Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, May 14, 1995 TAG: 9505150015
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV19 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: DONNA ALVIS-BANKS STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: CHRISTIANSBURG LENGTH: Long
Her husband, Daniel, has no hesitation about using the adage to describe his wife, though, and he should know. He's Jewish.
"There's a Yiddish word - balebosteh," he explained. "It means a woman who makes a home a home.
"Even though Judi grew up Christian, she's a balebosteh."
When Judi Schneck's 23-year-old twin daughters, Patti and Cyndi, nominated her for the Mother of the Year award, they offered no succinct Yiddish word to sum up their feelings for her. Instead, they wrote a letter filled with remembrances of the ways she has touched their lives:
Besides raising twins, she is involved with many other children. She teaches violin privately out of our home, which was good for us because she was always around when we came home from school....
Through being a mother, her compassion for people is immeasurable. This includes dedicating herself to over 2,000 hours of volunteer service at Radford Community Hospital. She is also a Faculty Moms sponsor at Virginia Tech.
As many activities as she is involved with, she has always found time for us. We always had breakfast, lunch and dinner made. There was always a meal prepared for us and our friends. She was committed to being involved in all of our school functions....On top of all this, she's the best friend a mom could be. She let us become ourselves as individuals and enforced the fact that we should believe in ourselves, and she taught us by example.
Judi Schneck doesn't see anything extraordinary about her methods of mothering.
"I really feel like children should be encouraged to express themselves," she said.
It's the same philosophy that guides her when she teaches music lessons to children.
"I have a passion for music and I have a passion for teaching music to kids," she said. "When children study a musical instrument - especially a string instrument - there's so much they learn. It helps them in school, in self-discipline and in self-expression."
Unlike their mother, Patti and Cyndi Schneck didn't find their calling in the silvery sounds of the violin. After graduating from Christiansburg High School, Patti, described by her parents as the "right-brain type," went on to Radford University to study graphic design. Cyndi, the "left-brain type," headed for Virginia Tech to pursue a degree in finance.
"If you put us together," Patti quips, "we're really, really smart."
"Although Mom and Dad were both musicians, they never tried to pressure us into becoming musicians. Our talents didn't lie there," said Cyndi. "They taught us that people are here for different reasons, and they encouraged us to find our niche."
"Patti and I realized quite young what a good family we had. Our friends had broken families. Some of them came from homes where they were neglected. We felt lucky."
Cyndi and Patti Schneck might attribute their parentage to good luck, but Daniel Schneck credits it to love, understanding, patience - and lots of courage.
"Judi and I came from such enormously different backgrounds," he said. "She was from a well-to-do, upper-middle-class family and had traveled around the country."
"I came from a slum, a ghetto in Brooklyn. That was all I knew. I was the son of an immigrant family from Poland."
The Schnecks met in 1964 when both were studying violin at the Julliard School of Music and performing with the New York Opera Orchestra.
"We had an interesting courtship," Daniel Schneck said. "We would hang out after rehearsals at this quaint place called the Carnegie Tavern and talk till 1 or 2 in the morning. We never thought about dating."
Their friendship grew and grew. "Then one day a mutual friend of ours, Donnie Weilerstein, was giving his debut at Carnegie Hall. He was to play the LeClair sonata, one of Judi's favorite pieces," recalled Daniel Schneck.
"Out of a clear blue sky, I said to Judi, `Do you want to go with me to Donnie's debut and have dinner before?' Her eyes flew open and she said, `You mean like a date?'''
"That's when both of us realized that we had something more than friendship," he added. "We married July 6, 1967, and I was promptly disowned by my family."
Daniel Schneck was the first descendant of his family ever to marry outside his religion. His relatives were opposed to the marriage and his future wife's family was skeptical, so he did what any man in his position might do.
He married her anyway.
The couple took their vows in an informal ceremony with only Judi's mother, Genevieve Kooistra, as a witness.
"Everybody said it wouldn't work," he recalled. "Nearly 28 years later, I think we've proved a thing or two."
Patti and Cyndi Schneck think so, too.
Because they were raised to honor both their Christian and their Jewish heritage, they believe they are now understanding, accepting adults.
"It made us more well-rounded," Cyndi said.
Patti said she and her sister didn't consider it out of the ordinary to observe Hanukkah, Christmas and other Jewish and Christian holidays when they were growing up.
Their mother explained why: "We celebrate everything in this home!"
Judi Schneck believes that her family's closeness now is a result of the devotion they developed when her twins were children.
"Patti and Cyndi were always included in everything we did," she said.
The Schnecks moved to the New River Valley in 1972, a year after Patti and Cyndi were born. Daniel Schneck, a professor of engineering science and mechanics at Virginia Tech, joined his wife as a violinist with the New River Valley Symphony Orchestra and later the Roanoke Symphony Orchestra.
The couple recalls taking their toddlers to rehearsals. Judi Schneck laughs heartily when she remembers how one of the twins would crawl under her chair and the other would curl up beneath her husband as the two violinists made beautiful music together.
"I didn't think of her as a musician," Patti protested. "She was my mom."
When Patti and Cyndi were growing up, the word Mom meant daily notes with smiley faces in their lunch boxes, friendly taxi service to and from track practice and late-night gab sessions after their father went to bed.
"That was our girl time," Cyndi said. "We would stay up and talk together."
```Don't tell Dad' is this family's motto," affirmed Daniel Schneck with some indignation.
The twins also said their mother is known as the sentimental Schneck.
They even devised a "Kleenex Factor" measurement to judge the severity of her emotional reaction to their mushy handmade cards.
But, most of all, the family agrees that while Judi Schneck is an artist on the violin, she's an artiste in the kitchen.
Her lasagne, her chicken soup, her apple pies are nothing short of masterpieces. Her family says her specialty is everything she cooks.
They also say she cooks everything.
"A balebosteh always cooks as if the entire town of Christiansburg will drop in for dinner," Daniel Schneck quipped.
"I give her the greatest compliment coming from a Jewish family," he added. "She's a better cook than my mother was."
Despite their original opposition to her marriage, Judi Schneck was able to gain her in-laws' respect and their love.
"She won them over," Daniel Schneck said. "She worked hard. By the time we were married several years, my mother and father practically worshiped the ground she walks on."
Her husband knows why, too.
"Judi has an inherent faith in people," he said. "She doesn't expect to be disappointed in people and, therefore, they don't disappoint her."
"She's there for everybody," Cyndi agreed. "She's like everybody's mom."
Maybe Judi Schneck isn't the typical Jewish mother, after all. A professional musician, volunteer, cheerleader, teacher, housekeeper and chef extraordinaire, she's managed it all with a wit and attitude that's anything but typical.
Middle of the road just isn't her style.
In fact, there's a sign inside her front door that sums up her approach to the journey of life:
"Shalom, Ya'll."
by CNB