1Y1 1 PT'ZVA.
1-1 1E Fe CI 1ES
"For some who have died, he is their only mourner."
touched theirs.
"For some of these forgotten
Jews of Detroit, he is their only
visitor. For some who have died.,
he is their only mourner."
On one occasion, he recited
{Kaddish} for a client who had
no other friends or family. For
another, he interceded with
Jewish agencies and public au-
thorities to insure that the in-
digent man had a Jewish burial.
Mr. Singer began his volun-
teer efforts by tutoring students
in the Royal Oak and Southfield
schools. For several years, he
gave remedial and enrichment
lessons in science and mathe-
matics.
But he felt an obligation to
the Jewish community, which
led him to Project Outreach,
Meals on Wheels and other pro-
grams.
A native of Vienna, Austria,
Mr. Singer and his parents fled
to Belgium in 1939. With the
start of World War II, he was
saved from being sent to a Nazi
concentration camp by the Bel-
gian Jewish community, which
established an internment camp
for Jewish refugees. He man-
aged to get to New York in 1939
and live with an aunt, while his
parents went into hiding in
France.
Mr. Singer volunteered for
the U.S. Army, was sent back to
Europe and won the Bronze
Star during the Battle of the
Bulge. He also found his parents
alive in 1945.
Despite bypass surgery in No-
vember and removal of a can-
cerous kidney in December, Mr.
Singer has slowly resumed his
volunteer efforts. He is back to
seeing his inner-city Jewish
clients twice monthly and is
awaiting approval from his car-
diologist and urologist to return
to Meals On Wheels.
"Right now, they don't want
me to shlep heavy containers,"
he says. With his wife Doris' per-
mission, he'd like to rejoin Meals
On Wheels partner Hannah
Foreman.
"When the snow was flying
and others were in Florida, we
showed up" to deliver food to 10-
12 clients.
Mr. Singer sees a desperate
need for volunteers and funds
to help Detroit's needy Jews.
"There are an estimated 125-
130 still in the inner city," he
says. "Somebody has to take
care of them."
He is angered when he asks
others to help.
"Where are the other men?"
he asks. "Most of the volunteers
are women. The men are just
sitting around playing cards.
"Sometimes I'll ask people for
clothes. 'You're the right size,'
I'll say. 'Do you have any old
shirts or slacks at home that I
can give to my client?' People
won't give anything, but I get
a great deal of sympathy.
"No one has ever said to me,
`Next time you go, call me. m go
with you.' "
❑
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
69