Sandra Fine - A Life of Dedication
[Written by Eric Rothman, President of Malinow and Silverman Mortuary]
Sandra Beth Fine - often affectionately referred to by her friends and clients as: “Sandy Dandy” or “Sandy be Fine”– was a legendary force in the greater Los Angeles Jewish funeral world.
Sandy grew up in St. Paul, Minnesota, (not Minneapolis). In 1961, she and her family moved to Orange County, then later to LA, ultimately settling in the San Fernando Valley. Her career included a number of years as a temple administrator; first at Temple Hollywood Beth El and then at Temple Beth Hillel.
In 1989, Sandy discovered her calling to be a funeral director, as she saw a strong need for a Jewish funeral director in Orange County, eventually starting her own business called Bat Kol Funeral services. She first began working out of Pacific View Memorial Park (then owned by Pierce Brothers) as their Jewish funeral consultant. She made lasting connections with all of the O.C. synagogues, which remained strong throughout her career.
While continuing to serve Orange County, she started moving her business north, as an independent alternative to the large combos. All of us that were involved in the business in the 1990’s knew her as “that old lady who worked out of her mini-van.” Her business model was simple: engage with each person in a highly personal and heartfelt way. She would meet every family at their home and direct every funeral service for them.
Throughout the 1990’s, she continued to work with a series of mortuaries that served as her base of operations and handled her prep and back office. Those included Abbot and Hast, Kiefer and Eyerick and Angelino Valley. In 2004, Sandy merged her business into Malinow and Silverman Mortuary, in what turned out to be a mutually beneficial relationship. Not only was she able to join a Jewish-owned and operated home, but Malinow gained a highly skilled and well-connected funeral director. While technically, she was my employee, I always considered her to be my partner. She had a large, well-established client base, who would still call on her, even after her retirement.
Sandy had a loving warmth that made her perfect for the job. Depending on your age, she was like a grandmother, a mother or a long-lost best friend. She had the unique combination of compassion, love and humor, with - when appropriate - a hefty dose of Yiddishkeit. She made everyone feel like they were all that mattered and were very important to her. With anyone she knew more than casually, she ended every conversation with “love ya!” It took me some time to realize that she genuinely meant that. She truly put everyone she encountered at ease and in a better mood.
Sandy was a pro at the game of Jewish geography. With every person she met, she would ask about their background and dig enough to find some connection. My favorite example of this was on one 4th of July, when she attended a barbeque at my home. At that event, she met my father and his wife, Nina. After learning that Nina, like her, was from the Twin Cities area, she started poking around a little. After a few minutes they discovered that Nina’s grandfather had been Sandy’s mother’s long-time doctor! She managed this rapport with nearly everyone.
While I had known and respected Sandy since my start in the business in 1990, I didn’t really get to know her deeply until 2016, when I bought Malinow and Silverman and we started working together closely. In the following years, I learned a bit about her fiery side, which was saved for those closest to her. But ultimately, these vestiges of strong-will only served to endear her to us and made her warm and loving side even more charming.
During one of the first funerals that we worked together, after I bought Malinow, she decided to give me a little feedback on my funeral directing skills. She informed me that, while I did a lovely job, she thought it was inappropriate that in my opening announcements I began with “good morning.” She said, “Honey, these people just lost a loved one. There is nothing good about this morning.” Even with my counter that it was simply a form of greeting, not a commentary on the day, she maintained that it was not quite right. She also informed me that my blue shirt was not becoming of a funeral director: “Funeral directors wear white shirts!” “But,” she added, “I still love ya!” Those who attended Sandy’s funeral, (or watched it on Zoom), might have noticed that – to respect and honor her - I wore a white shirt and did not begin my remarks with “Good morning.”
Sandy was a workaholic with tremendous energy. She routinely worked until 7 or 8pm every night, and always offered to take after-hours calls. An average day might find her arriving at the office by 10am, going to Costa Mesa to direct a funeral, then driving to Irvine to a family’s house to make an at-need arrangement, then stopping in Encino to get clothes from another family before finally getting home to North Hollywood after a long day (and a quick stop at Gelson’s salad bar).
She worked at this dizzying pace into her 80’s. But the long hours of pushing herself and tirelessly helping others, ultimately forced her to stop working in 2019. While driving on the 210 freeway and talking to a bereaved family, she was involved in a rear-end collision. While thankfully, she was not badly injured, it started a chain of events that led to her retirement and a move into assisted living.
Yet even with this huge lifestyle change - up until only a few weeks before her death - she was still fielding calls from families (who ALL had her personal cell number) and engaging with them for a time, until eventually referring them to me.
Sandy leaves behind a loving family who miss her dearly and deeply. She established an unparalleled legacy which includes the multitude of families that she graciously and selflessly served. Not a week goes by without a family that I’m working with asking about Sandy Fine, the “old lady working out of her mini-van” who meant the world to so many people and was truly ageless.
