balalaika, music in general was one of Mel’s greatest passions. He especially appreciated the works of Russian composers, particularly Prokofiev. But Mel also wanted to instill a love for music in others, often buying musical instruments and music lessons as gifts for family members and friends, demonstrating his love of music and his desire to help people.
Before and after his retirement Mel was quite involved in the world of philately, or stamp collecting. Mel worked as a judge and dealer at countless stamp shows, starting both the Chelmsford Stamp Club and the West Florida Stamp Society along the way. Mel’s interest in stamps was an offshoot of his interest in learning history, as he enjoyed learning the minute details about the stamps he collected. His seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of stamps helped Mel make money as a stamp collector, as he once managed to buy an under-valued stamp for fifty cents, turning to sell it for one thousand dollars.
Mel’s interest in stamp collecting paralleled his love of correspondence by paper and pen, never via computer. A “prolific letter writer,” Mel maintained correspondence with countless people around the world that he met through his travels and work, including two Vietnamese families that he rescued and sponsored for immigration to America. Mel also enjoyed writing in general, authoring a monograph on “Czarist Expansion to Central Asia” writing articles for academic journals and even a column in the monthly temple bulletin, often illuminating unknown Jewish history. Writing provided another opportunity for Mel to teach and share his vast knowledge with others, living by the axiom, “knowledge not shared is knowledge lost.” Mel was committed to learning and teaching others, friends, family, and acquaintances. Mel helped his son David better understand great works of literature and the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, told the world the history of the Eglin refugee camp, and was always willing to share his deep love for Russian and Asian history and culture.
Mel’s serious interest in photography led to excellent family photos that took about as long as a painted portrait, because he was a perfectionist. Camera around his neck, Mel looked like the stereotypical tourist, though during “Operation Baby Lift” a remarkable picture of Mel, camera around his neck and a baby asleep in his arms, shows the warm, caring, sensitive side that so many of us knew so well. From still life photography to cinema, in recent years Mel developed a real appreciation for old, classic, silent films, often staying up to watch silent movies on TV.
While Mel enjoyed taking pictures, he enjoyed eating even more. Mel loved his food. Though Jan did most of the cooking, Mel enjoyed making a few delicacies like matzah and eggs, smoked whitefish, and a unique “Williamsburg Bread” that the family loved to eat. Mel went to every restaurant in town, and did not hesitate to offer feedback to anyone that would listen. Mel’s love of ice cream and lack of weight loss belied claims to his family that he was hardly eating. Further evidence of Mel’s sweet tooth was witnessed on his ninetieth birthday, just a few weeks ago, when he insisted on licking the chocolate icing off the candles on his cake. And of course, we mustn’t forget the fifth love in Mel’s life: Callahan’s Restaurant. There are many urban legends circulating: Mel went every weekend to Callahan’s, first with his wife Jan, and then with his close friend Gail. Mel never paid for a meal at Callahan’s. Mel would quickly walk past confused new servers and into the kitchen to greet the chef and deliver nova lox for special omelets. Mel knew what he liked to eat, and that was that.
That attitude extended beyond cuisine. In life, Mel insisted on doing things his way.
And of course, right along with Mel’s stubbornness there was his sense of humor. While wandering the streets of New Orleans with his son Tim, Mel came upon a group of beggars leaning up against a wall in the French Quarter. Mel joined the beggars with his hand out, just to see if anyone would give him money. After a few minutes Mel made a couple of dollars, despite his fancy hat and tweed jacket.
There is so much more to say, so many more stories to share. Mel brought incredible wisdom and knowledge to everyone he touched and impacted. As a teacher, as a scholar, as a friend, he will be greatly missed. His pride in his sons’ work and his own accomplishments as a scholar are inspiring.
