GOODMAN Barry A., J.D. age 78, passed away June 2, 2021, beloved husband of Missy (Ola) Goodman, dear son of the late Nathan and Leah Goodman, devoted brother of the late Dr. Stanford M. Goodman and Rabbi Tami Elliott Goodman. Graveside services will be Friday, June 4th, at 2:30 P.M. at Adath Israel Cemetery - Price Hill, 1661 Sunset Ave., Cincinnati, Ohio 45238. Barry practiced as an attorney for 50 years and served honorably in the Navy during the Vietnam war. His smile and presence will be dearly missed by his family and friends. Memorial contributions may be made to JEEP (Jewish Experiences for Every Person, jewisheducate.org) or to the charity of one’s choice. May his memory be for a blessing.

Barry Goodman Eulogy​ from June 4, 2021​ by Rabbi Tami Elliott Goodman, 5781:

Thank you for coming. My name is Rabbi Tami Elliott Goodman and I have the privilege of being Barry Goodman’s sister-in-law, married to his brother Stan. I am so glad you were all able to join us in remembering Barry Allen Goodman.

In this new age in which we emerge from the pandemic, I wanted to suggest a few guidelines. If you are more comfortable wearing a mask, please do. If you have not yet been vaccinated, I would ask that you wear a mask for the protection of others. And if you are vaccinated, it is your choice whether or not to wear a mask. We may be standing 6 ft apart and our rituals may look a little different, but our goal is to create a safe and holy space, where we remember.

As Barry’s sister-in-law I struggled to imagine how I could tell the stories about the best brother-in-law in the world, especially knowing that the next time I see him, I am going to have to account for my mistakes in the telling. So please pardon any errors, as I share with you some of Barry’s stories.

Barry loved to tell stories about his family. He told the story of his father Nathan, who as a young boy in Russia, stayed behind to care for his younger brother Sander Goodman, who was not able to travel to America with the rest of the family, because of a case of lice.

Barry loved to tell stories about his friends. He told the story of growing up as a young boy on Lowry Ave in Cincinnati. As a young boy, he was teased for his stuttering, when one day in 2nd grade, a young boy named Steve, who lived nearby, came up to him and said, “I will be your friend.” Steve Brenner and Barry were friends for the next 70 years. In those 70 years, Barry was the godfather to Steve’s son Ben. They worked together at Lot King. And despite the challenges of life and health, they tried to keep up their weekly Saturday phone calls until Steve’s passing just a few months ago.

Barry told stories about growing up on Willowbrook, and the summers when cousin Anita would come to visit. She and Josephine became fixtures at the Goodman table. There were like sisters, the daughters that Leah and Nathan never had. That special relationship between Barry and Stan and Josephine and their families continued all of their lives.

Barry grew up and attended the University of Cincinnati, receiving a BA. He went on to get his JD in law, graduating in the top of his class from Ohio State University. After law school, he enlisted in the Navy. As an Ensign, he was trained as a weapons officer on the USS Blue, a guided missile cruiser, which provided combat support for ground troops and offensive operations in North Vietnam. While providing support for air operations, his squadron participated directly in the rescue of 26 aircrew members downed in the Gulf of Tonkin. In the course of these operations, an explosive device detonated while Barry was on deck causing him to lose most of his hearing, a major hearing loss which would impact him the rest of his life. Despite his injuries and loss of hearing, Barry went on to be promoted to Lieutenant Junior Grade and worked as a Discipline Officer and Uniform of Military Justice Instructor at the Fleet Training Center in San Diego. In documents corresponding to his Navy Achievement Medal, it states, LTJG Goodman researched and redrafted much of the teaching and the student materials of the Uniform of Military Justice Course, incorporating therein his keen legal insight and shipboard experience. Further, LTJG Goodman gave of his time after normal working hours to personally tutor students to ensure that each student had a sound understanding of Military Justice. His outstanding achievements, complete dedication to his responsibilities and his constant concern for justice reflected great credit upon himself and were in keeping with the highest traditions of the U S Naval Service. Barry was awarded the Vietnam Service medal, 3 bronze stars, National Defense Service Medal, Combat Action Ribbon, and a Meritorious Unit Commendation for his time in the service.

Barry loved his life in California and when asked about why he came back to Cincinnati, he said that he had to come back, to take care of his brother who had MS and to help him family run their Fashion Shoppe stores. The Goodman family owned 22 local women’s fashion stores at one time called the Fashion Shoppes. Little by little, the city changed, populations moved, malls opened and all the Fashion Shoppes were either sold or closed. Barry went into business with his brother Stan, buying, renting and selling properties. When I would come into town, Barry and I would drive around Cincinnati and Covington as he pointed out the buildings they had owned, the ones they had sold and the ones that had gotten away, like the old Manishevitz matzah factory. He channeled his love of law into his real estate business, eventually joining his old friend Steve in a partnership which flourished for many years.

Not only would Barry build his legal niche in Cincinnati, he would find the love of his life, Missy, over a Diet Coke, while her soon to be ex-boyfriend was in the next room. Barry was totally devoted to the law, and he was totally devoted to Missy. They lived together, they worked together and when Missy became ill, he stayed home and cared for her, barely leaving her side. Their marriage lasted for 23 years. She died on August 19, 2008, the day before his birthday. He never celebrated his birthday again.

Not only did Barry tell these stories, but his family and friends would add to the text. Yesterday, Lois Goodman told me a story that one day Barry showed up at their house dressed in full military gear. He told them he had come over to present a gift to Jay, Ron and Lois’ 10 year old son. He officially gave him a medal bar from his Naval honors as a gift. Lois called Jay to let him know of Barry’s passing and together they retold the story over 50 years later.

Barry loved to tell these stories, because these stories were about the people and things he loved, time spent with Steve and Judy, and Marcia and Cliff celebrating the Jewish holidays, evenings spent with his brother Stan, time spent with his parents running the family business and each and every day with assorted rescue cats and dogs and his beloved Missy. These were his treasures and he remained devoted to them, each and every day of his life.

Barry’s military awards and his life tell stories of love and loyalty. The also tell stories of courage. The young boy with a stuttering problem went on to excel in college and legal studies, finally overcoming his stuttering in his graduate years. The Naval veteran who lost most of his hearing in battle, went on to mentor students in law and justice. Even when his body and mind were failing him, he would pick himself up and face each new reality. He greeted old and new friends with the classic Goodman smile which could light up the room.

His doctors and those close to him told stories of his courage, as each time Barry would come back, again and again. In recent years before Covid, Barry and I talked about his possibly moving to Connecticut to be near me. When Barry contracted Covid, Richard Goodman took over his care and watched over Barry during multiple hospital stays, just as Nathan, Barry’s father, watched over Sander in Russia, generations before. As time went on, we realized that Barry needed more care, we looked at nursing homes in Cincinnati and Connecticut. With each new hospitalization, each new hurdle, Barry had a harder time coming back. The hardest thing I ever had to tell him was that he would not be coming to Connecticut. The stories of Barry’s life teach us about courage in the face of adversity and a life of love and devotion.

As the sun begins to descend, I need to tell you that tonight begins a special Shabbat. For tonight in Connecticut at Congregation Beth Israel when it is time to say Kaddish, the Jewish prayer where we remember our loved ones before the anniversary of their passing, they will be reading the names of my beloved brother-in-law, Barry Goodman; his beloved mother, Leah Goodman and his beloved brother, my husband, Stanford Goodman. In a sense, Barry made it to Connecticut and is now being embraced by his beloved family and friends. May they be remembered for a blessing. Ken y’hi ratzon, may this be God’s will.

As a postscript: In these past many months of isolation and quarantine, I want to thank the many workers, doctors, nurses, social workers, nurses aids, service workers and management, who took care of Barry and all our loved ones and friends, literally when we could not. May they all be remembered for a blessing. Amen.

https://www.weilkahnfuneralhome.com/obituaries/Barry-Goodman/