They are us.

Robert Blau put smiles on kids—for the toys he sold, and grins on CEOs—for their bottom lines.

Robert worked hard selling Raggedy Ann and Andy, Curious George, and The Cabbage Patch Kids. He moved into video games under Nintendo and became head of sales for Take-Two Interactive, the most prominent New York-based video game maker. There, he worked to launch Grand Theft Auto and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Blau’s field was business, and he was successful at it. He said, “I loved every minute of what I was doing; it was stressful because people were always questioning what we did and didn’t do enough. It wasn’t easy. I would sell a million of a product—we needed to sell two million.”

So, in 2010, he had enough of the private marketing business and retired.

But not really.

Robert’s second gear kicked in. He felt he needed to give back.

I’ve read recently in Strength to Strength (Arthur C Brooks) where he spoke of psychologist Raymond Cattell’s findings that we have two forms of intelligence.

First is fluid intelligence, in which, early in life, we reason, think flexibly, and solve novel problems; we commonly think of it as raw smarts—fluid intelligence ebbs to varying degrees according to one’s occupation. Air Traffic Controllers must retire at the age of fifty-six. As we age, we can’t maintain the same level of fluid intelligence; we are not as intellectually nimble.

Yes, I know, sad

But fear not.

The second is crystallized intelligence, which uses the “library” of intelligence we gathered as knowledge and wisdom in our lifetimes. Brooks said, “If you can repurpose your professional life to rely more on crystallized intelligence,” thereby going from fluid to crystallized, “you have cracked the code. You can be very successful later in life.” Johann Sebastian Bach was an example.

I think Robert Blau is one—as are many of you—who have cracked the code.

“The value of a man should be seen in what he gives and not in what he is able to receive.” Albert Einstein

As I entered the Long Beach Soup Kitchen, I noted its crisp cleanliness and efficiency. Robert’s high standards include maintaining a clean and efficient environment in which people can serve others.

Robert Blau’s business experience serves him well. He started by responding to the catastrophic earthquake that hit the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere, Haiti. He joined a New Zealand group there. He said, “I paid my way to get there; I gave them a donation. It was my first endeavor to help those in need; it was eye-opening.”

As I spoke with Robert, I detected a fire in his belly; he never spoke of it; often, people so empowered don’t, but one can sense it in their eyes— and especially in their voices.

Robert said when he returned from Haiti, he needed to do more. He’s lived in Long Beach for sixty-nine years. His wife, Joyce, had volunteered in the Long Beach Soup Kitchen before and she said, “Go to the soup kitchen and see if they need help.”

So, in 2011, Robert volunteered at the Long Beach Soup Kitchen; he became their Tuesday cook. He now runs the Kitchen, but he’s still a volunteer. The soup kitchen has 40 active volunteers and about 20 backups.

Before COVID-19, the Kitchen served meals inside, but they started their to-go meals when the virus hit. It worked so well that they continued the to-go operation.

Robert said a small group of volunteers do the most work. “We have no paid employees; every cent donated goes to the soup kitchen. My satisfaction is that we are running effectively and have the money to run effectively.”

The Kitchen serves about eighty to a hundred people daily—15,000 annually. Robert says there are not many homeless in Long Beach, but there are some food-insufficient people who are on Social Security or got laid off for six weeks and have to stretch their money. He said, “People must decide ‘do I pay rent, buy something for dinner, or pay a utility bill.’ That’s where I think we are helping out.”

About twenty-five years ago, the soup kitchen had no fixed base; it operated out of St. Mary’s church, then The Martin Luther King Center.

But an upscale Long Beach restaurant on this site, The Kitchen On Pine St, or TKOPS, closed.

Lenny Remo, a Long Beach City Councilman, operated that restaurant. Upon his move to Florida, Mr. Remo gifted the site to the city of Long Beach. Very cool and compassionate guy, this Remo. Compassionate city, too.

But when Rober Blau took over the building, he said there was no stove; cooking consisted of a microwave, electric fry pans, and steamer pots.

One day before Thanksgiving, Allen Schwartz of Laurel Cleaners called and said he had turkeys to donate. Allen is also a model of compassion in Long Beach; see this LI Herald piece. When Robert told Schwartz he had no oven to cook turkeys, Robert said, Schwartz “hooked us up with Fire Command of Long Beach and the Long Beach Lions Club. They gave us a four-burner stove and an oven.”

Robert said, “Now we were cooking with fire.”

But as happens in life, fires can burn bright and warm—but then they’re doused.

The dousing came in the form of Hurricane Sandy. The Soup Kitchen lost the stove, the oven—and the refrigerators.

Riding atop the Lion’s mane once again, Allen Schwartz came to the rescue. The Long Beach Lions donated $50,000 for new sheetrock, a new floor, a ten-burner stove, a stainless steel countertop, and a walk-in freezer. Robert said, “We couldn’t do what we do today without help like this.”

The Soup Kitchen never distributes expired foodstuffs. If Trader Joe’s gets delivery of Romaine lettuce but still has fresh Romaine, they will replace and donate the still non-expired produce. They too have high standards and they are consistent in their donations

Petro Oil. donated the van the soup kitchen uses for pick-ups. It may have a lot of miles on it, Robert said, but Petro gives them another one when the one they have can’t do the job anymore.

About nine years ago, the Kitchen changed from being under the Interfaith Nutrition Network to their own non-profit. They changed too, Robert said, “from styrofoam and plastics—materials that were never going to break down—to biodegradable products. We were going to be more Earth-friendly.”

Wow! Can we ask any more form this soup kitchen—or this man?

Robert said, “When we went to all recycled paper, trays and cups we found it costs about four times the price of “traditional” paper, plastic and styrofoam products. He said, “This is our single biggest expense.”

I asked about donors finding a source where they might cost less. Robert said he buys these units from a distributor in Hempstead, NY; they are not easy to find elsewhere. He said, “You can’t go to Costco, you have to go to a distributor.” He said, “You have to know the right sizes. Listen, we’d be very happy to give anybody a sample of what we use and to go find it and purchase it for us, that would be amazing.” You can reach Robert Blau at 516-897-2763

Visiting guests are not required to fill out forms, nor are questions asked. Anyone can come. Robert said, “Every day, we serve two meals, a lunch meal of a sandwich, a juice box, a cookie or Danish, if we have it, or a piece of fruit if we have it.

Then, a hot meal, a protein, a carb, possibly a veggie, and possibly a salad and soup. So they go away with lunch and, if they want, dinner.” The Kitchen is closed on Sunday, so two lunches can be picked up on Saturday.

A few examples of the team.

Rob wasn’t the only one in that soup kitchen to have that inner glow, a burning need to help. I met more of them in this modest building where marvelous people worked.

I spoke with Maria Stenz, who works full-time as a T.V. filmmaker in Manhattan. She met Long Beach Soup Kitchen recruiter Larry Feldman about four years ago on our boardwalk. Maria’s been coming every Saturday since then.

I met volunteers Jon and Randi Polansky, who were making chicken salad sandwiches; they come to the soup kitchen one Saturday per month.

Randi works at Mill Neck Manor School for the Deaf. But she wanted to do something more. She started at the soup kitchen four years ago. She said I love it here; I love the guests who come; I love their smiles; they’re so grateful.”

Jon has deep admiration for his wife. He said, “Randi does so much to give back; she went back to school twelve years ago to learn sign language. Then she started working here, so I felt I also wanted to do something. I used to work for Moody’s Investment Services.” “Now,” he said, “I followed Randi’s lead, and I’m here with her. I see the big smile on Randi’s face in the happiness she brings to everyone else.” This couple go together like peanut butter and jelly.

Robert said they always need volunteer cooks to fill their rotation of cooking days. They need marketing help, too, such as flyer distribution, manning booths at fairs, etc. Spring is coming, and demand for marketing help will be up.

Nicole Rieger is the volunteer coordinator. She helps Robert keep the staffing ready and efficient. She’s the lady volunteers would speak with to join the Kitchen.

You may send monetary donations to Long Beach Soup Kitchen, P.O. Box 294, Long Beach, NY 11561. Nicole said you can visit the Soup Kitchen’s website, view it for days and hours of service, volunteer, or donate. One thing to remember: don’t send donations to the address of the Kitchen; they receive no mail there.

I met team members at Trader’s Joe’s recently. Volunteers, Larry Feldman and Tom O’Brien made a pick up with a Petro Oil donated van.

Larry worked at the Hearing Education Services of the NYC Dept of Education. Larry has been working at the Soup Kitchen for eight years. But he started volunteering at seventeen, helping veterans next door to the education program. Tom has been working at the soup kitchen since Covid. He’s a retired MTA diesel mechanic. He said he “wanted to do something good, to give back.” So he worked at St Mary’s in Long Beach for a year, then the Long Beach Soup Kitchen.

Larry said Trader Joe’s donates to different organizations daily, and the organizations work with each other, sharing what they have. All these reciprocal cogs of people and material work to form a magnificent compassion machine—a machine many of us don’t know exists.

There are more than 61,000 food pantries and soup kitchens in America serving forty six million people. Millions of Americans support them with time and cash. My deepest respect to them all.

But a better food safety net would be best for helping food-insecure Americans; that’s obvious. But we can’t wait for that delightful day to arrive.

So, the Long Beach Soup Kitchen model is a fantastic way for communities to put smiles on folks on both sides of a kitchen’s operation. It helps people make ends meet; it provides a way for people wanting to do something for others with an efficient avenue to do it

There is no payroll, no waste; 100% of every dollar goes to the cause. The Kitchen pays no rent and no utilities. Thanks to the City of Long Beach, NY, and Lenny Remo’s efforts.

I’m amazed at people like Robert Blau, who can volunteer six or seven days a week to help other Americans who have not done as well as many of us. He could easily have transferred his skills to a new, remunerative career. He could have many big, shiny things. But he chose a path where he brings the shine—and perhaps the light—for others to follow.

I’m awed by Rob’s volunteers who are willing to work for no pay. Their reward is a sense of fulfillment, a feeling of deep satisfaction. They can take that satisfaction long into their retirement and beyond. They are a model for their children and grandkids, which is so needed today on this troubled blue planet.

A model other appropriate communities might consider by:

• Allocating an asset, an unused building.
• Finding a retiree with a good background—and fire in his belly—to make a difference.
• Sounding the clarion call for like-minded citizens to pitch in. Good people, businesses, and organizations will respond; there are so many out there.

Robert Blau was named 2019’s person of the year by the L I Herald

You may have noticed that I often see the troubles of our globe as a failure to see the wholeness of humankind as we know the wholeness of our human bodies. Our hearts don’t send blood to the lungs and not the legs. There is a paradigm in the universe that we might do well to employ—to embrace.

I see the Long Beach Soup Kitchen as a beating heart. Love pours in from individuals, businesses, and brotherhoods in cash, material resources, and volunteer labor.

And it pumps out compassion, by way of nutrition, to grateful citizens—no matter their faith, their politics, or their skin color. They too, walk this planet—they too, are of the body of humankind. They are us.

Be well,

Leebythesea