38 | NOVEMBER 19 • 2020 

ARTS&LIFE
ON THE COVER

continued on page 40

A LOVE AFFAIR 
WITH COCAINE
The first time Mort tried 
cocaine was with Rod Stewart 
and Ronnie Wood in a bath-
room when he was a concert 
promoter. He didn’
t like it. Five 
year later, in Chicago, he tried 
it again and fell in love with the 
white powder. 
For the next eight years, 
cocaine played a big part in 
Mort’
s life. He both loved it and 
hated it. “I would lie to myself. 
Lying in bed at 3 a.m. with my 
heart pounding, I did a lot of 
foxhole praying. I’
d say, ‘
God, 
if you don’
t let me die, I’
ll start 

going to synagogue. If you let 
me live, I’
ll stop.
’
 And it worked 
until 5 p.m. the next day and 
then it didn’
t work. Again and 
again for eight years.
”
On Oct. 19, 1989, Mort 
thought he was having a heart 
attack. “But I wasn’
t,
” he said. 
He was admitted in the hospi-
tal for observation. His doctor 
told him he needed long-term 
treatment. His best friend, who 
flew up from Texas, said, “He 
just needs to get honest. And he 
needs to get God.
” 
“I never did a line since. That 
was 31 years ago.
”
Over the years, he’
s gone to 

12-step meetings, many of them 
Jewish. “I found that addiction 
is not more common or less 
common to any religion. I feel 
if I can quit, anyone can quit. I 
hope my tale of drug use and 
abstinence tells someone out 
there that they can quit, too.
”

A BAR MITZVAH 
TO FORGET
One thing Mort doesn’
t write 
much about in the book is his 
Jewish journey, so he agreed to 
sit down with the JN to discuss 
how he feels about his faith.
His story starts in the 
south part of Oak Park called 

“Cardboard Village,
” where he 
grew up. “Crappy, asbestos-shin-
gled 800-square-foot homes,
” he 
said. “Living there took a bad 
childhood and made it worse.
”
Jeffrey Seller, producer of the 
Broadway smash Hamilton, also 
grew up in Cardboard Village. 
He told DBusiness he “was 
ashamed and humiliated to live 
there, and to even discuss it 
now is painful, actually.
”
For Mort, it meant being 
ostracized by many of his peers. 
“I wasn’
t invited to anyone’
s bar 
mitzvah,
” he said. “One kid told 
me I wasn’
t invited because his 
mom and dad said they don’
t 
associate with people from 
Cardboard Village. I ran into 
that a lot.
”
Mort’
s childhood memories 
are clouded by poverty — his 
family was evicted numerous 
times, including Thanksgiving 
of 1963 — and a dysfunctional 
family led by a father with anger 
management issues. Although 
his mother went to shul, his 
dad rarely did. “You had to buy 
tickets, and my father refused,
” 
Mort said. “He said he could 
barely put food on the table. I 
remember him saying, ‘
I can 
pray in a goddam latrine. I don’
t 
need to pay to go.
’
”
Nevertheless, Mort had his 
bar mitzvah in 1966 at B’
nai 
Moshe, a spiritual home for 

I HOPE MY TALE OF DRUG USE 
AND ABSTINENCE TELLS 
SOMEONE OUT THERE THAT 
THEY CAN QUIT, TOO.

— MORT MEISNER

TOP: “Morty”’s bar mitzvah lunch, 1966, with brother Tony and his wife 
Marian, and cousin Pat Small. BOTTOM LEFT: Cousin Alfred Deutsch 
with Great-Uncle Adolph Deutsch, who put Mort through college. RIGHT: 
Mort’s parents, Ella and Morris Meisner, outside their Oak Park home. 

COURTESY OF MORT MEISNER

MORT MEISNER continued from page 36

M

