Standing at the edge of the water in Kissena Park, the children of Avrumie Itzkowitz gathered in the place where their father’s life was stolen on a quiet Monday afternoon, carrying a burden no family should ever have to bear. The 75-year-old longtime Queens resident, respected mashgiach, Hatzalah volunteer, husband, father, grandfather, and former bakery owner was known throughout the community as a man whose quiet acts of kindness touched countless lives. It has been over five weeks since May 18, yet the questions that have haunted the family since that afternoon remain unanswered. Who killed Avrumie Itzkowitz? Why was he targeted? More than a month later, why do those questions still have no answers?
The family recently stood before the cameras not to chase headlines, but to plead for the truth. Crime Stoppers increased its reward to $10,000, and the Itzkowitz family matched it, bringing the total reward to $20,000. They hope the increased reward encourages anyone with information to come forward.
Yet the family’s pain extends far beyond the investigation. Only weeks before they lost their father in a senseless act of violence, they buried their mother after her agonizing battle with cancer. After 53 years of marriage, they were supposed to be navigating that loss together. Instead, the children are left to navigate a world without either of them.
“It’s shocking,” Avrumie's son, Tzvi Yonie, exclaimed. “It’s devastating. And it’s still very fresh on our minds.” As for the lack of progress, he added, “We really don’t have any more information now than we did the day of.” Tzvi Yonie was careful to note that the family has remained in regular contact with the NYPD and the Queens District Attorney’s Office and appreciates their continued efforts, even as they continue waiting for answers. Avrumie's daughter, Leah Livshitz, spoke with equal conviction: “My daddy was visibly Jewish. His family deserves answers. The Jewish community deserves answers.” Their words reflected not anger, but the exhaustion of children searching for answers after losing both parents in less than three weeks.
As plans for the press conference came together, Assemblymember Nily Rozic reached out to me personally, urging that the community be encouraged to attend. Recognizing the importance of the family’s appeal, the Queens Jewish Link amplified the announcement across its print, digital, and social media platforms. By the time the family stood before the cameras, hundreds of people had gathered in the park, a powerful display of communal solidarity.
Avrumie was the kind of person who defined the soul of our community. He was a mashgiach, and he devoted countless hours to volunteer emergency response through Hatzalah, answering calls at every hour of the day and night and helping neighbors on some of the most difficult days of their lives. Avrumie understood that responsibility, quietly giving of himself without ever seeking recognition.
Long before Main Street became the thriving Orthodox commercial corridor it is today, the Itzkowitz family helped build this neighborhood from the ground up. Their family bakery, G&I—later known to many as Mendy’s Bakery—became a cornerstone of generations of Shabbos preparations, birthdays, and family celebrations. For many readers, the bakery was more than a place to buy challah or pastries; it was part of the rhythm of Jewish life in Kew Gardens Hills. As the neighborhood grew into one of the nation’s largest Orthodox Jewish communities, the Itzkowitz family grew alongside it, becoming part of the neighborhood’s story for generations.
Perhaps the truest measure of the man is how he spent the final morning of his life. Even while sitting shivah for his own wife, Avrumie insisted on going out to comfort two other families who were mourning. He treated the grief of others as his own obligation. Hours later, he went to work, then sought a quiet moment by the lake. “It was just a regular Monday afternoon,” Tzvi Yonie recalled. “He enjoyed going to the park on his lunch break.” It was a place where he found a few quiet moments before returning to work. That was the rhythm of his life: caring for others, embracing simple routines, and finding contentment in life’s quiet moments.
The family has expressed concern that his outward Jewish identity—his yarmulke and beard—may have made him a target. The family has asked investigators to examine every possible motive, including whether antisemitism played a role. The NYPD has not classified the homicide as a hate crime and has said the investigation remains active.
When word of his murder broke, the response was immediate. From the Bukharian Community to the Queens Jewish Link, across WhatsApp groups and neighborhood chats, the story became one of the most widely shared in Orthodox Queens. The overwhelming response reflected not only grief, but a determination that Avrumie’s murder would not fade from public attention.
The presence of elected officials from every level of government underscored that this was no longer simply one family’s tragedy, but had become a matter of concern for the entire borough. Assemblymember Nily Rozic urged anyone with information to come forward, while State Senator John Liu emphasized the importance of continued public cooperation with investigators. Council Member Sandra Ung spoke of the community’s shared responsibility, and Assemblymember David Weprin and Council Member Jim Gennaro stood in solidarity with the family.
Between 200 and 300 people were in that park on that afternoon. If you were in Kissena Park that day, or know someone who was, now is the time to come forward. What may seem like an insignificant memory—a face that seemed unfamiliar, a car parked where it didn’t belong, a brief encounter—could prove to be the key investigators have been searching for.
Please reach out to the NYPD Crime Stoppers at 1-800-577-TIPS. Somewhere, someone who was in Kissena Park that afternoon may be carrying the one detail investigators have yet to uncover. For the Itzkowitz family, that memory could be the difference between an unsolved murder and justice. Until that day comes, Avrumie’s chair remains empty—not only around his family’s table, but within the Queens Jewish community that he helped build, serve, and strengthen through a lifetime of quiet chesed. His family continues to pray that someone who was in Kissena Park that afternoon will recognize the importance of one overlooked detail and finally come forward. For them, that single memory could mean the difference between an unanswered tragedy and the justice Avrumie deserves.
By Shabsie Saphirstein
