‘One big, happy family’ | Wisconsin Jewish Chronicle

‘One big, happy family’

Three stories you’ll love, from L’Chaim Chaverut Clubhouse Northshore volunteers

Why do volunteers do what they do? For Jeri Danz, simply getting to see the smiles on people’s faces is prize enough. 

Danz is the volunteer coordinator for L’Chaim Chaverut Clubhouse Northshore, a resource right here in Milwaukee striving to foster connection, social proactivity, and joy for area older residents. 

Although Jewish values guide the Clubhouse’s programming, people of all faiths are welcome to attend meetings.  

The program is intended for older individuals, but participants’ children, caregivers, and, of course, volunteers like Danz frequent the events.  

From left to right, volunteers Alan Turner, Fred Stein and Diana Turner, cleaning up after a Clubhouse lunch. Photos by Rob Golub.

And as it turns out, Clubhouse volunteers don’t only help out for the joy of plating food and checking folks in. Many of them find great value and irreplaceable connections through their work. “It’s a wonderful camaraderie between the volunteers and the participants,” Danz said. “It’s like one big, happy family.” 

Keep reading for a few anecdotes from the Clubhouse volunteer mishpacha. 

 

New love in unexpected places 

Volunteer Jordy Attinsky’s wife, Merry Sosnay Attinsky, died in 2019.  

About six months later, Attinsky’s sister, Elayne Katz, encouraged him to attend a Clubhouse event. She was concerned about his lack of opportunities for connection. Katz had attended Clubhouse events before. 

That day, Attinsky just happened to sit next to Lilyan Zarem, who had been a volunteer at the Milwaukee Zoo for over 40 years.  

A flash of recognition washed over Attinsky. “On my first date with [Merry], the first personal question I asked was ‘Do you like animals?’” he recounted. “I liked her, but I wouldn’t date her anymore unless she liked animals. And she said that she had a dog, a cat, a rat, and a mouse–and we had a wonderful life together.” 

Clubhouse Chair Judy Winnik, right, and Bob Markey at a Clubhouse event last month.

Attinsky didn’t ask Zarem out right away, but when he did, he knew that his number one question didn’t need to be asked. It was a given. 

Just months after the couple’s meeting, the Clubhouse was shut down due to COVID-19 precautions. “We had nothing else, nobody else to see, and we just ended up seeing each other,” Attinsky said. “So really, Clubhouse did the thing.” 

Attinsky started as a Clubhouse participant. But when Chair Judy Winnik saw his interest and connection to the program, she encouraged him to volunteer. Katz and Zarem are now also volunteers. 

 

Friendships that last the test of time 

When DeeDee Gelin’s daughter was 1, the two were frequent visitors to a small park near their house. 

They would sit in the sandbox and play together. But one day, their routine was interrupted. A woman came along and sat down.  

“She was probably a little younger than me,” said Gelin, who was in her late 20s at the time. “She sat down in the sandbox, and we had a really lovely conversation.” When the woman left, Gelin realized that she had never learned her name.

Volunteer Coordinator Jeri Danz and Doug Mandel, vice-president and treasurer, cleaned up after a Clubhouse session for older adults last month.

Sixty years later, Gelin was volunteering at the Clubhouse when she spotted a familiar face. The black hair that she remembered so well had turned white, but the face was unmistakable. 

“She pointed at me, and I pointed at her, and we simultaneously said, ‘The sandbox!’” Gelin recalled. “We’ve been friends ever since.” 

For those 60 years, Gelin and the mystery woman, whose name is Deanna Spanjar, never laid eyes on one another. However, without knowing, their lives were taking parallel paths. Both women became teachers. 

And thanks to the Clubhouse, they were able to reunite. 

 

Two cents and a spice for life 

One night, Susie Lubar received a letter.  

Her visiting granddaughter, Bradyn, about 8-years-old at the time, found it, skimmed it, then sprang into action.  

She rushed into the kitchen and opened the spice drawer, Lubar said. Finding what she was looking for, she dug two pennies out of her grandmother’s purse. 

Lubar was confused at first, but quickly understood. Bring your two cents and a spice for life, the letter read. It was requesting her to discuss the potential for a social group for the elderly Jewish community in Milwaukee. 

Bradyn looked at her expectantly. “What are you going to do?” Lubar recalls her asking.  

Lubar responded, “I know I’ll do it because it’s helping the elderly, and someday I’ll be elderly.”  

“Good, you better,” Bradyn said. 

Bradyn is turning 21 this year, and Susie Lubar has been involved with the Clubhouse since.