It seems to be almost impossible for some Madisonians to imagine the Goodman brothers, Robert and Irwin, separately. Nearly all accounts of these renowned businessmen and philanthropists describe them together, and in terms of each other.
Robert, who died this past April 1 at age 90, was the extroverted one in public, “very gregarious,” according to Steven H. Morrison, executive director of the Jewish Federation of Madison. “He really told ‘groaner’ jokes” and “enjoyed being with people.”
Irwin, who died this past August at age 94 (see September 2009 Chronicle), “was very reserved,” said Morrison.
Indeed, most accounts of them say that in the downtown Madison jewelry store they ran successfully from 1937 until their retirement in 1998, Robert was the greeter in the showroom, while Irwin worked in the back.
Yet in private, they seemed to reverse roles. Irwin became “the more verbal one” and Robert “the shy one,” said Morrison.
But “their values … were completely shared and identical,” said Morrison. “They had genuine love for the community, the university, and the people here.”
And they left permanent marks on Madison’s Jewish and general communities. Said Ghita Bessman, who knew the Goodman brothers since 1950. “There’s not a Madison newspaper that doesn’t have a Goodman something in it… Every aspect of the community was of interest to them.”
And Morrison added: “There’s barely anything in this Jewish community that has not received their support and encouragement and funding.”
Sensitive to individuals
The Goodman brothers became most famous for larger gifts and projects. These included in the general community Madison’s first community swimming pool (for which they donated $2.8 million; and in the Jewish community the Irwin A. and Robert D. Goodman Jewish Community Campus, the 154-acre recreation and educational facility in Verona.
But they also made gifts that were anonymous and personal. “They were very sensitive to individuals with needs,” said Bessman, who also is a former president of the Madison Jewish federation and a former Hadassah regional president. “There was just real kindness about them.”
And for all their differing personalities, they apparently were warm people who did not get angry or express negative emotions very often.
Indeed, Morrison said, “One of the few times I saw them get upset was when Israel would be criticized unfairly” on television or in newspapers. Indeed, they were “passionate supporters of Israel and long-time Zionists,” who visited the area even before Israel became a state and many times since.
Morrison said their favorite lunch hangout “typified them.” Though they were both vegans — i.e., vegetarians who eat only plant products — they often ate at a particular Ponderosa Steak House in Madison because “they had developed a relationship with the owner,” who both created a booth specifically for them and made sure a vegan meal would be prepared for them.
Their diet was only one aspect of their lifelong interests in health and activity. These natives of St. Paul, Minn., were athletes when younger and “were great fans of all kinds of sports” throughout their lives, said Bessman.
They also frequently supported exercise and nutrition programs and facilities — not just the Madison community pool, but also the aquatic center on the Jewish community’s campus.
Even after death, the Goodman brothers — who always lived together and never married — will keep on giving to Madison, through their own Goodman Foundation and through funds they had established at the university, United Way and elsewhere, said Morrison.
Still, Morrison said, their deaths are a great personal loss. “The reality is, I just miss them so much. That permanency that death brings reminds you to take the opportunity that there is to be with people you care about.”
Formerly op-ed editor, Leon Cohen has written for The Chronicle for more than 25 years.