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In Memoriam:
Herman Blumenthal, 1915- 2001
A Farewell Tribute to Rabbi Jessica Spitalnic
In Memoriam
Herman Blumenthal, 1915- 2001
There is a Jewish legend that teaches us that when the world was created, God also created
36 lamed-vavnikim, 36 righteous people, who live anonymously amongst all people, in each generation, and who do deeds of
tzedek, righteousness, quietly, with dignity. These 36, we are taught, are the true
tzadikim, the righteous ones who dwell in our midst. We never know who they are, we can never be quite sure, and even they are unaware of their own special role and status. They are known by their character, how they affect others and the world, and often only at the end of a lifetime, when we take the full measure of a person. . . . . At any given time, it is said, the very existence of the world depends upon them.
Herman Blumenthal would have been more than embarrassed by any reference to him that might suggest that he might possibly be one of these truly righteous people. He would brush aside, or smile at, any reference to him at all. He did not want the glory, or the honor, or the accolades, or the power that often accompany acts of philanthropy such as his, which were countless. He did not want the attention at all. He wanted the attention to be lavished on the many institutions of faith, and learning, and healing, and the arts upon which he bestowed his good fortune. He wanted the attention to be turned to the good deeds and important works of others he made possible. And most of all, he wanted the attention focused, like a laser beam, upon the children.
The children. . . that is what it seemed it was always about for Mr.
Blumenthal. Children, learning, well-being. All children, of all faiths, and cultures, . . .the children of humanity. All of our children.
When I reflect upon the awesome task of memorializing Herman Blumenthal, a truly remarkable man, a gutten
neshamah, a good soul, whom we will all miss so deeply, my mind flashes to many images.
I remember the first time I met Mr. Blumenthal. It was nearly nine years ago, when I arrived here in Charlotte to interview for the position of rabbi here. I must admit that I had heard of Herman Blumenthal -- I knew of his extraordinary generosity, and I was understandably nervous about meeting him. I wanted him to like me, and I wondered if I would be intimidated by this legendary figure who seemed to me to be larger than life, powerful, important. . . Imagine my surprise then, when I was introduced to him, an almost shy, reserved man, who pulled me aside from the crowd, and quietly spoke to me with a twinkle in his eye, and a crooked smile. And what did he talk to me about? He spoke with me about children. He asked me about my own, and he told me about the children of Shalom Park. He told me of his dreams of schools, of flourishing youth programs, of laughing, singing, celebrating children. And throughout the years I knew him, he never stopped dreaming these dreams and making them real.
Mr. Blumenthal -- he was always Mr. Blumenthal to me -- I would never call him anything but this, though he was known as Herman, Dad, Pops, Poppa, Grandpa, Mr. B., to so many others -- Mr. Blumenthal loved those children. I used to find him sometimes on Sunday mornings, when our religious school was in session, slowly walking through the halls of the Blumenthal education building at the Jewish Community Center, watching the activity going on. He would smile knowingly at the thriving programs his generosity made possible, and he would take pride in all of our children! On more than one occasion, he would recount for me the fact that the numbers of children kept growing and growing and growing! And his face would glow with excitement!
Mr. Blumenthal learned the lesson about the importance of children early on. One of six children himself, growing up in Savannah, Georgia, he was proud of his own family, and deeply devoted to them. His bond to his brothers I.D. and Ellis, both of blessed memory, and his sisters Henrietta and Judith, both of blessed memory, and to you Hannah, was a deeply loving bond of commitment. The large family extended beyond the immediate relatives. It was a family of cousins, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, many of whom are represented here today. Mr. Blumenthal cherished the bonds of family that crossed the years and the miles.
But the family ultimately centered around Herman and Anita Blumenthal, and the clan that settled and grew here in Charlotte. From the moment he first met her, so many years ago in California, Herman Blumenthal truly devoted himself to his Anita. He was smitten by her -- a lovely young woman of golden voice to whom he was introduced by family friends. His devotion to her, and hers to him, followed him to Alaska, back to the east coast, through his years of service in the Army, and finally here to Charlotte, where they built their home and family. Their 57 years of marriage were a blessing. The family they created is a tribute to their values and love. They were partners, they were friends, and anyone who knew them could see the look in Mr. Blumenthal's eyes as he looked at his Anita with deep and abiding respect, friendship and love.
The blessing of family and love blossomed for Herman Blumenthal through his boys. Alan, Philip and Samuel. . . . Each of his boys always knew that he was there for them, a rock of support and a teacher of life. They share many memories from those early years: afternoons on the boat on the river, water skiing, or fishing, watching Carolina basketball, going to basketball and hockey games, learning from their Dad how to play sports, taking summer trips to Savannah, driving trips, the many journeys to the mountains and the beach. He was Pop, or Dad to them, proud of their accomplishments and of the men they have each become.
He was equally proud. . . when he welcomed Lee, Amy, and Mandy into the family. He was supportive and good and kind, and enjoyed each of their presence in the family, and the families his sons and daughters-in-law built together.
Mr. Blumenthal was blessed by seven grandchildren, each of whom remember him with an abiding respect and affection. Jill and Stacy, Jason, Josh and Jacob, Andrew and Ethan, will each cherish their own memories and reflections of their Grandpa, or Poppa, things like his humming of his "unfinished symphony," or the wonderful family beach trips, playing in the ocean, or visits to his gigantic, intimidating office at Radiator Specialty. He wasn't an old-fashioned, cuddly grandfather; instead he was a wise and sagacious grandfather, who taught each of them by example how to live a life of service and generosity. His grandchildren were proud of him and his many accomplishments, and he was profoundly proud of each of them.
Mr. Blumenthal had a special bond with his older brother I.D., his partner and mentor in business and philanthropy, to whom he looked up like a father figure. Like Aaron and Moses, each of the brother's played their own role; one was the public, visionary, charismatic figure, the other the quiet, detail man behind the scenes. Herman Blumenthal was content to let others bask in the glow of public attention. He preferred to remain in the background, quietly watching and taking it all in. He had a gift -- he rarely tired, and could get up early, devote long days to work and meetings and community receptions, never expending a lot of energy, but rather, in his low-key and gentle manner, accomplishing so much.
And then he would go home, listen to the news he loved so much, and take a nap after dinner in his chair. He could fall asleep anywhere: in that chair, at the symphony, at meetings, at Temple, yet remarkably, he would awaken and still know exactly what was going on!
Mr. Blumenthal had other gifts as well: he was a gentleman, an appropriate and kind man, to all he met. Lee tells a story of his chivalry many years ago when she and Alan were dating, and she dropped a glove in the snow. Unbeknownst to her, Mr. Blumenthal had the glove dry-cleaned and pressed and mailed to her at school. Others knew of this same gentlemanly demeanor: his employees, his friends, strangers, nurses at the Carriage Club.
Herman Blumenthal loved his work, and he flourished at Radiator Specialty, where he was beloved and respected by many, and where so many became his loyal and beloved companions and friends. He loved to show off the many products he produced. He was proud that his business success allowed him to live a life of exemplary philanthropy. It was this volunteer work that set him apart more than anything. His generosity extended through the Blumenthal Foundation to the Blumenthal Home, to Temple Beth El and Temple Israel, to the Jewish Community Center, the Jewish Day School, The Blumenthal Performing Arts Center, the Blumenthal Cancer Center, numerous colleges and universities, educational programs, charities and the like.
Herman Blumenthal was deeply devoted to his faith, and was a model synagogue and community member. He was always here -- he loved meetings more than anyone I know, and he would attend every program, class, service and meeting, always supportive, always interested, never complaining. He would show up at the oddest times, for programs that had nothing to do with him, and sit in the back of the room, taking it all in. He loved what he saw, and even when he didn't, he rarely showed anything but total support and enthusiasm for what was going on. Unless, of course, it was too cold in the room. Then, Mr. Blumenthal would quietly don a
kippah, a head covering, for his visit to the Temple. He never really complained openly -- he just let me know that if he had his head covered, it meant that our sanctuary was too cold!!
Temple Beth El, like the rest of the community and region, is deeply indebted to Herman and Anita Blumenthal for their generosity in underwriting the Blumenthal Sanctuary, and for establishing the Blumenthal Endowment that insures our congregation's future. He was respectful of others, a wonderful listener, and a strong supporter of the congregation and the community, always proud to be a Jew. He also encouraged dialogue between people of all faiths, and was an advocate of interfaith dialogue and discussion.
He loved the mountains, and found special rejuvenation of body and spirit at
Wildacres. He loved to walk in the mountains, accompanied by his dog Skipper, or one of his family or friends, and he loved to tell the wonderful story of the founding of the Wildacres retreat. He was proud of
Wildacres' devotion to fighting bigotry and prejudice, and to creating harmony in our world.
He truly believed that the world could be a better place, and he did what he could, with the resources he had at his disposal, to further this cause. He worked tirelessly for the causes in which he believed, and then, when he could work no more, he prepared to pass the responsibility to others. He resisted admitting that he had to slow down, that illness was robbing him of his vitality, but finally, he was able to step aside, and to accept the inevitable. His illness and decline was sad, particularly for those who loved and respected him most, yet even in his final months, he maintained his dignity and knew of the love and support of his family.
Rachel Naomi Remen, in My Grandfather's Blessings, quotes one of her teachers who said, "We die, not because we are ill, but because we are complete. Illness may be the occasion of our death, but it is not the cause."
Herman Blumenthal was complete. His life was full, and he accomplished so much. Finally, ultimately, after serving for so long, he has bestowed his blessings upon all of us, who must now carry on his work. We have known a
tzaddik, a truly righteous man. May we, too, strive to live lives of righteousness. We have seen a man who is a master of a good name. May we always mention that name for blessing, and may we pray that the soul of Herman Blumenthal will rest in eternal peace.
A Farewell Tribute to Rabbi Jessica Spitalnic
Friday, December 14, 7:00 p.m.
All of us at Temple Beth El join in expressing our gratitude to Rabbi Jessica Spitalnic for her tremendous contribution during the past two and a half years as rabbi of Temple Beth El. We extend our warmest and most sincere best wishes to Rabbi Jessica, Scott and Noah as they begin their journey to Boca Raton, Florida for the next chapter of their lives. We will truly miss Rabbi Jessica, Scott and Noah!
Please join us as we share in a farewell Shabbat service and Oneg Shabbat in their honor on Friday, December 14 at 8:00 p.m. This will be an opportunity for the entire congregation to express our gratitude and fond regards.
During her time here at Temple Beth El, Rabbi Spitalnic has left a lasting imprint on so many facets of our congregation and community. Her work with the youth and the seniors of the Temple family, her teaching in our religious school and adult education classes, her pulpit presence and her participation in the many life cycle experiences of our congregation have touched all of us. In addition, Rabbi Jessica has left a profound mark on the greater Charlotte Jewish and general community through her efforts in such areas as the struggle to prevent Gun Violence, the fight against Domestic Violence, and numerous other causes. We are truly grateful for her leadership and rabbinic presence.
James M. Bennett
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