Member Spotlight on Daniel Gross

Member Spotlight on Dan Gross

BY DIANA SUSSMAN

When people think of Dan Gross, they might think of a quiet guy that occasionally reads Torah and likes cycling. Maybe they know him as the husband of Third Selectwoman Candi Savin or the devoted, proud father of their two children Aliza and Ethan. They may not realize the value Dan places on being a part of a community, especially our TCS community — where he and his family have belonged since 2002 — or how his experiences have enhanced his perspective. Dan spent has spent his professional life writing about business, economics, and history for publications like The New York Times and Newsweek. He’s also the author of several books, including two on the 2008-2009 financial crisis. His latest book, A Banker’s Journey: How Edmond J. Safra Built a Global Financial Empire, has just been released. It explores how Safra, who was born in Beirut into a Jewish banking family with roots in Aleppo, Syria, founded four banks on three continents and left behind a legacy of philanthropy. But the book is also about Safra’s identity as a Jew from Aleppo — a Halabi, in Arabic. When discussing Safra (who lived from 1923 to 1999), the Jerusalem Post noted, “A Jew may leave Aleppo, but Aleppo never leaves him — even if he’s born in Beirut.”

Dan found this book particularly meaningful and personal because “while I’ve written a lot of business books before, this is the first Jewish book I’ve written. And I think it is very explicitly both.” It is at once a story of a Jewish experience in the 20th century of a particular group. Edmond Safra’s approach to banking, what he did with his life, and what he regarded as the purpose of business was explicitly tied to his Judaism and his particular brand of Judaism.” Not only was Safra an innovative avatar of financial globalization and a faithful heir to a tradition of old-world banking, he was a leading champion and protector of the Sephardic diaspora. Dan sees this book as a “story of a person, a story of a family, a story of some financial institutions, it’s a story about financial globalization, and it’s a story about the Syrian diaspora all in the second half of the 20th century.” Understanding why Dan chose to take on this project and what he admired about Safra says much about who Dan is as a person. Before embarking on this project, Dan knew the Safra name. “My mother is a Syrian Jew from Brooklyn and when you grow up in that community there is a single name that is like a Rothschild, Warren Buffet, and Oscar Schindler rolled into one and that name is Edmond Safra.” Like Safra, Dan traces his heritage back to Aleppo, where his great-grandparents were born. Dan, who studied history at Cornell University and Harvard University, was particularly well suited to write Safra’s story. In addition to being a financial historian, a journalist, and a Syrian Jew, Dan knows Hebrew and Arabic and can muddle through French, Italian, and Portuguese — all of which Safra spoke. In researching Safra’s ancestry in Aleppo databases, Dan found great commonality with his own ancestry. For instance, when looking for the birthday of Safra’s grandfather, Dan found a reference to his own great-grandfather. In fact, in documents and correspondence in Safra’s personal archive, he found references to his own distant family members. The level of Safra’s commitment to the global Halabi community impressed Dan. Safra felt it was his personal responsibility to help Sephardic Jews recreate their sense of community after being forced to leave Syria and Lebanon and routinely responded to requests for financial, personal, and political support. When Safra died, he left over one billion dollars to his foundation, which continued to provide for the Sephardic community. Like Safra, Dan feels an incredible appreciation for the power of the Jewish community and to champion those who need help to thrive in systems where they have not been given equal opportunities. He sees the present – and the future – of the Jewish world as one in which the proud traditions of Ashkenazi and Sephardic Jews coexist and collaborate – as exemplified by our own TCS leadership. Writing this book highlighted to Dan what community means. Of course, communities seek a “space to gather, to meet with your own kind, pray, and be supported.” He notes that he first visited TCS to enroll his daughter in preschool months before moving to Westport, and that the family grew up here – in preschool, Kehillah, and the bat and bar mitzvah program. But it’s also true that “a sense of community isn’t tethered to a physical place.” Jews no longer live in Aleppo. Safra enabled many of them to leave, and to resettle in new homes. Nonetheless, the Halabi spirit and identification remain strong. In America, even 100 years after they began to arrive in this country in large numbers, Syrian Jews generally live in the same Brooklyn neighborhood, summer in the same place in New Jersey, and have winter or retirement homes in Aventura, Florida. Applying this to our own TCS community, Dan noted that Covid and construction have deprived us of a physical building over the last few years but our sense of community goes beyond the walls of a synagogue. It is Ugit ut odis conse et et aut aut aut lantiaectis about feeling connected (virtually or physically) reperumquis seque imus, sunt, quis molupta velland to, and supported by, each other and knowing icianis dunt aut. Gia placcatio ma volore omni. we are part of a larger group. Dan has always felt a deep connection to our TCS community. It has not waned over the last few years. Nonetheless, he looks forward to being together again physically soon. When you see him, take a second to say hello.