Josephine Gimble, Ph.D
 [30K] A Tribute by Israel Rubin
How does one sum up the life of a woman who was talented in many ways and who was
all consuming in her Jewishness? As a member of three synagogues, that I know of,
she made many contributions. Once she said to me, "Please join me tomorrow. I had
a scribe write a Torah scroll in memory of my husband." On another occasion she
decided to become Bat Mitzvah. Where did she find the time? She studied for two
years to reach that achievement. If there was a challenge in the synagogue,
Josephine would rise to the occasion. There was a time she tried to interest the
leadership in one of her congregations to make a time line in the synagogue lobby
to show the countries of origin for the membership and to make it into a religious
school project. Although her idea was not accepted, Josephine did surely try. To
celebrate a big birthday for me, she persuaded my children to participate in the
dedication of a new Torah scroll. I learned about an old Jewish German tradition -
I found her embroidering an infant's garment. She made it from a Jewish design she
had sketched. According to tradition, the infant would grow to womanhood, marry,
have children and provide her children with the garment. It was called a wimple.
I do not know any women who decided in their late forties to start a new career.
With one teenager still at home, Josephine decided to get her Ph.D. in public
health at John Hopkins University, and continue with some difficulty, her role as
wife and mother. She went on to teach at American University and became Acting Dean
of the School of Nursing.
Josephine delighted in the feeling of achievement from giving of herself in the
pursuit of the Mitzvot of Tikun Olam (Repair of the World). It does not snow very
often in the Washington, D. C. area but when it does, most everything stops. I
phoned Josephine on one of those wild, freezing snowing days. No Answer. I phoned
again and again. Where
could she be? Finally I heard from her. She had hiked in the snow storm to perform
nursing duties at the Hebrew Home. I did not know that she was snow volunteer.
As a result of her experiences at the Washington Hebrew Home, She discovered that
deplorable conditions existed behind the façade of an engaging lobby and sweet talk.
She initiated a non-profit organization, "Advocates for the Enhancement of Long Term
Care" to improve the conditions at the Hebrew Home and other long term care
facilities in the State of Maryland.
Josephine played an important role in the work of Kulanu (all of us) both in Tucson
and Maryland. There was one program in particular that she formulated which was a
huge success if measured in the feelings raised by the participants. Josephine did
research on "Who Is A Jew In America?" One of her findings was that many Jews
defined themselves in terms of race. After stirring everyone up, she proceeded to
divide the audience into small groups. She instructed them to define who is a Jew
for themselves. They were allowed fifteen minutes to present both majority and
minority points of view. Each group then proceeded to present their definition of
"Who Is A Jew?" That is when tumult started in every group -- both majority and
minority presented a different definition.
Oh yes, Josephine also painted and wrote screen plays. I would like to close with
two of the poems that Josephine wrote:
To a Friend
A titillating joke or a funny story
A daily dose of lochen hora
Shared projects and errands to run
These are the things that make my life fun
As we talk to each other across the miles
There are still many things that bring on the smiles
It's just not the same as having you near,
So I want to tell you that I miss you, my dear.
But life goes on and I urge you to treasure
The things each day which bring you pleasure,
The mind's curiosity which has no end,
The beauties of nature, the love of a friend.
L' Chiam
I cannot dwell on death for life is mine.
Yet, it walks beside me constantly.
I have seen Its face and watched the power of its hand,
But, I shall not let it hold me back from living.
Tears cannot dissolve the emptiness of death's presence.
Words are inadequate in the void of desolation.
Love's strong arm supports a staggering grief
Allowing time to heal the wounds death has inflicted.
Those who are gone have often touched my heart,
Their words and kindnesses engraved upon my mind.
The coldness of yesterday's forgotten memories can not claim them,
For life is mine and with me they live on.
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