I've known Andy since the second grade.  We lived on adjacent blocks in Manhattan Beach in Brooklyn (not Sheepshead Bay as noted in the obituary).  Manhattan Beach was a hybrid neighborhood - seemingly a suburban environment but with the overlay of being in Brooklyn and having the cache of the city and the serenity of the suburbs.  Both of our blocks were "ocean blocks," and getting to and from eachother's houses was a 5 minute walk (or three minute run). In those early years and even through high school years at Lincoln HS, our lives revolved around sports and friends. On any given day, when not in school, we would play basketball at Manhattan Beach Park or in Andy's driveway, shooting hoops on his garage. Touch football in the street - whiffleball - punchball - occasionally tackle football in the sand at one of the nearby beaches.  We had a small but very close circle of friends - all of whom lived in close proximity and any of that group would acknowledge that Andy was the easiest to like - the tacitly designated link that united us all.  In spite of Andy's many talents and gifts, I can't imagine anyone feeling jealousy or resentment towards him (as kids often do) - he was pure in his warmth and humanity and never boastful and certainly never a bully. 

We were all Brooklyn Dodger fans and devastated when Da Bums left Brooklyn in 1958.  As a result of that betrayal some of us began rooting for other National League teams.  Andy picked the Milwaukee Braves because he admired Hank Aaron and I picked the Pittsburgh Pirates because of Roberto Clemente. Andy was almost immediately rewarded (he had the golden touch) with two World Series wins against the hated Yankees.  A couple of years later, I was rewarded when the Pirates beat the Yanks in dramatic fashion.  We were relieved (and doomed) when the Mets came into existence in 1962 and we re-joined the ranks of rooting for a NY National League team.  We went to a double-header at The Polo Grounds, where the Mets started their journey. It was during a Spring break from school and simultaneously during Passover.  Andy brought Matzah sandwiches prepared by Sylvia (his mom). The Mets beat the Braves twice that day. 

Anyone who ever knew Andy was graced with his warmth, his kindness, his optimism and his talent. We are clearly at a loss knowing he has died and with a tremendous reward for having ever known him. I will miss you, brother.