“303-388-1217.”
That sparkle in the eye. That deadpan, which his inner smile sailed through as he was reciting the long forgotten phone number of the person he was summoning so that he, or she, not be forgotten.
The setting:
Announcements in the synagogue. Which Jack Greenwald made as president because he was the president of more organizations than anyone else in Denver Jewish history.
Announcements as an art form.
In Jack Greenwald’s hands, the announcements included the otherwise forgotten or unknown uncle, grandparent or landlord of a celebrant, or even just an attendee on Shabbos in the synagogue, whom Greenwald revivified for all present, beginning with the person’s . . .
Phone number.
It was all part of Jack Greenwald’s joie de vivre and inimitable style, accentuated by his fine articulation, honed as the lawyer he was.
The phone number. It was the endearing lead-in to the kindness he provided at a family simcha as he relished recalling the earlier generation for the next generation, or two, or three, down.
To watch Jack Greenwald handle a meeting was to witness an art form of its own. He had a way of allowing the most widely divergent views to be aired without the slightest recrimination peeking through. Any perspective was legitimate, every perspective was heard; and yet, by the time he drew the meeting to a close, there was harmony, a way forward, a decision made, a satisfaction with the course of events. Jack Greenwald loved calling himself “Mr. President.” As his late wife Barbara observed, “If he wants to be president, let him!”
Colorado Zionist Foundation.
Beth Joseph Synagogue.
Committee for the Enhancement of Jewish Life.
Rocky Mountain Hebrew Academy (“RMHA,” now part of Denver Jewish Day School).
Hillel Academy.
Israel Bonds.
East Denver Orthodox Synagogue.
Bnai Brith Institute in Estes Park.
We weary of trying to track down all of the organizations that Jack Greenwald was president of. And when he wasn’t president, he was dinner chair. And when he wasn’t dinner chair, he was toastmaster. In fact, he was also president of Columbine Toastmasters. His contribution to our community is incalculable. Not just in years of service, not just in diversity of service, but in spirit and style of service.
Speaking of style, how about blazers in many colors with color-coded yarmulkes to match? How about a sweeping signature that covered a quarter of the page?
Jack Greenwald loved to honor his roots. His father, the late Rabbi Y. Y. Greenwald of Columbus, Ohio, was an eminent scholar who wrote many respected works of Jewish law and history. For decades Jack would speak of his father often, and with reverence. But later in life Jack took it a step further — perhaps, we might say, a mile further. He decided to study every last page of every book his father wrote, enlisting the aid of scholars who could translate and explain.
To recite the greatness of the crown of his past was not enough.
To resummon a phone number.
To recall an incident.
To praise a forebear.
Not enough.
The words, the thoughts, the Torah, so to speak, of the ancestors had to be understood in their substance.
Many are appreciated for their value to our community. Few are loved. Love is a word easily tossed around. It would be hard to count all of the people who loved Jack Greenwald, and whom he loved in return.
Fun is a word that is easily corrupted. It would be hard to recapture the fun that countless people had when they were around Jack Greenwald.
Jewish commitment is a phrase that is easily, thinly, applied — for every little thing. It would be hard to recount all of the causes to which Jack Greenwald devoted his time. It is hard to know when he found the time to write the standard legal textbook on mechanic liens.
An irony — a blessed irony, if that not be a contradiction — lies in one organization of which he was not only president but founder and energizer: The Committee for the Enhancement of Jewish Life. It was dedicated to a single cause: the integrity of the Jewish rituals of death and mourning. Irony, we say, because when Jack Greenwald died he had to rely on all those who loved him to ensure that for him all of these rituals were adhered to, since all the members of his immediate family predeceased him. Blessed irony, we say, because his life reached its culmination in sync with the way he lived it: With all things Jewish at its center.
Upstairs, so to speak, it will not be difficult for Jack Greenwald’s phone number — 303-388-1217— to be remembered. If life is a calling, he loved to answer.
Copyright © 2021 by the Intermountain Jewish News
