Stanley Roth remembered

Sydney’s Chevra Kahisha was packed, with members of the Sydney community gathered and a further 150 outside to pay respects to Stanley Roth AM at his funeral service.

Central Synagogue’s Rabbi Levi Wolff delivered the following eulogy:

On December 14, Stanley and Charmaine arrived at Sydney Airport, hearts full and bags packed, looking forward to a long-awaited Hawaiian holiday to celebrate forty-eight years of marriage. A lifetime together. A moment to exhale.

As they stood at the gate, just moments before boarding, Stanley’s phone rang.

It was news of Bondi. Charmaine watched as the colour drained from his face. That frozen look of horror. The same look she had seen on October 7. A look no Jewish heart should ever have to carry. In a panic, they began calling their children, desperate to hear voices, to know everyone was safe. They learned that first responders were already on the scene.

For a man who dedicated his life to serving Australian Jewry, to defending Israel and her people when they were ever threatened, this was his greatest nightmare unfolding in his own backyard. Bondi Beach.

After agonising deliberation, with heavy hearts, they boarded the plane.

Friends, we all have had that same frozen look on our faces this past Sunday.

It cannot be. Not our Stanley.  Just a day earlier, he was in Shul with me, celebrating his Bar Mitzvah anniversary. Full of warmth. Full of presence. A pillar, as always. And then the unthinkable. Shock and sorrow once again rippled through our community. Even now, I struggle to say these words. To speak of my dear friend. My Central Shul brother. Shlomo Dov. In the past tense.

So many beautiful tributes have been written these past days. And yet none can truly capture the magnitude of the man we have lost. Stanley Roth did not just shape our Sydney Jewish community. He helped reshape Australian Jewry. He transformed relationships between Jewish leadership and political power. He helped strengthen the State of Israel itself.

Stanley gave not only his time. Not only his resources. He gave his kishkes and soul. So fully and so selflessly that it is no exaggeration to say his impact reached far beyond this room, far beyond this city, and touched the lives of millions.

And today, we stand broken-hearted…. as we give honour to a giant.

Stanley was born on 8 December 1953 in Sydney, the youngest son of Ann and Henry Roth, both post-war immigrants from Europe who rebuilt their lives after unimaginable loss, arriving in Australia via Shanghai.

Stanley and his older brother John grew up on Towns Road in Vaucluse. A home filled with love, laughter and values. He spoke often and fondly of those early years. Playing cricket in the yard. Chasing the dog around the house. Sitting close to his beloved Nana. Stanley often spoke of his cherished childhood, and assured me – he was the apple of his mother’s eye.

He finished school at Scots College, dux of his year – no less – and went on to complete a Commerce Law degree at UNSW. He practised law at Blake Dawson Waldron, where he became a partner in 1984.  After Henry’s passing, Stanley left his law career to join the successful property development business his father started from the ground up.  He and John continued to grow Henroth, changing the Sydney skyline and doing what they do best – build, grow, contribute. Despite promising to slow down, Stanley loved his work, his colleagues and his office life. As long as he could squeeze in some golf into his schedule.

But more than anything, he loved Charmaine. The love of his life, his partner, his confidante, his soulmate. They met when he was 19, and she was 17. Stanley was Charmaine’s first and only boyfriend and quickly became part of the Winkler family – the son that Chazan Winkler and Maisie never had. After cooking Stanley’s favourite schnitzels for four years, Maisie (not so subtly) asked Stanley how much longer she needed to do this before he proposed.  He got the message. They married in 1977, just two years before Maisie’s tragic passing.  

And from that moment on, they built a home grounded in deep commitment, shared values, and unwavering loyalty.

Their love was constant. They were best friends. Not always in perfect sync, but always in love.

It was a partnership of respect and devotion. A marriage that anchored their family and inspired everyone who had the privilege of witnessing it.

Their precious children, Ilana, Danielle and Michael, became Stanley’s be-all-and-end-all. A fountain of never-ending naches. He welcomed their spouses Ryan, Marc and Jess, with all his heart. And was completely enamoured by his eight grandchildren – Tobi, Ivy, Andy, Sienna, Lily, Harry, Lucy and Ruby. He was the greatest Papa, who took the whole clan on special family holidays, adventures, and great big Shabbos dinners. They were part of his furniture at Central Synagogue.

I will never forget how Stanley beamed with pride sitting in shule beside Mike, Ryan, Marc, Tobi and Harry. He had a sparkle and often tears in his eyes as he looked up at Charmaine, Ilana, Danielle and their girls. He stood sobbing under the Chupahs of his three children, was honoured to be the Sandeck at the brit milot of his two grandsons and danced with joy at their simchas.

I vividly remember dancing with him in the middle of the circle at Andy’s Bar Mitzvah just a few months ago, his joy infectious, his heart completely full.

Tobi’s Bar Mitzvah marked a third generation of Bar Mitzvahs for the Roth family at Central. Something that carried enormous meaning for Stanley. Just as deeply meaningful was the honour of being called up each Yom Kippur for “Shishi” the sixth aliyah, the very same aliyah his father received in this Shule for many years.

And it is an honour we now intend to continue, by passing that aliyah forward to his dear son Michael – L’Dor V’aDor we will carry on the tradition’s one generation passed over to us.

Because for Stanley, family, faith and community were never separate worlds. They were one.

By his actions, he instilled in his children a strong moral compass, showed the importance of hard work. He had a way with words. He was direct. You always knew where you stood with Stan. But that directness was rooted in principle, not ego. And behind the tough talk was a deeply loving, affectionate, soft and adoring father and friend.

Indeed after family, Stanley’s heart belonged to his community. To Am Yisroel.

He loved the Sydney Jewish community and the State of Israel with a passion and dedication we rarely encounter. He gave his time, his energy, his resources and his wisdom. But more than that, he gave his heart. This was not philanthropy at arm’s length. Stanley felt deeply. He cried freely. And he fought tirelessly for the causes that mattered to him.

Over five decades, he devoted himself to UIA, where he became Honorary Life President. AIJAC and the Rambam trips. JCA. Moriah College. The Sydney Jewish Museum. Y2I. St Vincent’s Hospital. The Heart Foundation. And our major universities.

In recent years, watching our university campuses turn into breeding grounds of hate, division and antisemitism wounded Stanley to his core. He could not stand by. Because for Stanley, silence was never an option.

Truth is, Stanley was so shaken by the events of October 7 that I don’t believe he was ever the same.  He watched the world turn against Israel and was particularly scarred by events in his beloved country – Australia.  Every chant, every graffitied wall, every firebomb – was like a punch in the gut for Stanley.  But he didn’t just complain – he acted.  Becoming co-chair of the Australian Mayors Summit Against Antisemitism.  And that was the magic of Stanley Roth.  He believed genuinely.  He felt deeply.  He gave generously.  He worked diligently to change the world for the better.

In honour of his father, Stanley supported an extraordinary range of causes through the Henry Roth Charitable Foundation and the Stanley and Charmaine Roth Family Foundation. His passions were clear. Jewish education. Advocacy. And giving our children the opportunity to experience Israel.

A few months ago, Stanley heard that the Year 10 students at Kesser Torah were close to cancelling their school trip to Israel. He phoned to ask why. When told that not all families could afford the cost, his response was immediate.

He donated one hundred thousand dollars.

Quietly. Without fanfare. So that every child could go and experience Chanukah in Israel.

I know personally how many of those very children attend Chanukah on the Beach each year.

Which is why this act, as generous as it was, became something even more profound. Because had they not gone, many of those children would have been there. Who knows what may have happened.

Stanley did not just change lives. In his own quiet way, he saved them.

Stanley’s success in business and philanthropy earned him rare respect across all levels of Australian society. He was recognised as a Member of the Order of Australia and built deep, trusted relationships between the Jewish community and Australia’s political leadership. He helped shape national understanding of Jewish and Israeli affairs, work that took on even greater meaning after October 7.

It was only fitting that Stanley chose to celebrate his 50th birthday in Israel in 2003, at the height of the Second Intifada. He was immensely proud that sixty Australian friends joined his family, not despite the danger, but because of it.

Stanley was a fiercely loyal friend. Anyone lucky enough to be in his world knew he would do anything for them. He loved his golf, Scrabble, watching the Bulldogs, travelling, and his infamous emails. He did it all in true Stanley style. Determined. Competitive. Often at 4am. And always with passion.

Looking back, Stanley’s final day was spent doing exactly what he loved.

He and Charmaine arrived home from Hawaii, gathered their family for a beautiful Shabbos dinner, and came to Shul on Shabbos morning. He comforted the community. Thanked us for the work of these past difficult weeks. He lingered, spoke with friends, shared warmth and strength. Later that afternoon, he enjoyed a round of golf. And as the day closed, he spent the evening exactly where he belonged, with his soulmate by his side.

On Sunday morning, tragedy struck.

Tragedy for Charmaine. For Ilana, Danielle and Michael, and their families. For John and his family. And tragedy for all of us. For our community. For all of Am Yisroel.

I cannot believe I am saying my final goodbye to you.

I am still in shock from the 7am call from Michael on Sunday. I rushed to the hospital, and later that day returned again, in the final five minutes of your life in this world. I stood at your bedside with your wife and children and we recited the Shema and Tehilim together. We knew we were about to lose you.

And then Michael looked at me and said, Rabbi, just tell him something. Say something.

So I leaned in and said, Shlomo Dov, you have been a legend to Am Yisroel in Australia and in Israel. We love you. And we all thank you.

And I kid you not, a moment after those words left my mouth, his oxygen levels flattened, it was the last words he heard before his precious soul returned to its Maker.

To say that you leave a void in our lives is an understatement. I will miss your phone calls, just checking in to see how my family and the community is doing. I will miss seeing you stroll into Shul, perfectly timed to fall asleep during my sermon. I will miss the way you would tear up when Shimon or Yehuda sang L’dorVador.

I know there is now an everlasting piece of Central Synagogue, in the front row in Heaven.

Stan, you did so much for so many. In your final WhatsApp message to me from Hawaii, you told me how proud you were of what I was doing in the aftermath of the Bondi Beach massacre, and how proudly you told the American Jews you met at the hotel that I was your Rabbi. You shared how you and Charmaine lit the menorah in the lobby for others to enjoy, and sang the Ma’oz Tzur together.

But more than anything, you lit up your family’s menorah. Your eight grandchildren are the eight candles of your menorah

Like a shamash, the tall candle in the centre, you ignited each of them with your light. Each one of your children and grandchildren will continue to shine your light into this world. A light that will now continue through them, to their families, to our community, and to the entire world.

They will keep that light alive by performing mitzvot in your honour. By being a blessing to our people. By simply being like you.    God bless you, Shlomo Dov. We already miss you dearly. May your precious soul be bound in the bond of eternal life. Amen.

Stanley Roth

Born: Sydney Dec 8, 1953

Died: Sydney Dec 28