Tag Archives: memory

A Survivor on the Flight

My husband and I recently journeyed from New Orleans to Israel—a first trip for him, an always-sacred return for me. On our El Al return flight, seated near us was an older gentleman. We briefly noticed him when boarding the plane; he smiled and so did we, thinking little of the encounter beyond the fleeting thought that he could be anyone’s sweet grandfather.

Yad Vashem Memorial

Yad Vashem Memorial

As everyone began to settle in, my husband noticed the numbers tattooed on the older man’s arm, and pointed them out to me.

I should mention now that on this return flight, there were also dozens of Birthright Israel kids, coming home from their trip. One of the Birthright girls was seated next to the old man, and began to ask him some questions. This man opened up to her, and told his story…and as he did we moved closer to hear it firsthand ourselves.

Encounters like this are far and few between now, as the very last of our survivors are elderly. This inspiring man was very proud that at 16 years old, he had worked hard, held on, and was lucky enough to survive Auschwitz. After the war, he lived in Israel for many years and then eventually moved to the States where he settled and raised his family. His story has been recorded by Steven Spielberg and is part of the Yad Vashem exhibit.

During our trip, we had spent a day at Yad Vashem, and I felt so deeply grateful that this place existed to tell this painful part of our history in the first person. I wondered if our next generations would be able to truly understand the sacrifices that our people made, simply for being Jewish. Men and women, like the survivor now seated just a few plane seats away from us.

During the course of that eleven hour journey, word spread that a survivor was on the flight, and my heart swelled as I watched the Birthright kids each take turns to hear this man’s story. He was patient and kind as he told it over and over again, clearly understanding his “obligation,” and I could see in their eyes as they listened attentively that this next generation clearly understood the privilege of hearing his story firsthand as much as I did. I was just as captivated by watching “our” kids as I was hearing his story.

His survival is our own.

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Posted on June 18, 2014

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With Love for Mr. Awesome

MR-AWESOME-POSTERThe relationships that are forged at Jewish summer camp last forever. As a URJ Jacobs Camp camper, staff member, and camper-parent for many years, I’ve enjoyed using Facebook to reconnect with those that I spent so many great summers. However, last week, there was an outpouring of shock, heartache and love as an old camp friend/former Jacobs camper Carla Kaufman Sloan posted the following:

As some of you know we lost our awesome, big-hearted, and brilliant oldest son Calder on Sunday in a tragic and bizarre accident.

What do you say to anyone who has lost a child, a week after his 7th birthday? How do you console his mom, dad, younger brother and countless friends and relatives as Calder touched so many in his short life? In this case, some gentle guidance came from the family, and their friends, and even their son.

After the family began a fund in Calder Sloan’s memory, a friend of the family began a social media campaign with this self portrait that Calder had created just a few months ago. Thus began the “Mr. Awesome” campaign.

So here it is, with great love and respect, the staff of the Goldring/Woldenberg Institute of Southern Jewish Life, remembering the joy that Calder Sloan, “Mr. Awesome,” brought into the world during his short time here. We send loving and caring thoughts to Carla, Chris, and Caleb Sloan.

image

Here’s to Adventure. Laughter. Kindness. All in honor of Mr. Awesome.

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Posted on April 25, 2014

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Singing With Mr. Seeger

Yesterday, I learned that Pete Seeger had died.peteseeger

I didn’t hear about it first on the news. No, I heard about the passing of the legendary icon and folk singer through social media. A friend tagged me in some photos on Facebook.

The photos were from my college days, when several students at Brandeis had the privilege of learning from and singing with this iconic figure. Mr. Seeger.

I knew that it had been my sophomore or junior year of college, but I couldn’t remember the exact date, so I went digging. I found an old newsletter from Brandeis University’s International Center for Justice, Ethics, and Public Life. That’s where I confirmed the date and context of his concert and residency at my university:

“Building Community through Songs of Social Justice: Pete Seeger and Jane Sapp performed in concert to a sold-out crowd at Brandeis University’s Spingold Theatre on Monday, January 29th, 2001. Student groups performed during the concert: Women of Faith, Songleaders of the Brandeis Reform Chavurah, and Spur of the Moment.”

PeteSeegerconcertThe memories did not quite come flooding back, but rather began trickling in slowly as I looked at the pictures. It was more than a decade ago. I remembered rehearsing with Mr. Seeger, and with Jane Sapp, an activist and gospel artist. Mr. Seeger was quiet, during the rehearsal; he was frail, even then, and I remember folks being worried that his voice would go out. But he listened to our questions, nodded along, whisper-sang some of the words as we practiced.

There was only one rehearsal when we were all together, as I recall – just one night to run through the basics and the numbers everyone would sing together, and soon thereafter we would be sharing a stage with Mr. Seeger. The man who wrote “If I Had a Hammer.”

If I Had a Hammer, y’all. That’s one of those forever-songs; one of those songs that seem like they just always must have existed.

You don’t get to meet the people who write those songs, let alone sing with them.

I remember being nervous backstage, less so for myself (I was singing with a group; had I a solo, I would have been a puddle on the floor) and more so for Mr. Seeger. He was so slight, so frail at the rehearsal. I was afraid the stage lights and the crowd might knock him over.

But here’s the part of my memory that remains clear: The pure magic of Mr. Seeger in front of an audience.

Faced with the crowd, his eyes lit up. His back straightened. He grinned. He gripped his banjo, and his fingers flew across those strings faster than any normal human octogenarian’s fingers should be ably to move.

“You know the words,” he said. And people did.

And people sang with him. Not just those of us who got to be onstage, but everyone in that room. Everyone. Everyone was singing with Mr. Seeger, and laughing at his stories of traveling with Woody Guthrie and other legends. He’d tell a story, and you’d half expect Paul Bunyan to feature in it. Then he’d start singing again, and so would we. And while he’s no longer here, people will still be singing his words, all over this land.

I looked again at the date of the concert: January 29, 2001.

Exactly thirteen years ago today, I was singing with Mr. Seeger. Today, I’m remembering him. May his memory be a blessing.

This post originally appeared on Beth Kander’s personal blog, and is reprinted here with permission.  Like this post? Join the conversation through MyJewishLearning’s weekly blogs newsletter.

Posted on January 31, 2014

Note: The opinions expressed here are the personal views of the author. All comments on MyJewishLearning are moderated. Any comment that is offensive or inappropriate will be removed. Privacy Policy