Update 11-05-02


Hi,

Further follow-ups:

From Booker Gibson:  Hello, everyone.  I try to read all of your updates.  These last two have been great.  I was raised in Merrick, not too far from Valley Stream.  After  college -- Potsdam, New York (Music Ed.), 1952 -- I did four years in the Air Force.  In 1956, I thought it would be a snap getting a teaching job on Long  Island -- where  many people knew me, and I was an honor student, etc.  But no place would even  interview me -- even Merrick.  Some sympathetic music teachers took  me (while still  in uniform) to Valley Stream and introduced me to all the  principals.  They were polite, but uninterested.  In October, when I still didn't have a position and was at  my lowest point, James Bergen called from South High.  A teacher had suddenly been drafted, and  Bergen remembered me.  He didn't have to do it, but if you remember, Mr. Bergen had a very stubborn streak.  Most of the rest of  it, I attribute to students like you people were then.  You helped me through a "learning  process," and it worked out great for us  all.  Thanks again.
     P.S.  I  understand South and other Valley Stream schools are somewhat more diversified now.  (I retired in 1986)

(Rich:  That's the first nice thing I've ever heard about James Bergen, and it easily outweighs the rest.)

From Barnet Kellman:  Okay wow -- Barbara has certainly taken all of this in an interesting direction.  I was going to respond to her privately, but, once again, I am touched by, and proud of, what so many of you are saying (thank you, Diane!)  I'll dive in the hot tub with the rest of you:
    I was surprised and shocked by Barbara's experience!  Shocked and saddened by what happened to her personally -- and also shocked that I didn't know about it before.  You see, as a few of you know, my Dad worked for the American Jewish Committee and was specifically involved in combating anti-Semitism.  So I knew about hate crimes and restrictive covenants and the like at a very, very early age.  I knew it was no accident that 95% of the people who lived in Green Acres were Jewish, and I knew that Temple Gates of Zion had been vandalized once or twice when we were little kids (small stuff -- nothing horrific as I recall).  Still, I never knew of anything as direct and violent as Barbara's experience, and it makes me sad.  
I'm still sensitive to anti-Semitism as Fiveson and others who are on my e-mailing list well know.
      But I want to remind myself and others that we Jewish kids and our parents had loads of prejudice, too.  Probably very few of you know this, but early on in the existence of Green Acres someone tried to sell a home to a black family, and the Civic Association got together to make sure that didn't happen.  I don't know what they did -- no Jewish star burnings on the lawn; nothing public of course -- but somehow, they got the job done.  My parents (may they rest in peace)  didn't speak out -- I don't know if anybody's did -- I hope so.  But this fragment of our history has always haunted me.
     Mostly, we Jewish boys indulged in the same ethnic hazing and ranking out that was directed against us.  Besides the ugly kind of epithets and generalizations we directed against our "persecutors" (mainly the guys who waited by the bridge to pick some Green Acres kid to beat up on), we even  made idiotic remarks to our gentile friends who chose to hang out with us.  A lot of it was supposedly done in fun, but really, it wasn't fun or helpful to anyone's psyche.  Although Dennis Pizzimenti was more than capable of taking care of himself, the things we said to him were ugly and moronic and had to have hurt even a bonehead like him.  And I'll always be sorry for the teasing I gave my dear girlfriend Judy Peters.
      I'm glad we've all grown up.  I'm glad we're teaching our kids differently. I glad and grateful that we can talk to one another.

From Robert Fiveson:  Not to go on about hatred or intolerance:  my grandfather was the headwaiter at a deli in Brooklyn for many years.  He was on his feet and moving all day, everyday. Everyone loved Izzy -- everyone except whoever left him a dime as a tip one time.  The thing that made this meager tip genuinely worthwhile though was that they took the time to stamp (using a die and hammer) the word JEW on the dime.  I have that dime and treasure it.  But bigotry cuts in many directions.
     Perhaps the earliest great love of my life was Donna Chirico, but to my family she was known as Donna Susman -- because she had to be Jewish. In the end, it's all about love (but then I guess there have been a whole host of spiritual messengers who have tried to tell us that -- not the least of whom was a Jew who fared badly for such a crazy idea).  I know for me the message among our classmates is clear, if not articulated:  we all share the common bond of love.  The rest is so much gingerbread in our rearview mirrors.

From Marc Fishman, re: prejudice. In 1972, while attending medical school, I spent 3 months living with a black family in Nairobi. I went to parties with hundreds of people, and I was the only white person. I visited many places where no whites were to be found. I never felt prejudice, hostility or fear. At about the same time, Idi Amin was slaughtering the Indians in Uganda, and tribal hatreds and bloodshed were ongoing.
    In Canada, a group of us tried to help a runaway. She was amazed when she found out we were Jewish.  She had never met a Jew, but felt sure she would recognize one.  And from her education, she had been certain that a Jew would never, ever, help someone for nothing.
    So, I think prejudice can be anywhere, but it doesn't have to be. Oh, and I do remember the swastikas carved into our wooden desks.

On another subject entirely, absolutely, from Carol Bunim Okin:  Thanks so much for keeping these updates going -- they're great!  Please note my new e-mail address: theokins@optonline.net.

And finally, back to complete silliness, from Barbara Blitfield Pech:  Hi, guys.  While hanging out at the local grocery, and finding myself in the cookie aisle -- how did that ever happen? -- I made a wonderful discovery:  Mallomars are back on the shelves. I f you do not, or cannot get them at your local grocery, I am taking orders -- good thing I was both a Brownie and Girl Scout; that early training has come in handy.  Of course, if calories are a factor, I will shake your box over the sink, in a darkened kitchen.  It's an old Weight Watchers fact that this is the best and only way to assure low calorie, fat free cookies.

The home page address:  http://hometown.aol.com/falcons1965a


Rich