Senator Lieberman is best remembered for being selected as Al Gore’s running mate in 2000, an honor that he likely earned by his courageous excoriation of POTUS from the floor of the Senate two years earlier. Lieberman proved then that while most politicians may talk the talk, they’re clueless as to the walk.

Where did he get this from? Like a good soup, it all starts with stock. I remember his mother Marcia well (factually, she was unforgettable) and Joe’s eulogy for her was a classic, including this reference to her lavish sense of humor:

“When her pulse rocketed to 190, she asked the cardiologist what caused such palpitations. ‘Sometimes it’s love,’ he offered, and Marcia rejoindered, ‘But I just met you.’”

One second later, Joe had everyone crying and wishing that they could mimic her stalwart concern for others.

A few years ago, I visited Senator Lieberman in his Manhattan office. The law firm was located somewhere in the upper stratosphere, and his office, the size of an infield, had a sprawling view of New Jersey, New Hampshire, and Newfoundland (in but one direction).

He greeted me, “Hanoch, my babysitting protégé, what do you think is going on right now?” He allowed but a few moments for me to ponder. “Our mothers are embracing in Shamayim!”

You can’t get more personal than that, and it immediately eased my discomfort with arriving in a towering pinnacle of corporate America. (Regarding the celestial reference, I was halfway there, topographically.)

Personalizing was one of his trademarks. For our every simchah, we would receive a handwritten blessing. For every book of mine, he would gush, “Great Shabbos reading!” often waxing more profoundly.

As far as politicians acting in accord with moral sensitivity (a group that may soon seek endangered-species protection), Joe Lieberman set the bar. Ever-conscious that he was the most visible example of Jewish observance, he awarded special attention to Jewish organizations. Yet his schedule restricted him to two talks a month for Jewish causes: one in Connecticut, and one nationally.

I asked him why he violated his protocol for the Bais Binyomin Yeshiva dinner in Stamford (1992), which was his second appearance that month.

“I could not refuse, as the boys from the yeshivah performed shemirah for my father,” he said.

He had not one Stamford talmid as a constituent, but that made no difference to the man who placed the commitment to G-d and His values above all else. —

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1007)