Marshal M. Stein, age 82

Marshal M. Stein, age 82.

Loving husband of Judith nee Kalmus. Beloved father of Giel (Regina) Stein and Eric (Polina) Stein. Proud grandfather of Naava, Brielle, Eliana, and Orli.

Marshal Melvin Stein wore the attribute “old school” well. Marshal’s 53-year marriage to his surviving wife Judith, his service in the American and Israeli armies, and his work as a clinical psychologist epitomized his loyalty, bravery, and intelligence. A loving husband, father, and grandfather, Marshal fought through a heart attack on Tuesday evening as he and Judith drove home. Once he safely parked the car, Marshal succumbed. He was 82 years old.
A former athlete who excelled at every sport from football to golf, Marshal loved the Cubs and the Bears, science fiction movies (Star Wars above all others), and woodworking. A French master shipbuilder taught Marshal the art of craftsmanship. Decades later, in old age, Marshal’s hands were still those of a carpenter: powerful, steady, and capable of great tenderness. Those hands raised two sons into men who then became fathers. Those hands came to embrace two daughters-in-law and then four granddaughters who quickly put Marshal to work on doll houses, cribs, and closets for their dresses. “These are my favorite projects,” he said.
Marshal was born in Chicago to Molly and Jerome Stein. By age 10 he regularly rode the bus to Wrigley Field for games, watched over by the drivers who saw “Marsh” so frequently. Little kids could safely take such adventures in those days. After he graduated from Van Steuben High School, Marshal earned a bachelor’s degree from Roosevelt University and a Master’s in psychology from Northeastern Illinois University. But the call of the road postponed his mental health career’s commencement. After serving in the American Army, Marshall traveled the world for several years. He worked just long enough in each stop along his way to earn money for the next leg of his trip. Marshal shoveled coal on steam ships, drove big-rig trucks, taught English and dancing in foreign lands, and fished on commercial boats.
In 1962, while on a pub break from his workday on the Sea of Galilei where Syrian soldiers would shoot at his boat, Marshal noticed a female Israeli soldier light a cigarette. His eye would never wander again. After a two-year long-distance relationship that followed Marshal’s return to Chicago, Judith joined him. They had their first son, Giel, in 1972 and their second son, Eric, in 1977. Marshal and Judith moved back to Israel later that year, to be close to Judith’s family. They settled on a Kibbutz farming community just a stone’s throw from the border with Lebanon. Unfortunately, over the next 11 years, stones were not the only objects that crossed the border. Marshal saw combat close to home and in Lebanon. When the bombs hit nearby as he and the boys ran to the shelter one night, Marshal threw himself over his sons – ready to make the sacrifice that would ensure their safety. He was like that.
In 1987, Marshal moved the family back to Chicago. Returning from a commune that prohibited private property or compensation, Marshal could not afford the studies need to renew his psychology license. He spent the next 19 years working in parking garages. It was a difficult stretch. Marshal lived his intellectual life vicariously through his sons’ education. Increasingly long and enriching conversations about philosophy, science, sociology, law, and psychology (of course) sustained Marshal’s thirst for knowledge and deepened his bond with the boys.
In retirement, Marshal formed warm friendships with the auto mechanic down the street, the neighbor three doors down, the “old guys” at Home Depot and Menards, and his physician who eventually moved to Israel when retirement graced his later years. But no review of Marshal’s life would be complete without mentioning his friends Jay Lazar, Fred Helbraun, and his best friend Leon Rubin. Stories about the “good times with Leon” were commonly heard in the Stein home. Even during periods of physical separation, and after Leon moved to a warmer weather state, Marshal spoke of his brotherhood with Leon.
The profound sadness that Marshal’s granddaughters (ages 6-12) have expressed since his passing, commingled with their heartbreaking youthful realizations of mortality and questions about whether “grandpa will be cold in the cemetery,” attest to Marshal’s impact on them. He had an exceptional way with children. In his classically trained psychotherapeutic manner, Marshal often kneeled when he spoke to our girls. He effortlessly and frequently asked them turn-key questions that opened the doors to their worlds and sparked the most precious exchanges. Grandpa was a fountain of knowledge, reassurance, and understanding. He was also fun. He raced the girls around the house in Daddy’s office chair, read stories in funny voices, served overly generous portions of ice cream, and watched Cinderella for the 27th time with undiminished enthusiasm as the girls’ narrated every scene.
Marshal Stein has passed, but those who want to glimpse his spirit need only look at how his sons father their children and at the enormity of his wife’s loss. We will miss him every day as we strive to reflect his best qualities in our own lives.

Service Friday 9AM at Chicago Jewish Funerals, 8851 Skokie Blvd. (at Niles Center Road) Skokie. Interment Shalom Memorial Park (Section XI Hebron). In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to American Veterans 4647 Forbes Boulevard Lanham, Maryland 20706, www.amvets.org To attend the funeral live stream, please visit our website. Arrangements by Chicago Jewish Funerals - Skokie Chapel, 847.229.8822, www.cjfinfo.com