Meet the Honorees: Joel Benoliel - Recipient of our Lifetime Community Service Award

Joel Benoliel was born in Seattle and earned both his BA and law degree from the University of Washington. After working as a partner at the Seattle firm MacDonald, Hoague, and Bayless, he later became vice president and general counsel at the privately held Jack A. Benaroya Co. Joel worked in real estate development with Trammell Crow Co. and Spieker Partners, then joined Costco Wholesale Corp., where he led the legal and real estate departments for 22 years. In 2000, Joel co-founded the Sephardic Traditions Foundation with his cousin, Hazzan Isaac Azose. Since then, the foundation has published many prayer books to maintain the liturgical traditions of Sephardic Jews from Turkey and Rhodes. Joel has been a trustee of Seattle Children’s Hospital, is vice chair of the advancement committee for the UW School of Law, and in January 2016 was appointed by Gov. Jay Inslee to serve on the University of Washington Board of Regents, where he served as Vice Chair,Treasurer, and Chair. He is the first Sephardic member of the Board of Regents. Joel also is a member of the UW Sephardic Studies Founders Circle. He received Portuguese citizenship in 2018 under the new 2015 citizenship allowances in Portugal. Joel is married to Maureen (Alhadeff), and they have one son.

Ethan Marcus (EM): Thank you for taking the time to chat. First, tell us about your background — where you grew up and your family’s Sephardic heritage.

Joel Benoliel (JB): I was born in 1945 in Seattle, Washington, and have lived here most of my life except for my time in the U.S. Army. My mother’s family came from Tekirdag, Turkey, in 1924 when my grandfather, Rabbi Abraham Maimon, was brought to Seattle as the first Sephardic rabbi. They spoke Ladino at home, and my uncle, Rabbi Solomon Maimon, became my mentor, taught me for my bar mitzvah, and married my wife and me. 

Growing up in Seattle was very special. I was among all of my uncles and aunts from the Maimon extended family, all the cousins. We all lived within walking distance to the Sephardic Bikur Holim Congregation. 

My father’s family was from Gibraltar, of Spanish Moroccan descent and was a very prominent clan in the cities of Tetuan and Tangier. My great-grandfather Moshe moved to Manchester, England, during the industrial boom, helping found the Spanish and Portuguese synagogue there. My father was born in Manchester in 1905, later moved to Canada, and eventually to Seattle, where he met my mother. 

It’s actually a very interesting story — one of those wonderful “small world” coincidences. While living in Vancouver, he had already brought over his mother and sister from England, and together they eventually immigrated to Seattle. There, he was introduced to the Maimon family, who happened to have an unmarried teenage daughter — my mother. Although there was a ten-year age difference between them, he patiently waited until she was of age. They eventually married, and later moved to Los Angeles for a time.

I’m the youngest of four brothers, plus a younger sister. I went to school and law school in Seattle at the University of Washington, graduating in 1971 before serving in the Army during the Vietnam War, then began my law practice here.

EM: Growing up, what were some of your favorite Sephardic customs and traditions?

JB: Pesah seders were my favorite. My father had no family in the U.S., so my mother’s large Maimon family dominated holidays. We couldn’t all fit in one house, so my mother’s sisters’ families would gather together, with the brothers-in-law from the Azose and Adato families. Among the three sisters, there were 11 boys and 2 girls — I was the youngest, Hazzan Isaac Azose was the oldest. Holidays were full of tradition, moving from house to house in one local neighborhood.

EM: Any Ladino words or phrases you remember from childhood?

JB: My Aunt Fanny Adato’s catchphrase was no se toka (“don’t touch”) — she had a very neat home, and we were all little rascals running around the house. My parents were the only ones of that group who did not speak Ladino as their first language at home. Remember my mother was nine when she came here from Turkey and was educated in Seattle public schools, graduating from Franklin High School in 1934. My father grew up speaking Spanish in Manchester, my mother learned some French in Turkey, and they’d switch between English, Spanish, and French. My Ladino fluency came later, working in my uncle Jack Maimon’s kosher meat market with his partner Marco Calvo from age 16 to 20, where Ladino was spoken with customers.

EM: Describe what it was like to grow up in that strong family environment.

JB: It’s the food, songs, and language. The wonderful memories of sitting around the family table on Shabbat and holidays, singing songs, chanting Birkat Ammazon and Ya Komimos. The truth is we took that environment and the Ladino we had around us for granted. But we’ve still kept in touch with a number of the traditions I grew up with. In 2014, I traveled to Spain to promote citizenship legislation for descendants of expelled Jews. At a dinner with Spanish legislators, we sang Ya Komimos (a consolidated version of the blessing after the meal in Ladino) from our prayer book — they were amazed they could understand it after 550 years. 

I still do remember my mother speaking Ladino with my nona. At Sephardic Bikur Holim, it was traditional for the rabbi to give a sermon in English on the first day of a holiday and in Ladino on the second, but that faded by the mid-to-late 1950s.

EM: You’re receiving the lifetime community service award. Tell us why you got involved in leadership, and specifically about the Sephardic Traditions Foundation.

JB: I was active in synagogue affairs, but about 25 years ago things deepened. While at Costco, I was overseeing a computer refurbishment program. My cousin, Hazzan Isaac Azose, needed a computer for his project — creating a new siddur for our community. I got him a refurbished one, and as software improved, his work accelerated. We created the Sephardic Traditions Foundation to publish the siddur Zahut Yosef, named for my father, and later the Machzor Zekhron Rachel, for my mother, both really the first of their kind Sephardic Siddurim in the Rhodes and Turkish minhag printed in the United States. These books are now used worldwide — I even once walked into the Rhodesli Sephardic synagogue of Johannesburg, South Africa while on a business trip, and found the Zehut Yosef on the shelf. That work made me more aware and proud of preserving our traditions.

EM: Why does Sephardic identity matter to you?

JB: My father grew up in Manchester’s Spanish and Portuguese synagogue, proud of Sephardic heritage. His pride, and his insistence on preserving tradition, stayed with me. He felt a kind of nobility about his Sephardic heritage. I wish he had lived to see the revival work we’ve done.

EM: Shifting gears — you were Chief Legal Officer at Costco. How did you approach your work, and did your Sephardic background influence it?

JB: I’ve been lucky to work with highly ethical people — first with real estate developer and Seattle Sephardic Community member  Jack Benaroya at the Benaroya Company; there was never a more honest, ethical businessman in the world than Jack Benoya, and I took the lessons I learned from watching him to heart as a young lawyer. Then at Costco with founders Jeff Brotman and Jim Sinegal, two extraordinary leaders. They were always employee and customer focused, rather than solely on how much money they could make and take for themselves. And we all did extremely well because of that approach.

At Costco, I oversaw legal and real estate development. Real estate can be an area where corners are cut, but we didn’t. My principles always aligned with the company’s values, and I found incredible professional and personal success in that.

EM: Can you share the “kosher hot dog” story?

JB: Costco inherited two kosher hot dog suppliers after merging with Price Club in 1993. When one stopped producing kosher hot dogs, the fear was relying on a single supplier. Jim Sinegal decided Costco should make its own — the Kirkland Signature hot dog. The debate was whether to call it “kosher,” and this went all the way up to the senior executive team for discussion. Many of them were worried we’d lose customers because they were no longer “kosher.” I argued no, because truly observant customers weren’t buying them — they were sold alongside bacon and cheese items. Sales stayed strong, proving the point.

EM: Any advice for someone entering corporate law or business?

JB: It’s a noble pursuit, though not always as lucrative as private practice. Find a mentor who can teach you the company’s culture and life lessons. Also don’t work in isolation — get noticed. At Costco, many lawyers moved into senior non-legal roles because they built strong reputations with their peers and management.

EM: Finally, what’s your favorite Sephardic food?

JB: A bulema de espinaka — spinach and cheese phyllo — made by Seattle chef Eli Veron. 

EM: Perfect. Thank you so much for your time.

JB: Always a pleasure.