Chess master Erez Klein (January 29, 1976-April 24, 2013) was buried this morning at Mount Zion Cemetery in Queens, New York. I had the honor of saying a few words at the gravesite:

How do we make sense of a life cut tragically short? Erez Klein was a mere eight years old when we first met at the Manhattan Chess Club back in 1984. It was obvious he had remarkable talent. Erez was also a good person and he trusted people. His appealing innocence reminded me of Bobby Fischer. Once, when he was nine, we were analyzing together. Erez suggested a premature move. I said something about everything having a time and place, but was unable to explain the essence of Ecclesiastes.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.”