Remembering Alvin Kass, Conscience of the NYPD

At 89, Alvin Kass was still walking three to five miles every morning and showing up for work every day. With close to 60 years of service with the NYPD under his belt, he had no intention of slowing down. On Wednesday, though, New York City mourned the passing of this seemingly unstoppable man.

Kass, who held the honorific trifecta of chief, doctor, and rabbi, was the NYPD’s chief chaplain and longest-serving member. After serving in the U.S. Air Force, he joined the department in 1966, becoming its youngest chaplain at 30. He worked his way up to chief chaplain, guiding and comforting members of all faiths and ranks.

For 59 years, he never stopped. Even when he began needing a walker for mobility several weeks ago, he still got himself around to remote parts of the city—or anywhere else he was needed.

Nearly six decades of service makes for plenty of stories. There was the time in 1981, for example, when he negotiated with a Jewish man who had taken a woman hostage and traded two Carnegie Deli pastrami sandwiches for the perpetrator’s two guns. Or the time he left his son’s bar mitzvah in a police car because an officer had been shot.

Then came September 11, 2001. While police chaplains may not come to mind first when we remember the heroism of that day, their service was nothing short of essential. In addition to offering a shoulder to cry on (including for “probably the largest officer I had ever seen”), Rabbi Kass attended every slain NYPD officer’s funeral and conducted two funerals for Jewish officers who had given their lives to save others.

Days after the attack, on Rosh Hashana, Kass left his own congregation in Brooklyn with a shofar and a cantor in tow. He headed to a hotel near La Guardia airport to conduct services for first responders, many of whom took a break from recovery efforts to commemorate the holiday. He called that day the most meaningful Rosh Hashanah service of his career.

Lt. Ben Gelber, president of the Shomrim Society, a fraternal organization for Jewish members of the NYPD, believes that Rabbi Kass would want to be remembered as a man who woke up every day with purpose and the thought of how he could help others. “He was a man of God, and a man of people. He legitimately cared about you, regardless of your faith or rank,” Gelber said. “Whether you needed 10 minutes or two hours, he’d be there. He always said he would learn something from everyone, even a rookie. He was never done learning.”

In the face of rising anti-Semitism, Rabbi Kass often urged concerned Jewish New Yorkers and officers to be proud of who they are. He wore his NYPD yarmulke proudly and advised others to do the same, even if they were scared.

He never allowed religion to be a barrier in connecting with police. In an overwhelmingly Christian department, Rabbi Kass liked to say that he held the record for most Catholic Masses attended by a rabbi. He even declared that the best bagels and lox he had every year was at the Holy Name Society breakfast. “All of the Catholics sitting around me look longingly at my lox,” he said with a smile in a video commemorating his 50 years of service.

“I was blessed to know him,” said Detective Mohamed Amen, a Muslim senior advisor to the mayor, “from lighting the menorah by his side to sharing Ramadan Iftars. He embodied unity, respect and love for all.” Detective Amen took note to add the traditional Jewish blessing for the departed: “May his memory be a blessing.”

Retired Deputy Inspector Jamiel Altaheri told me he thinks of Rabbi Kass as “his Muslim Rabbi.” He looked to him for moral guidance and will never forget his role in helping the NYPD Muslim Society gain recognition as an official fraternal organization, back when only a few Muslim officers were on the job. “He was there from day one and we’ll never forget his legacy. He wasn’t just a leader for the Jewish community; he was there for everyone.”

In our current polarized political environment, it’s easy to look at figures who embody unity and virtue, like Rabbi Kass, as relics. But speak to any officer, and a more hopeful picture emerges. When I asked Lt. Gelber about relationships between Muslims and Jewish officers, he shrugged. “What’s important is that I back you up and you back me up,” he said. “I don’t care about your politics.”

Lt. Gelber tries to embody the lessons of Rabbi Kass every day. When recently he encountered an Orthodox Jewish prisoner, he phoned the local synagogue to make sure that the person in his custody would be able to trade in the standard Central Booking peanut butter and jelly sandwich for a kosher meal. When a Muslim prisoner noticed and accused him of playing favorites, Lt. Gelber opened his phone, typed in “Halal near me,” and went out to get the stunned man a meal of his own. “I just asked myself what Rabbi Kass would do.”

Top Photo by Michael Brochstein/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images