Most of you probably know who Judy Heumann was – perhaps the country’s, or the world’s, most successful and visible advocate for disability rights, whose book “Being Heumann” was published a year or two ago, and who was one of (perhaps the) central character in the Oscar nominated documentary film, “Crip Camp”. She was a former Assistant Secretary of Education, Director of Services for the Disabled for DC, and Ford Foundation and World Bank official. She worked in the Clinton and Obama administrations. She was the leader of the sit-in that helped push the Americans with Disabilities Act across the finish line. Judy was also a long time, and very active, member of Adas Israel, the synagogue that we belong to, in Washington.

When Judy passed away last week (a surprise to us and to most) at 75, her death made the news, from NPR to Rachel Maddow’s show. And her funeral was scheduled for yesterday morning at Adas Israel, with burial to follow at Judean Garden Cemetery in Olney MD, about 15 miles to the north. Because a large crowd was expected at Adas, a group of us was recruited to help out at the synagogue and cemetery.

The funeral was scheduled for 10, but we were asked to arrive at 8:30, which seemed to me to be much too early. But at 8:30, people were already gathering. It had been assumed that many of the attendees would be disabled, and that access to the building was easier into the social hall (the Kay) that to the sanctuary (the Smith) and, as I understand it, about 700 chairs were set up.

It turned out, however, that the Kay filled, and more seating was made available in other parts of the building, where the services were streamed, including the Smith, which itself had several hundred in attendance. The entire crowd was, by my estimation, about 1200, maybe a few more. And yes, many types of disabilities were found amongst the crowd. Many were in wheelchairs, others were walking but clearly mobility impaired, while others were blind or deaf or had some other apparent, or not so apparent, disability. This required the efforts of us all to make everyone feel comfortable and able to get to a seat, to a rest room and so forth.

All of this was accomplished smoothly, and the service itself, which lasted almost two hours and included short eulogies by the three Adas rabbis, as well as by two who worked with Judy, by her brother, and by her niece. Judy and her husband Jorge Pineda (who is himself disabled) had no children.

By my account again, about 150 or so made their way to the cemetery. The service there was brief, and the largest activity was shoveling dirt onto the coffin after it was lowered into the grave. Normally, there is a big pile of dirt and several shovels, with mourners and friends lining up to put three shovels of dirt in the grave. We had to temporize a bit yesterday, as so many attendees were in wheel chairs. We had boards covering the ground so that the chairs could be rolled next to the grave, and we had buckets of soil, and small shovels, that most of the wheel chair occupants were able to handle, with a little assistance.

Judy was 100% devoted to her cause, and had the remarkable ability to push forward for what was needed for her community without insulting or offending those whose actions had offended her. The rabbis talked about bristling anytime there was a voicemail from Judy, because it was a rebuke for something that they could have, and should have, done better. Former Adas Rabbi Gil Steinlauf, now at Princeton, wrote a wonderful piece in yesterday’s Times of Israel, talking about how he had once given a Torah lesson to begin an Adas Board meeting on the subject of how to help disabled people, only to be publicly rebuked by Judy both as to his words, and as to the religious sources he was siting. He said that he didn’t feel insulted, but rather illuminated, and that it changed his way of thinking about a number of majority/minority issues and how it changed his rabbinate.

I will admit that, after helping out and being on my feet here and there, back and forth, for seven or eight hours, I felt whipped. A small price to pay.