Universally known as “Lady J,” Lady Amelie Jakobovits – the widow of former British chief rabbi Lord Immanuel Jakobovits – passed away in London on Erev Shabbat, May 7, after a short illness. She was 81.
A major personality in her own right, she was born Amelie Munk, in Germany, into a prominent European rabbinic family.
As a child, she and her family fled the Nazis, hiding in a pit on a farm before successfully escaping to Switzerland. In later years, she would hold audiences of young people riveted as she told of using sawdust, earth and water to make symbolic matzah to celebrate Pesach during the war.
Married as a teenager to Immanuel Jakobovits, she was his consummate rebbetzin as his career progressed from London to Dublin to New York, and then in 1967 back to London, when he became Britain’s Chief Rabbi.
There, her originally shy personality found its more extrovert dimension, and became an integral part of the Chief Rabbinate as Rabbi, then Sir, and finally Lord Jakobovits transformed his office into a national institution.
As the moral and religious influence of the chief rabbi rose into prominence in British life, she hosted thinkers, politicians, clergymen, journalists and statesmen in the famous Hamilton Terrace residence. She could be friendly to all, always recognizing the good in others, while meticulous in her personal, very Orthodox observance.
Yet she also had the gift of personal chesed and was a one-person powerhouse of good deeds.
If you were Jewish and in hospital anywhere in central London, there was a good chance Lady J would appear at your bedside on a Friday afternoon with two small hand-baked challot, a jar of chicken soup and words of encouragement. If your family had suffered any sort of trauma or tragedy, anywhere in London, religious or not, you could answer the door and find Lady J there with food, medical supplies, clothing or whatever else was needed.
Every charity concerned with the needy, the suffering or the distressed could count on her patronage – and count on her to make a few phone calls to a circle of potential benefactors. Few could resist her requests.
She was also meticulous in calling – often to people she had never met – to congratulate them on a particular achievement, or an impressive interview or article, or to thank them for some gesture of support for the chief rabbi.
Despite having her own six children and almost 100 grandchildren and great-grandchildren, she would never miss calling to congratulate others on a simchah, or to wish a refuah shleimah – a speedy recovery – to the sick.
Lady J was a dynamic, entertaining and sought-after speaker. She loved to inspire and to tell, on the one hand, the story of her experiences as a young girl in the war and on the other, her experiences a guest of the royal family at Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle, including the meticulous arrangements made to accommodate the religious requirements of the chief rabbi and rebbetzin.
On the couple’s first visit to Windsor Castle as overnight guests – a considerable distinction – the royal servants, unpacking the rabbinical luggage, identified the chief rabbi’s tallit as a “holy blanket” and spread it reverently over his bed.
When her beloved “Mano” passed away in 1999, she devoted herself to her family and to helping others.
Sharp, no-nonsense, good humoured, energetic and caring, she was persona grata in every section of the community, bringing a good measure of continental flair and character into the otherwise dusty corridors of Anglo-Jewry.