Saul Mendelson was the person everyone turned to: for an arcane reference in Polish left-wing politics of the 1930's, for a textbook on Chilean history, for his view of who would be the best candidate for committeeman in the 44th ward (or the Bosnian presidency), for how to deal with tyrannical administrators while preserving the power of the union. He was that rare combination: a man of action and of learning, with unshakable intellectual clarity and integrity.As a friend, he could provide support and guidance along with trenchant wit and comic relief. I remember the joke he told about the two Jewish women in New York discussing the Pope's "economical" (ecumenical) statements freeing the Jews of responsibility for killing Christ. The more befuddled one upon learning of this news burst out, "Well, who did it then -- the Puerto Ricans?"
The bond with Jenny was so much a part of his persona that it is hard to imagine the one without the other. Whether they were talking of the "old days" in Paris, the perceived dangers of air travel, or the vicissitudes of the CCCTU, IVI, ADA and other alphabet soup, what always came through as the "subtext" was their mutual love and respect.
In his last days, mercifully brief, Saul showed the most remarkable stoical courage and dignity. I won't forget that he expended precious energy to thank me just for helping to move him in his bed or give him a sip of water. And that moment when, already in and out of consciousness, he took the New York Times from my hands and found the passage that I had failed to locate - even though his vision had dimmed so that he could not read it himself.