In the Yiddish language, one of the greatest compliments you can pay a man (I'm not sure if there's a female equivalent) is to call him a "mensch." The word - as is the case with many Yiddish words - is not easy to translate well ("man" doesn't quite do it), but I think Wikipedia is on the right track, defining "mensch" with phrases like "a person of integrity and honor," "someone to admire and emulate," "someone of noble character," "a stand-up guy," and "a person with the qualities one would hope for in a dear friend or trusted colleague." By those definitions, based on everything I know about him, Abe Pollin - who died yesterday at age 85 - qualified as a "mensch" of the first order. Start with the Washington Post headline: "Man who transformed Washington dies at 85." How would you like to know that your life would be so consequential, that when you died the largest newspaper in town would headline its lead story of the day about you, and specifically how you "transformed" the place you lived for the better? And how would you like multiple columns written about you, including one headlined "Long-standing loyalty" and another entitled "A man who reached out to others"? How would you like the lead story on your passing talk about how you were "the pillar of countless charitable and civic efforts," "well known for [your] philanthropy," someone who "championed improving the lives of children," who "spearheaded UNICEF relief drives for Africans, and then for Kurds in Northern Iraq, and for women and children to survive winter in Afghanistan?"
How would you like that, in addition to all your accomplishments - in Abe Pollin's case, "bringing professional basketball and hockey franchises here and spending $220 million to build a massive sports and entertainment arena that has dramatically changed the face of downtown Washington" - you would be remembered for your "loyalty, warmth, as well as fire?" That you would be described as "extraordinarily kind, when [you] didn't need to be" or "the most loyal man I've ever known in my life" or that the way you worked "made other people swell their chest and take pride in where they were and who they were?"
Something tells me almost any of us would like that a great deal, even in a culture that today too often celebrates celebrity for celebrity's sake, glitz and "controversy" over actual accomplishments, superficiality over depth, even ignorance and "know-nothingism" over knowledge and wisdom (yes, I'm thinking of the Sarah Palins of this world). Anyway, I certainly want to believe - maybe it's naive, I don't know or particularly care - that even in an era of crassness and coarseness, being considered a "mensch" is still one of the greatest compliments you can pay a man (or a woman, if there's a female equivalent of that word). And no question about it, Abe Pollin certainly was a "mensch." Alav hashalom; may you rest in peace, sir.
