The call he answered

Dear Dolph, I don't believe our paths have crossed. I'm a long-serving rabbi on Long Island with a long history with URJ Camps/Kutz/NFTY. Your father was an extremely important mentor to me, and to my son David too, over many decades. I originally Facebook messaged this to your sister, and then saw your post on the CCAR page suggesting we post memories here. I wanted to share two stories that you might not know about your father’s exceptional leadership. They were pivotal for me. The first is from summer/1987. I was rabbinical intern at Temple Sinai of Roslyn, New York where I now serve as the senior rabbi, and that year I was leading a NFTY Israel trip—half from Roslyn and half from the rest of the country. Our Thursday night flight to Israel had about 200 kids and 4 staff—we were meeting the rest of the staff in Israel. I believe that summer was the largest NFTY/Israel contingent ever. Anyway, Paul Yedwab, just hired as the assistant rabbi at Temple Israel in West Bloomfield, MI, and I were the lead staff on the plane. Paul was 27 and I was 25. Through a series of mishaps, we were forced to land in London during Wimbledon weekend and were required to stay in London for two days before we could depart for Israel. As you can imagine, Paul and I weren’t sure what we would do—200 kids and us in London. Then I remembered that your father gave me a card with his phone number at Kutz on it. He told me that if I ever needed him, just to call. When we landed in London, I convinced (not easily) the flight attendant to let me off the plane before the kids deplaned, so I could call your father. It was probably 3am in Warwick. I called the number, and your father answered on the first ring. “Is this Paul or Michael,” he said. “It’s Michael,” I responded. “Okay, Michael, just breathe. Everything is going to be fine.” During the flight your father had arranged for us to be met by a large contingent of staff from the Reform Movement in Great Britain. He had hotels for us, and 2 days of touring London. He turned a terror-inducing mishap into an adventure. That was your dad. The second was when I was asked to help create what turned into the ill-fated Campaign for Youth Engagement for the URJ. I called your father and asked him to help mentor one of the new professionals we had engaged. And I asked, almost incidentally, what he was working on. In rapid fire, your father told me what was happening with zoning, sewage, construction, enrollment, hiring, and more, at each of the URJ camps, with great detail. That, too, was your father. An exceptional mentor, master engineer and planner and visionary. We would occasionally enjoy a meal together in the Berks when I was there. And when my son needed some advice, your father was there to help him as well. He was a giant-a gentle, humble giant. He gently guided me when I needed guidance, and he modeled a love for Jewish teens that became a passion of my rabbinate. And I know I was on the periphery, and yet, he was a powerful personal influence for me, always available, always warm, sweet and wise. Anyways, I join the enormous chorus of Reform Jews who owe an immeasurable debt to your father. Please accept my deepest condolences for you and your family. I will miss him.