An Elegy for Two Neighborhood Heroes
My tribute to two beautiful individuals who contributed so very much in their lives. May their memories be for a blessing and may their legacies continue to inspire and animate our work.
“Rabbi Matia ben Harash said: Upon meeting people, be the first to extend greetings” (Pirkei Avot 4:15).
There are “wait and see” people in this world, and there are “jump right in” people. Our community lost two of the latter recently. In November we said goodbye to Stuart Stainman. On New Years Day, Juanita Thompson Garrison left us as well. Each person was connected deeply with Beth Am and Reservoir Hill. Stuart was a longtime member of the shul, quietly and firmly advocating for accessibility and environmental justice. Stuart was an amateur historian, docent, and serial volunteer. He could often be found digging holes in front of the shul and around the neighborhood – in order to plant new trees.
Of Stuart, his godson Samuel Abrams wrote: “American life is filled with extraordinary men whose names never appear in newspapers, whose achievements are never posted on social media, and whose virtues are visible only to the families and communities shaped by their quiet constancy…. Last week, one such man died suddenly…. He was not famous. He did not seek attention. He lived without pretense. And in that ordinariness, he was exceptional.”

Abrams describes just how rare and special it is for a person to eschew attention while painstakingly giving their own attention to others. “At a moment when American institutions feel brittle—when men are withdrawing from work, community life, family formation, and civic and religious institutions—Stuart’s life is a reminder that a society depends on millions like him. Ordinary men who wake each day and choose to care. Men who love their children without hesitation. Men who sustain synagogues, coach teams, tend parks, and keep neighborliness from disappearing. Men who save quietly so they can give quietly. Men who see service not as sacrifice but identity.”
Juanita Thompson Garrison, like Stuart Stainman, also led a life of service – to family, community, and God. For years, until her last, she sported a money piece hair dye, a little pizazz resting above her forehead, drawing attention to her beautiful eyes and broad smile. “Hey baby,” Ms. Juanita would say as she sauntered over with her little black dog pepper. She was, in the words of Rabbi Matia ben Harash, “the first to extend greetings.” But she often bemoaned this fact. She wanted others to get better at saying “hello,” especially some Beth Am congregants who might drive into the community, park, and walk to the synagogue without doing so. One year, IFO, Beth Am’s sister non-profit of whose board Ms. Juanita was a founding member, created a “just say hello” campaign.
Juanita, like Stuart, was devoted to the essentials without any expectation of reward. Beth Am’er and friend Dianne Schwartz called her a “live life to the fullest lady.” They would volunteer together, registering returning citizens to vote, go for walks together, “gab” together. “In all her story telling,” Dianne said of Juanita, “I kept looking for someone who might be angry about how the city of Baltimore went through terrible times and how the Black community was horribly marginalized over the course of many decades throughout her life. but she would get mad when I tried to ask about things race related. She would yell that we all just need to care about our neighbors and our family and our friends and take care of one another. And learn how to be polite and respectful.”
Of Stuart, Samuel Abrams wrote, “What makes his death so painful is what makes his life so important: There is no flashy story, no viral moment, nothing that fits our culture’s thirst for spectacle. Only steadiness, devotion, reliability, sacrifice, curiosity, and love.” The same could be said of Juanita. Rabbi Matia ben Harash, who like Ms. Juanita, reminds us to “say hello,” also advises: “Be a tail unto lions and not a head unto foxes.” Leaders sometimes lead from the front and other times from behind. These beloved people did some of both. But each was acutely aware of the need to serve with pride (pun intended) and not deceit. The old saying goes, “we’re only as good as the people we surround ourselves with.” But when you care about your neighborhood, your synagogue, your church, and your family, you don’t always have that luxury. Instead, taught Stuart and Juanita, you just take the people around you and make them better.
A version of this post will appear in the February issue of Jmore



Really moving tribute. The distinction between "wait and see" and "jump right in" people is such a powerful framing for how we engage with community. That quote about ordinary men who wake each day and choose to care genuinly stuck with me. In my own neighorhood Ive seen how much small consistent acts of service add up over time.
Deeply moving tribute. The contrast between "wait and see" people and "jump right in" people captures someting essential about how communities actually hold together. I've noticed in my own nieghborhood that the folks who keep things running are never the loudest, but they're always there. That line about making the people around you better insteadof just choosing better people really stuck with me.