Rabbi Alvin Sugarman: ‘Be thou a blessing to every life you touch’

Walking into Atlanta’s historic synagogue, the Temple, on Sunday felt like entering a Looney Tunes episode.

An illuminated sign flashed: “That’s all folks!”

Those were the parting words Rabbi Alvin Marx Sugarman wanted to share with the world.

Sugarman, who served as the senior rabbi of the Temple from 1974 to 2008, died Jan. 17 at the age of 86. A service at the Temple two days later was filled with laughter and tears — just what Sugarman would have wanted.

The three songs performed during the service were undoubtedly selected by Sugarman: “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” “To Dream the Impossible Dream” and “What a Wonderful World.”

Peter Berg, who succeeded Sugarman as senior rabbi, presided over the service in a heartfelt tribute to his friend and mentor.

“Alvin Sugarman was a teacher, a guide, a beacon of light who touched each of our lives in profound ways,” Berg said. “We are here to celebrate the life of a man dedicated to a stronger, kinder community… His presence was a blessing that will be with us always.”

Berg recalled Sugarman telling him how difficult it had been for him to eulogize his predecessor, Rabbi Jacob Rothschild. Now it was Berg’s turn.
“We have lost the breathing heart and soul of our congregation,” Berg said. “His conviction was that there’s no higher calling than being present for people when they needed him most.”

Sugarman hired the first female rabbi in the South. Early on, he welcomed the LGBT community. He hosted an interfaith service for people suffering from AIDs. He founded a homeless shelter for couples. He played a major role in building the Black and Jewish coalition. He even appeared in the movie “Driving Miss Daisy,” and received royalties for his acting role.

“He befriended everyone,” Berg said. There was Sam the Plumber, an incarcerated member of the mob, who got to know Sugarman when the rabbi visited with inmates.

Sugarman had advice for wedding couples. “If they ever got into a fight, they should just take off all their clothes and see how long the fight would last,” Berg said.

The close relationship between Sugarman and Berg was readily apparent during the service. Sugarman told Berg he loved him as he would a son.

“I never once felt undermined and diminished. Alvin would always ask me for permission before contacting a member of the congregation,” said Berg, as an example of Sugarman’s thoughtfulness.  

“You can always lean on me,” Sugarman told Berg. “I leaned on Alvin often.”

They would sit side-by-side at the front of the synagogue, often talking to each other during a service — often about “who had to pee more.”

“Alvin had such a silly side to him,” Berg said. “He wanted to make people laugh.”

His two daughters, Lanie Kirsch and Leah Siegel, called him their “silly, loving dad,” referring to his desire to have his parting Facebook post to be: “That’s all folks!”

His grandchildren felt the same way. “We’ll remember how he made us feel, how he made us laugh and how he made us cry,” said Aaron Kirsch, a grandson.

Sugarman had a special “pinky wave” for his family and loved ones. He would rub the side of his face near his eye with his pinky finger — his “I love you” sign — while he would be leading the congregation.

Berg said Sugarman had a rather straightforward relationship with God, believing that “God created the world, and now the world is in our hands.”

Sugarman’s world was the Temple, the community and his family, especially his wife Barbara, who he met on a blind date and proposed to five days later.

Toward the end of the memorial service, Berg pulled out a sheet of paper with words Sugarman wanted Berg to share with the congregation, given that “now I have become the deceased.” Barbara told him jokingly he wanted to have the last word. 

“Please allow me to begin. I’m sorry for anyone I have wronged,” Sugarman wrote. “My soul begs for your forgiveness. I was a human like the rest of us.”

Sugarman asked those present not to shed tears of sorrow but tears of joy. A creed of Sugarman’s was shared repeatedly: “Be thou a blessing to every life you touch.”

Several people at the service felt Sugarman’s touch.

“Alvin Sugarman had more of a spiritual impact on me than any other person of faith,” said Tom Johnson, retired president of CNN who is not Jewish. Sugarman called him the Monday before he died to say he was going into hospice. Johnson reminded Sugarman that former President Jimmy Carter had lived for nearly two years after entering hospice. Sugarman’s death came too abruptly for Johnson.

The same was true for Arthur Blank, co-founder of the Home Depot and the owner of the Atlanta Falcons. “We were supposed to have lunch on Tuesday, but he had to cancel because he wasn’t feeling well,” said Blank, who spoke of what a wonderful human being and friend Sugarman had been to him.

“His presence was a blessing that will be with us always,” Berg said of Sugarman. “The spirit returns to God in the end. Our ability to touch others does not end with death.”

Note to readers:

Rabbi Alvin Sugarman touched my life like he did so many others.

When both my parents were terminally ill at the same time in the fall of 1998, I reached out to Rabbi Sugarman for advice. I told him over lunch that I was concerned because my parents were nonpracticing Jews who considered themselves to be atheists. I wondered if there was something I could or should do with respect to the Jewish faith so they could be at peace with death.

Rabbi Sugarman assured me there was no need for a deathbed confessional. The Jewish faith values how you live your life day in and day out. 

“I know your parents, and I know how they have lived their lives,” Rabbi Sugarman told me. “You and your parents have nothing to worry about.”

We then began to talk about my own conflicted relationship with God and religion.

“Do you know what the word Israel means?” Rabbi Sugarman asked. 

“I do not,” I said. 

“It means to argue with God,” he said.

“Well, we may be Jewish after all!” 

I can still remember his hearty laugh reacting to my comment. 

Decades later, I can still feel the relief I felt after my lunch with Rabbi Sugarman. Our family could be at peace with our relationship, or lack thereof, with God and religion.

Here is the official obituary of Rabbi Alvin M. Sugarman:

Alvin Marx Sugarman, a devoted husband, father, grandfather, and friend, a beloved rabbi, and a dedicated public servant and leader of the Atlanta community, passed away peacefully at his home surrounded by loved ones on January 17, 2025.  Born on June 3, 1938 at Georgia Baptist Hospital to Helene Marx and Meyer Louis Sugarman, Alvin liked to say he was born on third base of the old Atlanta baseball park which began his lifelong love and devotion to his favorite team, the Atlanta Braves.

Growing up in Atlanta gave him great joy and a sense of pride in his community.  He had a love of learning which began at Morningside Elementary and Grady High School and continued with earning both his undergraduate and later Ph.D. degrees at Emory University. Alvin cared deeply about the relationships he formed with friends and maintained numerous close childhood friendships throughout his entire life.

He began his professional journey in the business world at Montag Inc. selling paper products, but his search for answers to life’s questions led him to Hebrew Union College and the rabbinate. Alvin served as Senior Rabbi for over 30 years at The Temple; the very place where he grew up, was confirmed, and attended services and Sunday School as a boy.

Alvin’s love story with Barbara Dee (née Herman), his wife of nearly sixty years, was one of true devotion. They met on a blind date in December 1964, and he proposed just five days later. Alvin adored Barbara and wanted the world to know, often expressing his love for her in heartfelt Facebook posts. 

In midlife, Alvin became an avid runner, often running eight miles from his home to The Temple wearing his signature Hawaiian shorts. He delighted in sharing stories of delivering the invocation before running the Peachtree Road Race. He got a kick out of being called an “Academy Award winning Rabbi” and loved sharing that he was listed 7th in the credits of Driving Miss Daisy where he played the role of Dr. Weil, the Rabbi at The Temple.

Alvin believed deeply that we are all children of God, no matter what race, religion, color or creed. This conviction guided his actions and relationships, inspiring countless others with his kindness, generosity, and unwavering dedication to helping those in need. He ensured that not a single day passed without doing something to uplift someone else, and wherever he saw a need, he tried to fill it.  Ahead of a deep winter freeze in Atlanta in 1984, he tirelessly spearheaded an initiative with The Temple’s lay leadership to find a solution for Atlanta’s homeless. 48 hours later, the doors opened to what is now the Zaban Paradies Center, the first and only shelter in Atlanta for homeless couples.  Following Zaban’s success, he called on churches in the Peachtree Corridor to join The Temple in establishing the Genesis Shelter (now called Our House), for homeless newborn babies and their families.

He was a member of The Atlanta Rotary Club and actively served on numerous boards throughout his career.  Of particular importance to him in recent years, was his work on Emory University’s Board of Trustees and the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, where he was not only a member of the Board, but a patient.

Alvin was a passionate advocate for social justice, interfaith work, and civil rights, working tirelessly to build a more equitable and connected community.  His dedication was recognized with countless awards including the Martin Luther King Jr. Award, the Abe Goldstein Human Relations Award from the Anti-Defamation League, the American Jewish Committee’s Selig Distinguished Service Award, and the Emory Medal, the highest honor Emory University bestows on its alumni. He was appointed by Governor Joe Frank Harris to the first Georgia Human Relations Commission, was asked by Ambassador Andrew Young to dedicate the Martin Luther King Jr. Street in Jerusalem alongside Mayor Teddy Kollek, and worked alongside Hosea Williams to help lead the 1987 Forsyth County protests.

In spite of his intense focus on the community, Alvin made time for and cherished every moment with his family, offering them unwavering love, support, and laughter throughout his life.  Alvin was predeceased by his parents, his brother-in-law, Donald Herman and sister-in-law Barbara Jean Herman. He is survived by his beloved wife Barbara Sugarman, his daughters Lanie Kirsch (Greg) and Leah Siegel (Blaine), his grandchildren Amanda Knock (Phil), Aaron Kirsch (fiancée Erica Thomas), Noah Siegel, and Ryan Siegel, sister-in-law, Carol Herman, brother-in-law, Floyd Herman, numerous nieces, nephews and cousins and his extended family and friends who will forever carry forward his memory and legacy. Alvin Marx Sugarman’s life was a testament to the power of faith, love, and service. His memory will continue to inspire those who knew him and those whose lives he touched. May his memory be a blessing.

The family has requested that Alvin’s memory be honored with donations to Our House, The Marcus Center for Autism, and The Temple.