Rabbi Mesmerized Mistress and Murderer

CAMDEN, N.J. October 22, 2001 — His mistress and the man who said he killed for him were both bedazzled by Fred J. Neulander. The Cherry Hill rabbi was smart, articulate and deeply caring - exactly what Elaine Soncini and Len Jenoff said they needed when they encountered him during vulnerable times in their own lives. Neulander, 60, on trial for arranging his wife's murder, listened in court this week as Soncini and Jenoff testified for the prosecutors seeking a conviction and death sentence against the clergyman.

During the time leading up to his wife's 1994 slaying, Neulander became the most important figure in the lives of both those key witnesses. Prosecutors contend Neulander used that power to turn Jenoff into a killer so he could be with Soncini.

The lapse of morality with which Neulander is charged is reminiscent of Elmer Gantry, the fictional fire-and-brimstone Midwestern evangelist who was the namesake of Sinclair Lewis's 1927 novel and a 1960 movie starring Burt Lancaster.

But unlike the preacher who admonished even his followers as hell-bound sinners, it was Neulander's kindness that pulled people to him.

Abuses of power by clergy have happened in all faiths, said Bill Leonard, dean and professor of church history at Wake Forest University Divinity School Winston-Salem.

He said there have been some cases in which people have sought clergy positions seeking power to abuse.

"It's more likely you have people who step in with an intent to help people and then their own dysfunctions kick in," Leonard said.

Part of the feeling of power, he said, comes simply from preaching weekly.

"That suggests to you a mindset that you can do whatever you want," said Leonard, who is an ordained Baptist minister, "and you won't get caught."

Soncini, 53, the perfectly coifed former radio star who testified wearing a brown pants suit, and Jenoff, 56, the gruff-voiced recovering alcoholic who testified wearing an orange jail jumpsuit, come from different worlds. But the rabbi entered them in similar ways.

The rabbi met Soncini on Dec. 11, 1992. He was called by a mutual friend to the deathbed of Soncini's husband, Ken Garland.

Two weeks after the married Neulander helped Soncini bury her husband, the two began an affair.

The rabbi and Jenoff met several months later, also at the request of a third party. Jenoff, a recovering alcoholic, said he was having "Jewish issues."

Neulander called and told the down-on-his-luck private detective to come to the synagogue. In their first meeting, Jenoff said he felt something special.

"Rabbi Neulander is a very charismatic person, a very warm person. He just treated me very warmly," Jenoff said. "I felt like I'd known him for 20 years."

Neulander shared secrets with each of them.

For Soncini, it was a two-year affair. During their trysts - usually at her home - he pulled his car into her garage so no one would notice it.

With Jenoff, it was cigarettes they smoked together behind the temple.

Neulander made both of them feel welcome in the synagogue he led.

Soncini was a lapsed Catholic and Jenoff was a Jew who felt inadequate because he never received a Bar Mitzvah. Both joined Congregation M'kor Shalom, where Neulander was senior rabbi.

Jenoff could not afford the dues to join, so he worshipped as Neulander's guest.

"He became my closest friend as well as my mentor," Jenoff told jurors last week. "He was my rabbi. I'd never had a rabbi I could call 'my rabbi' before."

Soncini remembered holding Neulander's hand and feeling secure during the ceremony when she converted to Judaism.

Jenoff also liked the way Neulander showed him physical affection. "It was not uncommon for us, two men, to greet each other with a hug - or a kiss on the cheek," he said.

Then there was the way Neulander wrote.

"The rabbi was a wonderful writer, so he would write me letters. I'd write him letters. He'd write me poetry, I'd try to write him poetry," Soncini said.

She said she wrote "that I loved him, that he was the world to me. I remember in one poem, I wrote that he was a masterpiece. I thought that he was a tremendous human being."

"He told me that I was the most special woman he had ever met."

A note to Jenoff, who testified about a history of poor self-esteem, included a "crisp $100 bill" to pay a parking ticket. The note read, "Watch where you park next time. We'll talk about this later."

(Copyright 2001 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)

Article continues below

---

advertisement

---

Author: 6 ABC - Action News