Jack Lobel

Birth date: Jun 9, 1921 Death date: Jan 23, 2015

Jack Lobel passed away from pneumonia on January 23, 2015 in Granite Bay, CA. He was 93 years old. Jack was born in the Bronx, New York on June 9, 1921, the male half of a set of twins. His twin sister, Gertrude, his older sister, Read Obituary

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Laura&Richard Lobel

559w ago

Flat TiresBecause we always had to have a vehicle large enough to carry produce from the market to the store we also had a very sturdy jack (no pun intended) in the car. Also, our lug nut wrench was much easier to use than standard ones. Whenever we saw people pulled over on the side of the road with flat tires we would stop. My father was always thinking that their car would fall off the crappy jacks which most people had and that someone would get seriously hurt.At a young age dad taught me how to set the jack correctly under the vehicle and how to lift the vehicle with it. While I was doing that dad would loosen the lug nuts. By the time he got all the nuts loosened I would have the car high enough so that the tire could be pulled off and a spare put back on. He immediately started tightening the nuts and I started bringing the car down. He and I got so good at it we thought we could be a pit crew. We had the tire changed before the people knew what was happening.Inevitably, the folks we helped would offer money. Dad of course turned it down. If they insisted he would say something like â??give the kid a couple of bucksâ?. But eventually I started turning it down too because I wanted to emulate him and be gracious. It always made us feel good and we knew that we just might have saved someone.Hereâ??s an epilogue. My mother, who did not start driving until they moved to Florida, got a flat one day. She did not have the foggiest idea of what to do. She was on I-95, a very busy interstate and she was scared. So what do you think happened? Yup, some good samaritan pulled over and changed the tire for her. Karma does happen.My father was not in the least bit surprised. What goes around comes around he said. We did not help people for a payoff but the universe saw that he got one anyway. His treasured wife was made safe.

Laura&Richard Lobel

559w ago

A Sandwich or a Sendvitch?Ah, the worldâ??s most famous deli, Katzâ??s. Everyone knows they make a VERY large pastrami on rye. But it was not large enough for dad. He taught me the secret to getting not a sandwich at Katzâ??s but (put on your eastern European accent listening ears here) a SENDVITCH.I have to set the scene. For those of you who donâ??t know, when you walk into Katzâ??s they give you a punchcard. All that is on the card are amounts. Although there is a small section of the restaurant that offers waiter service, no one uses it. That is not what the Katzâ??s experience is about. It is about walking up to the various counters and ordering. Whether you wanted a hot dog, a knish, or a sandwich there is a counter area to go to. Behind the counters were the servers. Also however, there were signs. Lot of signs. And they all said some variation of No Tipping. Some said Please donâ??t tip the countermen (all men in those days). Whatever the exact words the intent was clear. The countermen were not to be tipped.The usual transaction went like this. You walked up to the counter. You told the counterman what you wanted. He handed you your food and then you handed over your punch ticket. He would punch the price of what you just ordered into the ticket. So your hands and those of the counterman crossed AFTER he made your food. Therein was the problem. Even if you wanted to secretly tip him you could not gain from it. Now dadâ??s way of transacting business. He walked up to the counterman and ordered his corned beef or pastrami sandwich. But BEFORE ordering he handed the man his ticket. In my dadâ??s hand was more than just the ticket however. There was fifty cents. A dollar bill if he was ordering two sandwiches. So the counterman who couldn't get tipped all day just got some money! And in return, we got enough meat on our sandwiches to feed several hefty, hungry lumberjacks. That, my father said, is a sendvitch!P.S. This technique served me well for many years. Unfortunately, and the reason I can reveal it, is that it no longer works. Sometime during the many years I was away from New York, Katzâ??s changed its policy. It now allows tipping and there are tip jars all along the counter. Of course I put the tip into the jar BEFORE the sandwich was made hoping for the old time result. To no avail. Apparently, the countermen are so used to getting tips that they donâ??t even notice. Oh how I miss the old days. Thanks Dad, for teaching me the trick. Sure made for some large meals!

Laura&Richard Lobel

561w ago

From Eleanor Smith:One clear memory was when Bob and I had recently moved into our new house in Milford, CT (in 1974).Â I had mentioned to my sister, Dita, who in turn mentioned it on the "grape vine," that we needed a refrigerator. Before we knew it, Jack and Richie Chayet "found" a refrigerator in one of the apartments where they lived in Queens, and drove up to Milford, late at night, and brought us that refrigerator!

Gary Falk

561w ago

I guess I met Jack Lobel when I was a kid and he was one of the many cousin's who would visit my grandparents in Washington or my father Moe Falk. However, I didn't get to know him until my parents moved to Boca Raton and all of a sudden were reunited with literally dozens of relatives in that magical Fountain of renewed Youth that my daughter described as like being in college for the generation that had been to busy to have that experience. Jack was about the most authentic person I ever met. What you saw was what you got with no adornment or packaging. For a guy who grew up when men were supposed to (I assume) not expose of share any emotions, Jack was always in touch with his and very honest about them and his feelings for the people the people in his life. And he didn't tolerate pretense in others very well if at all as evidenced by some of the comments he made to me about his fellow (late) octogenarians. I think one the hardest things for him was dealing with the fact that he didn't have his crew or other contemporaries to do guy things with like going bowling. Of course he did continue his loving friendship with my mother, his older cousins wife whom he'd call daily when they were both in Florida and visit weekly, flowers in hand. She loved him and talked to him as an irrepressible somewhat rascally younger brother. I enjoyed his stories about the War or running a produce stand in the Lower East Side frequented by Allen Ginsburg and the Mob, but more than anything I'm delighted to have simply gotten to know Smiling Jack.

Eleanor Smith

561w ago

The obituary is beautiful. Jack can rest in peace, knowing that he will live on in the memories of the many people who knew and loved him. He was kind and generous to a fault, helping friends and strangers alike. He will be missed.

Laura&Richard Lobel

561w ago

Jack and his fatherMy grandfather Moishe sold fruits and vegetables from a horse drawn wagon. His son helped him sell and made deliveries. When Jack opened his own store his father gave up the wagon and went to work at the store. The plate glass window in front said Father and Son Grocery. Only one problem. Who was the boss? Jack's claim was obvious. He owned the store. But Moishe was the father! What kind of father is not the boss of his son? Besides, he had been in the produce business so many more years, knew so muchmore, he felt.So who was the boss? Who won the right to rule? In a way, no one. In another sense, both did. They butted heads all day long. Always sure the other was the too stubborn one. And each of them pretty much did what he wanted to in the first place. Somehow they made it work. Here's the kicker. When the store got closed for the day the two of them would instantly revert to father and son. The change was palpable. One could feel it, see it and certainly observe it. Moishe was the father and he was treated as such. Jackwas the son and was treated as one. It was an amazing transformation to behold!Richard Lobel

Laura&Richard Lobel

561w ago

Coney Island It was a Sunday. For some reason we had to open the store for half a day. That was very unusual but not unheard of. Usually once we closed the store we would head home. Then dad could sleep or we would go visit family. But this time, while we were still on the BQE, dad thanked me for helping and then amazed me by saying we could do whatever I wanted to for the rest of the day. I don't know if mom and Ann had plans or if this was spontaneous. I never did know the answer. But I did know immediately what I wantedto do. I wanted to go to Coney Island with my dad. Just me and dad. The family lived fairly close to the amusement park area and we had been there many times. Always as a family though. Great times. We would go on the bumper cars and aim towards each other. No mercy! We would try to break balloons by throwing darts. I have no idea how many goldfish I brought home from that game. We would walk on the old wooden boardwalk. We most definitely would have a Nathan's hot dog with French fries. Aswonderful as these times were, the idea of being there alone with my dad was delicious. However, I was sure when I suggested it that dad would say we couldn't do that. We would do something else, something quicker so that we could get home. Instead he simply said OK and off we went to Coney Island.Looking back on that day today I wish I remembered the rest of the day. What rides we went on. What games we played. What we ate (probably no great surprise there). But the truth is I don't remember any of it. And it doesn't matter. Because the important thing was not what we did but simply that my dad was willing to take me. To forego the time with mom and Ann when time was such a precious commodity. That I got to spend the day with just dad. That I was special to him. I couldn't want anything more than that. Ever.————————————-It's funny what we remember and what we don't. I wrote a note to my dad on my 40th birthday about the day I just described. He appreciated it. Made him smile and cry at the same time he told me. But he did not actually remember the day. I can only surmise that it did not stick out in his memory because he thought any day together was special and this one was not that different. But to me it was.Richard Lobel

Laura&Richard Lobel

561w ago

This is about Jack Lobel, a mostly good man, a sometimes great man, who also did some things that most people would not find good or great. The is factual in the sense that we and other contributors have tried to accurately relate what we remember or were told. But memories are fallible and most of the people who told us things are long gone. So what? This is what we remember so this is what is important, at least to the one whose mind holds the memory.I wish so hard that I knew more about him. That I asked more questions of him and those who knew him well like his parents and siblings. But I didn't. So I am limited to what I do know and remember. That's why we are asking others to contribute as well. Between all of us hopefully a fairly accurate picture will be drawn.We would love to hear from anyone who can add to these accounts. Thank you one and all. Let us celebrate the life of JACK LOBEL.Sincerely,Laura and Richard Lobel

Laura&Richard Lobel

559w ago

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