Hy and Roz Gloth Auditorium

Click below to read more about the Hy and Roz Gloth Auditorium... 
It's probably all sorts of tacky to write about this, but I don't care. This is something that I'm very proud of and want to preserve here.  So, with that caveat being said, an auditorium at the Jewish Geriatric Services in Longmeadow was dedicated in honor of my grandparents.

Here is a link to the photos from the event.

Here is a link to an article about it.
Here is a link to JGS's press release (which I helped write the parts about my grandfather) 

Here is the text my uncle's speech:

When I was a child, I was always impressed by the people honoring my father with the toast, “L’Chiam.”  You see, his Hebrew name was “Chiam.”  It took me quite some time to learn they weren’t always toasting him in particular all the time- just some of the time.  Today the toast will be for my parents.

I want to thank you all for coming to share in honoring my mother and late father for their gift to JGS.  I would like in particular to thank Susan Halpern for her assistance in making this honor and event possible, and Martin Baicker for his kind words and thoughts and Rabbi Jacobsen for her spiritual inspiration.

JGS and the Jewish home has a special significance to my parents.  My father’s mother, my Grandmother Rose Gloth, lived at this home at the end of her life.  My father would visit her here every day. My mother’s sister, Anne Taines, my Aunt, similarly lived several years at the Jewish home in Worcester, and my mother’s brother, my Uncle Murray Lubowitz, was a resident at Ruth’s House for several years until he passed away this past June.  My mother was a volunteer here for many years.

My mother is the youngest of six children and grew up in Worcester.  My father had an identical twin and another brother who all grew up a couple of miles from here on Church Street in the North End of Springfield.  My parents grew up in simpler times.  Back then my mother’s father had a horse called Matza Ball, which he used to get around town.  In fact he would get stopped going with his horse onto the Mass Pike when the Pike was first built.

I imagine most children think their parents are great.  In my case and my sisters’, we are convinced our parents were the greatest.  My father worked hard his whole life from the time he was in his early teens during the depression, working for 10 cents an hour and glad to have the job, until well beyond any normal time for retirement.  He worked hard for a really simple but quite important reason: he loved his family.  Along the way, his financial and business skills enabled him to excel.  He could do unbelievable math calculations in his head as he analyzed the finances of a deal, whether in auctioneering, buying a business or real estate. He saw what his hard work could accomplish—bringing his family up in Longmeadow, providing his children with college educations and beyond and all the material comforts we could want.  As my father told me, “Dave, you’re lucky your parents were born before you.”

He had many expressions that often had humor and double meaning and, upon reflection, contained much wisdom.  One time I remember he got a new car and sold his old car to an individual, I think in Springfield.  The amount to be paid for the car had been determined and it came time to complete the transaction by having him pick up the car.  My father took the car and had it serviced, thoroughly cleaned and touched up so that it looked just about perfect.  I asked him why he went to that expense and effort, after all he had already made the deal and merely had to deliver it.  He told me that even though it was a used car for us, to this fellow he sold it to, it was a new car that he would be proud of and share with his family.  My father wanted it to be delivered in the condition that would be right.  He cared about people as individuals as well as the community.  His generosity in those days was anonymous as he would say “you shouldn’t let your hand get tired by patting yourself on the back.”

My father’s career involved doing a lot of business in Boston, driving there a couple time a week.  I got to see how he did things.  Not once did anybody have a bad word to say about my father.  They would only speak about him with respect and admiration, and not just in front of me.  I always thought if somebody couldn’t get along with my father, that person had some type of problem.  I never met such a person.  Everybody respected my father.  You can be nice and do well.

He didn’t use a lot of words in order to say a lot.  Perhaps that was so since he said, “English is the mother tongue because mothers don’t give fathers a chance to use it.” But my mother used the language well.  My mother was what today would be called a stay at home mom, in those days, a homemaker.  She was always behind the scenes in my father’s business dealings, providing advice, support and wisdom.  What a team.  My parents provided all that made our childhood and beyond filled with wonderful times and memories.  My parents had a way of giving each of their children a special relationship, whether it was encouragement or discipline, they had a way of making us feel good and that we could accomplish whatever we wanted.

If you want to be anonymous in the Springfield or Longmeadow area, then you shouldn’t go to stores or anywhere with my mother.  I rarely remember going out with her where somebody didn’t say “Roz!” and there would be a friend and of course they had to catch up, so if you were in a hurry, good luck.  My mother has an unbelievable memory.  She of course would know whoever came up to her and then tell me who they were related to, and I would get lost after the third relationship.

My sisters and I are lucky to get the best of what Jewish cooking can offer.  My favorites aren’t the traditional Jewish dishes, but rather the brightly colored cupcakes, the legendary apple cake and of course the ice cream cake.  What more could we want.  My mother is the glue that keeps it all together.  She always has family gatherings, whether for Thanksgiving, the Jewish holidays, birthdays or any good occasion.  While she brought us up, she always found time to care for others.  She would take the frequent trip to Worcester to see her mother or father, particularly when they were ill.  She was for many years involved with Meals-on-Wheels, providing for those in need.  As I mentioned my mother was a volunteer here.

     
There are no words or stories that can really express what my parents were and are—their unselfish love.  My mother and father’s efforts were always wrapped in love.  At the center of their ideals is love of family, friends and community.  My parents always cared for those in need.  Of course, that is why this dedication is so fitting.  This auditorium is a place of family and community, and the community doing good deeds, whether through the residents here with their activities, by JGS or other community organizations.  The strength and moral value of a society is best judged by how it treats the elderly and those who are ill or weak.  In this place we can be proud of the Jewish community and particularly JGS.

Today as son and daughters, grandchildren and one great-grandchild, Henry, who was named after my father, we as a family are grateful and proud for the honor given to my parents for their gift to JGS.  Now please raise your glass; it’s time for a toast to my parents. L’Chaim!