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Fast Friends. Forever
Unlikely friendship helps "diamond in the rough" find his place in Judaism.
Bill Carroll I Contributing Writer
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1
ing for money' he says, "but suggesting they
try to lay tefillin or study Torah. We've been
successful in different ways with about 1,000
people like Alan."
Mendel is now director of the new $12
million Lubavitch Education Center in Oak
Park. "But more funds were then needed to
help the students and their families:' Mendel
explains. "Alan gave us close to a million dol-
lars:'
Alan adds: "If it'll help 100 kids study
Torah, I'll be happy'
Alan is one of those quiet philanthropists
in the community, assisting people in all
walks of life behind the scenes — for family
medical emergencies, employees in trouble,
educational programs and so on.
Alan, 75, has spent two days of his life so
far in a synagogue, his bar mitzvah and
wedding, and admits he "just doesn't fit the
Jewish mold. I guess I'm always looking for
confirmation that I'm a Jew:'
He looks and talks like a tough guy and
uses salty language.
Rabbi Mendel Shemtov visited Alan Ross'
business office more than five years ago on
his Chabad mission; they hit it off and have
been fast friends ever since. It's a unique rela-
tionship. Alan owns IFL (Industrial Freight
Liquidators) at Oakland County Airport in
Waterford, an aviation freight business that
grosses dose to $100 million a year.
They sit and talk to each other, or on the
phone, for many hours a week, although
Mendel laughs that he only talks "about 5
percent of the time:' Alan loves to tell stories,
and the stories are all interesting and humor-
ously depict his colorful life.
In their discussions, Alan often wonders to
Mendel, "Maybe I'm not really Jewish? Even
though I now believe in the Chabad move-
ment, I still resist attempts to make me more
Jewish."
He cites Yom Kippur a few years ago when
Mendel asked him to attend services, but "no
dice," responded Alan.
Alan's doubts about his Jewishness were
dispelled somewhat when the pair flew to
Toronto for a day to visit a famous rabbi, who
told Alan: "If your mother was Jewish, then
you're a Jew. And a Jew is already perfect just
by being a Jew. It's a basic thing that cannot
be corrupted."
Tap Into Jewishness
Mendel reiterates the mission of the "unique
and distinct" Chabad movement that cap-
tured Alan's attention five years ago: "Chabad
doesn't force Jewishness on anyone. Chabad
wants people to tap into their Jewishness.
"It's hard to believe, but, in our Chabad
outreach, we do not seek to transform people
into complete Jews:' Mendel says. "We just
want to bring out their core Jewishness. We
want to share something precious with them
and help ignite a spark of Judaism that's
already there, but just needs a little fuel."
Alan gets it. And the resulting passion just
oozes out of him.
"I've never discovered so much hostility
from other Jews toward Chabad," he says.
"The myth is that Chabad brainwashes Jews;
Chabad members only want to have babies,
10 August 2 • 2012
iN
A grizzly bear is among the assortment of taxidermed animals in Ross' office.
then beg for money"
Mendel winces, but lets Alan continue.
"Anti-Semitism isn't dead in this country;
its just taken on a new face. Chabad is doing
wonders throughout the world. I feel it will
help save Judaism in the future. I call Chabad
the touch of the Earth."
'A Fine Diamond'
When Mendel and Alan first met, the former
called the latter "a rough diamond:' but,
says Mendel, "now he's a fine diamond. Alan
thought he had no place in Judaism, but I
made him my personal development project
to show him otherwise. I hope I've inspired
him"
Mendel has been working on "develop-
ment projects" since age 18 when he and
others traveled the U.S. and Europe on
Chabad outreach, one time helping to re-
establish Judaism in an entire village in the
Ukraine. He and about 100 others have been
approaching Jews in business offices in the
Detroit area for the past 15 years, "not ask-
Unusual Office
That's not too bad for someone who came
from a family that had to borrow money for
the father's funeral.
"That's another long story,' warns Alan,
who's dressed in a T-shirt, shorts and sneak-
ers on a hot summer's day in an office replete
with a ferocious-looking stuffed grizzly bear
(Alan didn't shoot it), a nasty-looking stuffed
wolf and other animals, expensive paintings
and stained glass, and a life-size replica of
President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, com-
plete with a cigarette holder, in a wheelchair
(no, Alan says, he didn't vote for President
Obama).
Moving from Detroit's Dexter-Davison
area to the northwest side, Alan attended
Hampton Elementary School where he had a
fistaght "with anyone" every day after school.
"They were calling me 'dirty Jew' and I loved
to fight, so it worked out well," he quips.
Alan even beat up the son of then-Detroit
Mayor Edward J. Jeffries, who came to the
Ross home to protest, thinking that Alan's
bigger brother, Michael, did the beating.
Jeffries was dismayed to learn that Alan, age
8, had trounced his son, age 14. "And I never
even took boxing lessons," Alan says, beam-
ing.
Short Stint In California
Alan dropped out of Hebrew School after
three weeks, but a tutor in California some-
how managed to prepare him for his bar
mitzvah there. The family had moved to the
West Coast where Alan's father, Earl Ross,
opened a dry cleaning business.
"That didn't last long because everyone
wears blue jeans in California and there was
nothing to dean," Alan recalls, "so we moved