Dr. Jack Stanzler - R.I.P.

http://www.michaelmoore.com/words/must-read/dr-jack-stanzler-flint-hero


Dr. Jack Stanzler (May 7, 1928 — October 14, 2009)

October 17th, 2009 1:29 AM

Dr. Jack Stanzler: A Flint Hero
By Michael Moore

I would like to tell you about a good friend of mine who passed away this week. His name was Jack Stanzler. He was well known in Flint for decades, one of the true fighters for social justice in the area where I grew up.
Jack was always keen to remind his friends that he would outlive all of us. Though he was an unabashed jokester and storyteller, this was one of his pronouncements I always took as the truth. I simply grew to imagine a world that would always have Jack Stanzler at its very core, a force stronger than any center of gravity, a soul that was, in essence, shared by all.
in the mid-1970s, when I was first learning to tilt my head toward those windmills -- and feeling relatively alone doing that -- a doctor at Flint Osteopathic Hospital called me up one day and asked me to come in to see him. I thought this to be strange, as *you're* supposed to be the one calling the doctor for help, not the doctor calling you telling you you need his help before you even realized you were in need of help in the first place. Jack, needless to say, did not practice what was called "traditional medicine."
I went over to the hospital and sat down in a small and empty waiting room. And then in walked a man in a white coat who, at first glance, could best be described as a cross between Santa Claus and Zero Mostel in Fiddler on the Roof. He had the biggest, warmest, most gentle smile on his face, and as I stood to greet him with a handshake, he gave me a hug instead and said, "Brothers don't do handshakes. You and me -- we're in this together!"
The "this" he was referring to would, for the next 30+ years, be anything and everything that had to do with trying to make our town of Flint -- or the world in general -- a better place to live. There were so many times in those early years when I would tire of running into brick walls, but Jack would always be there to pick me up and then come up with the next big idea, the next sure-fired tactic, the new and brilliant strategy, the ONE action that will surely turn things around for the better. Jack was a bottomless well of optimism and good cheer. He simply refused to let me or anyone else give up. He sought nothing -- and I mean NOTHING -- in it for himself. The only reward he sought would be the hope that someone who had it worse off might be a bit better off if he, Jack, had the chance to be there for them. To hold their hand. To walk in their shoes. To have their back. To love them -- unconditionally -- knowing that was a force more powerful than any politician's promise or policeman's billy club.
A few weeks ago I was able to come to Ann Arbor and sit with Jack and show him this new film I'd made. It was clear in the condition he was in that he would not be able to get through the entire two hours. So I asked him if I could skip ahead a bit because I wanted to show him this part near the end that had at its heart and soul the very inspiration he's always been to me. The scenes came up of the Flint Sit Down Strike, and then the words of Franklin Roosevelt (who was the president of the United States when Jack was a kid). I leaned over during these final scenes, fighting back my tears because I knew that he was not long for this world, and I said to him, "This part's for you, Jack. It's because of you."
I cannot describe what a tremendous loss it feels like to no longer have my friend and brother who, to this day, I've never shaken hands with. Always that hug, that big beautiful hug that felt like life itself was being absorbed into your being.
Jack can never really leave any of us. In addition to being the best dad, husband, brother and friend to all, he was also, for those of us from Flint, our Tom Joad. As Tom, in "The Grapes of Wrath," promises his mother before he leaves, knowing that he will never see her again, he assures her that, in fact, she will always see him.
"Well, Ma, maybe it's like Cassy says. A fellow ain't got a soul of his own, just little piece of a big soul, the one big soul that belongs to everybody. Then it don't matter, 'cause I'll be all around... I'll be everywhere. Wherever you can look -- wherever there's a fight, so hungry people can eat, I'll be there. Wherever there's a cop beatin' up a guy, I'll be there... I'll be there in the way kids laugh when they're hungry and they know supper's ready, and when the people are eatin' the stuff they raise and livin' in the houses they build - I'll be there, too. See?"
Yes, Jack, we see. We see because of you, and we know that whenever we see an injustice, or hear the cries of those mistreated, we will see you. And we will know what to do.
Michael Moore

A good long life. RIP DR

Condolences to Mike and to Jack's family which I'm sure was huge and not all blood related.