(1952) THE DAY I MET ELEANOR ROOSEVELT
Following my graduation from Brooklyn College in June 1951, I was offered a position as a teacher of English at Boys High School in the Bedford-Stuyvesant area in Brooklyn. When I first started, the principal of Boys High, Alfred Tausk, warmly welcomed me to the faculty. I was almost 22 years of age, and I really liked where I was at the time. Teaching several different classes of English proved challenging and I enjoyed it.
The months passed. One day, in April 1952, there was a notice on the Boys High bulletin board inviting two teachers from the school to meet Eleanor Roosevelt. A number of high schools throughout the city received identical invitations. I signed up immediately for the event.
Why was Eleanor Roosevelt so important? What was it about this woman that endeared her so much to me? She was the First Lady of the United States from 1933-1945. In addition, for 27 years, from the year 1935 until she passed away in 1962, she wrote a syndicated column six days a week called “My Day,” which I read as often as I could.
In the Fall of 1943, I enrolled in Yeshiva High School which was located in Washington Heights. It took one and a half hours by bus and train to get there from Borough Park, Brooklyn. Not wanting to pass the time idly on the train, I bought the newspaper called PM when I could afford it. It was a satisfying liberal newspaper that printed the news of the day and also featured Mrs. Roosevelt’s articles, which included her views on the political, social, and historical events of the day.
Eleanor Roosevelt was truly an American diplomat and a human rights activist. She spoke out fervently in favor of civil rights for the Blacks and for the Navajo Indians as well. She felt strongly that you can’t have quality education in this country with a segregated school system. In addition, the First Lady called attention to the plight of Jewish persecution and suffering in Europe during World War II. She had contempt for Hitler and expressed the hope that his followers would think for themselves and not be “dominated by their worst emotions.”
How she fought for the refugees of World War II! Eleanor Roosevelt was fully supportive of the State of Israel in 1948 and gave speeches on behalf of “Bonds for Israel.” Fortunately for our country and for the world, she was appointed by President Truman in 1945 to be a delegate to the United Nations, a position she held until 1953. Later, in 1957, Mrs. Roosevelt opposed the South African policy of apartheid and fought for the equal and fundamental rights of all human beings. In addition, the First Lady was a strong advocate for women in the workplace. I was very moved by her column and held her in great esteem for her many efforts in fighting for a better life for so many.
It was while she served as a delegate to the United Nations that our group of high school teachers were invited to her residence in the East 50s of Manhattan.
As I entered the home, Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt shook my hand and greeted me warmly in her high-pitched soprano voice. At the time, she was 68 years old, stood 5’ 11” tall and conducted herself admirably and with style. There were approximately 70 of us present, including teachers and her entourage. We were all ushered into a huge living room, where we were served cookies and a variety of refreshments. There weren’t enough chairs for everybody, so a few of us stood up against the wall and waited patiently for our host and speaker. Finally, our human rights activist entered the room and there was total silence. The American diplomat began her talk.
Eleanor Roosevelt observed how busy our lives can be. She noted that the problems of everyday life are many and that living in a meaningful and positive way is of the utmost importance. This was a subject close to her heart.
As the wife of President Franklin Roosevelt, she was very much aware of the serious problems America faced during the depression and the war years that followed. And now, as a delegate to the United Nations, she came to know and understand, on a daily basis, the lack of human rights around the world. As chairwoman of the Commission on Human Rights at the United Nations, she helped write the Declaration of Human Rights in 1948, a gigantic step on the ladder of fundamental human rights and equality for all.
Her talk lasted approximately half an hour, and some time was set aside for a question-and-answer period. It was quite clear that her words were well received and that they had a strong impact on all who were present that day. Her speech was followed by a standing ovation that lasted several minutes. How glad I was to be there!
That event took place in the year 1952. Almost 60 years later, I met Eleanor Roosevelt’s great grandson, Rabbi Joshua Boettiger. A municipal election was about to be held in the city of Hollywood, Florida, and he was one of the guest speakers.
How was he connected to Eleanor Roosevelt? Franklin D. Roosevelt and Eleanor had six children. Their daughter, Anna, married John Boettiger in 1935. Their son, also named John Boettiger, married Janet Adler, who was Jewish and lived in Miami Beach. Their son, Joshua, was born in 1973. Being a child of intermarriage, he identified with Judaism and eventually chose the rabbinate as his future profession. He was ordained at the Reconstructionist College in Philadelphia.
When I met Rabbi Boettiger at the political rally, he was excited to learn that I met his great-grandmother at a meeting that took place 21 years before he was even born. We talked at some length about Eleanor Roosevelt’s life, and her long-lasting influence as an American diplomat. He wanted to hear everything about her and was quite grateful. Since 2012, Joshua Boettiger has been the rabbi at Temple Emek Shalom in Ashland, Oregon, with his wife, Vanessa, and daughter, Paloma.
In the annals of American history, Eleanor Roosevelt stands out as a woman of strength and courage and one to be greatly admired for her qualities and achievements.
(1958) MAKING THE RIGHT DECISION IN ONE’S LIFE
Following my discharge from the army in 1954, I enrolled at the Hebrew Union College School of Sacred Music, class of 1958, in a four-year course leading to a Cantor-Educator degree.
Looking back, some of my happiest years were spent at the school. Several of the instructors with whom I studied were very inspiring. I felt privileged to study with Dr. Abraham Binder, Professor Isadore Freed, Dr. Eric Werner, and my musical coach, Cantor Arthur Wolfson, among others.
In my second year at the college, I was fortunate to be engaged as cantor at Temple Sholom in Floral Park, Queens. As cantor, I chanted the liturgy on Sabbath eve and holidays with an adult and children’s choir, trained students for Bar and Bat Mitzvah, and taught Hebrew in the adult education program.
During my first year at Temple Sholom, I was also engaged as a drama teacher for the Sunday school at B’nai Jeshurun in Manhattan. At the end of my first year at B’nai Jeshurun, I truly felt that my cup was running over and that I should devote my full attention to Temple Sholom. And so, in my second year at Temple Sholom, I taught music in the Sunday school.
Four years later, I was asked by the temple president to assume the responsibilities of principal of the Hebrew school, which met twice weekly, and the Sunday school. I supervised a teaching staff of twelve in the Sunday school and six in the Hebrew school for a student body of 250. It was a real challenge for me, and I readily accepted.
Working as a Cantor-Educator and attending Hebrew Union College at the same time were pleasurable for me, and I looked forward to what each new day would bring. My musical coach recommended an excellent voice teacher, Sidney Dietsch, who turned out to be the best of my three previous voice teachers. At the temple, my educational assistant, Lenore Ginsberg, was creative, well versed in Jewish studies and immensely helpful to our staff and to me. I loved it all!
The workload, however, was heavy. It is no wonder that when I returned home daily and my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep instantly.
One day in the spring of 1958, the dean of the college, Dr. Abraham Franzblau, a psychiatrist, summoned me to his office. He told me that there was a big position open at The Temple in
Atlanta and that the Rabbi, Jacob Rothschild, was flying up to New York City to interview candidates for the position.
“Would you be interested in the position?” the Dean asked. Without a doubt, the position seemed to be a wonderful opportunity and held the promise of much growth in my career development. “I certainly am,” I answered.
The next day I met with the personable and charismatic rabbi. He questioned me about the work I was doing. We talked about where I grew up in Brooklyn and my educational background. We also discussed my interests and my hobbies. My initial anxiety at the start of the interview quickly disappeared. I felt totally at ease with Rabbi Jacob Rothschild’s warmth and conversational style.
In the final minutes of the interview, Rabbi Rothschild offered me the position of principal at The Temple in Atlanta at a salary that not only excited my interest but caused my mouth to open wide in shock. “I can also give you two secretaries who will assist you in your educational responsibilities. And, of course, membership in the local country club will be included,” he said.
At this point, I could hardly contain myself when he continued, “By the way, are you married?”
“No,” I answered.
“I don’t think you’ll have any difficulty getting married at The Temple. In fact, I can guarantee a wife from my congregation, and if you like, I’ll put it in the contract.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary but it’s really very thoughtful of you, and I’m deeply appreciative.”
“By the way,” I continued, “we didn’t talk about my role as cantor in your congregation – about my responsibilities.”
“That is a very sensitive subject,” said the rabbi. “At the present time, we have a soloist and a professional choir at Sabbath and holiday services. We are a classical Reform congregation and are not ready to accept the traditional role of the cantor in our temple.”
Of all the surprises in the interview, that was clearly the biggest. I mentioned that I needed some time to seriously think about the position. Rabbi Rothschild indicated that he would be in town for a few days and to call him on Sunday before he leaves for Atlanta. I expressed my heartfelt thanks to him for the opportunity to meet with him and for the position he offered me.
In the two days that followed, my feelings and emotions were greatly aroused by the interview. My love for Judaism was great, and I could teach it either as an educator or as a cantor. The soul of a people, I deeply felt, lives in its music and my vocal talent could be used to teach, to enrich a religious service and, hopefully, to uplift and inspire a congregation and even a community through musical concerts and choral offerings. It is only by following your deepest instinct, the small voice within you, that you can live your life with authenticity and help assure a meaningful and rich life for yourself. My heart was clearly in favor of the cantorate.
On Sunday, I called Rabbi Rothschild and declined his kind offer. I wished him the best of luck in his search for an educator while he wished me the best in my future endeavors.
I sometimes wonder about the different turns my life would have taken had I accepted that Atlanta position. But, like Lot’s wife in the Bible quickly discovered, it’s not good to look back. It’s always good to look straight ahead towards a forward position because that’s where your future should be.
(1968) FACE TO FACE WITH FEAR IN MANHATTAN
It is always a pleasure living in Manhattan, except when it is not. The recollection of one evening, an incident that took place over 50 years ago, still clings to my memory.
It was a very cold day in December 1968. The snow of previous days had turned to slush. Few pedestrians were to be seen on the streets. I was visiting a friend in the West 80’s off West End Avenue in Manhattan. It was around 9 p.m. at night when I left the apartment building and started walking to my car.
As I passed one of the buildings, there were three men standing at the front entrance. They seemed to be in their late 20s and early 30s. One of them appeared to be holding a lead pipe, which looked to be about three feet long.
Down the slushy street, I continued on my way. My car was parked two blocks away, and I would be there shortly. The man holding the lead pipe then called out to me and said, “What are you doin’ on my block, mister?”At that point, I knew that I was in trouble. It turned out that I was.
The three of them had targeted me as their victim and started to follow me. My sense of dread and anxiety was clearly unsettling. The street was totally empty of people. There were only the four of us. I knew that I had to think logically and defensively. Running to my car a block and a half away was clearly not going to help my predicament. The aggressive three men could easily outrun me. The possibility of being struck on the body by a three-foot lead pipe became very real and frightening to me. I could be hospitalized for several weeks or months, I thought to myself. How can I get out of this? This was a fear that almost paralyzed me. Multiple thoughts ran through my mind.
I recalled reading about the success some people had in overcoming threatening situations by creating a cheerful social atmosphere in order to confront what you’re trying to avoid. This was just a hunch, and I had nothing to lose. Maybe it would work. I figured it was worth a try. I stopped walking and turned around to greet them.
“Good evening, gentlemen, what can I do for you?” I asked.
They walked straight up to me as their leader, the one with the lead pipe, responded.
“Now I want you to open up your wallet and give me all your money.”
I could not believe this was happening to me. I was scared as scared could be!
“But…but fellows, I’m a minister,” I stammered.
And then, wonder of wonders, their leader started stammering, too. “Uh.. wait uh… hold it, c’mon…..let’s go!” And they were off. It was clear that my being a minister greatly affected the group leader’s behavior.
I breathed a huge sigh of relief as they left the area. When I arrived home and reviewed the night’s happenings, my body started to shake. It was the final reaction to the evening’s event.
This kind of story taught me something. It showed how precious life is and the importance of surviving emerging threats and dangers to our lives. Not only should we be thankful for the daily blessings in our lives but ever so thankful for the horrible happenings from which we can escape. As Eleanor Roosevelt beautifully observed, “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.”
(1969) A SPECIAL CANTATA AT THE TEMPLE
It seems so long ago and yet, in my memory, it is as clear as yesterday. It was the winter of 1968, and I was planning our annual music festival at Temple Emeth in Teaneck, New Jersey. A cantata of interest to me was called, “The Earth is the Lord’s” and was composed by Cantor Ray Smolover with lyrics by Cantor Charles Davidson. The musical composition, in the form of a short oratorio, told a wonderful story. It was beautifully written for cantor, narrator, choir, and organ and strongly appealed to me.
Thinking a little “outside the box,” I thought a dance portion might be added in order to strengthen its impact as a dramatic musical work. At that time, the inclusion of a dance presentation on the temple bimah during the Friday night synagogue service, even in the most liberal places of worship, was considered taboo and out of place. I knew it could be a failure on that point alone. It was a gamble. In Shulkes fashion, I decided to take it.
I called my sister, Pauline, a dance specialist and instructor at the High School of Music and Art, to get her input. Pauline’s first love in the arts was modern dance, and she excelled in it. As one who was proficient in the many forms of dance, she studied with such professionals as Martha Graham and performed in modern, primitive, ballet, tap and Haitian dance. Pauline developed an interpretative style which encompassed much grace and beauty.
I told Pauline I was excited about this cantata and asked her if she would participate in the musical project. She enjoyed creative challenges and readily accepted. Pauline was even more positive about the project when I presented her with a musical tape of the 25-minute work. Would she create the choreography for this musical venture?
Before I could even finish the question, I could see that she was already mentally engaged in the project. “What would you call my group?” she asked. “How about the “Ivriah Dance Ensemble,” I answered. She smiled and went to work on it. The following day, she selected two other dancers and was hard at work with the choreography.
Less than a week later, with the choreography in place, the dancers were in practice and rehearsal mode. A few months later, in March of the following year, the cantata would be presented during the worship service. The organist, narrator, choir, the dance ensemble, and I were fully rehearsed, enthusiastic, and ready. The congregation was informed that a special Sabbath service would be held at the temple featuring a cantata with a dance ensemble.
When the time came, the sanctuary was filled with congregants and visitors as the service and cantata presentation took place.
The following Monday, Rabbi Louis Sigel, who enjoyed his role as narrator in the cantata, discussed the Sabbath eve service with me. “Irving,” he said, “the evening was a great success. We only lost three families. When the dancers appeared on the pulpit in their leotards, they thought we had a bunch of nudists on the pulpit. Uhhh…By the way, Irving, tell me, what do you have planned for next year?”
I realized then that when you innovate and try something new, there will always be those few or many that will look at your project with disfavor. That’s okay with me. They’re still wonderful people and I certainly respect their opinions. An unfavorable view, however, should not dissuade you from your sense of innovation and future projects.
(1978) TWO GEFILTE FISH AND A HAM
Living in South Florida has been good for me and Joanne in many ways. We are surrounded by many friends and involved in social activities in and outside our temple. Kay, who was married to our close friend, Cantor Jerry Klement, sang in the adult choir of the Second Presbyterian Church of Fort Lauderdale. She was a true chorister, singing in synagogue and church choirs, going all the way back to her musical roots in Chicago.
Kay spoke highly of this minister of music and thoroughly enjoyed singing in his church choir. I thought that meeting another music conductor in the field of religious music would be interesting and, therefore, I arranged to meet Donald Mathis and his wife Joan.
Over a period of several months, we became good friends, dining out together and entertaining one another at our homes. He was building his church choirs in Fort Lauderdale, and I was building my synagogue choirs at Temple Sinai in North Miami Beach, some 15 miles south. We were frank with each other about the challenges that choirs present and how we, as conductors, can strive for and hope to achieve an effective musical standard in our congregations. Don and I developed a close bond of friendship and had a great working relationship.
One evening in January 1978, we decided to bring our adult choirs together for a future concert at the church. The selections would be drawn from the Pentateuch, Psalms, popular oratorios, Hebrew and Christian liturgy, and musical comedy. It would also include a beautiful “Threefold Benediction” to conclude the concert. Featured would be the music of Franz Joseph Haydn, Felix Mendelssohn, Ernest Bloch, William Zimmerman, Julius Chajes, Isadore Freed, Max Janowski, Heinrich Schalit, Albert Hay Malotte, Naomi Shemer, Peter Lutkin, Lionel Bart and Leonard Bernstein, among others.
Cantor Jerry Klement, Minister of Music Don Mathis, and I, were to be the soloists in the concert. The organists and accompanists from the three congregations were Warren Canfield, Robert Nelson and Eva Lee Savage. In addition, Rabbi Ralph Kingsley and Pastor Jerry Flanigan were asked to participate and welcome all in attendance.
One day, at a working lunch with Jerry Klement and Don Mathis, we discussed the progress of our future concert. Everything was going well, but we felt that the program needed a little something that would make it stand out from the norm – something special. When we were almost physically exhausted with back-and-forth suggestions, Don looked up and down at both of us, and wearily, and somewhat cheerfully, came up with a title, “Two Gefilte Fish and A Ham.” Jerry and I jumped at the suggestion, smiled, laughed, quickly agreed, and with a sigh of relief, said, “That’s it!”
During 1978, the Temple Sinai adult choir had a total of 42 members. Combined with the Second Presbyterian Church adult choir, we had over 100 voices. The rehearsals at the church were fun and filled with good humor. They were preceded by a well-prepared supper beforehand. The singing of the combined choirs, which Don Mathis and I took turns conducting, was beautiful and inspiring. The pianissimos and crescendos and everything else came together to produce a glorious sound. I felt it was an exciting sound that could get the complete attention, approval and bring much pleasure to all who were present.
And then, on May 14, 1978, the concert took place. Every seat in the church sanctuary was taken, and at least 300 people were standing in the aisles. It was filled to capacity, and then some. Altogether, it was a most unforgettable concert that has become a treasured memory.
(1981) A SPECIAL INGREDIENT FOR THE WEDDING SERVICE
After my father, Philip Shulkes, may his memory be for a blessing, passed away, my mother, Rebecca, took turns visiting and living with her five children. Pauline (Al), Doris (Stan) and Judy (Howard) lived in New York while Howie (Myra), and I (Joanne) lived in Florida. She was very happy visiting her children who loved and welcomed her with open arms and open hearts.
Rebecca was a religious and observant Orthodox woman who prayed daily. She and my father instilled in our family a set of values more important than any tangible inheritance. One of my mother’s favorite parts of the Bible could be found in Psalm 15, which served as a guide to her beliefs.
In this Psalm is found the Jewish ideal of human character. It asks the question, “Who will live in your sanctuary?” And the answer follows: Those who are honest and ethical in their dealings with people, who do not slander, who do not exploit others, who do not charge usurious interest, who do not take bribes against the innocent, who give their word and do not retract it. Then, Divine favor will surely follow them.
This describes how truly special my mother was and what was important in her life. Her wants were very few and limited and all five of us made every effort to ensure her comfort and carry out her wishes during her periodic visits.
During one visit, at the age of 79, she stayed with Joanne and me. How my mother loved happy events! She felt strongly that every day was special. In fact, one of her often-quoted statements was “Today we’re going to have a happy day.” One Sabbath morning, I mentioned to her that a wedding would be taking place at the temple that very evening. A South Korean convert to Judaism was going to be married to one of our congregants. I asked her if she would like to attend the wedding. “It would give me the greatest of pleasure,” my mother answered. Because she couldn’t see or hear too well, I assured her that she would be sitting in the center of the front row where she would feel perfectly at home with the wedding service.
That evening, we arrived at the temple and waited for the service to begin in the sanctuary. The wedding party walked up to the bimah as Rabbi Ralph Kingsley welcomed the new convert, her groom and their families to the pulpit.
A wedding is of paramount importance in the life of any couple. In Jewish life, one of the 613 commandments is to rejoice with the bride and groom. Moreover, one of the many joys of being a cantor is being able to officiate with a rabbi or by myself at a wedding ceremony. Over these many years, I have had the privilege of officiating at hundreds of weddings, and I enjoy tying the knot real tight at each and every one of them.
The Hebrew word for marriage is “kiddushin” or holiness. There is a beautiful chant of the first four verses of the biblical “Song of Songs” that has moved me deeply over the years. The chanting is based on special melodic phrases of the biblical text and is called cantillation. A 20th century synagogue composer, Lazare Saminsky, set an inspiring solo arrangement to the opening four verses of the “Song of Songs” which I have regularly used and loved.
At weddings outside the temple, however, I would often walk down the aisle at the beginning of the service chanting the opening verse of “Ma Tovu,” which translates into, “How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob, thy dwelling places O Israel.”
In all of Jewish life, including the wedding service, wine is the symbol of joy. The wedding couple drinks from the same cup following the blessing over the wine. The groom then places the ring on the bride’s finger and the exchange of vows, in both Hebrew and English, follows: “Be consecrated to me with this ring in accordance with the law of Moses and Israel.” The Ketubah, or marriage contract, is then read aloud. It is, of course, duly signed and witnessed.
Some of the Ketubahs are beautiful artistic creations and are often decorated with phrases from the “Song of Songs.” My own strong preference is an artistic Ketubah with a contemporary egalitarian text in modern Hebrew and English.
The seven wedding benedictions, or “Sheva B’rachot,” can be described as one of the essentials of the Jewish wedding ceremony. The musical setting of these benedictions that I love is based on the French Provence tradition and is found in the Gershon Ephros Anthology. These seven blessings symbolize love, contentment, joy, harmony, gladness, peace and friendship.
One of the customs during the ceremony is the breaking of the glass. It symbolizes the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem in 586 BCE and in the year 70 of the Common Era. On one of our happiest days and celebrations, we remember the loss of our ancient homeland and of our two temples. The groom smashes the glass with his foot as everybody calls out “Mazel Tov” to congratulate the happy couple. The wedding service is now officially over as the bride and groom face their future together.
Now that I have given some background, let me get back to the story. Here was my mother, Rebecca, enjoying every aspect of the service from her front and center seat in the sanctuary. She could see and hear everything and truly feel a part of the proceedings. When the glass was smashed, she smiled with delight and when the rabbi pronounced the couple husband and wife, she clapped her hands with the many others in the sanctuary and shouted out a “Mazel Tov.”
As the service concluded, the couple proceeded to descend the stairs from the bimah. It was then that something new was added to the traditional ceremony. My mother rushed up to the bride and uttered the authoritative words, “Put your head down. I’m from Jerusalem and I want to bless you.” The bride acquiesced as my mother put her hands over the bride’s head and pronounced the “Threefold Benediction” in Hebrew. The English translation follows:
May God bless you and keep you.
May God’s presence shine upon you and be gracious unto you.
May God’s presence be with you and give you peace.
My mother could not have picked a better moment for the blessing. The timing seemed to fit in so well with the entire service. Without a doubt, some of the people present felt that my mother’s blessings were an inherent part of the service itself. What I do know is that the happy couple felt doubly blessed.
Many years have passed since that wedding. Her recitation of the priestly blessing, first intoned by Aaron, the high priest, enriched the service beyond words and has become a part of my legacy of cherished memory.
(1993) DOUBLE OR NOTHING – LAS VEGAS STYLE
In 1993, Joanne and I traveled to Las Vegas for a week’s vacation. We enjoyed staying at a popular hotel a few minutes away from the famous Las Vegas strip. Two of our dear friends, Mordechai and Esther, were checking into the Las Vegas Hilton for a real estate convention. They called us and suggested we have dinner that evening. It was one of those hot days where the temperature stood at about 95 degrees and that could be bothersome. If you like Vegas, however, the dry heat is nothing to complain about. You accept it readily. The streets were literally filled with thousands of tourists wandering, some aimlessly, from place to place.
We arrived at the Hilton where our friends warmly embraced us. We exchanged greetings, talked about our family, the plane flight to Vegas and the accommodations at our hotels. Mordechai looked at me and said, “Irving, I know that craps is a familiar game to you and that you’ve been playing it over the years. Could you, perhaps, give us a lesson in it so that we can profit from your past experience?” I answered that I would be pleased to do so.
To be comfortable at the table, you need at least twenty units of the minimum bet at the table. Thus, if the minimum bet is five dollars, you’ll need at least one hundred dollars. If it’s ten dollars, then you’ll need two hundred dollars, and so on. There’s much more to the game, like come bets, odds, and place bets, among others. And that’s it: basic craps! But that, however, is taking us far away from our story. So let me continue.
I looked at Mordechai and asked, “Are you ready to play?” He answered with a strong affirmative, “Yes.” Since the minimum bet at all the tables at the Hilton was twenty-five dollars, I suggested that each of us take out five hundred dollars. Without flinching, Mordechai reached into his wallet for the money and indicated his readiness to meet any challenge head on.
“Now Mordechai, let’s put the money on the craps table so that the dealer can exchange it for twenty $25 chips. We now have the opportunity to double our money or make it disappear, and it won’t take more than thirty minutes. Just follow my play on the table and do as I do.”
We played the pass line and one and two “come bets” with full odds for both plus several “place bets” as well. In precisely twenty-three minutes, each of us succeeded in doubling our money – a total of one thousand and ten dollars. Mordechai, Esther, and Joanne were quite shocked at the outcome. And truth be told, so was I. We more than doubled our money and achieved our goal. Mordechai and Esther were elated and in great spirits. Since the dealers were very pleasant and helpful during our play, each of us left a tip for them. They rely on tips, and this is how they make their living. We left the table and cheerfully cashed in our chips.
“What do we do now?”, Mordechai asked.
“Well, we’re with two beautiful women – our wives. Why not celebrate the occasion with one or two cocktails at the piano bar?” Mordechai readily agreed and replied, “Beautiful is right. I treasure my life with Esther. She is my soul mate, my partner in life and the best thing that ever happened to me.” We were all deeply aware and felt profoundly grateful to have one another in our lives. Being in a delightful mood, we enjoyed the drinks, the piano music, the ambience, and being together.
After about an hour, Mordechai suggested that we return to the craps table. Feeling emboldened, he said, “Let’s try again. Lady Luck may give us another surprise this evening.” We all agreed and made our way back to the table. The same exchange with the dealer followed: five hundred dollars in exchange for twenty $25 dollar chips. We played the same way, as skillfully as before, but our luck had changed. In less than thirty minutes, we lost it all. We all took turns trying to evaluate what happened at the table. While discussing it, we entered the restaurant for an enjoyable dinner. We all agreed how exciting it was to participate in that exceptional game of chance – that of craps.
Interestingly, any person who has played craps for any length of time has a story to tell. There is also a saying that speaks to the truth of our experience, “Easy come, easy go.”
(2020) A SPIRITUAL JOURNEY
Since my retirement from Temple Sinai in 1998, I have been officiating as cantor at religious services aboard cruise ships during the High Holy Days, Passover and Chanukah. Recently, Joanne and I were considering taking a cruise aboard the Celebrity Equinox from Barcelona to Venice. It also included the ports of Rome, Corfu, Kotor and Dubrovnik. Since this was a Rosh Hashanah cruise lasting only ten days, Joanne suggested that we consider flying from Rome to Israel in a three-and-a-half-hour trip and be there for Yom Kippur. “What a great idea!” I said. “Maybe we can work it out.”
As one who has always loved our musical heritage, I asked my colleagues where in Israel we would find a shul with a high musical standard for Yom Kippur. They recommended several synagogues in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. We finally decided to pray at the Great Synagogue in Jerusalem. The cantor and his thirty-voice all male choir had a very strong and persuasive appeal to me.
A few days later, several weeks before the cruise, I was on the phone with the administrator of the synagogue. Our dialogue follows:
“I am a retired cantor living in South Florida and would like two seats at your synagogue for Yom Kippur for me and my wife. And I don’t care how much it costs.”
“You don’t care how much it costs?” was the reply in the form of a question on the other end.
“No, I don’t care about the cost, but there are two conditions to my request,” I answered.
“Please continue. I am listening. You have my full attention,” said the administrator.
“First, I would like to be within twenty feet of the cantor and choir.”
“Well, that’s not going to be easy. I’ll have to see what I can do about that. Now, tell me, Cantor, what is your second condition, or should I sit down first?”
“My second condition is that I want to be able to see my wife upstairs in the balcony at all times during the service.”
“My dear Cantor,” he continued, “your second request is, clearly, more difficult than your first. However, if cost is not a primary consideration, perhaps we can reach an agreement that will satisfy you. I’ll get back to you in a couple of days.”
The response a few days later from the administrator was positive and a satisfying agreement was reached. Of course, I just had to reach a little deeper into my pocket for what I knew would be a highly spiritual and uplifting religious service. Joanne and I then tried locating a hotel within walking distance to the synagogue. In less than an hour, we called the Prima Kings Hotel in Jerusalem and reserved a room for a week with a balcony overlooking the Old City. The synagogue was a two-minute walk from our hotel.
What a joy it was to be back in Israel after the cruise, especially in Jerusalem for one whole week. This was the city where my mother was born and where my parents married. She was born a few blocks away from Montefiore’s Windmill in an area called Yemin Moshe. We visited the Western Wall, met my cousins near the Hadassah Hospital and toured the city.
The Great Synagogue was a beautiful sight for us, and we arrived an hour early for the Kol Nidre Service. The sanctuary was truly grand with its beautifully designed bimah and ark. There were 850 seats downstairs for the men and 550 seats upstairs for the women. I walked around the sanctuary, looking up, hoping to get a glimpse of Joanne. A friendly and personable man approached me and asked if he could be of help. I told him that I was just hoping to see my wife upstairs. Little did I realize that he was the president of the synagogue. After a short while, Joanne appeared in the balcony and took her seat. Throughout the service, she was quite visible. It made me feel good.
The Kol Nidre service with the magnificent cantor and thirty-voice male choir was truly exceptional. It is almost a certainty to state that the best-known chant in the liturgy of our people is the Kol Nidre. This soul searching, stirring and haunting chant speaks to each of us on the evening of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. The traditional musical renditions of the cantor and the harmonies of the choir in the evening service were inspirational. It also felt great being less than 20 feet from the cantor and choir and fully involved in the service.
During the morning service the following day, the president of the synagogue, whom I met the previous evening, invited me to open the ark later in the service. To me, opening the ark was a humbling and emotional experience. As I opened the ark which held over twenty-five Torah scrolls, I, together with the entire congregation, prostrated ourselves before God. There were roughly fourteen hundred people in attendance and every man, woman and child prostrated themselves. This is always the time that I realize how fragile and vulnerable I really am, fully stripped of my own importance, and coming before God with great humility.
This ritual is reminiscent of the ancient one that was practiced in the Temple in Jerusalem over twenty-five hundred years ago.
I can truly say that our visit to Jerusalem and praying at the Great Synagogue was a spiritual journey that I will always treasure.
(2021) TRAUMATIZED BY A DNA TEST
Joanne and I have taken many memorable cruises. One story I would like to share took place aboard the Queen Mary Two. It was a two-week back-to-back cruise going from New York to Southampton. My responsibilities aboard the ocean liner as a cantor included officiating at Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services and being there to handle any questions or concerns of a Jewish nature that might arise.
You had to be there to experience the beauty of the ship. If you were a gourmet diner, you certainly felt at home in the elegance of the main dining room or in several of the alternative restaurants. Guests were pampered with the finest cuisine and wine at lunch and dinnertime. Among my personal favorites were Chilean sea bass, salmon, roast duck and New York strip steak. Joanne particularly enjoyed the High Tea at three o’clock in the afternoon along with the scones. On formal evenings, many were dressed to the hilt with tuxedos and gowns. Others could be seen in dark suits and cocktail dresses.
A huge staff was on board to keep the ship in top physical condition and cater to the wants and needs of approximately twenty-five hundred passengers. If you enjoyed working out, a large gym was available. In addition, there was the attraction of the pool, and, for walkers, there was the seventh deck that would satisfy any strong urge for walking – seven times around constituted one mile.
For the passionate bridge players aboard, there were morning classes for beginning and intermediate students. In the afternoon, tables were up and ready for duplicate bridge. On our particular cruise, fifty-two players were seated at thirteen tables, and all were happily putting their player skills to work. As if that were not enough, there were lectures and programs of interest during the day and different kinds of musical entertainment during the evening.
The first day aboard the ship was, as you can well imagine, quite hectic. Many of us were trying to acquaint ourselves with the ship’s interior, our personal accommodations, the dining rooms, exercise areas, theater, library, and computer workshops. We finally got back to our stateroom, exhausted, but looking forward to the next day’s events.
A week later, the ship arrived at the port of Southampton in the early morning. A major seaport in the United Kingdom, Southampton has been called “the cruise ship capital of Europe” and is located seventy miles southwest of London. After a hearty breakfast, we boarded a bus and traveled to the center of town. We passed many historical sights, some dating to the 14th century.
Later in the day, after what seemed like endless walking, we arrived at the impressive Westquay Mall where we ate lunch. With renewed vigor, we then shopped at the Marks and Spencer department store where we bought items of interest for our family. We made it back to the ship an hour before sailing time.
As we were dressing for dinner, the phone rang. “Are you the ship’s rabbi,” the caller asked. “Yes, I’m the Jewish clergy. How can I help you?” I answered. “My name is Miller. I’m a biology instructor at one of the local universities in London. The DNA test I took just came back and showed that I am 23% Jewish. This was a tremendous shock to me, my wife, and my son. I’m very anxious about all this. Is there any way I can see you?”
“Do you have a red shirt?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Good,” I continued, “wear your red shirt so I can easily identify you and meet me for breakfast tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. on the 9th deck. Bring your wife with you.”
“I’ll be there,” he reassured me.
When morning came, it took no time at all to find Dr. Miller with the red shirt in the crowded dining room. After a nourishing breakfast and the morning pleasantries, the conversation took a serious turn. “My family and I have been traumatized by this DNA revelation. We have all been raised in the Anglican Church and consider ourselves to be Christians. This really came as a shock to us.”
“With the passing of time, I’m sure the shock will be less severe,” I observed. “What do you plan to do about it?” I asked. He wasn’t sure what to do next or what action he should take but felt that he had to pursue it for his ultimate peace of mind.
“I’m 63 years old, brought up in the Anglican Church and this DNA revelation is certainly raising serious problems for me and my family. What should I do?” he asked pointedly.
“Well, if you ask me, I’d say that you could erase it from your mind entirely or pursue the matter further. Personally, if I were told that I was ten percent Cherokee Indian, there would be many questions that I’d be asking. It’s going to take a lot of courage to face this head-on.”
“But, I know nothing about Judaism or the Jewish people, just what I read in the papers and what I hear from my friends,” replied the professor.
At this point, I suggested we leave the dining room and proceed to a less crowded place where we could be more comfortable and converse more easily.
A few decks below and over coffee, our conversation continued. Dr. Miller seemed less anxious but eager to discuss the subject matter further.
“I have to confess that I’ve had very little contact with people of the Jewish faith, maybe a few students over the years at the university. That’s about it, I guess,” said the biologist.
“You have a choice ahead of you. You can forget about it altogether or follow it to where it takes you,” I said emphatically.
“I’m too much of a scientist to cast it from my mind. It’s also clear to me that my DNA is an essential part of who I am. I have to…I must go forward with it. Tell me straight out, how do I begin?”
“You mentioned a while ago that you have no knowledge of Judaism. This might be a good opportunity to become acquainted with a religion going back almost four thousand years.”
“Is there a book you can recommend that will give me some insight and understanding?”
“What comes readily to my mind,” I recalled, “is the book Basic Judaism by Milton Steinberg. This book is a classic.”
“Is that about it?” he sighed with relief.
“Not quite,” I answered. “To get to the heart of a people, you have to know their story, their history.”
“Is there a good book on the history of the Jewish people?” he asked.
“There are literally thousands of books on the subject. All of Jewish life today has its roots in the past. One that I like which has enjoyed many printings is, A History of the Jewish People by Margolis and Marx. However, there are many books on this subject, and I’m sure you won’t have difficulty finding one.”
Miller had his writing pad with him and wrote down the names of the two books that I mentioned. He thought aloud as he asked, “How do I find out what is happening today, what is taking place, what is important to the Jewish people today?”
“Are there any synagogues in your area?”
“Yes, there are several,” he replied.
“Well,” I said, “you might attend a lecture, sign up for an adult course or even go to a religious service and talk to some of the people you meet there. You can still be within your comfort zone. There is no need for you to change your religion, and nobody will ask that of you. All you want is a little more information about your DNA. I can guarantee that you’ll feel better afterwards.” Joanne added an Amen to that statement.
After another cup of coffee, I could see the change in the professor. He was less anxious, freed from his uncertainties and clearly more relaxed and at ease. The same could be said about his wife. She was very understanding and supportive in our discussion. I asked him if the DNA test provided him with a list of possible relatives. He said that he would follow through on that when he and his wife returned home. We exchanged email addresses, saw one another a few times, had dinner together and enjoyed the rest of the cruise. I am quite sure that his DNA experience is one that he will always remember and never forget. The simple truth permeating all of this is: It is always better to know who you are than to live your life as a stranger.
(2022) THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN LIFE
Some time ago, Joanne and I went on a sixteen-day Passover cruise that sailed from Miami to Barcelona, Spain. As the guest cantor aboard the Azamara Quest, my responsibilities included officiating at the Passover Seder and Sabbath Services. The Passover Seder, with all its rituals, songs and stories, is one of my favorite holidays. The story of Passover, with its message of freedom – the right to be free and to live in freedom – has been an inspiration not only for Jews, not only for all peoples in their darkest hours of oppression, but for all mankind and for all time.
Some people have an unquenchable thirst for travel. My travel is limited to a few times each year. I do find, however, a trans-Atlantic voyage to be relaxing. It certainly promotes my well-being. There seems to be time for everything – for reading, lectures, bridge classes, walking, swimming, and nightly entertainment.
On the second day, I was invited to meet with several of the ship’s officers and the head chef to discuss the food and other arrangements regarding the Seder. We focused on everything, from breaking matzah together down to the last detail. There was one goal that we all enthusiastically shared – the successful celebration of the Passover Seder on board the Azamara.
There were about six hundred passengers on the ship. In the days that followed, fifty people, Jews and non-Jews, signed up to attend the Seder. The Protestant minister who was conducting religious services aboard the ship, with whom we became friendly, expressed a strong desire to attend the Seder with his wife. The main office was firm and arbitrarily limited the number of people attending the Seder to 50. I interceded on the minister’s behalf and brought the number of participants to fifty-two. One long table was set up in the spacious and elegant library room. Joanne was particularly impressed with the spectacular ice sculpture prepared for the occasion, the abundance of matzah and the traditional Jewish cuisine that was being served.
At the start of the Seder, we were visited by the head chef, beverage manager, as well as the captain himself. The captain expressed his best wishes to us and hoped that the special Seder preparation by the ship’s staff would meet and, hopefully, exceed our expectations of this holiday event. The captain’s good wishes meant a lot to all of us.
The Passover story is vividly described in the book of Exodus. At the invitation of Joseph, the Hebrews, also called the Israelites or Jews, settled in the Nile country. When the pharaohs of Egypt launched an overly ambitious building program, the Israelites were forced and pressed into service, oppressed, and soon enslaved for a period of 400 years. Moses is the great majestic leader of the exodus from bondage to freedom, but the holiday is not about him. It is about the liberation of a people. During the evening meal, we read from the Haggadah, a booklet specially compiled for the observance of the Passover Seder. The Seder aboard the ship went particularly well.
Following the cruise, we flew to Copenhagen, Denmark, where we spent several days. We walked through its cobbled streets and visited the Tivoli Gardens and other sights in this vibrant medieval city. On the second day, we decided to see the changing of the guard at Amalienborg Palace, the home of the royal family. It was a beautiful day and only a 30-minute walk from our hotel. We took a leisurely stroll as we passed some of the Danish historical sights.
After about 15 minutes, I wanted to make sure that we were heading in the right direction. I stopped four young people on the street and asked them for directions to Amalienborg. They pointed us in the right direction. One of them mentioned that they were all students at the University of Copenhagen. They were about 19 or 20 years old. Three of them were from the United States and enrolled in a special program and the fourth was a native of Denmark. The group was interviewing people for a project on which they were working.
One of them looked at us and asked: “Would you be willing to be interviewed? We are only asking one question.”
“Why not,” I answered. “What kind of a question could that possibly be?”
“Tell us. What is the most important thing in your life?”
“You know,” I responded, “We just got off a ship where I served as guest clergy for the Passover holiday. Are you all familiar with the Jewish holiday of Passover?” I asked.
They all nodded.
“It is the story of the exodus of the Jews from ancient Egypt with its powerful message of freedom. It’s much more than a history lesson. It is the annual reenactment and telling of the journey from bondage and slavery to freedom. With freedom, you can have everything. Without it, what do you have?”
Clearly, the group was quite surprised by my answer. They expected an answer more related to the importance of work, personal goals, money, health or family.
We talked for a while about oppressed peoples, tyrannical dictatorships, and the eternal search of people for freedom in the old days and in our own time. Oppression, dictatorship and slavery have clearly been a problem throughout the ages and remain a challenge for each of the generations to come in the future.
It was during the American Revolutionary War that the American patriot, Patrick Henry, spoke these words: “Give me liberty or give me death.” In the Bible, in Leviticus chapter 25, it is also written: “Proclaim liberty throughout the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.”
There was a lively exchange of opinions on the meaningful qualities of life and the power of choice that all of us have at our command. As we parted from the group, it was with the general consensus that the role of freedom in the world can be as important as the air we breathe. And the question confronting us is: How great can life truly be without our freedom?
