Erin Dyer When I think of Idan, I immediately think of that bright smile and boisterous laugh of his. It was the smile and laugh I faced whenever I trudged into BU's Events Center, bundled up beneath a million layers and wrapped in a scarf to keep away from the cold. Even if I had the grumpiest look on my face, Idan would give me this enthusiastic wave, say something energetic to hype me up for the game, and give me the biggest hug right when I entered the building. I also think of his chants at the basketball games. They were loud, creative, and of course, often very funny. In an instant, the rest of the pep band would be joining him. His spirit and energy was infectious, clearly. I specifically can think of numerous times where he would do a funny chant and once finished, would turn around with the brightest smile on his face, eager to see the rest of our reactions. Although he did it to cheer on the team, it was clear he loved to see our happiness. Idan worked hard to make others smile and he was amazing at that self-proclaimed job of his. The picture I shared is one of my favorites and a classic moment with him - goofy, silly, and full of laughs and smiles. Thank you for all you taught me, Idan. Thank you for showing me true passion - for friends, studies, and music. Thank you for teaching me how to smile even in frustrating times (like drowning in music request forms - I warned you that job would suck, but of course you took it with stride). Thank you for being an ear for me to vent to and a shoulder to cry on when I needed it most. Thank you for drumming along with us. A drummer is the true backbone to any band and Idan was definitely that for each of us, even beyond playing music. I love and miss you so much. I am sure you will always be cheering each and every one of us on, just as you always did.

Brian Beyer Idan carried his contagious positivity everywhere he went, and it was always a joy to have him around. For the past 3 years I've watched from higher up in the bleachers, and this man was not only enjoying every second of his life, but making sure everyone around him was too. Idan, you were a role model for us all and we will dearly miss you.

Shelli Cohen In the beginning of the year, I began cooking in the Chabad kitchen on Thursday mornings. Every time I walked into the kitchen Idan greeted me with a warm hello and a smile and got right to work. He learned that I'm terrified of big knives. When someone told me to grab a knife, and all I saw was those massive knives hanging on the wall of the Chabad kitchen, Idan rushed to get me a small knife from the drawer. He handed me a normal sized knife and said "here use this one, it's the one that Rivky uses." From then on, I went into the drawer every week to grab a small knife. Idan, I don't want to have to go back into the kitchen without you. Who's going to listen to what I'm learning in my math classes, while I peel and chop carrots? You were so special. You took time to listen to me talk out a math problem when I couldn't solve it. You'd offer to bring my pizza upstairs when I was too busy to come and get it. You had the biggest heart. I miss you.

Rebecca Harris Idan- I've been getting through these past days watching Big Mouth and "It's Alive with Brad", and listening to Sisters by St. Motel. All were things we shared a love for. Writing and seeing our friendship on paper has been cathartic, devastating. Yet, I am ever thankful of you in my life. Just to share a few memories: We argue the first time we became friends. I think it was the first weekend, when we all hung out at Hayes together. Idan still claims that we only became friends a week after that one, the next Friday. That day, we ran into each other in the dining hall. He was holding his penny skateboard, this dinky little skateboard that he glided around campus with. I can’t remember what we talked about, but we probably joked about boating, or something else irrelevant to anything around us. We looked at the penny board and the idea came to us. We somehow ended up climbing through the nature preserve in search of the perfect stick to use as a paddle. Once that was acquired, we propped Idan on his skateboard and he rowed himself across the concrete with the stick. We were a two-man team, a captain and a mate on a ship on land. When that stopped working (it never really started), I just held one end of the stick and pushed him around on his skateboard, projecting him forward. If you saw two idiots proudly standing on a skateboard like Lewish and Clarke, Idan and I can claim that title. Danny, Idan and I played Settlers of Catan in the lounge of C4. Our first time playing together, we found a stray freshman, alone and looking friendless. One of us asked him to join; it was most likely Idan, he tapped in and reached out to people in a way most people did not know how to. Looking back at our group message, Idan excitedly reported running into John (our friend, I think) and trying to friend him on facebook to invite him to our games again. Sadly, we never found him or played with him again, but Idan was always on the lookout. Idan and I swapped music often; I never thought I had a specific taste until he showed me all the same songs that he liked. This past year, after I went to a St. Motel concert, I tried introducing him to their songs, but he insisted he already knew them all. Every time we saw each other, we’d pop up and down like groundhogs in beat with the intro tune of our favorite song. One time in Chabad, we saw each other across the room and belted, over the loud roar of the room, the opening line of Sisters (by St. Motel) to each other: “Ya Ya! Ooh oooh oooh yay a ya! .... so let’s give it up for SISTERS”. We sometimes drifted apart. But throughout the years, we always redrifted back into each other’s lives, eager to report something the other one had missed during our time apart: music, TV episodes, the latest pep band drama. Idan was always there even when he wasn’t. It was unspoken that we were always there for each other. All I can express is my deepest gratitude that I had a friendship with you, Idan, that could fill pages. I do not take it for granted that I experienced your friendship, your love, your kindness, humor, wit, respect, dependability. You have changed the meaning of the word “friend”. Not everyone is so lucky to have a friend that always listens, to always be there to prop their chin on your shoulder, a friend who I think about with the utmost respect and admiration. You lived life to the fullest: squeezing friendships, games, hugs, education, music, dancing, carousals, into every minute. This I will always hold with me.

David Calamari Idan and I never took many pictures together, this was really the only one I could find. This was taken in 2014 when I first met Idan while taking a lifeguard course at our local JCC. I had known Idan's brother, Gilad, for years because we swam on the same team. Idan and I quickly became good friends and would often goof around after the class. We went on to assist in teaching the class together for three years, and became even better friends. I don't remember a single time I was with Idan when he didn't make me laugh or the other way around. We always got a good laugh from figuring out ways to give the lifeguards in training the hardest possible time rescuing us from the water. Idan was one of the funniest, kindest, and happiest people I've had the privilege of knowing. He will be greatly missed.

Malka Iskowitz Idan, it’s hard for me to comprehend that you are gone. Not only have I lost a friend but I lost a member of our close cafe family. As self appointed manager, you were the glue that held us together. You always had the solution to any problem that would arise. Thanks for driving me to and from cafe. Thanks for making me cheese-less pizza. Thank you for sharing all your secrets with me and allowing me to do the same with you. Thank you for being a huge part of my Binghamton experience. I will miss all our Saturday, Monday, and Thursday nights together. I will miss belting out “Closing Time” with you at the end of every cafe. It was truly a privilege being your friend and I will never forget you and your amazing smile.

Hannah Kaplun At the beginning of this school year, I was kind of lost. As a freshmen, I was trying to figure out where I would be happy, how to maximize my time in college, and how to accomplish all my lofty goals. I was of course excited, but also really overwhelmed. Towards the beginning of the year on a Thursday morning, I decided to go to Chabad to cook for shabbat. Previously, I had only seen Idan in passing on Friday nights making announcements about cafe and yelling "is anyone vegetarian?" (it always amazed me how his voice could carry over the chatter of 300+ people). Now, I had a chance to talk, laugh, listen to Israeli music, with everyone in the kitchen. This, of course, included Idan. It always impressed me that Idan never bossed anyone around. You knew he was in charge because of his competence and charisma, not because he acted better than everyone. He was always smiling and joking, keeping us up to date with pep band and all his crazy assignments and tests. The look on Idan's face every time he transferred that huge, heavy, pot of soup from the counter to the stove was priceless. Idan patiently delegated tasks and make sure everything was of the highest standard. When cooking took longer than expected, he never complained about homework or being busy-- he alwasy stayed till the end. Idan, thank you for making me feel at home in the chabad kitchen, and by extension chabad. We all miss you a lot.

Matan Karudo I’ve been reading these lovely letters about Idan and I’d love to share some thoughts about a valuable friend. I met Idan my freshman year at Chabad. Our brothers are friends and I got to know him better through Shabbats at Hayes and freshman events. We also lived near each other on the other side of campus, which reminds me of one my favorite memories. It was a cold motzei shabbat and the Tier One committee wanted to do a communal Havdalah at Mountainview/CIW. But to their dismay, there were a total of three people that came, Idan, Danny Gabel, and I. Another favorite memory of mine was when I volunteered at Chabad for Kitchen preparations and I saw Idan use the vegetable slicer machine to cut these huge cucumbers into cucumber chips. I gazed at him and the machine in awe, since I’ve never seen such an amazing machine like this, and I thought that Chabad bought these sliced vegetables. He then looks at me and says “Its a cool machine isn’t it?”, and following that I always expressed to him how much I want to use that machine. When I think about Idan. I start to smile. Like the introspective Beatles song I’ve been listening to an awful lot lately, A Day in the Life, “I read the news today, oh boy… And though the news was rather sad Well, I just had to laugh.” I think about the beacon of light and good energy that was Idan. I think about how we used to catch up when I came to cafe. I think about how he was a big fan of the oneg at Hayes. I see him in my memories greeting people, waving, smiling, helping, and as a result, I cannot help but laugh and smile when I think about him. There are so many positive traits I can pick up from Idan, but if there’s a thing you can learn from his short life, its to always give, smile, help, and be happy. Thank you Idan for being a beam of positive energy and a star of a friend. -Matan

Sarah Cassidy Before I truly met Idan, I was simply an admirer. I have a vivid memory of walking into math class on the first day of ninth grade and seeing him in the back of the room. I had never seen him before and had a strange urge to get to know him. I soon realized that we had almost every single class together. So, I would follow him to class every day. I remember admiring his confidence; even though it was a huge school, Idan always seemed to know where he was going and what he was doing. Soon after, we became good friends through marching band. I truly think that music was the start of our friendship. Through marching band, symphonic orchestra, jazz band, and pit orchestra, I saw the innate passion that Idan had for music. The joy that arose from his face whenever he played the drums is indescribable. While music brought us together, our relationship was far more than that. Not only was Idan a beloved and valued member of our friend group, he meant the world to me personally. He was sweet, cheeky and ever so charming. He could always find something to tease me about and I could always do the same to him. Beyond anything else, Idan was always a loyal friend. One of my most cherished memories of Idan is when I called him one night in distress. However, I had forgotten that he was on vacation in South Africa and that it was close to 4am. When I realized my mistake, I told him I would call at a different point, but Idan wanted to talk to me right then and there. While I felt guilty, we ended up talking. He later texted me that he would answer the phone anytime I needed. That was the type of friend Idan was each and every day. He constantly put others before himself and was wholeheartedly dedicated to making others feel special. My relationship with Idan really developed senior year. By that point, we were pretty much inseparable. When we weren't in school or hanging out together, we were always texting or calling one another. One of the sweetest things that Idan did for me was ask me to prom. He wrote and performed a rendition of one of my favorite Hamilton songs. To this day, it was the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me. While everyone says that prom is overrated, I had the best time with Idan. We had a great time dancing, singing, and laughing. To make it even better, we spent the entire weekend with the rest of our friend group. It was the most perfect weekend ever. Once we graduated, Idan and I both worked at Mohawk Day Camp. Although we both hated the job, I think we both enjoyed seeing each other every day. We would often spend time after camp watching movies, cooking or just talking for hours. Idan even taught me how to skateboard that summer! The day before Idan left for college was my birthday. Idan threw me the most amazing surprise party and made me a beautiful scrapbook that I cherish dearly. The day was bittersweet; I deeply appreciated all of Idan's efforts, but I was so sad that it was my last time with him before college. Although I didn't get the chance to see or talk to Idan much over the last few years, the times I did see him were a million times more special. The days I received a snapchat, text or phone call from him were the best days. Just two weeks ago, we had a Zoom call with one of our other friends. We ended our conversation by talking about how constant how relationship has been over the last seven years. We could go weeks without talking and still feel like no time has passed; we never regressed. For me, this is a sign of the deepest form of friendship and one that is very hard to come by. I am attaching a picture of Idan and I from the summer before our freshman year of college. We had gone to the Kensico Dam to play soccer. Idan and I both agreed that we look weird in this picture. Yet, we both loved it for some reason. I think the reason that I love this picture is that represents the pure joy and happiness I had whenever I was around Idan. It was truly a joy that I have yet to experience with anyone else. I am grateful to have known Idan for seven short years. Not only will he always be one of my best and most valued friends, but one of my favorite people in the world. I love him ever so deeply and will make sure that his memory lives on forever.

Allie Lambert Idan was a friend and mentor to me in my most formative year of high school. He was one of the first to truly inspire me to pursue leadership roles and to invest in people. Being his co-drumajor was honestly my favorite high school experience. It was a blessing to get to be the goofy drum major duo and also learn alongside him. These past few days I've been looking/reading over old text exchanges, photos, and personal journal entries, trying to make sense of any of this. Photos- There are so many photos of us high fiving and saluting. Almost all of which I remember looking over with him, laughing and critiquing each other's form. I also used to do this thing I called "hug cam" on band trips, where I would just take pictures of all the times everyone would hug each other (because band kids). It's not surprising that it was mostly full of just Idan hugging everyone in the band, sometimes two at a time. Texts- Our conversations were almost entirely me just freaking out and asking for advice, to which he always provided the most stellar and sincere words. Even after he graduated he would listen to my band rants and try to help. Journal entries - I remember that my jr year I wanted to make an effort to record happy memories in my journal, because I desperately needed a ray of hope and positivity at that time. A majority of what I wrote that year (graditude-wise) were little ways Idan would encourage, validate, or spend time me. Several entries end with a silver lining of "...but Idan gave me high five today in the hall" or "..." I got to give Idan a hug". My favorite thing was saluting each other, though. At the end of each band event, whether we marched or not, we would salute before going home. It's terribly nerdy, I know, but it was the most empowering thing in the world. That's what Idan did, he empowered people. I'm grateful for every teary eyed salute logged in my journal, I'll never not smile reading over our encounters. These and other memories I hold very close to my heart. I'm blessed to have had such a genuine, intentional, goofy, deeply caring friend like him to be continually grateful for.

Bevlyn Greber As many others have said, your smile lights up the room. You were the cutest child always helping and full of zest. I'm sad we were not able to spend more special moments together but I am so grateful for those we had. We will miss you.

Molly Singer Idani, It is so weird to write in this text box. How do I describe to your family and friends what they already know. You were truly special. You were kind, caring, funny and gave the best advice (even for a "southerner"). I was so lucky to be your friend. When we first met in freshman year, one of our first conversations was a 10-minute lecture series on "Where have the Greenstein's lived". You were a great teacher, cause I remember all of it haha. But seriously, you were a great teacher. Idan, people all over campus were inspired by you. Whether they were in pep band, classes, or waiting for you to sneak em' a treat from the kitchen at Chabad. I want to be able to share memories, but it is hard to think of them when you know no more memories will be made. Idan, even-though you won't be there to harmonize with me (dare I say to an impressive degree), I will continue to sing Carole King through the hallway's of Chabad. The pranks, the giggles, the stair catch-ups, the wine nights with Ellie, and the goofy kiddushes (all you Gilad <3) will continue but just as memories. Baruch Dayan Haemet. May your neshama have an aliyah.

Alex Kohl Just wanted to share some photos from our band days. The first photo is from drum major academy in the summer of 2015. I remember Idan instantly made a group of friends, which I found remarkable because my first year I had come out of the week having spoken to a total of maybe two people. Second photo is a classic from our time as drum majors together. The third is probably from the bus ride to a game, although I don't know when.. there were many. The next three are lovely memories from the band trip to Montreal in spring of 2016. (I also have a video of Idan "hatching" out of this egg thing...) Then a picture from the last day of band, and Idan officially transitioning from baby drum major to Senior drum major / band dad. And then our final salute together at my graduation in 2016. Idan, you will be so so missed. (update apparently they do not post in order)

Romy Greenstein Last week, my beautiful cousin Idany passed away. I always remember him as my baby cousin with the biggest smile and kindest heart. Playing cops and robbers, trashing your room to build pillow forts and finally being so excited to come visit you in Seattle and New York. Idan was a drummer and had a raw love for music. This is what ties us together now. Uncle Steven you told me that Idan was the first person to teach you how to truly listen to music, to hear each drum beat, to pay attention to every element that makes up a song. This week, I wanted to go through my record collection, listen and absorb my music with an open heart, to be present just like Idan would be. This brings me closer to him. Idany, you’re making me a better person. I’m listening carefully now, connected to you through music and all our cherished memories. Love you forever. Forever inspired by you. For Steven, Valerie, Samantha, Melissa and Gilad.

mel telesmanic idan, the things i would do to see you once more. it’s still difficult for me to accept the reality of what’s happen, even a year later. i still remember the night we officially met at a songwriters showcase where polanco had gushed about your talent to me! from there, we had a wonderful music conversation, a hug, and a promised jam session. today, as i walked down the music hallway of our high school, i saw this box with your name on it. i had never seen it in the hall before, so i almost feel as though it was placed there for a reason. whether it may be, i’m never going to forget the showcase where we met and became instant friends. keep on playing those hot rods, idan <3