I read Tuesday morning about Isadore Millstone, a 102-year-old man in St. Louis who devoted his life and vast wealth to helping others. He was a man who fought for equal rights for African-Americans when it was still daring to do so. He was a man who eschewed personal possessions and devoted his riches -- Millstone made millions as a local businessman -- to the greater good of his town's people. He was a proud father and a twice-married man, whose first wife of 68 years died in 1997, followed by his second wife 10 years later.

Then, on Monday, May 18th, Isadore E. Millstone leaped off of the Daniel Boone Bridge into the Missouri River, where he was found floating more than a week later. The suicide elicited an enormous range of reactions -- from reflective and praising of Mr. Millstone's long and generous life, to spiteful, anti-semitic tirades against Jews and suicide.

But the majority of those who've offered their memories and thoughts on Mr. Millstone agree that he had lived an exemplary life, and that if he decided to end it at age 102, then that was choice to make, that he surely had good reason, and that's OK.

I agree with that sentiment. Mr. Millstone had survived two wives, two children, and countless friends. He had never lived ostentatiously, opting instead for a modest lifestyle and giving money to those who needed it. In other words, he lived for others, not for money. And when all of those people who had been dearest to him had passed, he apparently felt no more need to live himself. Or maybe he was just tired.

Either way, I think we could all take a page from Isadore Millstone's book, and while I'm certainly not suggesting we all commit suicide, I will say that we might consider living more for others than for ourselves.

[Image: St. Louis Jewish Light]