This is not an obituary as defined in the dictionary, but rather a collection of memories I have of Claire, with whom I was privileged to cross paths at four stages of her life

Scene 1: Form 2

Claire was one of only four students in our history class whose names were known to Mr Minogue.  She sat behind me in one subject, which made me privy to her role as a ringleader in the Dare or Truth games, and made it possible for her to kick me.  We used to trade friendly insults.  At one point I felt I had gone too far, in speaking disparagingly to her of another boy, and imposed on myself a penance of not speaking to her for a month.  She must have thought it quite silly.

Scene 2: Form 6

The bus routes were rearranged, and we found ourselves on the same bus, I think it was 7.  I vaguely remember having many conversations with Claire as we sat together for a year on the back seat.  Most of them were very pleasant, but I remember some troubling ones when she talked of her disappointment with some of our mutual friends over issues that I didn't really understand.  She seemed to set very high standards for herself and demanded them of others, but I wasn't really sure.  What I do remember is liking her so much that it didn't bother me at all when she beat me in the Baron Snyder public speaking competition, with a thoughtful and charmingly presented piece on how students educate their teachers.

Scene 3: A year after matriculation

I had moved to Israel, dropped out of yeshiva, and was studying at the Hebrew Univeristy, and Claire came for a visit at Chanuka.  I don't remember if it was in any framework, but we spent time together around Jerusalem, and at the university, where I hosted her for a few meals.  She must have noticed my scarcity of cutlery, so she bought me 2 sets, which I still use.  It was a turbulent time for both of us, with many upheavals in our lives and changing relationships with our friends, and we cheered each other up for a while, co-conspirators making fun of the world.

Scene 4: A year or two later

The letters stopped, and I heard from others that Claire had had a nervous breakdown in Australia.  When she returned to Israel, it was as an immigrant, and a different person.  She had gained a lot of weight, and had changed from an anti-smoker to a smoker, as was her kibbutznik boyfriend Eyal Kalsky.  Not all of the Claire I knew was there, but enough that we still wanted to be friends, and I didn't probe too much for fear of doing damage.  I had the honour of playing the accordion at their kibbutz wedding, and afterwards we saw each other sometimes as they lived near the university.  Eyal bought my bicycle when I left Israel temporarily for America, and soon after that we lost contact, until I received the terrible news that Claire had been killed in a traffic accident in Australia.

She is missed and remembered fondly