After more than four decades with the New School, Jacob Landynski passed away on July 29, 2003. Born in Gateshead, England, on May 6, 1930, he received his bachelor's degree at Brooklyn College in 1958 and his Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins University in 1963, studying under Carl Swisher. His teaching career at the New School began in 1962, and he served for a period as chairman of the political science department. His major work, Search and Seizure and the Supreme Court was published in 1966 by the Johns Hopkins Press. Other works followed. His students and friends valued his contributions to scholarship and his kind and gentle manner. The following are tributes by Michla Pomerance and Louis Fisher.

From Michla Pomerance: I first met Jacob at Brooklyn College, as a fellow student in a course on 20th Century American History, and what I remember most about that course were his contributions to it. In a clipped British accent (which those who did not know Jacob could easily mistake for snobbery), and with a sophistication miles ahead of that of anyone else in the class, he would add a new dimension to just about every subject that was being discussed by the lecturer, Professor Hyman Kublin, or reported on by the students. He was older and far more mature than most of us; he read widely and perceptively even on the most obscure topics; and he never limited himself to examining only one side of any issue. Kublin, quite naturally, treated him more like a colleague than a student. Unknowingly, too, Jacob managed to teach his fellow students something about what true scholarship was and should be about.

Our second, and last, class together was a senior honors seminar in political science, conducted by Martin Landau (who later moved to Berkeley). I do not recall any occasion when Jacob came unprepared to class or unable to participate in it astutely. All of us were treated with great respect (often undeservedly so), but I would venture to say that Landau held Jacob in absolute awe. Their relationship then, and for many years thereafter, was marked by a goodly measure of mutual admiration, despite some considerable divergence in their intellectual approaches to political science.

All during that semester, Jacob seemed intent on pursuing a career in law and would regularly summon very persuasive arguments in order to try to convince everyone else that that would be the only practical course to take and that graduate study would probably be a waste of time. In the end, though, he rightly decided that the enticing offer to study constitutional law at Johns Hopkins under such an eminent scholar as Carl Swisher (and with a generous fellowship) was not one to be lightly refused. Undoubtedly, the high regard in which Professor Samuel Konefsky held Jacob's abilities was a major factor in the decision by Johns Hopkins to court Jacob so avidly.

After graduating from Brooklyn College summa cum laude,with honors and also a special award in political science, Jacob began his studies at Johns Hopkins. Under Swisher's guidance, he made great strides, and his doctoral dissertation on search and seizure, completed so quickly yet comprehensively, became a classic, cited by judges (including the Supreme Court) and scholars throughout the years. Jacob was lucky to land a job at the New School, but the New School was even luckier to have landed Jacob; and I know that they were always well aware of this fact. The tributes that poured forth from students and faculty alike since his passing are only a small reflection of the high esteem in which they held Jacob. Experts in constitutional law can also attest to how highly regarded he was in his field of expertise.

Over the years, I was privileged to have maintained contact with Jacob and to value ever more his criticism, advice, and praise. His praise had always to be earned; it was never false or fulsome, and for that reason, the more to be cherished. His stamp of approval was always the ultimate compliment. His criticism was always well-grounded and constructive; and he offered advice and guidance unstintingly. He reveled, as no other academic I know, in the progress and accomplishments of others. About his own far more impressive achievements he was always humble and never boastful, though he had every right to be. He was too big a person for that.

Jacob's two visits to Israel were memorable occasions. In 1977–1978, he served as a Fulbright exchange scholar and taught a semester-course at the Hebrew University. During that year he was invited to deliver the very prestigious Paley Lectures in American Civilization. (That annual series of lectures had been launched by Robert Frost.) His lectures were well received at the time and were later published as an occasional paper under the title Fundamental Rights and Public Policy in the New Supreme Court. A decade later, in 1987, he participated in the Hebrew University's conference on the bicentennial of the U.S. Constitution, contributing comments on the new rights under the Constitution in his characteristically vibrant, astute, and incisive manner. Beyond that, it was primarily thanks to his constant guidance and occasional intercession that the conference organizers were able to assemble a galaxy of scholars, judges, and practitioners, probably unmatched even in the U.S. itself for any similar conference.

The human landscape has been much impoverished by his passing. We miss him sorely and always will.

From Louis Fisher: I started my graduate work at the New School in 1963, the same year that Jacob Landynski became assistant professor. My odd preparation included a bachelor's degree in chemistry from the College of William and Mary, graduate work in physical chemistry at Johns Hopkins, two years in the Army, and three years of technical writing in New York City. After taking three undergraduate courses in political science at the New School in 1962, to test my interest in the social sciences, I entered the graduate program.

Although only four years older, Landynski seemed established and credentialed, while I was in the midst of changing professional directions. I had many memorable professors at the New School, including Robert Heilbroner, Saul Padover, and Hans Staudinger, but it was Landynski who lit the way toward a lifetime of work in constitutional law, treating it as not merely the outpouring of decisions from the Supreme Court, but, of equal importance, the contributions of Congress, the president, executive agencies, the 50 states, and the general public. This broader framework, reflected in my own work, owes much to Jacob's influence, both as teacher and, as years progressed, a friend.

The text assigned by Landynski for his two-semester course in constitutional law was by Thomas Alpheas Mason and William M. Beaney, first published in 1959. I remember with great fondness Jacob's lectures, delivered while rocking back and forth as though little separated him from his years of rabbinic training. His presentations in the classroom were crisp, precise, and tightly organized, sprinkled with humor whenever appropriate. In addition to analyzing court decisions, we were expected to put them within a social and political context, seeing constitutional values as part of a broad and complex dialogue among democratic institutions. In later years Landynski honored me by assigning my own text, American Constitutional Law, now in its sixth edition with Carolina Academic Press.

After Jacob's death, friends and colleagues recalled what many regarded as his special quality of intellectual humanity. Henry Abraham said that his universe “was being informed by utter kindness, gentleness, and abiding encouragement, blessed by an unswerving commitment to resolute morality and ethics.” All who were privileged to be in Landynski's company will appreciate the accuracy and insight of that description. My most recent work, Military Tribunals and Presidential Power, to be published in 2005, is dedicated to Jacob's memory, as a token of the great esteem in which I hold him.

Among the many letters I received from Landynski, I came upon one of November 17, 1983. Jacob says he received a phone call “from an old friend, Professor Shlomo Slonim of the Department of American Civilization at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, Israel. He asked me whether I knew of any good studies on the legislative veto. It immediately occurred to me that the volume which you edited for the House of Representatives in February, 1980, might be just what the doctor ordered. Would it be possible for you to send him a copy?” Of course I quickly placed the volume in the mail. Through this contact, with Jacob operating as broker, I began a long and rewarding friendship with Shlomo and his wife, Michla Pomerance.