One mom’s battle
Getting the FBI to acknowledge anti Jewish hate in the USA
Spare chair
An elderly gentleman’s long wait in the English village
Welcome to town
Reporter Sarah Lapidus was previously stationed in Alaska
Passover calling Stores and food services to shop and order from
The
of Tucson uplifts diverse crowds
It’s Purim! 15 facts about the holiday, baking hamantashen and making noise
The Jewish outreach and education network of Southern Arizona
2443 E 4th Street, Tucson, AZ 85719
EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR
Rabbi Yossie Shemtov
REBBETZIN
Chanie Shemtov
OUTREACH DIRECTOR
Rabbi Yehuda Ceitlin
PROGRAM DIRECTOR
Feigie Ceitlin
Affiliates:
Congregation Young Israel, Chabad at the University of Arizona, Chabad on River, Chabad of Oro Valley, Chabad of Sierra Vista, Chabad of Vail and Lamplighter Chabad Day School of Tucson
OPINION
Rabbi Moshe Chaim Lau of Netanya, Israel pointed out that if you look a little closer at the story, there really wasn’t much to celebrate as Adar began all those years ago. Haman had brought his plan before King Ahasuerus in the month of Nissan — 11 months before Purim would take place. The king agreed to have the Jews exterminated, and sent out a decree to that effect — that on the 13th of Adar, 11 months later, the Jews throughout the Persian Empire were to be killed.
EDITOR
Rabbi Yehuda Ceitlin
COPY EDITOR
Suzanne Cummins
CONTRIBUTING WRITERS
Feigie Ceitlin, Avi Erbst, Libby Herz, Menachem Posner, Mordechai Schmutter, Benjamin Weiss, Dovid Zaklikowski
PHOTOS
Michael Zaccaria
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Note: “G-d” and “L-rd” are written with a hyphen instead of an “o .”This is one way we accord reverence to the sacred divine name. This also reminds us that, even as we seek G-d, He transcends any human effort to describe His reality.
Peering out at an uncertain future can be overwhelming. We see superpowers clashing their daggers as war continues to rage. Inflation is soaring amid the financial crisis, and many don’t see a path to homeownership or financial stability. Hateful rhetoric is again on the rise. It can seem like there isn’t much to be happy about, and many of us suffer anxiety over what the future might hold.
The month of Adar — the happiest month in Judaism — has begun, and it brings a powerful lesson in joy despite everything. The Talmud (Taanit 29a) states that “when the month of Adar begins, one increases rejoicing.” Of course, this is attributed to the holiday of Purim when we celebrate the salvation of the Jewish people in Ancient Persia from a plot to annihilate all Jews living in 127 countries, extending from India to Ethiopia.
As related in the Book of Esther, after the decree, Queen Esther invited the king and Haman to a private feast, where she revealed her Jewish identity, showed support for the king, and denounced Haman. 72 hours after his plot, Haman was hanging on the gallows he had planned to use for his archnemesis, Mordechai, the Jewish leader.
But the plot remained.
Persian law at the time did not allow for the repealing of the king’s decree. The best Ahasuerus could do was to send out another decree: that the Jews were permitted to defend themselves from their antisemitic neighbors. For eleven months, both sides prepared for battle. As the month of Adar began, the fate of the Jewish People was far from certain. Haman had been hanged, but thousands of virulent Jew-haters were sharpening their weapons and training for the day when the
king had decreed that they could kill the Jews.
The miracle of Purim continued to unfold. The Jews won the battle against their enemies on the 13th of Adar (and on the 14th as well in the capital of Shushan, a hotbed of antisemites) — and a holiday was born. When Adar concluded, there was reason to be joyful.
But the Talmud does not tell us to wait for our victory in Shushan to be joyful. Instead, we are told that when Adar enters — as we are remembering the existential threat that hung over our ancestors — we must be joyful even then.
It’s easy to be happy when you know you’ve won. What’s challenging — what we need to be encouraged to do — is to be happy when the future is in doubt.
Today, we may once again feel that our future is in doubt. And yet, we are joyful. We are joyful because we have faith that just as G-d redeemed us from impossible situation after impossible situation for millennia, He will do so once again.
So don’t wait for everything to be going right to celebrate — celebrate because you have faith that it will.
On Facebook, people are starting to share and accumulate recipes for Passover - and we haven’t even celebrated Purim yet. Passover is six weeks away, but people are already planning their Seder menus. I should not have been surprised.
One of the most important aspects of Passover is the food, which is steeped in tradition and symbolism. Jewish families spend weeks preparing for the holiday by shopping. And in places like Tucson, that can involve some hunting!
The Kosher L’Pesach, or KLP (Kosher for Passover) scene in Tucson isn’t as abundant as in New York, where I’m originally from. Still, we do have a wonderful selection if you know where to look.
The Jewish community in Tucson has established meaningful relationships with managers of local stores such as Safeway, Fry’s and Bashas’. Those stores have been very receptive to our requests for items and have worked diligently to continuously improve the selection year after year as new products hit the market.
Stores like Al Basha Grocery, a locallyowned shop specializing in Middle Eastern and African food, have gone to great lengths to carry kosher-certified products for the convenience of the Jewish community.
Many of the major chain stores will have kosher sections with basic Passover items. The store listed below have larger than usual displays with more variety:
∙ Safeway – 4752 E Sunrise Dr, 85718
∙ Fry’s - 2480 N Swan Rd, Tucson, 85712
∙ Fry’s – 7812 E Speedway Blvd, 85710
∙ Bashas’ – 3275 N Swan Rd, 85712
∙ AJ’s Fine Foods – 2805 E Skyline Dr, 85718
∙ Al Basha – 4145 E Grant Rd, 85712
Budgeting is an issue as people start to do their Passover shopping. It is difficult to avoid the higher cost of staple items such as eggs, potatoes, chicken and meat, which have all seen significant price increases in the past year. But shoppers may also find the items for Passover – matzah, wine, gefilte fish, horseradish, matzah meal and
snacks – are even more inflated. And might sell out early.
During non-holiday periods, my family and I generally stick to a shopping list to eliminate the excess and stick to the items we need. But it is not too early (as the Facebook trend indicates) to keep a Passover list in our pockets to pick up the non-perishables as we find them.
The good news is the supply chain issues from the last few years seem to have corrected themselves. The manager of the Safeway on Swan/Sunrise, which carries the largest selection of Passover items, told me he believes his delivery and shelves should be fully stocked by the beginning of March.
By the way, we should all thank local stores for carrying Passover goods. By doing so, we can show our appreciation and encourage these businesses to continue offering these products in the future. And share a picture of your finds in the “Kosher in Tucson” Facebook group, as it helps others be more efficient in their shopping
adventures.
For those who cannot find all their Passover needs locally, there is a delivery option from Western Kosher, a kosher supermarket in Los Angeles. The order for Passover items is due on March 9, with delivery to Tucson on Thursday, March 16. For more information, contact me at 646-523-5416.
As in past years, Chabad Tucson runs a pop-up kosher catering service to provide Seder meals for individuals and large groups. For the menu and more information, email: Feigie@ChabadTucson.com. In addition, Handmaker Jewish Services for the Aging offers Seder meals and food throughout Passover. To order, call 520322-7009 or visit Handmaker.org. Both of these services are certified by Rabbi Yossie Shemtov.
- Avi Erbst is the Owner/Broker of Cordova Realty and co-admin of the Facebook group Kosher in Tucson.
Chabad Rebbetzins from Southern Arizona attended the International Conference of Chabad-Lubavitch Women Emissaries on February 10, 2023 at Chabad-Lubavitch World Headquarters - 770 Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn, NY * Photo: Shalom Burkis
Benny Goodman was legendary for his jazz clarinet and for bringing the crowd to their feet to dance. But underneath that amazing clarinet, hiding under the surface of the jazz innovation of the 1930s, was the sound of uniquely Jewish Klezmer music. It came out of the closet occasionally (like when the Andrews Sisters recorded Bei Mir Bistu Shein -To Me You Are Beautiful–in 1942), but many do not know of the connection between Goodman’s clarinet, jazz music of the 30s and 40s, and Eastern European Jewish Klezmer music.
Now Klezmer is making a resurgence with an open Jewish identity. A klezmer band in Tucson is leading the local charge.
“Klezmer gets people up and dancing and having fun,” says Mark Ross of
Klezmerkaba. “Audience members come up to us with tears in their eyes. They say they haven’t heard this music since they were children. It’s special when we hear that.”
Klezmer music reflects Jewish migration experience and incorporates joyous, heartfelt melodies originating from Greece, Eastern Europe, and Spain. Klezmer also incorporates many soulful Chassidic tunes, too, which reflect deep spirituality and love of G-d.
Ross, the clarinetist, has played the clarinet since he was ten years old. But in 2008, he became hooked on Klezmer after attending a performance by the famous Klezmer clarinetist Giora Feidman. Inspired, Ross bought Feidman’s Klezmer
music book and began taking Klezmer clarinet lessons from a Jewish music teacher. “I felt very pulled by it,” he says. So much so that he decided to form a Klezmer band right in Tucson.
The musician began making inquiries among his musician friends to find others who might be interested. “At the time, they were all Jewish, but even non-Jews appreciated the music and ultimately joined us,” he says of his fellow Tucson musical friends. Eventually, a well-rounded group of musicians found their way to each other. The group consisted of an accordion, tuba, trumpet, and more. They got together and played out of Feidman’s Klezmer music book. Over time, Ross had time to research other Klezmer music, and the band’s repertoire has grown.
Fifteen years since its inception, Klezmerkaba is growing stronger and making waves on the Tucson music scene. The band consists of a dozen members who are having the time of their lives. “We play for fun,” says Ross, “so that’s the beauty. It creates camaraderie.”
Members of Klezmerkaba, in addition to Ross, include Elaine Andaloro (accordion), Scott Esbit (drums), Nathan Frankenberg (guitar), Trudy Haggard (keyboard and piano), Alan Honeker (tuba), Rabbi Daniel Price (bass guitar), Mark Poarch (trumpet), Michael Schwartz (vocal, drums), David Seigel (clarinet and alto saxophone), Lisa Seigel (flute), and Jessica Slade (trombone).
“One of the things I like best about
Tucson’sKlezmerkaba band uplifts with music
“out of the Shtetl”Photo: Michael Zaccaria
Klezmer is how interactive with the audience it is,” says Lisa Siegel, the group’s flutist. “It is a joy to see audience members get into the music, first by clapping along to the beat, and then, little by little, feeling moved and uninhibited enough to get up and join the circle dancing that almost always seems to spontaneously form when we play one of our happy freilachs (joyous dance tunes).”
Klezmerkaba plays at numerous Tucson events including the Tucson Book Festival, Tucson Meet Yourself, and the Tucson Folk Festival. They have played at the Tucson Botanical Gardens, Reid Park, The Hut, and at various synagogues and private functions. The group selects the tunes most appropriate for each event from their repertoire of over fifty songs. “It’s nice to play for Jewish organizations in Tucson,” Ross says.
People often ask the group about their unique band name. “The name Klezmerkaba,” explains Ross, “is a mashup of the words Klezmer - the music form, and Merkaba - the Chariot of G-d and a three-dimensional Jewish star, the band’s logo.”
What can speak but has no words? Music. Music can speak and evoke feelings in ways that words cannot.
Klezmerkaba, Tucson’s premier Klezmer ensemble led by Mark Ross.
The origins of the term ‘Klezmer’ is in itself a combination of the Hebrew words “kley” (vessel) and “zemer” (melody). These terms refer to musical instruments used in ancient times. Decked out in traditional attire of Russian Kasket hats and black vests, the Klezmerkaba troop definitely gives off a European-Jewish vibe. “We look like we’re coming out of the Shtetl,” Ross laughs.
The performer is particularly thankful for every minute he spent practicing the clarinet because it led him to make so many musician friends and to find his Klezmerkaba mates who give him such joy. “Once,” he recalls, “my father told me the proudest day of his life was the time I publicly thanked him for making me practice the clarinet.”
Klezmer music is the perfect vehicle to get people in the joyous Purim spirit. “There are many forms of music that are performance-oriented,” Ross says. “People tap their foot, but it doesn’t have the same energy. Klezmer music is high energy. It gets you dancing.”
Perhaps you can recall the feeling from the first concert you went to, or from when you discovered an angsty band that blew your mind and made you feel like it changed your life . . . or at least it gave you a soundtrack that, when you hear it today, brings you back to those earlier experiences.
Next month, Chabad centers in Southern Arizona will be presenting “The Sound of the Soul,” an experiential learning experience combining stirring music, fascinating narratives, and motivational messages.
The ninety-minute program will take place on Sunday, April 2, at 4:00 PM at The Loft Cinema - 3233 E Speedway Blvd.
The program will be centered around niggunim, or Chasidic melodies, which is the beat behind the wisdom and inspiration of Chasidic mystical Jewish thought. Each song is packed with nuance, depth, and history that will inform the mind and speak to the heart. As Rabbi Shneur Zalman, founder of Chabad Chasidic philosophy, taught: “Music is the pen of the soul.”
The on-screen and off-screen production will include two songs that will be performed live on stage by
Rabbi Yossie Shemtov, Executive Director of Chabad Tucson, is enthusiastic about the music in this program. “These Chassidic melodies tell a soul-stirring story about life’s purpose and what truly matters in this world. There is so much that can be learned from these moving tunes and I look forward to sharing these transformative teachings.”
He said participants will listen to the story of their soul in its own words, to the feelings—of love or longing, of devotion or despair—that express the complicated relationship between a spiritual soul and a material world. “Come with an open mind, an open heart, and be ready to have a great time,” he recommended.
The program was developed by the acclaimed Rohr Jewish Learning Institute (JLI) and is presented by Chabad Tucson, Chabad at the University of Arizona, Chabad on River, Chabad of Oro Valley, Chabad of Casa Grande, Chabad of Vail and Chabad of Sierra Vista. The event is open to the wider public and is designed to appeal to people at all levels of knowledge, including those without prior experience or background in Jewish learning.
More information and reservations are at ChabadTucson.com/Sound
The jolly festival of Purim is celebrated every year on the 14th of the Hebrew month of Adar. Purim 2023 begins Monday night, March 6, and continues through Tuesday, March 7.
Purim commemorates the salvation of the Jewish people in ancient Persia from Haman’s plot “to destroy, kill, and annihilate all the Jews, young and old, infants, and women, in a single day.”
Purim means “lots” in ancient Persian. The holiday was thus named since the evil Haman had thrown lots to determine when he would carry out his diabolical scheme. You can pronounce the name of the holiday
By Menachem Posnerin many ways. In Eastern tradition, it is called poo-REEM. Among Westerners, it is often called PUH-rim. Some CentralEuropean communities even call it PEErim. (Calling it PYOO-rim—as English speakers are sometimes wont to do—is a surefire newbie cover-blower.)
Mordechai was the leader of the Jewish people in Persia, and Esther was his cousin. Mordechai refused to bow down to Haman, a high-level court official in Persia, in defiance that was brave and principled. Esther was forced into being made queen of Persia after the king selected her because of her beauty. But she then bravely used her access to the king to intercede on behalf of the Jewish people — putting her own life
on the line. The story of their heroism is recorded in the Book of Esther.
Per Esther’s request, the events were written in a scroll to be read every year on Purim. This scroll, called the Megillah (Book of Esther), was one of the final books to be canonized in the Tanach (Hebrew Bible). A genuine Megillah must be written by a scribe on parchment—a painstaking process that takes several days or weeks to complete.
Purim is celebrated by observing the following four rituals:
1. Reading the Megillah which recounts the story of the Purim miracle. This is done once on the eve of Purim and again the following day.
2. Giving monetary gifts to at least two poor people, called in Hebrew Mataot La’evyonim.
3. Sending gifts of two kinds of food to at least one person, called in Hebrew Mishloach Manot.
4. Making or attending a festive Purim feast (Seudat Purim), which often includes wine or other intoxicating beverages.
6. We Spin “Groggers” on Purim
Groggers are spinning noisemakers (ratchets) used to drown out Haman’s name during the Megillah reading. Since every word must be heard clearly, the reader repeats the name after the racket has died
done
down. Although traditionally made of wood, groggers can be made of tin, plastic, or anything else. In a pinch, they can be substituted by pounding on the table, stamping one’s feet, or even shaking one’s to make loud and interruptive noise.
The sages of the Talmud assert that “a person is obligated to drink on Purim until he does not know the difference between ‘blessed is Mordechai and cursed is Haman.’” Obviously, this does not apply to anyone who may become ill or act totally inappropriately when intoxicated.
On the day before Purim (or on the Thursday before, when Purim is on Sunday), it is customary to fast, commemorating Esther’s fasting and praying to G-d that He save His people. In Tucson, the fast begins at 5:30 AM on Monday, March 6, and concludes at 6:52 PM.
G-d’s involvement in the Purim miracle was hidden; it appeared as if our people’s salvation came by way of natural means. Indeed, the day is celebrated with delicacies where the delicious filling is at least somewhat concealed inside dough. Classic hamantaschen are a sweet threecornered pastry filled with poppy seeds or jam, and kreplach, a noodle dough filled with meat. Kreplach are traditionally cooked and served in chicken soup at the festive meal.
People traditionally dress up on Purim, wear masks, or otherwise make themselves look somewhat unusual. Like the “hidden” treats mentioned above, many say that concealing ourselves behind a costume reflects the way G-d operated behind a cloak of natural events.
In keeping with the over-the-top atmosphere of the day, people (especially
learned Jews) share “Purim Torah,” in which silliness and scholarship mesh into a dizzying blend of witty (and sometimes absurd) exegeses.
Purim is observed on Adar 14, when the Jews rested after trouncing their enemies in battle. In Persia’s capital city of Shushan, there were so many bad guys that it took another day of fighting to ensure their safety, so they rested on the following day, Adar 15. Since Shushan was walled, it was declared that all walled metropolises (chiefly, but not only, Jerusalem) would celebrate on that later date. This second Purim is known as “Shushan Purim.”
Purim is celebrated on Adar 14, and Passover starts on Nissan 15. In a Jewish leap year, there are two Adars, making for a total of 13 months. In those years, Purim is celebrated during the second Adar, so it is close to Passover. This is so that the miraculous salvation of Purim is as close as possible to the miracle of the Exodus, commemorated on Passover.
14.
In the early 1950s, Soviet Union dictator Joseph Stalin, the ruthless butcher of millions of innocent people, had bloody plans for dealing with the “Jewish problem” in the U.S.S.R. Just as things were reaching a crisis point in 1953, he suddenly fell ill and died. His illness began... on Purim!
15.
In 1990, Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein of Iraq defiantly invaded nearby Kuwait. As pressure ramped up from the international community, his army began firing SCUD missiles into the Holy Land of Israel. The Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, repeatedly assured the people of Israel that they would be protected. After the U.S.-led forces attacked Iraq, they were quickly victorious and the hostilities ended... on Purim!
Sarah Lapidus was born in San Fransisco, California. After graduating from Michigan State University (MSU), she traveled to Beijing, China where she taught art and handled marketing for a tech company. Upon her return to the U.S., she studied journalism at City College of San Francisco. She now covers rural communities in southern Arizona for The Arizona Republic.
Moving to Tucson: I moved to Tucson in March. I came here from living on Kodiak Island on the south coast of Alaska and I do miss it. But I’m loving Tucson. The people I have met here have been so kind and genuine, and the access to nature is incredible.
Currently reading/learning: Reading the novel Caramelo by Sandra Cisneros, and trying to learn how to play the ukulele.
Favorite Mitzvah/holiday: My parents would always take me to volunteer at soup kitchens on Christmas.
LOCALIt is a tradition I have continued into adulthood. My favorite holiday is Simchat Torah because I love dancing.
Cherished Jewish memory: Going with my father to services on Shabbat. I remember the comfort I felt being next to him. Sadly, he died when I was young, but I still feel his warmth and love for the Jewish community.
Jewish app on phone: Can you recommend one?
Go-to Yiddish or Hebrew word: Oy vey (Yiddish for oh no). I use it to express exasperation or when someone is doing something crazy. My roommate in college (not even Jewish) started saying it because she’d been hearing it from me so much.
Historical Jewish figure: I’m not well-versed in Jewish historical figures, but I learned about Golda Meir when I was younger. I also look up to more
recent figures like Gloria Steinem.
Chabad:
I heard the Chabad Rabbi in Beijing once saying, “Just because I pray more than you, does not mean I’m a better Jew than you are. It just means I’m more observant. A Jew’s definition is measured by the soul, so we’re all equal.” I think that defines Chabad.
Tzedakah: I live my life trying to be kind to others and trying to be understanding of other people’s situations.
Happiness: Being in nature and around my friends.
Hobbies: Hiking, reading, dancing, building community.
Comfort food: My mother’s sopa de fideo, which is a recipe passed down to her from her Mexican
grandmother. It’s a soup with a tomato base, meat and noodles. It also includes sliced plantains which sounds odd but is absolutely delicious.
Kvetch:
My only complaint about Tucson, besides the number of accidents I see on a daily basis, is a need for more salsa dancing events.
Kvell:
I’m proud of continuing to be a journalist despite how challenging it can be at times.
Claim to fame:
Making best friends wherever I go. I’ve lived in Colombia, France, China and many states in the U.S., and in every place, I make a best friend. The list is very long.
Looking forward to...
I’m really excited to get to know Southern Arizona communities and tell all the untold stories that need to be written about them.
By Feigie Ceitlin
INGREDIENTS:
2 eggs
¾ c sugar
½ c oil
2 tsp baking powder
3 c flour
¼ c orange juice
Jam or filling of your choice
DIRECTIONS:
Mix all ingredients into a dough
Divide dough into 4 parts
Roll out in a flat circle about 1/8’’ thick Use round cookie cutter or glass cup to make circle shapes
On each circle, place 1/2 tablespoon of the filling in the middle
Fold dough together into a triangle shape Bake at 350 degrees for 12 minutes (or until light browning)
*
The blessing: Mezonot
Baruch atah A-donay, Elo-heinu Melech Ha’Olam borei minei mezonot. Blessed are you L-rd our G-d, King of the Universe, Who creates various kinds of sustenance.
Enjoy!
It is hard to stop Devorah Halberstam. Literally. When she enters a room, it feels like a storm has arrived. When she speaks, her words are quick and strong. The New York Jewish activist is referred to as a powerhouse by those who know her. But when she arrives at the ramp from the FDR Drive to the Brooklyn Bridge, she always stops.
She then pays attention to one of the 13 road signs that announce The Ari Halberstam Memorial Ramp. They commemorate the killing of her 16-year-old son on March 1, 1994.
On that fateful day, Lebanese-born terrorist Rashid Baz had intended to open fire at the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—but could not get close enough to the vehicle. Instead, he shot a van filled with Chabad yeshiva students who were part of the entourage. While three wounded students —including one with a bullet lodged in his brain— recovered, Ari Halberstam succumbed to his wounds five days later (23 Adar).
“Every time I see the signs, my heart stops,” says Ari’s mother. “I think to myself, ‘Ari, your blood is on this bridge.’”
Close to three decades later, Halberstam still advocates the importance of the signs. She is as adamant as she was back in 1995 when the signs were passed into law in a unanimous New York City Council vote. Kenneth Fisher, who served as a councilman at the time, told the New York Times: “It was [a] real statement by the Council and by the mayor that this was not simply a case of road rage. [Halberstam] was a very effective advocate for the notion that her son’s murder should be recognized for the hate crime it was.”
Halberstam says that the signs are more relevant than ever in our age of instant information and growing antisemitism.
“What happened on that day on the bridge is a symbol of antisemitism in the United States,” she explains. When people see the sign, “they Google it, and they learn what our society is capable of. It promotes that this cannot happen again.”
The shooting wasn’t always seen as an anti-Jewish crime. Halberstam fought for six years to have the shooting of her son classified as a terrorist incident by the Department of Justice and FBI. She also brought the first lawsuit in the history of American jurisprudence against the manufacturer of machine guns sold in gun kits.
Her tireless lobbying made her a prominent voice against terrorism in the United States. Together with Governor George Pataki, she was instrumental in enacting the Anti-Terrorism Act of 2001, the first of its kind in New York State. She was also appointed by the governor to serve on the first New York State Commission on Terrorism.
Halberstam today serves as Chair of the Civilian Hate Crimes Review Panel of the New York City Police Department and an Honorary Commissioner for Community Safety. She frequently instructs local,
state, and federal law enforcement agencies around the country, including the FBI, NYPD, state troopers, the military, and district attorneys, on the threat of terrorism. “Halberstam is a true example of the strength of our nation,” former U.S. Attorney General Michael Mukasey has said.
Joseph Demarest, who served as an assistant director of the FBI, praised Halberstam as a true fighter against terrorism. “A woman who has demonstrated an endless pursuit of justice, everlasting love for her family, dedication for victim’s rights, and patriotism for her country,” he said during an award ceremony.
As a Chassidic woman living in Brooklyn, she says her work to fight hate and antisemitism never ends.
Hate against minorities in this country is often targeted against the Jewish community, she says, and it breeds because antisemites are given a platform, whether it is coming from celebrities, sports figures,
or others. “We need to shout out against it at every opportunity,” Halberstam says.
People who speak up against Jews, she says, “or any other ethnicity should be ostracized, rather than being accepted. Words matter and promoting hate will lead to bad things.”
One of the ways Halberstam is working to foster understanding and tolerance is visible following her stop on the Brooklyn Bridge. Once she concludes reciting a chapter of Tehillim (Psalms) in memory of her son and turns off her hazard lights, she drives to The Jewish Children’s Museum in Crown Heights, which is dedicated to her son.
Created in partnership with city, state and federal agencies and supporters, the museum is the largest Jewish-themed children’s museum in the United States. Located near 770 Eastern Parkway, the headquarters of the ChabadLubavitch movement, it is an interactive 50,000-square-foot facility that offers a positive perspective and awareness of
Jewish heritage.
“While there is a need to remember the Jews who were murdered throughout our history, it is tragic to see how few monuments are built in their memories,” she explained. “Jewish education, Jewish identity, and Jewish pride are the antidotes to antisemitism.”
“When a child comes to the museum,” she says, “they learn how Jewish history has formed over thousands of years. They understand that our culture is made up of traditions that are our inheritance. We teach them about our holidays, our dress, and our way of life.”
Looking back over the nearly two decades the museum has been open, “I could never have envisioned the impact that it has made,” she says. To date, over 3 million visitors have come to the museum, many of them non-Jewish. She is now embarking on adding an additional floor that will be called Ari’s Exhibit, “Sharing our past, shaping our future,” which she hopes will attract even more children and visitors.
The activist likes to say that she is a
Yankee fan through and through. Her father taught her to study, pray and be serious in her service of Hashem. “But, you also need to have fun. You play baseball, keep up with the news and wake up in the morning to 1010 WINS on the radio.”
She says her son Ari, the eldest of five children, had similar traits. “He was a good learner and spent many extra hours praying,” she says. “He was very spirited, he loved sports and wore a size 13.5 sneaker. He was humble to a fault and was also very competitive; he was a great kid,” she says.
When she talks about her son, almost three decades later after his murder, it triggers a flow of tears. “As a Jew, our response to tragedy is to build,” she says, adding that walking through the halls of the museum brings her “a huge sense of nachas” (pride and joy). But on top of that, “I feel like every visitor to the museum leaves with a piece of Ari. Ari lives on in this museum,” she says.
- Dovid Zaklikowski is an author, biographer, and archivist. His books can be found at HasidicArchives.com
By Menachem Posner
Yitzchak, a Chassidic Jew from London’s Stamford Hill neighborhood, frequently took business trips to the countryside in northern England. No matter how far he traveled, though, he was careful to always return home in time for Shabbat—except for one Friday...
On that Friday morning in the late 1950s, engine trouble forced Yitzchak off the road as he was returning home for Shabbat.
In the service station waiting for his car to be repaired, he glanced at his watch frequently, wishing that the watch’s hands would move just a little bit slower and the mechanic’s hands would move just a little bit faster.
After several hours, Yitzchak’s car was up and running, but it was clear that he would not have time to return to London for Shabbat.
With little time to spare, Yitzchak drove to the nearest village, checked into a local hotel and made inquiries about the closest synagogue. To his delight, there was an old synagogue in town.
The building had been constructed in grand style, but now it had a neglected appearance. As the sun sunk in the west, a handful of worshippers trickled into the
building.
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Yitzchak was approached by an elderly gentleman named Yankel Frankinowitz. Sporting a full beard and speaking fluent Yiddish.
“Would you be so kind as to be my Shabbat guest?” asked the older man. Upon hearing Yitzchak’s positive reply, the man broke into a broad grin.
They walked in silence until they reached the old man’s home—a crumbling old house with a faint light emanating through the grimy windows of one of the rooms.
As Mr. Frankinowitz ascended the stairs to his home, he started wheezing and coughing incessantly. But the old man dismissed his younger guest’s concern. “Don’t be alarmed,” he said in Yiddish, “It’s just a bit of asthma. It happens to me all the time.”
As they entered the dining room, Yitzchak was surprised to see that the table was set for two. “How did he know that I would be coming?” he wondered.
As if he read Yitzchak’s thoughts, Mr. Frankinowitz said: “I’m always ready for a guest to join me for Shabbat, and I set an extra setting just in case.”
The food was under-seasoned and overcooked, but the atmosphere at that Shabbat meal was outstanding. At one point, Yitzchak noticed his host’s well-worn but still-beautiful Chumash [Five Books of Moses] from which he was reading and translating the weekly Torah portion.
“Ah yes,” said the old man with delight. “It belonged to my grandfather, as did the Siddur [prayer book] that I use in synagogue. It has endured decades of heavy use, but it’s still as good as new, if not better!”
Yitzhak stayed over that night in response to Mr. Frankinowitz’s desire to offer hachnasat orchim [hospitality]. His host coughed a great deal in the night.
The following morning was even colder, and Yitzchak begged his host to stay home rather than walk the long way to and from synagogue. But the old man would hear none of it.
Between their long walks to synagogue that Shabbat, and even longer meals,
the two men developed a fast but deep connection, and the elderly Mr. Frankinowitz shared his story.
“I was born in Russia and still remember those terrible times—the pogroms, the hunger and the fear.
“When I was seven, we left for England and settled here. My parents passed away not long after, and my grandparents took me in. They were the pillars of the community, and with their dedication, a synagogue was built here.
“My grandparents were always hosting travelers in their home. They never took a penny for their services, happy to provide fellow Jews with kosher food and a warm bed.
“The younger generation grew up and moved away, attracted by the opportunities that the bigger cities like Manchester and London offered them.
“The Jewish community dwindled, and my wife and I wanted to move to a town where there would be other Jews like us, who valued Torah and mitzvah observance, but my grandfather was adamant. We were needed here.
“Before he passed away, my grandfather again asked me to remain here. ‘There will come a time,’ he told me, ‘that a Jewish traveler will come through town needing a place to eat. Then you will know why you are so needed here. Who would be there to serve them if not you?’
“And so I remained here for a Jewish traveler who might be in need of a kosher home,” the man concluded simply.
Yitzchak then understood that he was the guest for whom his host had waited for decades.
As the old man broke into another coughing fit, Yitzchak’s eyes glazed over
with pitying tears.
After regaining his breath, the old man continued. “Please don’t feel bad for me. Your visit has given me so much pleasure; it has given meaning to all the years of waiting, proving my grandfather’s words to be true. The circle is now complete.”
With Shabbat concluding, they shook hands warmly before Yitzchak drove off into the night. Yitzchak promised that he’d return, claiming that he had more business in the area. The truth was that he wanted to come back with a gift for the old man who had been so kind.
When he came back to the sleepy hamlet later that week, Yitzchak climbed the steps to Mr. Frankinowitz’s old home and knocked on the door. Once, twice, three times—silence. Fearing the worst, he sped off to the synagogue, where he was informed that Mr. Frankinowitz had passed away on Sunday morning.
“He came to services as usual, started coughing, and then he was gone,” said the caretaker.
“Wait a minute,” continued the caretaker. “Are you the guest who was here on Shabbat? Mr. Frankinowitz left you something. I found it on his table when I went to his house to put his belongings in order.”
It was a neatly wrapped package with a note. Written in Yiddish, it expressed Mr. Frankinowitz’s gratitude at being able to finally fulfill the mitzvah of hosting guests, and it stated that the enclosed Chumash and Siddur were a token of his appreciation and an expression of his hope that Yitzchak would raise his children in the spirit of Torah and mitzvah observance.”
Upon learning that the old man left no relatives, Yitzchak took it upon himself to say kaddish for him.
And from then on, Yitzchak’s family adopted the peculiar custom of always setting an extra seat at the Shabbat table, ready to be used by anyone in need of a warm meal.
They say that part of what has kept Yiddishkeit (Judaism) going for all these generations is that it gives every social deviant some kind of release. Think about it: Passover is for adults with OCD and kids who love asking why, Tisha B’av is for people who want to bring beach chairs to Shul, Yom Kippur is for people obsessed with dieting, Rosh Hashanah is for people with a major sweet tooth to the extent that even their fruits need honey, Shavuos is for insomniacs, and Purim is for people who like to make noise.
In fact, hearing Haman’s name is the reason most little kids show up on Purim. We get to make lots of noise every time we hear Haman’s name because we want to blot him out. After all, Haman was the one who plotted the wholesale murder of our people, which is bad news even though it has the word “wholesale” in it.
Kids love making noise in Shul. They come to Shul with their costume and their groggers and their Megillah (Book of Esther) made out of coloring pages in a Pringles can, all excited for legalized Shul shrieking. Unfortunately, they then have to sit around for the first two chapters (Haman shows up late to his own story)
until they totally forget why they’re there, and the first Haman totally takes them by surprise.
“What? Oh.”
A lot of these kids show up with groggers they made in school, where you put raw beans between two paper plates stapled together. This is why beans are called “the musical fruit.” Probably.
But the thing about those groggers is that the beans keep moving. You can’t touch the grogger without it making noise. The teachers don’t really think this through. A parent has to convince the kid to put the grogger on the table and not touch it for two whole chapters. Or they have to hold his arm steady, so he doesn’t accidentally shake it until Haman shows up. And you can’t tell him why because we’re not allowed to talk while reading the Megillah.
That’s always been the challenge: We have to make noise during Haman, but we can’t talk during the reading. We have to get creative. How do you make noise without saying anything? Can I say “Boo”? I’ve definitely heard some people saying “Boo” during Haman. The jeering kind of boo, not
like the kind where you’re trying to scare someone.
But that’s not really the challenge. The challenge is that every year I have to wait for Haman to blow my nose.
Okay, that sounded weird. Haman’s not blowing my nose. What I meant was that every year right after the reading starts, I realize that I really need a tissue, but I also don’t want to make noise. So I have to wait until everyone bangs for Haman and try to time my nose-blowing. Which means I blow harder, which means it is loud. But in the meantime, I’m holding back sneezing until Chapter 3 while trying to hold my kid’s grogger steady so it doesn’t rattle.
Sure, some people use those big, classic, wooden groggers. You know – the ones that weigh 15 pounds and you spin them over your head and knock out your neighbor who stands for the reading? There are a lot of cheap plastic knockoffs of this, but to be considered a Classic grogger, you have to not be allowed to bring it on an airplane. It’s the kind of thing that under normal circumstances, your mother would yell at you for playing within the house. Which I guess is the rule for almost anything that
you can use as a grogger.
Why is that the classic grogger? I have no idea. Those things are actually weapons!
Probably in the old days, when the antisemites heard us blotting out Haman’s name, they got upset. So they marched into Shul, but when they saw us all holding those big, heavy things, they ran off.
Okay, so in the old days, everyone used to stomp during Haman. At least I assume so because that’s what all older people I’ve seen seem to do. I guess that’s how they grew up. And their parents were like, “This is too noisy. When I was growing up, everyone used to just frown.”
Nowadays, there seems to be this ongoing contest about who can make the loudest noise during Haman. If you sit next to an outlet, your possibilities are endless. Like, you can bring in a blender. By the end of the Megillah, if you do this efficiently, you can have smoothies for everyone. Bring some alcohol, and you have cocktails to get the party started.
Since I don’t handle liquor that well, I think I’ll stick to the nose-blowing thing.
1. Who wrote the synagogue hymn Adon Olam?
A. King David
2. Irving Berlin
3. Rabbi Yehudah Halevi
4. The composer is unknown
2. What are zemirot?
A. Yemenite wedding tunes
B. Flutes played at funerals and weddings
C. Songs, especially those sung at the Shabbat table
D. Wordless Chassidic melodies
3. What is the well-known source of Oseh Shalom Bimromav?
A. Kaddish
B. Kiddush
C. Kedushah
D. None of the above
4. What is the source for the lyrics for Siman Tov Umazal Tov?
A. The Cantorial School of Bavaria and Bessarabia
B. The Book of Genesis
C. The Blessing of the Moon
D. Klezmer composers in 19th-century
New York
5. What is the meaning of Avinu Malkeinu?
A. “We sinned and we regret”
B. “Good and sweet New Year”
C. “Our father, our king”
D. “We shall never forget”
6. Who wrote the Chanukah song Maoz Tzur?
A. Mordechai, whose identity is unknown
B. Unnamed sages of the Talmud
C. Matityahu (father of Judah the Maccabee)
D. Yannai (6th century poet)
7. What is the significance of a dreidel made specifically of clay?
A. The Greeks made the Jews dig pits of tar
B. Our ancestors were too poor to afford wood or metal
C. Clay becomes hard through extreme heat
D. Nothing, it rhymes with “play”
8. The song Mishe’nichnas Adar (When Adar begins, we increase our joy) is based on:
A. The Book of Esther
B. Talmud Ta’anis
C. Talmud Megillah
D. Composition of Dudu Fisher
9. When is Dayenu sung?
A. At a bar and bat mitzvah
B. At the Passover Seder
C. When a rabbi concludes a sermon
D. During Shabbat morning services
10. Who led the Children of Israel in song after the Splitting of the Sea?
A. Pharaoh
B. Aaron
C. Moses
D. Miriam
Triangular delta maze with 40 cells side
The inaugural edition of “The Jew,” the first Jewish periodical in the United States, was published in March of 1823. It was published in New York City and edited by Solomon H. Jackson.
The mission of the paper was “Being a defence of Judaism against all adversaries, and particularly against the insidious attacks of Israel’s Advocate.” Its major aim was to combat missionaries, and specifically “Israel’s Advocate,” a Christian conversionist periodical published at the same time.
The periodical was issued until March 1825.
