Community in mourning as ‘Uncle Syd’ is laid to rest

Sydney Kronenthal, one of Culver City’s community stalwarts of the 20th century who established the city’s parks and recreation program, was laid to rest at Hillside Memorial Park on Oct. 21.

Kronenthal’s niece, Carrie Ginsberg, said her uncle died peacefully at home in the San Fernando Valley. He was 92.

Born on Dec. 22 in Chicago, Kronenthal led the then Parks, Recreation and Human Services Dept. for 52 years, longer than any city department leader in Culver City history. City leaders renamed McManus Park in east Culver City after him in 1992. He retired in 1998.

 A recreation bond that Kronenthal drafted and lobbied for that eventually passed was used to pay for the Veterans Memorial Building on Culver Boulevard as well as buildings at Richard Alexander Culver West Park and the facility that bears his name.

“Syd was instrumental in creating the wonderful Parks, Recreation and Community Services Dept. this city has grown accustomed to benefiting from.  His professional life was a tribute to the dedication of the man to the people he served.  He will be missed by all and be remembered for not just who he was, but what his efforts created in our city,” said Culver City Park, Recreation and Community Services Director Daniel Hernandez.

“His local, regional, state, national and international affiliations and awards illustrate an amazing legacy that touched the lives of millions,” added long-time Culver City realtor and resident Mike Cohen.

Cohen said he left a light on in his home until 11 p.m. recently “in recognition of the long hours [Kronenthal] would put in hunched over his desk late into the evening.”

City historian Julie Lugo Cerra said Kronenthal was a part of her life from the time she was a tot.

“I cannot remember not knowing Syd, probably because he went to work for Culver City about the time I was born, and he was one of my dad’s cronies,” Lugo Cerra recalled. “Syd Kronenthal was ‘married’ to Culver City.  He loved this town, its people, and especially its children — even after we grew up! We were all his ‘kids’ and he was our leader, ‘Uncle Syd,’ our Santa, and our friend. His interests were so varied, it is not surprising that he got two miles of the 1984 L.A. Olympic Marathons (Mens and first Womens) to run through Culver City, or that he wanted us all to be his swimmers, or that he was a founder of the Culver City Historical Society, active in the Sister City Committee or that he encouraged the arts as the Director of Parks and Recreation. He was Syd. Someone asked me what languages Syd spoke… I think he spoke PEOPLE.”

At a tribute to Kronenthal in Washington, D.C.,  just before his retirement, former Rep. Julian Dixon (D- Culver City) predicted that Kronenthal’s legacy would be long-lasting.   “Like a tall oak tree which has endured the test of time, his leadership and service become more valuable with every passing year,” Dixon told his colleagues.

At his retirement party, Kronenthal told the Los Angeles Times how much he loved his job running the department.

“I just never wanted to leave. Every morning, I just couldn’t wait to get to the office, to see what I could get accomplished that day,” Kronenthal said.

Known as “Uncle Syd” to many in Culver City, Kronenthal was a life-long bachelor who never had children. In past interviews, he said “Culver City” was his family.

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Syd left us with style, smiles, and such stories

By Mike Cohen

Special to the CCN

The following paen dedicated to Syd Kronenthal was prepared by the author and read at his funeral service.

In a second floor office overlooking Veterans Park, the Culver City Director of Parks and Recreation would dictate to his secretary, Ann Behrens, and in later years to secretary Lisa Seno. legions of eloquent memos, commendations, reference letters, analysis and eulogies.

Syd Kronenthal would share choice eulogies with me, and my eyes would well up for people I never knew.

He was ambivalent about having outlived so many of his contemporaries.

Syd was keenly aware of his mortality. I would often hear from his corner office his lighthearted response on the phone, “How are you doing, Syd?”  “I’m doing great, considering the alternative.”

And, he could talk. Syd needed no introduction. What he needed was a conclusion. City council members not only looked at their watches, they shook them.

So, picture Uncle Syd up here giving his eulogy. He would start by saying, “Great Party.”  Syd would thank all of you for attending such an august event. He’d look around the room and identify each of you with an anecdote. He would praise you, noting how he was proud to participate in your growth. He would offer a kind word to me and say, “Mike, you had so much potential.” Was that a compliment?

His eyes would light up as he spotted his five nieces and nephews.

Uncle Syd loved and adored Carrie, Burt, and Dana Jean Ginsburg, and Harriet and Paul Brickman, often updating me on their accomplished lives. They were his family. And, we were his family.

You were the essence of his life while he worked for the City of Culver City for 52 years.

He was a single man without property. He was seen everywhere with a woman—except at the altar. His wallet was full of pictures of ‘near Mrs.’

He rented a back unit from Mary Calvert and later lived in Bunny’s aging house in Valley Village. He wore dated attire—‘if I keep wearing these clothes long enough, they will come back in style,’ he said. He drove an old car.

We never quite knew his age. He finally admitted he was 60, but he didn’t say when.

The Chicago native married his job and his adopted city. It was his core.

“I’ve just never been able to figure out how to divorce my life from the city’s life,” he said. “The city is my family. Really, it’s something I would die for. “

Each of you have contributed profoundly to your communities and constituencies, because each of you have taken some of Syd with you. He taught us, gave us freedom to blossom and to make mistakes. He had faith in us. Fiercely loyal, he protected us.

Each of us has a Syd story—an anecdote that defines him and in many ways has defined us. We continue to pay Syd forward.

On a personal note, he guided the construction of paddle tennis courts 40 years ago, whose Culver City youth, which includes me, have produced over 200 national titles.

He allowed me to spread my wings for 20 years at the Recreation department and we stayed close for 20 years after.

My dad kicked me out of the house at age 19. He said I needed to spread my wings. Angry initially, I thanked dad two years later.

Syd kicked me out 20 years later. I had left the recreation department to sell real estate. Four months later, the job of recreation supervisor became available, and I finished No. 1 in the interview process.

Syd’s office door was always open. “Mike, come on in.”  We would exchange a few pleasantries. “Close the door, will you,” he said.

“Mike, I was like you at your age. Don’t be another Syd. Get out of your comfort zone here and give real estate a go.” Angry initially, I thanked Syd two years later.

Of course, Syd advised a wild throwing rookie Dodger pitcher to return home to work with his uncle in real estate. Whatever happened to Sandy Koufax.

He told Roy Disney in the early 1950’s, “An amusement park? You’ll never be able to compete with the movie industry.”  Whatever happened to Disneyland.

You see the footprints of Syd Kronenthal throughout this community and the world.

This booklet prepared in 1996 celebrates his 50 years of service to the City of Culver City. You’d think 100 people were being cited in the numerous pages documenting his local, regional, statewide, national and international affiliations and awards.

Dozens of times he was a president, chairman, director, founder, lecturer, administrator, consultant, lifetime honors, man of the year. His contact list of movie stars, Olympians, professional athletes and high-ranking officials was astounding.

He used those titles and those relationships to better the lives of struggling families in the community, people with disabilities, seniors, and the disenfranchised.

What can we learn from his altruism? What lessons and experiences might he be sharing with you right now? How would you incorporate them in your daily schedule?

Listen to him teach me:

“I should have fought harder for park space, Mike. And that includes punching out some of the city councilmen who wanted to stand in my way.”

“I can be a bull in a china closet.”

Syd never endorsed candidates for public office. “Choose the wrong guy and the whole department could get compromised later on,” he said.

His advice to me for handling conflict with a superior:  “Take him out to lunch. Get him out of the work environment for a little while.”

Regarding his Jewish faith. “Forgive, but never forget, Mike. Once you forget, someone will make you remember.”

And sports:  “Athletic competition is the laboratory of life. You have winners and losers. Ignore this “everybody wins” crap. You learn from your setbacks and victories,” said the father of the Modern Olympic movement.

About leaving his job: “When I finally retire, I’m going to have to find out who I am and who I really belong to.”

Syd Kronenthal had trouble leaving it after he had left it. Just as he had issues with going home at a decent hour every evening, as you often would see the light on in his office well into the night. In his final years and then final days, he was surrounded by his scrapbooks and artifacts that told amazing stories. He wanted me and others to consume them to continue a lasting legacy. To carry the torch.

Let’s all carry the torch during this period of spiritual renewal. Let’s take a little of Syd home with us for our growth and for the greater good. Let’s provide comfort, support, and be present with those we love, and those in need. Let’s be Syd.

As we wish Syd’s family abundant light, blessings and comfort. Let us together say, Amen.

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Just the facts about Syd —

… knew John Wooden in the 1930s, when Wooden was a Chicago school teacher.

… Joe DiMaggio introduced Syd to Culver City by taking him to Joe Petrelli’s Famous Steakhouse in 1944, when both were stationed in Santa Ana.

… first met Harry Culver on Balboa Island in 1944.

… worked with Dean Rusk and Edward R. Murrow in 1962-1963, during a tour of French Equatorial Africa.

… spent a day with Albert Schweitzer in Gabon, during a tour of French Equatorial Africa in 1963.

… established wheelchair basketball and wrote the rules for the sport. The first wheelchair basketball team played during the halftime of a Stanford-USC basketball game in April 1946.

… helped founded the Culver City Credit Union, and has served on one committee or another since its inception.

… the only Culver City governmental official to serve on the board of directors of the League of California Cities, and has been on a policy committee of one kind or another for the past 40 years.

… at the end of WWII, Gen. Omar Bradley assumed leadership of the Veterans Administration and along with Bernard Baruch and Carl Menninger, summoned Syd to work with rehabilitating veterans and help them assimilate in the community in 1944.

… he received an award from the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU), along with John Wayne in 1970.

Syd wasn’t perfect. Here are his missed calls:

… advised Kenneth Hahn not to run for County Supervisor because he didn’t think he could get enough votes.

… was on the marketing research committee to make a final recommendation as to whether the Brooklyn Dodgers should move to Los Angeles. Syd’s recommendation: “Don’t move!”

… in 1958, Syd advised a struggling young Dodger player to give up his dream of a baseball career and return home to work with his uncle. “Go with real estate,” he told Sandy Koufax.

… when Roy Disney asked whether or not to develop a new idea in Southern California, Syd’s advice: “You’ll never be able to compete with the movie industry.” The ‘new idea’ was a theme park named Disneyland.