The Boston Phoenix
December 9 - 16, 1999

[Features]

Lenny Zakim 1953-1999

Remembering a crusader for racial, social, and religious justice

by Stephen Mindich

When I received word last Thursday morning that my friend Leonard Zakim had lost his five-year battle with bone cancer, I was filled with a profound sense of loss. Over the years, he and I had debated and discussed everything from politics, religion, and rock and roll to a host of intimate personal matters. We were not close pals and I did not "hang" with Lenny on a regular basis, but whenever we were together, whenever we spoke, he made me feel as though I were his best friend.

At his funeral last Friday morning, it was obvious that Lenny affected many people this way. He was that kind of person. The synagogue was so crowded that hundreds of attendees had to watch and listen to the celebration of Lenny's life in another room, via closed-circuit television. And to judge from the range of those in attendance, from official dignitaries of church and state to just plain folks, it was clear that a truly extraordinary person had died.

In his day job as executive director of the New England regional office of the Anti-Defamation League, Lenny Zakim was a warrior not just against anti-Semitism, but against racial, social, and religious injustice of every kind. Nothing could keep Lenny from fighting to fulfill his mission. There was no person too powerful for Lenny to reach out to for help. Though the ADL was his official institutional umbrella -- and he was indefatigable in his efforts on its behalf -- Lenny knew it wasn't institutions that changed the world, but individuals. And as was clearly evident at his funeral, his true gift was his ability to make each and every person he touched feel as though the betterment of humankind rested in that person's own hands. So when Lenny called, no matter how bold his request, you could give him only one answer: "yes."

I know that what I say next will seem extreme to many. And if I had never encountered Lenny Zakim, I would dismiss whoever said it as some kind of religious or spiritual zealot -- which I can assure you I'm not. But it's my opinion that Lenny Zakim was as close to a living saint as any human being the world has ever seen. No, Lenny wasn't a saint if you define "saint" as someone who forgoes all material and personal pleasures and has no apparent ego. By that definition, Lenny fails because he loved the good times; he loved Springsteen and the Grateful Dead (the fact is, he was a Deadhead); he loved many of life's hedonistic pleasures.

But if you define "saint," as Merriam-Webster does, as "one eminent for piety and virtue," as one who has the power to inspire others to be more, do more, and give more for the benefit of their world -- regardless of how broadly or narrowly their world is defined -- then Lenny Zakim's picture should be there in your mental dictionary right next to that definition.

I will miss Lenny, as will my wife, who worked with him after graduating from law school. Our hearts go out to Lenny's wife, Joyce, and their three kids -- my stepson Michael's best friend, Josh, and the twins Deena and Shari, who celebrated their bat mitzvahs just a few weeks ago. Indeed, countless thousands within and far beyond our Boston community will miss Lenny.

We can console ourselves with two thoughts. One is the realization that in his death -- as he did so frequently in his life -- Lenny has managed to remind us of what's important: in the end we all die, and it's only what we leave behind that matters. We should all aspire to leave behind what Lenny left: an inspired family, both his immediate family and his family of warriors. The other consolation is that Lenny's death has finally released him from the excruciating pain he suffered daily as a result of his disease, a pain he once described to me as feeling as if his bones were on fire. For that release, and for all he left behind, we can be grateful.

Rest in peace, friend.





Reflections from Lenny
You Must Make a Difference
Taking Your Life Back
Defeating the Ambush of Hate
No Justification for Silence

Excerpts from eulogies given
for Leonard Zakim




| home page | what's new | search | about the phoenix | feedback |
Copyright © 1999 The Phoenix Media/Communications Group. All rights reserved.