Like most kids, I always admired my father. I thought Murray Greenfield was the best, the strongest, and the smartest. What I didn’t know is that I wasn’t the only one who thought my father was a hero.
A few weeks ago, American author Blu Greenberg sent me an e-mail asking if she could speak with my father, whom she has known for many years. I said I would try to arrange it, and they recently got on Zoom. This is what Blu said:
“Murray Greenfield was a hero for me growing up. That’s how my parents spoke of him. Do you remember them, Murray? Rabbi Sam and Sylvia Genauer.”
My father said he certainly does remember them, as they were friends of his parents.
Blu went on: “Murray was the first – and for some time the only – person from our town, Far Rockaway, Queens, who just picked himself up and went to Israel at the war’s end. His purpose was to help the Jewish people in its fragile recovery from the Shoah and its intense work of building the Zionist state. Murray was in his early 20s and I was 12, so I didn’t remember knowing him personally then, but I do know that his action was a powerful statement of taking responsibility for the Jewish people, who were trying to heal.”
My father, who celebrated his 97th birthday on September 11, 2023, is probably one of the best storytellers around. He always told us about amazing things he did. He drove his own car at 14. He owned his first car at 15 and drove from New York to Washington, DC, and gave the car as a gift to a friend who needed it.
He was the head of the student body at Far Rockaway High School. It was his doing that the prom would not take place on Shabbat.
He volunteered in 1947 to sail the Aliyah Bet ship Hatikvah from the US to Europe to bring Holocaust survivors to Palestine.
He told me a story about how, on the ship, he helped passengers climb the ladder onto the ship, and they looked upon the American volunteers as their saviors.
He told me about how he was instrumental in building several neighborhoods for American olim, in Nayot (Jerusalem), Afeka (Tel Aviv), Herzliya, and Haifa.
He then told me that he was instrumental in raising funds to build the Neve Aviv Club, a retirement community in Kfar Shmaryahu.
To top this all off, he told me that when Leon Uris, author of the 1958 bestseller Exodus, came to Israel in 1957, people referred Leon to him so he could tell him the story of the Aliyah Bet for his research. He said Leon called him, went to the house, and listened to stories. Then he drank all the whiskey in the house and left. Years later, my father and his kid brother, Paul, went to visit Leon at his home on Shelter Island (at the tip of Long Island, New York), bringing with them bagels and lox and, of course, a bottle of whiskey. “So,” my father said to me, “he finished all the whiskey and did not even mention me in the book!”
Stories too good to be true: How could one man have made such a difference?
As a kid, I always wanted to believe him and his stories – but truth be told, it all sounded a bit much. How could this guy – as talented as he was – have accomplished all these things and made such a difference to Zionist history?
And then, I am reading a book by Polish-born author Michael Goldmann-Gilead, Who by Fire, Who by Water, and I cannot believe what I am reading. Miki writes that when climbing on the ladder going up on the Hatikvah ship, someone gave him a hand and said to him, “Shalom, chaver,” with a heavy American accent. And what do you know? That guy was Murray Greenfield, who became one of his best friends for the following 60 plus years.
A few years ago, I was walking with my father in New York City, and we passed the San Carlos Hotel. I had met the owner, Sy Haberfeld, years before, and we became friendly, so I asked my father if he minded if we stopped in to say hello. Well, as soon as we opened the door to his office, Sy looked right past me at my father and said, “Please come in, my hero. You’re the guy with the blue book about the boats, right, Murray? I’ve been following you for the past 50 years. You are my hero. For years I thought that I should have done what you did. But I did not, and you did. You had an art gallery, and then an import-export business. You wrote a book. You see, I know everything about you. You are really my hero.” At that point Sy also greeted me. I was in shock. My father was smiling widely (as he usually does), and as we walked out, he said to me, “We should come here more often with this sort of a welcome.”
A few days before my father’s 95th birthday, I received an e-mail from Michael Uris, Leon’s son, about a book he might want Gefen Publishing House (our family company) to publish. So I asked him if he contacted us as a result of our fathers’ connection. He said he knew nothing about it. When I told him the story and mentioned 1957 and the whiskey and the house on the island, Michael said, “That does sound like my father, and in 1957 I did travel with him to Israel.”
When my mother, Hana, got sick, we thought it would be a good idea for my parents to move to a retirement community. So we made calls and packed up suitcases and went off to the Neve Aviv Club for a two-week trial period. Not an inexpensive trial. When we arrived, my father said he wanted to speak to the manager. He told the manager how he had raised the funds for the place and said that he was one of the signatories on its establishment. The manager said, “Let’s have a look – the certificate is hanging here on the wall.” And what do you know? There was Murray Greenfield’s signature. They were very generous and told my father that his trial stay would be free of charge. My mother walked into the spacious apartment, and as I set the suitcase down on the floor, she said, “Let’s turn around. I am not staying here. I have a beautiful home, and that is where I will stay.” My father took amazing care of my mother until the day she passed at home in her own bed on January 27, 2014.
In my bar mitzvah parasha, Yitro, we read the Ten Commandments. My bar mitzvah sermon focused on the fifth commandment and the importance of kibbud av va’em (honoring one’s parents).
I am privileged and honored to have such a hero for a father. I am even more privileged that at 97, he is going strong, enjoying life, smiling, and believing in the State of Israel and in the Jewish people. I have my Tuesdays with Murray, as I try to see him every Tuesday at his home in Tel Aviv.
Abba, I have always admired you. I have learned so much from you that I may one day write a book about this, and I do know of a publisher who might publish it. I love you and wish you the best. May you continue to live a healthy and happy life. Enjoy the ice cream, the wine, and the beach. You are a real inspiration for many people – and especially me! ■
The writer is the owner and director of Gefen Publishing House, founded in Jerusalem in 1981 by his parents, Murray and Hana Greenfield.