- Date Of Birth: February 1, 1941
- Date Of Death: February 3, 2022
- State: Iowa
Simma Stein, 81, passed away peacefully while surrounded by family at home in Rancho Mirage, CA. She is survived by her husband Michael Stein, her son Stephen (Pam) Stein, her daughter Laura (Jason) Turbow, and her son Benjamin Stein, her brothers David Adler and Michael (Ellen) Falk, her sisters-in-laws Harriet Stein and Audrey (Barry) Stein-Goldings. She also leaves behind four grandchildren (Nola and Judah Stein, Mozi and Reuben Turbow) and three nieces, Rachel (David) Adler, Jessica (Jonathan) Panikoff, Rebecca (Peter) Kasherginsky, and last but not least, her Jacobs cousins and countless friends.
If you know anyone named Simma, it’s most likely Simma Stein because Simma is NOT a popular name. Of all girl names between 1900 and 2021, Simma is not even ranked. It’s probably why her children are named Steve, Laura, and Ben.
Simma was born in Brooklyn, New York to Harry and Helen Adler in 1941. When she was 8 she met a boy in grade school. His name was Michael Stein. It was love at first sight. According to family lore she said, “I like you because you’re fat like my brother.” But Michael’s family moved and she never saw that fat boy again… until she went out with a group of friends to a bowling alley 12 years later and that boy (no longer so husky) showed up and said (according to family lore), “How ya doin’, Toots?” Somehow that worked because they soon got married and moved to Detroit where Steve was born. Then to Madison where Laura was born. And finally to West Des Moines where Ben was born.
Let’s not forget that Michael and Simma are from New York. They’re New Yawkers. So… Iowa? Seriously? Yeah. Turns out they could swap knish vendors for roadside corn sellers and not skip a beat. When Michael began his medical practice, Simma left teaching and focused on the family. She was chef, chauffeur, chief counselor as well as academic adviser. She was also top-level management and head designer. Sure, Simma might have given the impression that she was the softer touch (she mostly was), but on no uncertain terms you did NOT mess with Simma Stein. She was no easy mark, no matter how hard her children tried to con her. And where sometimes she could not believe she had such crazy free-spirited kids, she 100% believed IN them and always lent her full support to their pursuits.
Simma was proud of her Jewish heritage and faith. She was always involved in her Jewish community in one way or another whether as president of the Women’s League or generously donating her time and money. It wasn’t until later in life that she learned to do the haftorah. As a woman in particular, it gave her great pleasure to be called up to the bimah. She was always one to buck/start trends.
Simma loved the arts. All of them. Painting, sculpture, literature, architecture, cinema, music, photography, dance, and theater. There are any number of heavy and colorful books in the family room above the fireplace to prove this. Also the fact that she spent time as a docent for the Iowa Art Center.
Simma also loved shopping at the Dollar Store and drinking green tea lattes from Starbucks.
Simma never looked down (or up for that matter) on anyone. She treated everyone she met with equality, kindness, and respect. Everyone. She was good and did good work. Maybe she didn’t donate blood to orphans, but she did actually read to the blind at IRIS for over 20 years. No, seriously. She was that good.
Simma gave the appearance of a beautiful and cultured woman because she was. She was also refined and personified grace. She was not a person you’d think to use or even know a swear word. One time a driver cut her off and her kids were quick to suggest she give them the finger. Simma rolled down the window, stuck out her hand, and gave that driver a firm thumbs up. Simma Stein did not know how to be crude.
Simma was smart – whatever the word of the day on her calendar, she knew it. She was funny – whether appreciating a good joke or having the ability to laugh at herself. And she was a damn good dancer. She and Michael once won a ballroom dance contest in the Catskills. And at any celebration, public or private, Simma and Michael could be found cutting up the dance floor. They’d tear that thing to shreds.
Simma was a strong and fiercely independent woman. There was nothing she couldn’t do herself. And if she was ever sick, she did NOT like anyone fussing over her.
Simma was a devoted wife to her devoted husband Michael for over 58 years. Theirs was a love that defined ‘hashtag goals’. Hashtag, of course, was not something Simma was overly familiar with as she had a love/hate relationship with her phone.
That said, when cancer texted her later in life, ‘Your too weak to withstand the storm,’ Simma texted back, ‘It’s Y O U apostrophe R E.’ She was always one for proper grammar and punctuation. And a fighter. She outlasted every expectation and fought to the end.
Simma, who’s name in Hebrew means ‘treasure’, was not only a person who found worth in herself and others, but who generously gave worth to those around her. She will miss her friends and family, all of whom she loved and cherished dearly. And to whom she’d say, if mourning, “Yeah, yeah, enough already.”
