By Zvi Gluck

As founder and director of Amudim, I deal with heartbreak on a daily basis and, sadly, I am no stranger to death. But despite having spent 18 years in the field of crisis management, I found myself completely blindsided by the unexpected and tragic passing on May 3 of my close personal friend, legendary philanthropist Mendy Klein.

People of a certain generation can tell you exactly where they were when JFK was shot or the moment they heard about the 9/11 terror attacks. For me, hearing that Mendy was gone ranks up there with those awful snapshots in time. A quick trip with my wife to Miami for a wedding turned into a night of heartbreak, with a single phone call informing me that the unthinkable had happened.

Mendy gone? Impossible.

But it wasn’t. At 65, one of the biggest ba’alei tzedakah of our time, the heartbeat of Amudim, our chairman of the board, and a person who was like a second father to me was no longer with us.

To truly appreciate the enormity of the loss that Klal Yisrael sustained with Mendy’s death, you have to understand how this remarkable Cleveland resident lived his life. The son of Holocaust survivors, Mendy grew up in New York. Even at a young age, it was clear that he was destined to travel a unique road.

In an interview with Cleveland.com several years ago, Mendy shared how his father told him, “My son, G-d blessed you with a brain and cursed you with a mouth, so you won’t be able to keep a job down.” Taking those words to heart, Mendy became his own boss, borrowing money from his father when he was just 16 to buy a taxi and launching a business that he operated for five years.

His next venture, a produce business at Cleveland’s Northern Ohio Food Terminal, lasted 13 years, but it was the property preservation business that he founded in 1990, Safeguard Properties, that really took Mendy to the next financial level. The company was tremendously successful, giving Mendy the ability to do what he loved most—giving to others.

Tzedakah was the highest priority for Mendy, and as one speaker at the levayah in Cleveland mentioned, just days before his death Mendy told family members that he wanted tzedakah to be his legacy. Another spoke of how the Tosher Rebbe had instructed Mendy to give until it hurts.

Even before his business hit it big, Mendy was a firm believer in tzedakah as the key to his financial success, following the Rebbe’s words even when it wasn’t easy. And when he saw his business flourish, baruch Hashem. Mendy’s charitable contributions grew exponentially and he worked harder and harder just to be able to give more and more and more.

By 2010, Mendy had handed control of the business to his son-in-law, Amir Jaffa, and he was able to devote himself to doing what he loved — taking care of others. He preferred to give his tzedakah with little fanfare, although those in the know were aware of Mendy’s legendary philanthropy. He supported countless Cleveland mosdos, but his generosity knew no geographic bounds. Not only did he enjoy giving, but he also used his own largesse to inspire others to follow his financial lead.

My own relationship with Mendy and the subsequent launch of Amudim began five years ago, sparked by another giant who championed Jewish causes, Lawrence resident Zev Wolfson. Both Mendy and I had traveled to Far Rockaway, he from Cleveland and me from Kew Gardens Hills, to celebrate the b’ris of the grandson of our dear mutual friend, Moshe Wolfson.

After the baby was given the name Zev for his illustrious great-grandfather, Mendy and I struck up a conversation about different issues that were going on in our respective communities. We didn’t even know each other’s names, but it didn’t take us long to realize that we had several cases in common, Mendy dealing with the financial side of things while I dealt with the practical issues. When Moshe eventually introduced us, Mendy, who was almost double my age, stood up and gave me a big hug. He told me he had heard that I was dealing with abuse and addiction in the Jewish community but expected me to be much older. “I guess age doesn’t really come into play when you are doing Hashem’s work,” he said. I think we both knew right then and there that we shared a passion that would bring us together to fight for Klal Yisrael.

Our mutual quest took on new life after Mendy texted me shortly after that fateful b’ris, asking me to join him for a dinner meeting. Walking into the restaurant, I saw that Mendy was sitting at a table full of prominent ba’alei tzedakah and askanim who all looked at me with what seemed to be displeasure, given my reputation for trying to raise awareness for crises that were typically not talked about publicly.

Without batting an eyelash, Mendy said, “I felt it was very important for Zvi Gluck to be here because of the work he is doing for Klal Yisrael.” He never let on that he had accidentally texted me instead of Zvi Bloom of Torah Umesorah, who spells his first name the same way I do. That was classic Mendy, stepping up to the plate so as not to embarrass me.

Given a platform to appeal to the hearts of these influential individuals, I took the opportunity to let everyone at that meeting know the awful truth about the plagues that were sweeping our community. One meeting later, Amudim was born to address these unprecedented crises, with Mendy always playing a significant role, both as a financial backer and as a hands-on piece of the puzzle.

His genuine compassion for others and his refusal to take no for an answer made Mendy the perfect pick to be our chairman of the board, a position he threw himself into wholeheartedly. His persistence opened doors for Amudim that I had never been able to unlock on my own and with his involvement our caseload grew steadily with every passing year.

In 2015, we held a two-day conference at which several hundred professionals from all over the world formulated concrete strategies for attacking the addiction and abuse that are snatching young lives from our community at an alarming rate. Our recently opened Israeli office was another brainchild of Mendy’s, born after he found out that the same problems that we are experiencing in America were taking place in Eretz Yisrael, a reality he refused to ignore.

Amudim Israel opened last fall to help the Anglo community in Eretz Yisrael, specifically yeshiva bachurim and seminary girls who were spending the year overseas. In no time at all, a second office, Amudim Kehillot, opened at the request of local rabbanim, setting up prevention and awareness programs as well as rabbinical training for the Israeli population.

The plight of our precious children always weighed heavily on Mendy’s mind. Gavz Boyz, our summer road trip program for teenage boys at risk, always stopped in Cleveland and Mendy made sure to rearrange his schedule so that he could host a barbecue for the boys.

Mendy would do more than just feed them. He spent time schmoozing with the guys, making them feel important and valued while simultaneously trying to find ways to prevent Jewish kids from ending up in trouble. Hoping to spread messages of awareness to a wide audience, Mendy was a driving force behind our PSA videos, which pulled no punches as they tackled hard-hitting subjects including addiction, sibling sexual abuse, suicide, and, most recently, teen drinking.

I always had the dreams and the vision for helping others, but it wasn’t until Mendy came along that things really began to happen in a truly meaningful way. He pushed me in the right direction and gave me wings, forcing me to do more and to try harder, because in the kind of work we do, failure isn’t an option.

Each of the more than 4,100 cases we have dealt with over the past four years is a testament to Mendy, who in his self-effacing way inspired countless individuals to do everything they possibly could so that others would no longer be in pain. In his lifetime, Mendy taught us so many lessons about compassion, giving, achdus, and family, but most of all about heart. He showed us by example what it means to give with a full heart 24/7, no ifs, ands, or buts.

Now, in his death, Mendy has left us with a final earthly challenge, obligating each of us to pick up where he left off so that we can finally put an end to the suffering. In my heart, I know that we won’t be waging this war alone, that Mendy will be joining us from olam ha’emes, as always, guiding us, pushing us, and inspiring us to give nothing less than our very best.

Zvi Gluck is the director of Amudim, an organization dedicated to helping abuse victims and those suffering with addiction within the Jewish community and has been heavily involved in crisis intervention and management for the past 18 years. For more information, visit Amudim.org.

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