Howard Kestenbaum, a Man Who Knew So Much
If you want to be vice president of a big corporation, major in physics. At least that’s what Howard Kestenbaum did. A man who followed a unique path made sure to keep things intriguing. Intelligence is great on its own. Transferring what one knows is the real gift given by those out to make life better for others. Thankfully, Howard put what he possessed to good use.
The ability to gather a staggering amount of information in a brain is most meaningful when it is applied practically and compassionately. Howard did way more than help the world in theory. A likeable polymath’s intellect was matched by his decency.
A guy who worked in New York was a thorough New Jerseyan. Born in Newark, Howard lived in Montclair and belonged to Congregation Beth Ahm in Verona. He grew up in Maplewood, where he attended Columbia High School. The Garden State citizen took a detour to Massachusetts for the purpose of attending Williams College, from which he graduated in 1967.
Academics were just one area at which he excelled. Howard was the sort of intellectual who also adored sports not just as a spectator but as an enthusiastic applier of energy and physics. A dominant high school wrestler went on to compete for his college team while also being a member of the Saint Anthony Hall fraternity. Sadly, the school suffered other unimaginable losses on September 11, 2001: Howard was one of three alumni murdered that day.
Williams was just his first collegiate stop. Howard eventually went from Columbia High school to Columbia University where he earned a Ph.D. in physics. He finished his formal education by becoming a literal rocket scientist, which was surely helpful while trying to explain why something’s not difficult.
Yet Howard decided he no longer wanted to work as a physicist. He moved into the insurance industry after feeling spurred by his daughter Lauren’s birth to change careers. That new path brought him to 2 World Trade Center’s 103rd floor as Aon Corporation’s vice president in charge of risk analysis. The work involved explaining to clients just how probable any potential peril would be. His office was the one with a paper cup he hung from the ceiling which showed how the building concurrently swayed in the wind as a neat demonstration of practical science that seemed to offer a nice personality summary.
Meeting his life partner similarly reflected a tendency to make life captivating. Howard and his wife Granvilette were wed for 31 years after first meeting when he accidentally fell on her at a West Village party in a story sounds like the way characters would meet in a script. But it was as true as it was genuine. On that note, Granvilette pointed out they did not have a movie relationship but one in which two real people created something far more meaningful by working to make their marriage meaningful in actuality.
Howard maintained his zeal for astronomy even after it was no longer his profession. His wife donated his beloved telescope to the September 11 Museum in what’s a fitting memento of a fervent hobby that displayed his accumulated edification. It got a lot of use. He often eagerly took her outside in the middle of cold nights to show her cosmic events. Granvilette learned to claim she saw what he wanted her to spot so they could go back inside. He didn’t just take a closer look at celestial objects: Howard also had another telescope in his office to view the closer wonders of New York City’s sights. A person who was no longer employed as an astrophysicist worked in the sky.
He was committed to doing his job while helping others up to and including on his final day. Howard guided employees to the Sky Lobby after terrorists first attacked the other tower in an attempt to facilitate evacuation. Remaining calm when guidance was needed during a chaotic moment is a hallmark of the exact sort of person a company would want employed as a manager of hazard. The human side of calculating how to help can’t be measured.
Howard is is honored where he worked. His name can be found on the South Pool’s Panel S-53 of the National September 11 Memorial at the site where he put his talents to use. Aon employed someone capable of assessing threats who, as Columbia colleague William Ku aptly put it in an online guest book, died “ironically in a senseless risk event no one could calculate.” He was 56 years old. The fact Howard achieved so much in such a diverse range of employment, activities, and charitable endeavors in the time he had is a quality in multiple senses.
There’s much to learn from someone who learned much. Howard was a fascinating human whose list of accomplishments reads like those of an improbable fictional character. But he did it all in our world. A science-minded executive who helped out in his synagogue’s homeless shelter and devotedly followed baseball diversified his interests and concerns.
Someone capable of sharing his expertise is a unique presence to be cherished by those in that person’s orbit. Howard was approachable in a fortunate way for someone with such a staggering intellect. Knowing a lot is best when paired with knowing what’s important.
Howard used his innumerable aptitudes to help others whether at work or elsewhere. He maximized his remarkable capacities to the benefit of those blessed to have had him in their lives. Look to the stars as a tribute.
