“I had fun for sixty-three years.” Warren Pearlman, who never worked a day in his life.

I met Robin Sigadel through Hedy, no surprise there; Hedy Page is a social local legend in Long Beach, NY. Robin was with Hedy when I walked Scout and came upon them. You might recall the name Robin from this photo:

Not long ago Robin met Hedy on the boardwalk, approached her, and said, “You’re Hedy, right? You used to teach me art when I was young?” Hedy remembered her art student, and they laughed and hugged. A lot of hugging happens with Hedy.

As we walked to Hedy’s home, Robin told me how she loved my essay on Hedy and that her dad had a good life story, too; she told me a bit about him.

I soon visited Warren and Carole Pearlman at their Long Beach home. Warren has two daughters, Tami and Robin. I only met Robin who sat on the couch with her mom as I interviewed her dad.

At the table with Warren, I could see Robin’s face over his shoulder, she was smiling. And she kept smiling the entire time I was there.

I tend to notice little things and muse on what they might hold. First, Robin told me about her dad on our walk with Hedy. That, combined with this continuous smile spoke of adoring love for her dad. Actually, Dad and daughter are the proud owners—of the same smile—even the same head tilt. I suspect Tami holds the same love, smile and tilt:

Warren, 88 is a kid from Brooklyn; I’m 82, from Queens, so we recalled our city-kid days of street games: stickball, punch ball, yelling, “CAR!”when one came down our “Ebbets Field” street.

But Warren, a Brooklyn Montauk Junior High lad of 6’3″ moved into organized sports and later into New Utrecht High’s basketball, baseball, and softball teams.

I stayed with disorganized sports.

When Warren was about to graduate from New Utrecht High all the other kids knew what careers they wanted and what colleges to attend. Warren had no idea what he wanted to do nor where to go.

But his uncle, a wise man, suggested he pursue a career in teaching PE—Physical Education. Warren laughed when he told me that at that time he didn’t think you needed an education to teach PE; it looked like all fun. And he later discovered—for him it was.

Warren went to NYU’s School of Education and played basketball there too.

He said in those days, college athletes, off-season, played for hotels, one hotel against the other for guests’ enjoyment. So about 1955, he played for upstate Delano Hotel when they played Shawanga Lodge.

The day of the game, his coach, as usual said, “You take the big guy.” Warren saw the big guy from the University of Kansas walk onto the court. It was a 7′ 1″ student named Chamberlain, AKA, Wilt the Stilt Chamberlain. He was almost a foot taller than Warren.

Wilt, a skyscraper next to Warren said, “I’ll go easy on you,” Warren remembered. “So I’m guarding him,” Warren said, “and you know you’re allowed to put your hands on him, and his back felt like steel.” Warren said Delano Hotel lost so badly that he didn’t want to tell me the score. “Later,” Warren said about Wilt, “we were getting dressed, and he took his pants and held them up by the waist—and his pants were taller than me!” Warren, once more, gave me that Pearlman grin.

After college Warren married then went into the Army. Even in the Army, Warren’s abilities were so obvious that although his Military Specialty was cryptography, the Army had him playing sports. While most GI’s in 1958 went to Korea or Germany, Warren stayed stateside for his entire two-year enlistment.

Warren launched his PE career.

Teaching any subject is an immense opportunity to shape young minds and bodies, the two support each other. So much trust is placed in teachers and when they fulfill that trust they improve humankind, one body, one mind, at a time. There is a lot of room for improvement in humankind, so effective teaching is integral.

Warren taught at Massapequa, NY’s Fairfield elementary school for 38 years, then another 23 years subbing PE, mostly in Massapequa’s Lockhart elementary school.

Warren has vivid memories of his career. He said he was known as the Pied Piper because so many kids would follow him in the hallway and say to each other, “Mr. Pearlman is here,” and the word got around that “Coach P was in the building.”

He said the kids loved having him teach PE because he gave them games other teachers didn’t, new games, like Jai Alai or Scatterball, which he invented. Scatterball was like dodgeball but more fun. It was adopted by other schools, too.

Warren recalled a blind sixth grader, Steven Gomez, who just “strolled around.”

So he had Steven put on a baseball glove and told him to close his hand over the glove when he felt the ball go in. When Steven caught the ball he told Warren it was his first catch ever. Steven even hit Warren’s pitched balls, long before today’s ball which rings when tossed to assist blind batters.

Warren was all in.

Warren’s life was jam-packed with sports. While teaching PE, he taught tennis privately, coached and reffed baseball, softball, basketball. He was Fairfield’s Commissioner of Night Baseball League. He continued to have special moments. One day he said, again with his grin, “ I partnered in reffing with Harry Gallatin of the NY Knicks.” Warren said in those days, “I’d get home at 10:00 pm.”

Carol, his wife of 66 years, is also a former teacher, among other careers. She taught first grade in Massapequa and when Warren was about to be discharged from the Army she helped him get his job there. Always supportive of Warren, she said with a smile, “The key to a happy marriage? He’s never home.”

In his retirement subbing, Warren was introduced to a lady teacher who said, “You taught my brother, Steven, Steven Gomez!” It had been twenty-five years since Warren taught young Steven to make his first catch, and now—he meets his sister. He couldn’t believe it.

Warren called Steven, now in his thirties and living in Chicago. Warren said, “When I called him, he almost went through the phone; he was so happy.”

I asked Warren if he had considered other tentative career options when he chose sports. He said, “No, just sports.”

After Warren retired, Fairfield Elementary wanted to name the gym after him. But, he said, you have to be dead to have it named after you, and he couldn’t accommodate them. So they named the school’s trophy case after Warren Pearlman.

Warren still is involved with sports. He’s been hosting a gathering of sports fans to chat, one Tuesday a month, about basketball and baseball at the Long Beach library. Since Covid started, the chats are now via Zoom. Contact the Long Beach, NY library for details, Or go to Zoom and enter ID 84072666157 passcode 569457. Warren said one guy can talk about games from the 1800s

Our career paths are not writ so clearly for many of us. Often better-paying careers compete with options one loves. Choosing the former sometimes results in unhappiness. I think when people choose lucrative over love, they might inflict pain, rather than love, upon us.

Have you ever met a doctor you can easily see —doesn’t like his career, or maybe even people? Me too. Perhaps he should have stuck with that violin or engineering.

After retirement, a Lockhart teacher, Emily B, sent a letter to Warren saying how much her students miss him. She thought they could write to him since they were also learning letter writing; she included seventeen letters. I noticed the same theme of “happiness through creativity” that touched formative minds. Minds that likely will pass it on. All through the presence of Mr. Pearlman.
Some examples:

It’s been said, “If you love what you do you never work a day in your life.

If you can choose a career that satisfies you, that’s great. If it brings you a life of fun, you’re indeed fortunate. But if your career brings you moments of joy, you’ve brought love into your life—and into this troubled world. Humankind thanks you for that.

One day Steven Gomez came to New York for a week. While here, he visited the condo building where Warren Pearlman lives. They sat by the pool, talking for hours. But Warren told me how he clearly remembers the moment Steven exited the car in front of the building that day. Warren said; we hugged, and Steven said, “You’re my hero.” And Warren said, “No, you’re my hero.”

The world is a nicer place when you do what you love and love what you do, ya think?

Be well,
Leebythesea