The Jack Grossberg Project

I first met Jack in 1971 at a barbecue at his house on Long Island. He seemed to me to be the biggest, fastest talking, flashiest guy I'd ever met. As the evening wore on he approached me and asked me all kinds of questions about my life and my family. Behind that powerful exterior was a warm and caring guy. About eight months later when I moved to New York I went to visit him in his office to invite him to my wedding. I was marrying his niece Susan. Within a few minutes he changed my life forever. He hired me on to his movie and started me on the career that I have to this day. I wasn't qualified, but Jack knew I needed a break and he gave me one. He did that for a lot of people. I remember Jack in the early years of our relationship as a pure dynamo. He would light up a room when he came in. When he walked on to a set you would feel safe. Whatever the problem was, Jack could deal with it. He knew the business from the ground up. He was equally at ease with the grips and the heads of the studio. I saw him with both. If you brought a child around, Jack would head off to craft services and come back with cookies. You didn't dare try and pick up a check with Jack. He'd break your fingers. And in those early years, as later, Jack would always glow when talking about Michael. He was so proud of you, Michael. Not just for your professional accomplishments, but for who you are as a person. After several years of marriage, Susan and I were divorced, but Jack and I stayed friends. In fact we grew closer over the years. He welcomed my wife and kids as family. I had a friend who played hockey for the New York Rangers. Jack met him once. He ended his career in L.A. and hit hard times. His wife took half his money, and his friends swindled him out of the rest. He called me. He was desperate. He was living in his car. I told Jack; maybe he could be a teams ter. Jack set up a meeting with the head of teamsters at Universal, and another with my friend at the same time. He introduced them, and got the teamsters to waive the several year waiting period. He saved my friend's life. Over the last few years, my relationship with Jack consisted of visits to his place, and occasional dinners or lunches out. Whenever I would visit Jack would tap me after a while and say, "You can go now." He thought those were mercy visits on my part. But every time I would visit Jack, I was the one who came away with more. He would counsel me about my career. I would always go to him and tell him what was going on, and he always had good advice for me. He would regale me with stories, and we would have a good time. I'm going to miss those sessions. I will never forget the last day of his life. When I got to the hospital his breathing was labored and it wasn't pretty. He was in obvious pain and it was time to let go. But he fought on for several hours. Then, he slipped into a gentler kind of breathing. It was as though he was sleeping. Michael and Efrat were there, holding his hands and touching his arm and telling him they loved him. Zoilla was putting compresses on his head and kissing his forehead. Rabbi Butler's wife rubbed his feet. As the breathing got slower everyone leaned forward and focused on Jack. There were about ten people in the room. There was so much love for Jack. We called for the doctor, but he was on another floor. The nurse came in and said, "He's gone." Then she said something so simple, so beautiful and so true. "Well done, Mr. Grossberg, well done."

Pat MacMahon