A Longport condo celebrates family

There is happy confusion and slight chaos in a condominium high above Longport beach. Inside a one-bedroom unit, four generations have gathered, as they often do in summer, to celebrate the simple joys of family.

For Judge Judith Wizmur and her husband, attorney Leonard Wizmur, weekends at the Shore are a long-standing family tradition - they purchased the condominium 24 years ago, determined to make it a gathering place for their immediate and extended family.

On this sunny, warm afternoon, their only guest is the youngest family member, tiny Maya, the Wizmurs' first and, so far, only grandchild, a born scene-stealer at 16 months. The living room has become "nursery central," with Maya's toys and equipment very much in evidence.

In this sleek beige world, with fine art, carpeting the color of sand, and simple but tasteful seashore palette and design, what is most noticeable is how even a small space can somehow expand to host 10 people (although not necessarily overnight) ranging in age from 91 to under 2 years old.

"Back in Mount Laurel, we have more space, but this still probably wouldn't happen," says Judith Wizmur, the Chief U.S. Bankruptcy Judge for the District of New Jersey. "But at the Shore, it's actually a great pleasure and joy to be close together like this, and we somehow make it work."

The Wizmur condominium is in a mid-rise building that went from rental to condominium in 1987. Back then, the Wizmurs had two young children. Dina is now 30, and Matt, 26.

The space, which includes a surprisingly large kitchen, a bedroom with ample closet space and a full bath, plus terrace, has been updated over the years, but remains a comfortable retreat from everyday life. (When the extended family does spend the weekend, it makes do with futons, blankets, and a sofa bed.)

"The minute we get in the car and drive down here, we feel the tension lift," says Judith Wizmur. "By the time we get inside, we've already decompressed."

Light colors predominate, and furniture is contemporary. Shelves hold family photos, and a living-room console in pale wood does double duty, like most seashore pieces - it's aesthetic and functional.

The master bedroom, which recently underwent a redesign, now has an art deco look and feel with curved contours in a handsome brown lacquered dresser and free-form mirror, and bed linens in chocolates, beiges and grays. Against one wall is a new addition, and one of the condo's most important pieces: a modern walnut crib for Maya that made its debut this summer.

But the more things change, the more they stay the same.

"Coming here is like returning to my childhood," says Dina, now married and a lawyer in Manhattan. Her husband, Teddy Gleser, a partner in a New York hedge fund, fits in perfectly because he's an avid surfer who loves the beach and ocean.

Matt Wizmur, now a student at Rutgers-Camden Law School, delights in the Longport condominium because it's a refuge from the rigors of the academic year, and also a place where he and his significant other, Rochelle Manelis, a school speech therapist, can enjoy her family in nearby Margate.

But perhaps most delighted of all to have a weekend summer retreat are three of life's true veterans. For Judith Wizmur's parents, Terry and Nathan Herskovits, and Len's mother, Maria Kaslow, this lovely condominium overlooking the bay is light-years removed from their pasts. All three are Holocaust survivors, each of whom lost both parents and other family members in the Nazi concentration camps.

Looking around at the small but charming space, with fine art on the walls and furniture the equivalent of comfort food - deep, cushiony, and welcoming - Terry Herskovits, 85, who was hidden in an attic in Budapest for many months before being sent to a ghetto in that city, is clearly reveling.

Her earlier nightmares continued when she barely escaped death in transport to Auschwitz, then was given safe passage through the efforts of Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg. But today, it's family - nearby, safe, and together - that makes her face light up. "This is wonderful, wonderful, a gift," she says.

On a terrace just beyond the living room, her husband, 91-year-old Nathan, luxuriates. Taken to a work camp during the war, he was one of only 50 people who survived out of thousands.

And nearby, Len's mother, Maria Kaslow, 86, quietly takes in the family scene. Her own war story includes the loss of her parents and only sister, her rescue by a Ukrainian soldier, and her escape to Budapest, where she was reunited with her teenage love, Len Wizmur's late father, who, with his mother, worked underground with Wallenberg to help save Jews in Budapest.

Kaslow had a thriving art gallery in North Jersey, and her passion ignited the next generation. Art is a prevailing interest for the Wizmurs. Their eclectic collection in Longport includes a piece Judge Wizmur especially loves called In the Beginning, by Philadelphia artist Alan Goldman, because it came into her life just before her first grandchild did. Its brilliant reds and golds seemed a mystical preview of Maya's golden-red hair.

There are more serene pieces as well, including one of a Greek Island scene, and several sketches done by Len Wizmur himself. While his Mount Laurel bankruptcy and business law practice keeps him busy, he is a talented artist.

He also is a man who, like his wife, celebrates family, especially the sweep of generations.

"We are so blessed to have this time in our lives, this place, and this family with whom to share it," says Judy Wizmur.

"Our family history is complex, and there's been sadness," says her husband. "But here we are, four generations together, and we know how fortunate we are."

Almost on cue, granddaughter Maya claps her hands in delight.

Even she seems to sense that "down the Shore" with loved ones on a summer day is about as good as it gets.