Jewish leadership turns out for Steve Weening’s memorial

By Donald H. Harrison

Donald H. Harrison

SAN DIEGO – Some of the top leadership of the organized Jewish community of San Diego turned out for a service to memorialize Steven Weening, 64, and to comfort his wife, Leslie, who had been a long-serving executive assistant to
the director of the Jewish Federation of San Diego County, and other family members.

Weening, who had endured the effects of diabetes and multiple mini-strokes for  17 years, including the amputation of a leg, died Saturday morning, July 9, after being taken at his request to Scripp’s Mercy Hospital from his home in Santee.  He lost consciousness en route and at the hospital went twice into cardiac arrest.  Besides by Leslie, he is survived by daughter Lisa Kolinsky of West Hills, Calif., son Seth, son-in-law Darren, and granddaughters Jenna and Hayley Kolinsky, respectively 14 and 12.  Having served as an Air Force enlisted man during the Vietnam War, Weening was buried in a military ceremony at the Miramar National Cemetery.

Among approximately 80 persons attending the Wednesday afternoon memorial in the social hall of Tifereth Israel Synagogue were Jill Borg Spitzer, executive director of Jewish Family Service; Michael Sonduck, chief operating officer of the Jewish Federation of San Diego County along with other ranking  Federation staff members; Jim Farley, president of the Leichtag Family Foundation, Charlene Seidle, associate director of the Jewish Community Foundation, and community chaplain Rabbi Ralph Dalin.  Many of these leaders had worked closely with Leslie during her nearly three decades at the Federation.

The memorial was officiated by Rabbi Scott Meltzer of Ohr Shalom Synagogue, who substituted for Rabbi Leonard Rosenthal of Tifereth Israel Synagogue.   Rosenthal, studying in Israel, sent a lengthy message of condolence, which Meltzer read to the assembled mourners.  Meltzer, himself, had a close connection to the family, having dated Lisa when they were both youngsters, although both went on to marry other people.

Weening, son of Samuel and Ethel Weening, grew up in East San Diego and in Lemon Grove, where his home was within walking distance of Miller’s Dairy, a now disappeared landmark.  Having learned to bake at home, he often would trade a loaf for a pound of butter from his neighbors.  On the family’s large lot, a tangerine and lemon tree grew – but despite the city’s name, Weening, always blunt spoken, said the lemons “couldn’t compare” with those as “big as grapefruits” grown in East San Diego. A mischievous teen, he and his brother, Dave, and cousin Danny, would stick firecrackers into the lemons and try to turn them into lemon juice.   One time, however, a lemon blew up in one of the boys’ hands, teaching a valuable lesson.

On the occasion of Weening’s bar mitzvah at Beth Jacob Synagogue, he so relished leading the service that he sternly asked the rabbi to please stop
interrupting him while he was talking.

After he was old enough to drive, Weening was fond of going to the Ace Drive-In movie in Lemon Grove, which charged only $1 per car.  Weening tried to pack his car with as many movie-going teenage girls as possible.  He told San Diego Jewish World that on one occasion he was able
to get 12 girls into his car for a memorable date.

While proudly remembering his own dating exploits, Weening was on the other end of the equation when his daughter, Lisa, began dating.  Meltzer remembered a year in which he and Lisa dated, and said meeting Weening, a large man, with a gruff voice, and a hard stare, was enough to convince him to be sure to bring Lisa home on time every time.   “He shook my hand as he intended to keep it!” Meltzer recalled.

But despite Weening’s imposing demeanor, said Meltzer, if you looked into his eyes, you would see a twinkle.

In a telegram from Jerusalem, Rabbi Rosenthal described Weening as a man with a generous heart, who was ready to talk about any topic.  Rosenthal wrote he still can remember a time when a non-Jewish visitor came to the synagogue, and Weening showed her the Holy Ark and explained the basics of Judaism.  And when Weening’s own son, Seth, had a bar mitzvah, Weening was “never more proud.”

Seth said his father was fond of telling jokes, not minding if they were the same ones he had told before.  He had a glare that could get anyone’s attention.  But there was another side to him as well – the day, for example, in elementary school when Seth was supposed to tell about what his daddy did, and Weening brought to school the bus was driving.  He also taught Seth to barbecue, coached him at baseball, and, for better or worse, taught him his sense of humor.  Son-in-law Darren said two words described him: “confident” and “opinionated” – prompting chuckles of agreement from the audience.  Darren added that when you get a wife, you get parents as well, and at first you accept it, “and then you learn to appreciate it.”

Jenna in written comments recalled the time in public that her grandfather had without embarrassment unbuckled his prosthetic leg, sat down in a wheel chair, and asked Jenna to carry the limb, with the shoe and sock still on it.  She said Weening taught her not to be intimidated by other people’s opinions, but to do what she thought was right.   Hayley said one of her strongest memories was sitting in her father’s wheelchair, wanting to play with the
controls but fearing to break the device.

After the eulogies, Meltzer told attendees of the service that comforting the family was a mitzvah Jewish law obligated them to perform.  He instructed all the attendees to leave their seats and to stand in front of family members, who remained seated in the front row, so that the family could know how appreciated by the community they really were.  Then, the rabbi had the attendees form two columns for the family to pass in between.

Watching the family file through the ranks, turning first here and then there in acknowledgment,  and reacting to the expressions of sorrow on everyone’s face,  was an impactful experience.  “It shows how much of  a community we really are,” whispered one person, standing near me.

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Harrison is editor of San Diego Jewish World.  He may be contacted at donald.harrison@sdjewishworld.com