Update 11-12-02


Hi,

Still more follow-ups:

From Roz Minsky Bobrow:  Wow -- quite the learning experience to read all the e-mails about bigotry. So much for thinking we led the sheltered life.  As most of my social life was centered on Temple Emanuel in Lynbrook, I really knew very little anti-Semitism growing up.  The worst experiences were after South.  I went to the University of Hartford, not exactly the center of cultural or religious Judaism.  My dorm was less than 10% Jewish, a somewhat different percentage than South in the 1960s, and all of us were from the New York area. We -- the "Jew girls" -- always stood together on dorm issues and were always acutely made aware that we were different.  During one break, I went home with a dormmate from Texas -- Houston, no less.  She introduced me to her high school friends who blatantly asked "If I was really Jewish?"  They had never "met one," they said, and they also asked all the good questions like: "Why did we kill Jesus Christ?"  "Did we really have horns?"  "Do we really suck out the blood in our meat?"  I was sure they were joking and responded with a nervous laugh.  When my dormmate assured me they were not joking, I was shocked beyond the beyond.  It was only after Jeanne Mary told me that she, too, had never met a Jew and was curious as to how I was different, and wanted to know why "you Jews" did not believe that Jesus was the Savior, that I flew home to New York several days earlier than originally planned.  After that, our friendship was never the same.  However, about a year ago, she contacted me again.  Her life had taken quite a different path than mine -- an out-of-wedlock child, an abortion in Puerto Rico in 1967, two failed marriages, children, grandchildren, and unemployment.  We talked, and then she actually apologized for how she treated me in Houston, and how she behaved about my being Jewish.  I never knew it had made any impression on her, and, in a way, was happy to know that it had bothered her for more than 35 years.
      Our second home was in West Hartford, as is our present home, in an area that for years was NJA (No Jews Allowed).  My four-year old daughter was asked by her new friends and neighbors, "Why did you kill Jesus Christ?" and she was devastated at the thought that "we" did such a terrible thing.  It took a lot of talking with my neighbors to rectify that scary conversation.  I actually talked to their priest as well.  He was grateful for the information, and I believe it was transmitted to the children and their parents.  As time went on, I was actually included in the social activities of the neighborhood, and I thought things were different.  I was awakened again when several West Hartford synagogues became targets of arson in the 1980's -- torched during the night.  The  fires were terrifying.  Our non-Jewish neighbors, however, were the first ones who called and asked what they could do to help with the security vigils.  That is, until they learned that a very troubled young orthodox Jewish boy had been arrested for setting the fires.  Then, they were not sympathetic.  They just said they "understood," whatever that meant.
      I never have, and never will, understand arson, suicide bombs, or any kind of terrorism done by one human being to another.  When the Infatada began in Israel, my family and I were still traveling there almost annually, and I was not afraid.  But when a classmate of my daughter's from public and religious school was blown up on a number 18 bus in Jerusalem, I  became afraid.  At first, we continued to travel to Israel, but then I became really frightened by the bombings, and now I have not been there in almost three years.  My husband Alec went without me until this year, and maybe this year I will go.  But after 9/11, I am different.  I think we all are.  I am angry that my children and my grandchildren and I continue to live with fear, and I wonder if it will ever end... and where will we be.

From Booker Gibson:  Hello, again, everyone.  I'm a little ashamed of my eyesight which left some misspelled and incomplete words in my last note.  I don't really know how to operate Spellcheck.  But I  did want to add something about the house Barnet Kellman mentioned in Green Acres.  Over the years, I've heard that residents there chipped in and bought the man  out -- so he didn't have to sell his house to an  "undesirable."  I  heard that from faculty members both at South and at Forest Road
      None of our groups have been exactly perfect.  Some of  "my" guys have used their creative imaginations to blame Jewish people for anything they can think of.  I'd  like to believe things are better now, but I'm not so sure.

From Marc Jonas:  My time in the USAF -- join the Air Force, travel by bus (from San Antonio to Biloxi) -- brought me too close to anti-Semitism.  I joined a "flight" of
40 young gentlemen, 24 of whom came from some small town outside Atlanta.
None of them had met anyone Jewish before, and none were thrilled to meet any Jews when they did.  There were a few of us -- Jewish, college-educated, from the Northeast -- and, as I said, many of them.  Not a happy mix, but, still, we survived the not-so-subtle threats to our well being.

From Zelda White Nichols:  My goodness, this has stirred up the pot.  My parents were Jewish -- my mom still is -- but she came over from England in WWII after her home had been bombed.  She was divorced and had my sister with her.  She also brought over a Catholic nanny who stayed with us until I was 8 (I was born a year after my mom met and married my dad over here).  Because we were the only family Nanny had while she was here, we helped her celebrate her holidays as well as ours. I consider myself very fortunate to have been brought up in this liberal environment where I was allowed to go to church with Nanny and put up a tree with her at Christmas.  To us, it was a celebration of life, not religion.  While I was in grade school and high school, I was taught to accept all races and religions.  Once I reached college age, I was appalled when my parents became very bigoted.  All of a sudden, they wanted their daughter to date only Jewish men.  But I guess they'd already taught me too well, because I do not see color or religion as an issue; in fact, my husband of 31 years is not Jewish and does not stand in my way of practicing my religion.  It turned out, however, that my parents were extremely prejudiced, though to this day, they will deny it.  I have experienced, on rare occasions, prejudice in, of all places, liberal California.  Still, that's only been in the last 4 years of the time we've been living here.
      Mr. Gibson, I only saw you as someone who loved music, and, as I have said before, I owe you so much for sharing that knowledge with us.  From the way you are responding to us graduates of '65, I get the feeling you are much respected by many others as well.  Hopefully, many blinders have been removed.

From Diane Fruzetti:  I usually don't have much to say, but this subject seems to have struck a deep chord in me.
      I remember many hushed conversations between adults about what was being done to keep out blacks or others that were deemed undesirable.  This mindset went on for many years.  I really did grow up thinking that the majority of people living in Valley Stream were Jewish, and I considered myself left out and less important.  Perhaps, it is the family and community that exists in Judaism.  Is it any wonder that some years later I would find myself observing shabbas and attending a reform temple.  In high school, matzo brie was my favorite breakfast.  I am not sure how to look at this.  After many years, was I still looking for some way to be part of the Jewish community, to the very angst of my own mother and father?  Or is there a greater power in my life showing me things I need to know?  While I can share the mundane journey with you, rest assured there is a very deep spiritual side to my experience.  So what you write is amazing.  Please keep talking.  Keep sharing.  The more I read, the deeper I feel, and the more I remember.  I am starting to get weepy over this.  If I could just hold each and every one of you for a few moments...

Finally, from Jerry Bittman:  All I can do is to sit here and wonder why there is hatred in the world.  It's such a detriment to people's lives to go around with hate in their hearts.  One day, maybe 20 years ago, I saw a bumper sticker out west which pretty much sums up the whole thing.  It said, "Jesus Is Coming, and Boy Is He Pissed."  And I bet He would be, if He saw how much hate still exists in the world.

On a fortunately different subject, from Denise Frango Baxter:  I wanted to write and congratulate Mary Sipp-Green on her showing in Boston.  I went over to the Arden Gallery on Newbury Street and was impressed to see the gallery full of her beautiful landscapes.  Unfortunately, it was a Sunday, and the gallery was closed, but all was easily visible through the windows.  Her work is almost mystical.  It was so nice to see her name in large print in the window of the gallery.  Mary, you make us all proud!
      A note to Jerry Bittman:  Yes, I love to dance.  That doesn't mean I'm any good at it, or that I could ever make a living doing it.  But thanks for the compliment.
      And to Mr. Gibson:  We were all so lucky to have you at South!

On an entirely different front -- the cookie jar -- again, from Marc Jonas:  When it comes to Mallomars, I'm the maven.  Mallomars did have their own website (altho' I'll be darned if I can find it) and are produced only for parts of the year -- I think between October and March or thereabouts.  Yes, they can be frozen, and, after a long, difficult day, there's nothing like a Mallomar or two.  Or 8.  My Irish wife's kids are now on board about this, and I've also got her whole family swearing by Hebrew National hot dogs.  A twin box of Mallomars lasts maybe a day in our household.
      Recently, I've even found an article about their heralded return:  Consumers Pine for Return of Mallomars.  It will be available on the Web for a limited time.  http://www.myrtlebeachonline.com/mld/sunnews/2002/10/01/news/nation/4186678.htm

Also, from Eric Hilton:  Do me a favor.  My wife and I have this trivia question we can't answer; Barbara Pech's cookie statement reminded me.  What were the cookies called that had two vanilla wafers and marshmallow in the center?  For some reason, I remember them being in a yellow box.  Please let us know if anyone remembers.  Thanks.

Some fast business, from Paul DeMartino:  The next time the New York gang is socializing, we're meeting at Lily Flanagan's in Rockville Centre.  That will be Sunday afternoon, December 8th, at 1:00 PM.  All who can are urged to attend.  We're expecting a nice turnout, and Gayle Ulrich will be up from Florida.  As usual, if directions are needed, please don't hesitate to contact me or Dennis Shapiro.
      Otherwise, I just returned from Philadelphia on business, but unfortunately was unable to connect with Marc Jonas.  I'll be going back next month, and hopefully we can get together at that time.  Right now, I'm off today, for Veteran's Day, and wouldn't you know, it's raining.  Still, I hope yesterday's tornados didn't hit Andy Dolich in Nashville.

Finally, as everyone probably knows because it's been mentioned in some of the updates, I edit all these letters.  Mostly, to keep them short and cut to the important stuff, so people will read them without simply hitting delete.  Occasionally, to make it seem that all the hard work our English teachers did actually took hold.  Plus, I'm really happy to hear from people who haven't written in before, and if that means cutting short people we hear from regularly, I don't worry, because I know they'll write again.  Why am I'm telling you all this?  Because someone asked.  And it pays to be up front.

The home page address (not a link):   hometown.aol.com/falcons1965a


Rich