“In all tales the grandfather is always pictured sitting by the fireplace surrounded by his grandchildren and, as flames flicker and come to life, he tells them the story of his life.”

So begins Dan David’s “My Life, My Dreams,” a 246 page memoir available on http://www.dedem.it/DanDavid_Biography/  David, 81, does not have grandchildren yet, nor does his home boast a fireplace, but his recollections are there for future generations to marvel at.  From the moment of his birth in 1929 in Bucharest, Romania, David meticulously chronicles his life, his loves, his tragedies and his triumphs.  His idyllic childhood is evoked, complete with maids and summer vacations on the Black Sea. The pictures and history of his family from his great- grandparents until today encapsulate the story of European Jews: Torah scholars, businessmen, secret family recipes for the world’s best chocolate cookies and property that was later nationalized by the Romania communist regime.  It’s all in the book: finding the afikoman and illicit affairs with au pairs, emphasis on education, hard work and success, and business acumen that kicked in early.  At age seven, David enlisted Petrica, his father’s chauffeur, to buy cigarettes on business trips in the country; little Dan sold them later in the city at a profit which he split with his daddy’s driver.

World War Two erupted and put an end to Jewish peace.  David’s father was dismissed from the army where he had served with honor, and racist laws kept Jews unemployed and out of schools. The government appropriated the David home, and the family was forced into more and more modest housing.  Money was scarce; the thirteen year old David helped supplement finances by pretending to be older and teaching mathematics to pupils who were years ahead of him at school.

After World War Two David joined Hanoar Hazioni, a Zionist youth group - both for the ideology and the girls. One of them, the beautiful Dorothea, caught his eye; at seventeen she was a year older than David.  “Dan is a very capable youngster, with a vast cultural knowledge, which sometimes gives me a sensation of inferiority,” she confided to her diary, under the heading “I have a boyfriend!” 

In the summer of 1950 ‘boyfriend’ became husband, and the couple prepared for their aliyah to Israel.  Dorothea’s family received their exit permits from Romania; David hoped to follow shortly.  Then the Iron Curtain slammed shut and he was stuck in Eastern Europe, with his young wife in Haifa.  With no hope that she would ever see her husband again, Dorothea wrote a letter, asking for a divorce.  The brokenhearted David agreed, and a long-distance get was arranged.

David chronicles the early fifties with their show trials and trumped up charges against Jews, his decision to become a photographer, his interrogation in jail about his Zionist activities, his being under constant surveillance by the Securitate. Yet David never wavered in his love for Israel or his commitment to the cause.  He was fired from his newspaper, rehired by another; fell in love with a fellow journalist named Mia whom he later married, and moved to Israel together with his new wife and his mother.

It was then that Dan David embarked on a venture that would change his life: harnessing his studies and work experience in industrial photography he determined to import and adapt a new instant photography technology: photobooths.  It is a rare person who has not popped into a booth for a passport photo or for four fun-photos with friends, pulling weird faces as the light warms up and captures your image with a flash.  And each image puts a percentage of the profit into David’s pocket.  In those early days pictures took seven minutes to be processed.  David visited London, shaved in the toilets at Victoria Station to save money on a hotel, and negotiated his first contract to import the booths into Israel.  The first was set up in Tel Aviv with four black and white photos going for 1.50 lira; crowds lined up for this new attraction.

More booths followed soon, and David branched out with franchises in Italy.  With Mia by his side David set up home in Rome, formed Dedem Automatica, and their venture began to fly.  The Rome booth saw 500 people a day queuing up for their four snapshots; David trudged home at the end of each day happily weighed down with hundreds of 100 lira coins.  After conquering Italy, Dedem spread through Spain to Japan, California and beyond.  Dan and Mia David traveled the world, working and playing, until Mia’s tragic death at a young age.  Dan’s third wife of thirty years is Israeli former actress Gabriela Fleischman Ohad; their journalist son Ariel has recently made aliyah.

Dan David is a mega-successful businessman whose honors include “Commander of the Italian Republic in the Order of Merit,” “Commander of the French Republic in the Order of Arts and Letters,” and from the Israeli government “Itur Lochamei Hamedina.” Still, he views his fortune philosophically.   “Money is a measure of success like Celsius degrees for temperature; it is not a purpose in itself,” he says. “Success can be a source of satisfaction but money should be put to work for good causes after personal needs have been met.”

So David has put his money to work for good causes close to his heart.  In 2000 the Dan David Foundation was set up with a $100 million endowment.  Each year the Foundation, together with the Tel Aviv University, awards three $1 million prizes for people who have made outstanding contributions in the fields of science, technology, culture or social welfare.  David, who holds the title of Doctor Philosophiae Honoris Causa from TAU and is a member of the Board of Governors, stipulated that laureates donate ten percent of their prize money to outstanding doctoral students and researchers in their own field from Israel and around the world; this year’s laureates included Giorgio Napolitano, the President of Italy, Prof. Leonard Kleinrock who developed the fundamental building block for the internet, and Dr. Gordon Moore who cofounded Intel.   Margaret Atwood and Amitav Ghosh shared the prize for Literature; one of the most interesting things about their acceptance speech was their short account of the pressure that they had faced to spurn the prize and boycott the ceremony in Tel Aviv.  And that was before the Flotilla.  Past laureates include Al Gore, Peter Brook, Tom Stoppard, Yo-Yo Ma, Tony Blair and Amos Oz.     

The reason why he chose to create the Prize, says David, is “to devote some of my fortune to rewarding and furthering the work of the eminent figures who have increased our knowledge of our past, improved our present and helped us forge a better future.”  But there is more. A building at TAU bears his name.  His myriad philanthropic projects range from archaeology, film, medicine, scholarships, to a non-profit business incubator, and the 81 year old (who fought and won a battle against prostate cancer) still puts in a ten hour working day, somehow also finding time for cycling, reading and studying – especially history.  Chess is a beloved pastime and David recently held out against Gary Kasparov for more than three hours during a Dan David Prize event; although, to be completely fair, it seems right to mention that Kasparov was competing against another twenty-nine players simultaneously.  As President of Fomat Ltd., Dedem Automatica Srl, and Photo-Me International Plc, as well as a member of the boards of other Israeli and foreign companies, you would expect him to rest on a Friday morning by the sea, on holiday in Tel Aviv.  But you would be wrong.  Even before his interview for ESRA Magazine ended, a troop of young internet entrepreneurs made themselves comfortable in the lobby, opening lap-tops and swishing through PowerPoint presentations.  By the time we got to the door David was immersed in the world of hi-tech, deep in conversation with the twenty-something hopefuls. They were speaking Hebrew, of course; did I neglect to mention that David is fluent in French, Italian, English, Romanian, Spanish, Hebrew and German?

Next year the Dan David Prize turns ten. David intends to watch his projects grow, but he has arranged for what happens to him in the afterlife too.  His tomb will be cylindrical and made of stainless steel; David has decided to go in for cryonics and freeze his body in liquid nitrogen at minus 160 degrees celsius in the hope that he can be revived in another century or so, to see what that is like.   Ad 120, Dan David – to you, your family and your prize.  Your grandchildren, when they arrive and finally get to hear you tell your story by a fireplace or on the sandy beaches of Tel Aviv, will have a lot to be proud of.