Norman's Story

This gorgeous blonde walked into the room.  I turned to my friend Paul Schwartz and said, “I am going to meet her.” And then she walked over with her friends to my table.

This was the story my father, Norman LaPoff, would tell anyone who would listen, when he recalled the day he met my mother Marcia Ellen at Grossingers in the late 1940s.  That day began a loving relationship that turned into a 65 year marriage. A caring and devoted husband, father, and son, Norman was born in April 1928 to his parents Sara and Paul LaPoff in Barnet Hospital in Paterson, NJ. 

But the story really started in 1904 when my great grandparents Jacob and Celia LaPoff arrived at Ellis Island with their three small children Irving, Al, and Paul.  As many Jewish immigrants, they settled in Paterson where Jacob became a silk weaver to support his growing family.  He worked at Artistic Silk Company in Bamford Mills.  They lived at East 24th St.  Eventually three more sons were born to the family- Sam, Harry and Lou.

There’s not much I know about Paul’s childhood, but the story continues that he became a clothing merchant. He met my grandmother Sara Zaentz at Meyer Brothers where she was a salesperson.  When they married, her father, who had been setting each of his sons up in the hardware business, found a small hardware store on 21st Ave. that had gone bankrupt. Thus began the LaPoff family’s venture into selling Hardware.

Paul and Sara lived at Hamilton Ave. with their two children, Norman and Phyllis. Based on the stories I heard, they enjoyed growing up in Paterson. My dad went to PS 13, Camp Equinunk in the summer, and was active as a youth leader in Temple Emanuel. (I have a siddur which he received from Cantor Martin Adolf in recognition of his, “beautiful work at all evening services.”) He then attended Eastside High School. He left Paterson to matriculate at Arizona State University where being one of the only Jews, he joined the Intercollegiate Zionist Federation of America.  I found an article stating that, “Norman LaPoff will speak at the next meeting on Palestine’s commerce and banking.” 

In 1951 my parents were married at the Plaza Hotel in NYC. The ceremony was performed by Rabbi Arthur Buch, Dad’s rabbi from Temple Emanuel. Shortly afterward, they lived at Fort Belvoir, Virginia while he was serving in the army. Rabbi Buch sent a letter to his parents which included this quote.

“I want you to know that Norman has been the leading light of our fellowship and I look forward with you to his safe return to our midst where he can again resume his post of leadership at the Temple.”

Meanwhile, my grandfather Paul, who had a good business sense and a great way with people, thrived in the hardware store and was able to expand after a few years. He had a beautiful home built for the family at 600 Park Avenue.  But tragically, in 1958 he died of a massive heart attack.

One of the things I always admired in my dad was his resilience.  He had a knack of taking responsibility for his life and those whom he loved.  Despite his grief, he needed to take over United Hardware which he did along with the help of their devoted employees. He had also started building a house in Teaneck (which he designed) for my mom, my brother Michael and me.   Although we now lived in Teaneck, we maintained a strong connection to Paterson.  We both continued to attend Yavneh Academy until 1966. (Yes! The original Yavneh in Paterson with Rabbi Abraham Atkin!)

Temple Emanuel was undoubtedly the family’s strongest link to Paterson. When Bruce and I planned our wedding in 1976, it was the only place I considered. At the time my dad was president, so he managed to have the ballroom spruced up, although not back to its former glory. I think I was the last bride to get ready in the upstairs brides room.   I couldn’t have imagined a more beautiful and dramatic scene than walking down the aisle with Cantor Lefkowitz singing. The impact made by Rabbi David Panitz and Cantors Weissman and Lefkowitz on my life is almost too great to be measured.

My dad had a way of engaging people and easily made new friends.   He always considered himself a Patersonian.  Although he moved a few times before he ended up in Paramus at Brightview, the threads connecting him to his childhood remained.  With his warm friendly personality he became a much loved resident there. They asked him to be an ambassador to help ease the transition to assisted living for new residents.

One day he called me asked, “Do you have my high school yearbook?  I just met a guy named Kal and we think we went to Eastside High School together.”

 Well, they were right. I dug up the yearbook and Kal had signed it.  The two “boys” became close friends until the very end.  Those ties to Paterson were still hanging on.

My dad was passionate about life and his family. He lived his last year staying positive even amidst the lockdowns. He loved me and our growing family with every ounce of his being.  Sadly, he passed away during Covid before we had a vaccine.  The funeral he dreamed of so long ago was replaced by a graveside minyan attended only by his immediate family. There was no shiva, other than one zoom shiva with his dear friends from Temple Emanuel.

I am proud to share the story of my family and its roots in Paterson.  I only lived in Paterson for the first five years of my life, and a few strong memories linger. I recall waiting on a long line with my dad for poppy seed bagels, the smell wafting through the air.  I vividly remember visiting the deer in the park across the street from my grandparents’ house.      I also think fondly of the magnificent high holiday services at Temple Emanuel with the congregation packed to standing room in the aisles. Looking up at the balcony, Dad proudly explained that those who couldn’t afford tickets were welcome to sit there. 

Ironically, as a retired teacher I have found Paterson again.     I volunteer at PS 15, helping children learn to read. Each week, as I drive by 21st Ave, I think about the roots that my great grandparents planted in Paterson when they arrived as new immigrants. They are still connecting me.  I miss my dad but feel lucky that this amazing man was my father. Our memories of the long life he lived will be something we can pass on to his great grandchildren, thus securing the threads that tie us to Paterson.

Cathy LaPoff Grossman, JHSNJ member