This is Thursday, January 20, 2005, and I’m sitting at my kitchen table
along with my wife Geraldine and my daughter Sherry Friedman. My address is 490
N. Columbia Avenue in Bexley, Ohio, where I reside for six months and six months
in Florida. I am 73 years old. I was born in 1931 at 598 E. Mound Street,
Columbus, Ohio, the youngest of 12 children, six boys and six girls. My parents
names were Joe and Esther Hoffman. My father was born in Russia and came to this
country at the age of 15 without his parents. My mother was born in Ludlow,
Kentucky. My parents were married on August 6, 1911.

I have, I am the youngest of 12 children. The oldest brother was my brother
Herman who was born in 1912. My sister Sarah, who has passed away, was born in
1914. My other sister Lena was born in 1925 and has passed away. My brother
Philip was born in 1916 is still here. My other brother Max born in 1919, Max
has passed away. The next sister is Molly born in 1920. Molly has passed away.
The next brother is my brother Meyer born in 1922. Meyer has passed away. My
other brother was born in 1923 and was born right after childbirth, Isadore. The
next sister is Leah who was born in 1925. Leah has passed away. The next sister
is Mildred was born in 1927. Mildred is still here. The next sister is Annette,
born in 1928. Annette is still here. And me, I was born in 1931 and I’m still

Voice: Thank goodness.

The only siblings I have are my brother Philip and my sisters Mildred and
Annette. My first wife, Rita Katz, was a Holocaust survivor. We met at the
Jewish Center Bowling Alley and were married two years later on April 29, 1957.
We have five children, Bradley, Eric, Sherry, Debbie and Seth. They’re all
married with children. My wife and I were married 32 years when she died at the
age of 52 of breast cancer. Five years later I met Geraldine Schottenstein, also
widowed from H. Jerome Schottenstein. We were married on March 23, 1993. We will
be married 12 years this March. She has four children, Jay, Anne, Suzie and

I will be speaking about my dear friend Harry Greenblott who was buried
yesterday, January 19th, at the Agudas Achim Synagogue. I spoke on
the bima about my dear friend Harry and I was asked to tell you
about my relationship and my memories of Harry Greenblott again.

I want to offer my condolences to the family. I remember all of the children
and family members personally. My brother Max and Shirley Hoffman made the
connection between Harry and his first wife Harriet. They then became engaged
and were married. My brothers Max, Meyer and all of my siblings were personal
friends of Harry Greenblott, his mother and father and his sisters Jean
Passoff and Ruthie Salander. I remember when someone mentioned, before I spoke
about Harry’s relationship with his family, his mother and father and his sisters, the story that they didn’t mention was
the story about when Harry’s father was in St. Anthony’s Hospital and Harry’s
father was lying there near death. Harry asked Max to come with him and visit
his father. On the way, Harry picked up a pint of Jack Daniels bourbon and he
says to Max, “I’m going to give this to my father.” And Max said,
“Why, why are you doing this?” “It will help him. Maybe it will
give him another week.” His father drank a half a pint of it in bed and
guess what? It gave him another week.

I remember the day of the funeral when he was buried from Snider’s Funeral
Home on East Main Street. He was buried at the old cemetery at Beth Jacob on
Alum Creek, but today I will tell you that there was nobody like Harry
Greenblott. He was the most friendly, kind, compassionate, charitable person I
ever met. As Rabbi Dick had mentioned before, he belonged to three synagogues,
Temple Israel, Beth Jacob and today we’re here at Agudas Achim. I can remember
a story that when we first built the College Avenue synagogue, Beth Jacob
Synagogue, and Lou Levin, myself and Rabbi Stavsky came to Harry at his business
and asked him for financial help. He immediately said, “How much do you
want?” I started telling what I wanted him to give and Rabbi Stavsky
interrupted and said, “Let Harry be the one to make a decision.” He
immediately took a check out and wrote a check for $18,000. This is the kind of
person Harry was, my dear friend and our dear friend is. That is why I’m
standing here today. Thank you very much.

* * *

Transcribed by Honey Abramson

Proofread by Toby Brief

Corrected by Marty Hoffman