my Rabbi Stampher story

I grew up in a little town in Upstate New York, where my traditionally-Conservative Jewish upbringing defined my family life.  I moved to Portland in 1977 and was absolutely unaffiliated with any Jewishness for a few years.

In 1984, I met Karen, who grew up in a home that was definitely culturally Jewish (her mother's first cousin was choreographer Jerome Robbins - think 'Fiddler on the Roof') but they were not especially observant.

When she became pregnant in 1985 and we decided to get married, I knew that my Mother would appreciate a real Jewish wedding, so we set out to find a rabbi who would do what needed to be done.

Our first visit was to the esteemed rabbi of the major Reformed temple, who received us graciously in their imposing stained-glass sanctuary, and described a lovely possible scene, with music, flowers, etc. "Just one thing," he added at the end. "I insist you join this congregation."

It was not unreasonable, I suppose, but when we said we hadn't planned to make a commitment along those lines, he very quickly said basically, "then I cannot do anything for you." and we were dismissed.

Someone (no idea who) suggested we speak with Rabbi Stampher at Neveh Shalom.  He received us in his office, listened to our story, and said "I'm happy to do it".  He officiated for us, at Karen's cousin's house, with our parents, relatives, and Mrs. Stampher present.  He provided the Chupa and a blank Ketubah, I gratefully handed him a 'contribution' and that was that.

Years passed - during most of that time, I had no further contact with Neveh Shalom, as we eventually joined Havurah Shalom (Reconstructionist).  Now, however, I accompany the choir at Neveh Shalom, and our rehearsals each week are held in the 'Stampher chapel'.

He passed away just shy of 98 a couple of days ago, and is being remembered across Portland as one of the leading figures of Jewish life in this town. 

In all the years since our wedding, I spoke to him just one more time.

One day in the late 1990's, I happened to see him at the JCC, for some long-forgotten event.  I went up to him and said, "Rabbi, you certainly don't remember me, but you married me and my wife many years ago.  I just wanted you to know that our son, Ben, is currently studying for his Bar Mitzvah."

He paused, smiled, and gently said to me, "you made my day".