Honorable Stanley Marcus
Recipient of the 2017 Honorable Theodore “Ted” Klein Lifetime Achievement Award
I once heard someone say that the difference between a tribute and a eulogy is that at a tribute there is always at least one person present who actually believes all the nice stuff being said. I’ll tell you, this time though, there isn’t even one person who believes this stuff. Still, it’s a pleasure to listen to, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
Usually at an event like this, the guy getting the award just tells a joke, mutters a few platitudes, and sits down. So here goes. There’s a guy who goes to his Rabbi and asks the Rabbi to make a funeral service for his dog. The Rabbi says: “Well, you know, it’s not really proper to treat a dog the way you would a human being.” And the guy says: “I’ll tell you how much this means to me Rabbi. You make some nice little funeral service for my dog, I’ll give the Shul $10,000.” So the Rabbi thinks about it, not very long, and says, “Okay, I’ll do it.” The next day the Rabbi shows up. The guy is there with a couple of his friends and the Rabbi makes a nice little 10-12 minute service. Afterward, the guy is sobbing and sobbing. The Rabbi comes over to comfort him and says, “I guess you really loved this dog, didn’t you?” “I did,” the guy says, “and all the more so now that I’ve heard you speak.” “Oh yeah?” says the Rabbi, “why’s that?” The guy says, “Because I never realized what the dog had done for Israel.”
Actually, the platitudes people usually reel off in these circumstances are that they don’t truly deserve the award, which happens to be true in my particular case, though not to the point I’d ever consider declining. Let me just incorporate by reference all past platitudes and, instead, say a couple of words from the heart. To get a lifetime achievement award you have to have lived a lifetime. So I qualify. I have a lifetime behind me. It’s a lifetime that happens to coincide with one of the most incredible human stories that has ever occurred.
I was born in 1946, the year after the worst and second worst, third, fourth and fifth worst years in all of Jewish history. And I now contemplate a world in which the Jewish people can hold their heads high. Our honor has been restored. We can defend our children. We have Israel. This is an achievement of staggering proportion, and one in which the United States
plays a gigantic role. For 2,000 years following the destruction of the Second Temple, the Jewish people have been defenseless. So much so that some people actually thought that we were submissive by nature. But then a bunch of crazy kids, inspired by Theodore Herzl’s notion that the source of our dilemma was the lack of a Jewish State, set out to make one, and against incredible odds, wow, did they succeed.
Last year fewer Jews died of violence in the entire world — anywhere, in the military, mugged on a subway in Paris or New York, violence of any kind — than did on any one day before there was Israel. And I don’t mean just during the Holocaust. I mean just any day — pick a day at random.
May 3, 1893, the Cossacks came through some town somewhere. The Jewish people today have found their place among the peoples of the world, and as a result, we have friends, we have some real friends. Before the war, we didn’t have any. When we needed friends the most, we were alone. Israel’s remarkable success derives above all from the amazing courage of the Israeli people. It also owes so much to the United States and to Americans of many faiths.
I have no doubt that an obsession with the Jews and a yearning to destroy them still lingers in more than a few human hearts. But really, at this point, I think these people would be well advised to take up another hobby. There is no way that the Jewish people can be taken out again — certainly not at 1942 prices. Our people will be here as long as humans walk the earth.
This project represents a huge, worldwide effort by millions of Jews, including many people in this room. The Greater Miami Jewish Federation, and Federations like it the world over, have contributed mightily to this effort, and to the communities in which they live. Receiving this award from Federation, and in the name of Ted Klein, a magnificent Judge, and on the same platform as Marcia Cypen, actually means a great deal to me. What this organization stands for has meant so much to me since the time I was a kid.
Not having much spare time and even less spare money — so far — I haven’t given the good works of the Federation nearly the support that I wish I could have. I think your willingness to give this award to me nonetheless is because you think I have tried hard to be a decent judge. And I have tried hard. But the truth is, so have all of the others. It’s a rare person who doesn’t throw himself entirely into something like that.
Years ago, I got an award from B’nai B’rith. When I told my wife, Judy, that I was getting this award, do you know what sprang into her mind? Judy is a great wife, as loving and supportive as anybody could be. She is also honest. She told me she saw a re-run of Seinfeld where Kramer gets a job as a seat-filler at the Tony Awards, because the television people covering the awards show didn’t want any empty seats on camera if someone has to leave the auditorium for one of the familiar reasons. And it happens that while Kramer is filling one particular seat, his entire row is called up to receive the Tony Award for their production of some Broadway show. As the row empties out, Kramer is swept up with the rest and ends up on stage, proudly but humbly accepting the Tony Award with the others. He then takes the little statue around town with him swelling with pride, and finally he shows up at Sardi’s, the famous after-theater haunt, to receive congratulations from an utterly unsuspecting public.
Well, here I am at Sardi’s utterly undeserving, and absolutely delighted that someone had to leave his seat just when this honor was being handed out. I have to tell you, deserving or not, like Kramer, this honor means so much to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
