THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS well as the glass-encased Adademy Award he received for co-producing "Genocide," voted the Best Documentary Feature at the 1982 ceremonies — surely the first rabbi to win an Oscar. "Marvin is half yeshiva, half Disneyland," says one ad- mirer. "He's fascinated with pinball machines and he reminds me of a human pinball, careening from one extreme to the other with lights flashing and bells ringing." An intense, sharp-featured man, Rabbi Hier is, in man- ner and style, pure New York. He is quick-tongued, disar- mingly forthright and outspoken. (Of the many people in- terviewed for this article, he was the only one whose every comment was "on the record?) Rabbi Hier feels he has nothing to hide. He has ac- complished a great deal in a short time, far beyond even his own fertile imagination, and he is proud of what he has done. He is aware of it all, the praise from world figures and the criticism from Jewish professionals and academics — much of it muted and behind his back. He is, he says, a man of action and he does not worry about his critics. "They're jealous," he says. "We're Orthodox, we're mavericks and we're successful." The multi-million dollar Wiesenthal Center began as a modest plan for a yeshiva in Los Angeles. Rabbi Hier was in Israel with his family in 1976, on sabbatical from his Or- thodox pulpit in Vancouver, British Columbia, where he had served for 16 years. He was growing bored with the rab- binate, and wanted to become more involved in education. "I was intrigued by Los Angeles," he recalled. "Such a large, wealthy Jewish community but a place where Orthodox Judaism hadn't come of age, hadn't even scratched the sur- face. My dream was to build a yeshiva there." Not that his would be the first. Yeshiva University, the New York-based Orthodox institution, had launched a West Coast branch, based in Los Angeles, but it failed. "An L.A. institution couldn't be run from New York," Rabbi Hier concluded. Upon his return to Vancouver, he won the financial sup- port of his most illustrious congregant, Samuel Belzberg, who along with his brothers heads up major financial cor- porations in Vancouver and Beverly Hills, making them one of the wealthiest Jewish families in North America. Samuel Belzberg gave Rabbi her $500,000 and told him to go to Los Angeles and buy a piece of property for his proposed yeshiva. "I was a complete novice," says Rabbi Hier. "I'd never even been involved in buying my own house." But within 10 days he had visited Los Angeles and put $200,000 down on a $900,000 vacant building which is now the site of the Wiesenthal Center complex. He planned to open a high school as well as post-high school yeshiva program for students who would divide their time between 'Almud classes and college studies at one of several local universities. Rabbi Hier met with Dr. Norman Lamm, president of Yeshiva University in New York, and worked out an arrange- ment whereby the new Los Angeles institution would be called Yeshiva University of Los Angeles (YULA) but would be financially independent. "The only affiliation is educa- tional," explains Rabbi Hier, "in accordance with the Yeshiva University motto of Ibrah U'Madah (or Ibrah and secular studies). But there are no financial ties and we have our own board of trustees." YULA opened in the fall of 1977 with 20 post-high school yeshiva students. Seven years later there were some 240 high school students, 65 post-high school students and an outreach program that had an impact on thousands of people. An Unlikely Marriage In Vienna "Simon wanted a vibrant center. He wanted action. So did we." Rabbi Hier The concept of a Holocaust museum came to Rabbi flier, he says, in August,1977, just before his new school open- ed. "I was having my Shabos chulent (a meat stew) and telling a friend at the dinner table what a shame it is that there is no equivalent of a Yad Vashem (Israel's National Holocaust Museum) in the United States. I realized that it will never happen unless we do it ourselves. I decided, let's do it, and then worry about the criticism." Four days later Rabbi her was on a plane to Vienna along with Samuel Belzberg's wife, Frances, and Roland Arnell, an early supporter, to meet with Simon Wiesen- thal and propose the concept of a Holocaust center to be named after the famed Nazi hunter. Rabbi Hier had met Wiesenthal twice before in Vienna during visits the rabbi had made to Nazi concentration camp sites. He felt that Wiesenthal had the stature to give his proposed center the influence and respect it needed. Wiesenthal thought the Americans had come to offer him an honorary degree. "We ended up talking for four straight days," Rabbi Hier said. "Simon told us his sad tale of how since 1946 he had hoped to create a Holocaust institute in the United States. He was insistent that any institution to which he lent his name would have to be `more than just photos on a wall — walls as silent as graves,' " Rabbi Hier recalled. "Simon told us that too many institutions collected Holocaust information and then, in his words, 'put it in the freezer.' He wanted a vibrant center, not afraid to speak out on current issues. He wasn't worried about the Jewish establishment or quiet diplomacy. He- wanted action. So did we." And so an unlikely marriage was made in Vienna be- tween Simon Wiesenthal, a secular, non-Zionist Jew who devoted his life to the pursuit of Nazi criminals, and Mar- vin Hier, an Orthodox Zionist who had spent his career as a pulpit rabbi. Wiesenthal agreed to lend his name and expertise to the new center and to donate his vast collection of Nazi- hunting files to the center upon his death. Rabbi her Friday, October 12, 1984 The other Holocaust museum in Los Angeles, known as the Martyrs Memorial and Museum, was found- ed by survivors and is located on the top floor of the Federa- tion building. 17