Am Yisroel Chai. My Shabbat Speech

2 Jun

I was asked by my Rabbi to talk to my congregation about my trip to Israel. Here is a slightly edited version of that Shabbat speech, which I delivered on May 30.

Shabbat Shalom.

 I recently spent two weeks in Israel.  I did not visit tourist sites or go to a meeting.  I spent my time with my daughter and her husband and visits with friends and relatives who live in Israel.  What I did see was the resilience of the people of Israel.

On Sunday, 36 hours after I arrived in Israel, just as I went to take a walk, the siren sounded.  I went to the Mamad, the safe room.  A Houthi missile landed in Ben Gurion Airport.  This bombing partially cut Israel off from the rest of the world as airlines cancelled flights. Obviously, what the Houthis and terrorists want to do.

I also learned that when a siren for a rocket or missile attack goes off, take shelter wherever you can.  Just follow the crowd and they will let you in and show you what to do. When a siren sounds Israelis are one, helping each other to shelter.

On Monday, day 4, I took a bus with my daughter to Tel Aviv to meet with Ilana, who used to live in Overland Park and taught at the Hebrew Academy. She took me to Hostage Square, walking me from my daughter’s office to the site next to the Tel Aviv Art Museum.  Although I was there in the middle of the day, not when the protests usually happen, I was able to see the monuments and messages posted in honor and in memory of the hostages and those who died.   Ilana and I discussed the political situations in both the USA and Israel. How the hostage families want the war to end. Is what Trump is doing good for the Jewish people and Israel or not. What about Netanyahu?  What was going to happen.

Later we met my daughter for lunch at a restaurant in Sarona. We joined many others enjoying the lovely weather and eating outside.  We even ran into a group from Kansas City, including one of my daughter’s Hebrew Academy classmates. Life continues in Isarel. People enjoy luncheon dates. Tourist run into people they know. I have to believe, Am Yisroel Chai.

 On Thursday, Day 7,my daughter and I took the train from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. In the morning, the train was empty and quiet.  I was a little nervous about what to do if there are sirens during the trip.  But a large part of this journey is underground, through tunnels in the mountains around Jerusalem. This new train route is direct from Tel Aviv with just one stop at Ben Gurion Airport before going on to Jerusalem. It’s a great way to travel.

It ends at a new train station with easy access to the Central Bus Station and where you can catch the light rail station right in front.  We just had a five-minute walk through lots of construction to meet our family, two of my husband’s first cousins (who grew up in Wichita) and their spouses.   One couple lives in Shiloh on the West Bank.  Right after October 7, three of their sons and one so- in-law were called up. Two went to Gaza.  Now after a break, two have been called up again. In fact, that week 60,000 young men and women were called back to active duty for a new ground assault of Gaza.

 The other couple live in Sderot Boker. On October 7, the wife’s sister- in-law was among those murdered.  Her daughter is teamed with a search and rescue dog. They spent days after October 7 searching for the living and finding the dead.  We did not discuss October 7, our main topic of conversation was that Jay’s 82-year-old cousin finally had a bar mitzvah at the Kotel that morning, and the antisemitism in the USA, especially on college campuses.  Think of that, sons called up to Gaza; sister-in-law murdered on Oct 7; and we discussed the Jew Hatred in the United States.   They will persevere. Am Yisroel Chai.

The train ride back to Tel Aviv was packed.  Soldiers and students returning home with their laundry for the weekend. It made me smile.  Sixty thousand called up.  Airlines cancel flights.  Worldwide antisemitism.  And in Israel teens and soldiers are bringing their laundry home to their mothers.  As it should be. Mothers rule!!!

On Friday, Day 8, Zak’s parents, who live in Tekoa, in the West Bank,  and his brother and girlfriend, from Modiim, came for lunch.  We took pictures. We celebrated being together. We spoke about family and the future. We talked about the house they are renovating in Zichron Yaacov.  We did not discuss the war or politics. We discussed the future for our children. And we do see a future. Am Yisorel Chai.

For Shabbat . Day 9, we visited my cousins.  My mother’s first cousin is my age.  Her parents, my great uncle and aunt, survived the Shoah.  She was born when they finally felt safe.  Her daughter is an excellent chef and made us a wonderful meal. Three of her grandchildren were there as well. The oldest is in the army. She does intake for those who work in the Kiryia.  Her biggest complaint are the parents who call because their children did not make it into this elite group.  Parents are the same everywhere.  The next oldest, a boy, has one more year before the army, but already had his first meeting.  And the youngest is just 14. But he knows what’s in his future.  Families in Israel. Descendants of survivors,  still sending their precious children to fight for survival.  Am Yisroel chai.

On Monday, Day 11,  I took the bus once again to Tel Aviv.  On the way home my daughter pointed out a different bus line with the driver who poked the package.  To understand that you need to know that several months ago a few buses had explosives that blew up, luckily, when the buses were empty in Holon and Bat Yam.  A couple of days later, my daughter had to take a different bus than usual that went through Bat Yam then to Holon.  She was the last one on the bus and noticed an unattended.  She walked up to the bus driver to tell him.  He stopped the bus and looked at it and poked it. And said it was safe.  She was horrified. They had a short conversation with him ending it by saying “I don’t know why anyone would ride a bus!”  She was a bit shocked and said to him, You drive them!””  In any case he was our driver on Monday. Should I say Am Yisroel Chai?  Israeli bus drivers are tough! But it does make you think.

Later that day Edan Alexander was released by the Hamas and returned to Israel.  I did not realize how much this would touch my heart.  An American from New Jersey, Edan is from the same city where my sister and her family lived.  I have been at the high school and the Jewish Community Center.  I have walked those streets.  He survived over 500 days in hell.

Joshua 1:9: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not be terrified or dismayed (intimidated), for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.” 

Our returned hostages have an entire country supporting them. People lined the streets to the hospital to welcome him home.  Hostage Square was packed that evening. Am Yisroel Chai.

Tuesday, Day 12, my daughter and I go to the large outdoor mall in Tel Aviv to meet her friend with her 2-month-old daughter and her father.  Her friend’s first cousin, Maya, was slaughtered at the Nova concert.  I planted a tree for her and said Kaddish on October 7, 2024. We had lunch together, in a restaurant where we were served by both Jewish and Moslem wait staff. My daughter and her friend spent two hours in SheLev baby store going through everything Lara would need.  While her Dad walked the baby, I stayed mostly with the girls. They suffered a horrible loss on October 7, but now it was all about the Babies.  And there are lots of babies in Israel. They are having a baby boom!  The people of Israel will continue to live.  Am Yisroel Chai.                 

Later that day, my daughter drove me. to a kfar near Natanya, where I have distant relatives. The descendants of survivors, whom I met when I lived in Israel in 1974 and 1975. The families had lost touch over the past 35 years, when my grandfather and the survivors passed away.  But now we were reunited and could share our family stories. My distant cousin, whose father lost his entire first family in the Shoah, his wife and four children, as well as his parents and all his siblings, was the oldest son of the second marriage. The marriage of two survivors.  My cousin and his wife have 7 children, 40 grandchildren and 19 great grandchildren so far. I do not know how many children his siblings have, but I know there are many. The people of Israel will continue to live. Am Yisroel Chai vChayon.

At this point, I will add that our current president’s trip to the middle East was about to begin.  There was consternation in Israel because neither he nor anyone else from the government was coming to Israel. There was some anxiety in the air, but at the same time not. Israel was already isolated. 

My final trip to Tel Aviv was on Wednesday, Day 13. I met with a childhood friend who moved to Israel 30 years ago. We had lunch at the Azrielli Mall in Tel Aviv.  Her daughter has finished her military service and now will be an English teacher.  Her son will go into the army later this year.  Her husband works at Ben Gurion Airport to screen those coming into and out of the country. We also discussed the Jew Hatred in the USA and around the world.   And keeping safe. Am Yisroel Chai.

After I walked her to the train station, I walked back to Serona, where I did my one tourist activity, I took a tour of Serona.  It was a welcome moment of just enjoying seeing something of Israel I hadn’t seen before, as docent took us into buildings that are usually locked and told us the story of Serona. Originally settled in the late 1800s by the German Templars, Serona was the site of the first government of Israel, the first Bank of Israel, the first military base. It was the Kiryia.  Having this place as the first seat of government enabled Israel to govern from a safe spot.  Now, of course, the main seat of government is in Jerusalem.  Whereas there is a new Kiryia is in Tel Aviv.

My daughter’s’s office is in one of the skyscrapers that now surround Serona. On the three days I took the bus into Tel Aviv with her, I got to see where she worked and meet with her colleagues.  The CyberWell office is dedicated to searching for and helping to eliminate Jew hatred on social media platforms.  They see so much hatred online that part of their workload includes monthly meetings with a wellness team to ease their stress. The efforts to stop the hate is ongoing and not easy as social media platforms track it mainly in English, and the hate comes in all languages.  But they have the technology and the people who will work to stop it. The Jewish people find ways to survive, we are resilient. Am Yisroel Chai.

On a daily basis, I walked the streets of Holon and Tel Aviv feeling safe.  Some days after work and dinner, when it was dark and cooler, my daughter and I walked around Holon for a mile or so.  We passed the many playgrounds with their bomb shelters, we passed stores, some that are open all night.  We passed my favorite bakery. The bread in Israel is so delicious, so we often stopped there to buy challah rolls or bagelas or pastry.  One side of the bakery was all pareve.  I was in bakery heaven.

My last night, we had one last siren before my trip ended.  In all I experienced four sirens and four trips to the Mamad.  By the end, I no longer felt anxious when the sirens went off.  I knew the military was doing its best to keep us all safe with its defenses and its alerts to the people. I knew that the people of Israel were strong, as was I, and this too shall pass, and we will remain as always.   Am Yisroel Chai v Chaiyon.

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Little Tikes Purple Princess Cars Are Needed

1 Jun

Years ago, I wrote a blog about my daughter’s purple princess Little Tikes car and how much it meant to her to have it returned to our family after 17 years being loved by another family.  (See blog below.)

I thought that was the end of my need to comment about this car. I was wrong.

Recently I received a message from a man in the United Kingdom who was looking for that very same Little Tike’s purple princess car as his daughter had loved hers as well, and he now had a granddaughter he wanted to have the same experience.  He asked if he could buy my car.

I told him I felt his pain, but since I had a family member who was loving it, and I had promised my daughter to never give that car away again, I could not help him.

He was happy I had someone enjoying it, and that he would continue his search!

When I told the story to my daughter, she had a different point of view.  “Mom,” she said, “Maybe you can start a campaign to connect people with purple cars.” 

Maybe I can!!!  What a great idea!!! I like doing things to make peopel happy. This could be one of those callings.

I have two thoughts.

First:

 If you have a little Tikes purple princess car, or a pink one, please comment on this blog.  If you are looking for one of these cars, please check this blog and comment!

I am hoping I can help all people who love these cars find new homes for them with loving children. 

Second: 

Little Tikes are you listening?  People want to have this lovely Purple Princess car.  Perhaps you can start making it again!!!

In our home the Purple Princess Car will always be loved. So Little Tikes, I am sure it will be loved by families everywhere.

PS: I did contact Little Tikes and had a nice conversation with a representative. She sadi: Wewill certainly pass your request on to our Marketing Team for consideraton. Thank you for shairing and loving our product.”

In response to my saying that the purple princess car has such personality. She responded. “It does. Itwas called the Model T.” And added that her son loved it as well!!!

The Purple Princess Car is Home!

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Renewing A Family Connection: My Mother’s Day Gift

21 May

While in Isarel, I finally renewed a family connection which started 50 years ago. When I was 20, I met two survivors of the Shoah. They were married to sisters before the war. The sisters perished in the Shoah, but the two men remained connected for the rest of their lives.

I have written about both of these men before, (Lieb) Zissel Feuer and Shalom Hollander.  Both were distant cousins of my grandfather. But their wives were his first cousins.   I wrote about meeting Zissel and Shalom and what happened to them during and after the war, and a bit about my contact with them in Israel between 1974-76. (See blogs below.). Over the years my perception of the two changed, as I learned more about their lives.

Now I have a different story to share, because I have met Shalom’s oldest son Chaim, as well as the great nephew of his first wife, who is also my third cousin, Jeff, and his daughter.

For me it was a meeting that completed a story.  For them, I hope I was able to fill in stories about the family and answer question about the family before the war.  As we shared our stories, I could see where my knowledge and theirs combined and differed.  I spoke about meeting Zissel at the bakery in Tel Aviv across from the Shuk HaCarmel.   Chaim smiled while I told my stories about meeting Zissel there each time I came to Tel Aviv.  Chaim, of course, knew the bakery and even Zissel’s address.  Although I had been at his apartment several times, I did not remember the address.  But we had other shared memories. 

I think when I talked about the bakery, Chaim knew then that I was really a relative.  I really had met Zissel. I don’t think he thought I was lying , but he had never heard of me, yet there I was a family member from the USA, unknown to him. Also when I told him about meeting his father, how elegant he seemed.  And Chaim agreed, his dad had that old world charm.

Chaim actually made me feel better about Zissel. I knew he did not have a family.  Shalom was not related to him at all, once their wives died.  Shalom. remarried.  Zissel never did.  But Chaim told me that Zissel was always part of Shalom’s family. He came to be with them for all the haggim, the holidays.  That eased my heart.  Really, I am tearing up even now.  For me Zissel was such a sad soul. So to know he was not alone, helped.

We talked about the importance of what Ziseel and Shalom did after the war to help others from Mielec who survived and to keep the memory of those who were murdered. Shalom purchased the land where a mass burial of 800 Jews were buried and put up a fence and a marker.  Both men also testified against those who were the murderers, as Zissel had done for the murderer of my great grandmother, his aunt by marriage.  Our discussion filled in so many blanks for me.

Chaim and his wife gave me memoirs written by both Shaom and his second wife, Ita, about what happened during the war.

I in turn could tell them about those who made it to the United States before the war.

How Julius/Judah/Yidel Amsterdam, my grandfather’s uncle, came first.  As other relatives came to the New York/New Jersey area, he gave them a choice. You can be a butcher or a baker.  There was a cousin who was a butcher, and Uncle Yidel was a baker.  My grandfather chose to be a baker.  Chiam laughed as I told the story, because his uncle who went to the states became a butcher.  I said he was probably helped by my great uncle Yidel as well.

With Jeff, I could talk about his great uncle Morris, who lived in Helena, Montana.  My grandfather always stayed in touch with his first cousin.  I knew one of this sons because when I moved to Kansas, they gave me Jack’s phone number. He lived in Denver.  To my grandfather and his cousin Morris, this was close enough. We never actually met, but we spoke several times.

For me I have a feeling of completion.  When I found out about these relatives, through the research of Izabela S.  I knew I had to see them when I was in Israel visiting my daughter.  They lived quite a distance.  But my daughter said that this was my Mother’s Day gift.  It was the one thing I really wanted to do.  So we took the long drive from Holon to a small Kfar near Netanya.

Over the years of my research I have found out how the members of my family were murdered during the Shoah.  I know how a small numbered survived.  I know that they are not forgotten.  I am not the only who keeps their memory alive within the family.  And there are people like Izabela in Poland, who also work to keep the memory of the  Jewish population alive.

I never thought I would ever want to go to Trzciana or Mielec.  My grandfather never wanted to go back there after his family was murdered.  But now I do want to go. I what to see where they lived. Where Shalom and Zissel created a Jewish community after the war. Where the Amsterdam group hid in the nearby forest. The town where my great grandmother was murdered. The mass grave where my great aunts are probably buried.

But most of all I am so glad that I found out what that Zissel and Shalom did after the war.  I, as a young woman, saw both Zissel and Shalom as such sad people talking about Death.  I did not hear the stories about what they did to give people a reason to LIVE after the war. And to create a place of memory for those murdered.

I now know that Shalom and his wife, who was also a survivor from Mielec, had four children, a girl who survived whom they adopted and three sons.  Chaim and his wife have seven children, 40 grandchildren and 19 great grandchildren so far. 

I know that Zissel was not alone.  That Zissel and Shalom stayed connected throughout their lives.  I also know that Zissel died in Holon.  I think he might be buried there. So next time I am in Israel, I hope to find his grave and put place a rock of remembrance on his matzevot.

The Trial For the Murder of Chava “Gimplowa” Feuer
An Unexpected Email Reveals Family Shoah History
The Years of The Shoah: Lieb Sussel Feuer/Zissel Feuer And Schulim/Shalom Hollander

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Bomb Shelters Versus Tornado Shelters

7 May

Since my experience with the air raid sirens going off my second day in Israel, I have a new Israeli obsession: Bomb Shelters.

It really is an easy obsession for me to have because living in the Midwest has lead me to a minor obsession with tornado shelters. Each time we have purchased a house, I have looked carefully through the basement looking for the ideal storm shelter. Lowest level, center of house or totally underground, no windows, close to a staircase (staircases are built extra strong) and nothing heavy overhead. For example, you do not want to be sitting in a tornado shelter under a baby grand piano or a refrigerator.

I can almost hear my favorite weather man, Gary, go through his tornado ‘rant’: children who are home alone, do not worry, just go to the lowest level, small, center most room in the house, no windows. This might not be his exact words, but they echo in my mind.

So it is easy for me to transfer my intense concern about tornado shelters to the essential concern for a bomb shelter.

In Israel most people live in apartment buildings. The old ones were not built with bomb shelters. Instead when the sirens go off, the people sit in their staircases…center most area of the house, no windows, reinforced concrete. A relative safe place to sit through a barrage of rockets or bombs, I guess. As I wrote in an earlier blog, my daughter’s apartment has a Momad, a room in her apartment built of extra thick walls, reinforced concrete, special window which has a thick metal plate that sides out and a thick metal door. It is easy to get to and somewhat safer than the rest of the rooms.

But what do you do when you are outside and you need to take shelter. Well there is a system. My daughter took me on a walk to explain sheltering when out side. First she suggested that I hide under an apartment building. In Israel most apartment buildings have car parking underneath and the first apartments are on the ‘second floor.’

She said, “Go to the North or West side of the house and take cover there. Those sides are safer.” She also told me to try the door. If it was unlocked just go in. “What! to a building where I don’t know anyone?” “Of course,” she responded. “During a siren of course they want you to come in.” Or if I am near a store, just go in.

I have to admit that for a tornado siren, we go to the north and east side of the basement. The storms usually come from the southwest, so I do have to change that orientation. And although I would not run into a stranger’s house during a tornado, I definitely have been known to enter a store I was near by when the tornado sirens went off.

But the best is to be near a bomb shelter and go into it. In Israel, the government takes bomb shelters seriously! And there are many community bomb shelters throughout the country. This is definitely why, even thought tens of thousands of rockets, drones, bombs, and missiles, have been launched towards Israel, tens of thousands of people have not been killed. Instead they had the ability to take shelter from the attacks and be somewhat safe.

Just as we in the Midwest know that in many public buildings there are signs to lead us to the tornado shelter, and so even though we have many horrendous tornados, the death toll has gone down over the years.

After my daughter pointed out where to hide under a building, we walked the two blocks to the little strip shopping area near her apartment. In the back was the entrance to the shelter. It is near a staircase, in the center of the building. Gary the weatherman would be so happy. Bomb shelters are like tornado shelters in many ways!!

Tesla Playground and shelter.

As we continued on our walk along the streets and alleys of Holon, we walked through many small parks. Within a one mile radius of my daughter’s apartment building are dozens of small parks, day care centers and schools. Located in the center of many of them are bomb shelters. Which makes sense, because children cannot run as quickly as adults. So best to have the shelter close at hand. What I really liked about the shelters is that the outsides are colorfully decorated to make them look cheerful and part of the fun of the park. In Holon, I think the same artist decorated most of them.

Another playground and shelter

I thought about how difficult it would be for children to stop playing to run into the shelter, hide for ten minutes or so before coming out. And then I thought back to when my children were young. They NEVER argued when there was a tornado warning. When the sirens sounded, we all immediately went downstairs to the shelter. Sometimes they grabbed a cat if they could. But there was NEVER an argument. Never a discussion. Never rebellion. Taking shelter was the immediate goal. And then when the danger was over, we left the shelter. Sometimes it was 15 to 20 minutes. And sometimes we were down there for an hour or more. But when it was over, life just resumed. So I have to assume that children in Israel have the same response to a siren for a bomb attack as my children had for a tornado warning. Don’t argue, take shelter.

I do have to admit one caveat to taking shelter: Dads and husbands.. When my husband was home during a storm and tornado warning, sometimes he would stand outside for a while and watch the weather. This to me was not the brightest thing to do. But as many know, you a watch lots of videos of tornados heading towards someone’s home, and then finally someone yells, “We need to go inside now.” In Israel the same type of poeple stand outside and take videos of the Iron Dome rockets intercepting the missiles or bombs sent into Israel. I don’t quite understand this desire to watch in real time. But I do admit watching these videos myself.

But there is a major difference between a tornado siren and an air raid sirens. The intent. For a tornado you have to watch out for the debris. For a rocket/missile you have to watch out for the shrapnel. Similar but not exactly the same. Nature doesn’t take aim at your home because it hates you, it just is. While bombs falling around you are sent purposefully to kill you. That does change the dynamic of sheltering.

Although tornado shelters are here to stay, people should not have to have bomb shelters in their homes or their play grounds. Humans cannot stop tornados, but they can stop bombing each other with intent to kill. It is time for it to end.

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Israel Version 2025

4 May

I noticed a difference the first evening in my daughter’s apartment in Holon, just south of Tel Aviv. We were unpacking my suitcases and going through the items I had brought for her, when I noticed the sounds of airplanes or jets in the sky.

I said, “I don’t remember so many planes flying overhead to the airport.

My daughter: “Mom, those are not commercial airlines.”

Me: “oh”

Then she added, “It is Shabbat, commercial airlines don’t fly. But military is exempt.”

In the morning I learned that the IDF had bombed part of Syria to protect the Druze population.

The peaceful view in Holon one hour after the siren.

I was not unaware of what it was like to live in Israel. I had studied in Israel for a year attending Hebrew University from July 1974 to July 1975. I had some experience with war time in Israel. The Yom Kippur War had been the previous October 1973. Most of the students I met had survived that war. Even the ones who did not have physical scars, had mental ones. And we all knew to report any backpack or bag that looked suspicious or was unattended. When on a bus, the driver always checked to make sure every backpack or bag had an owner on the bus. I had heard explosions and been to areas perhaps I should not have been to with my friends who had been called up for reserve duty so many years ago.

I had been in Israel with my children and parents in December 2004/January 2005 for a two-week trip. Israel was on high alert. It was in the process of leaving Gaza and turning it over to the Egyptian/Palestinians who were living there. The settlers who had to be removed were protesting. We had to avoid some places. And at times we saw the movement of tanks heading toward the Gaza envelop. I wonder what would have happened if Israel had not left Gaza. Would it had been better if Hamas had never been elected as the government there? If Israel had just kept its oversight? I know that the government thought/hoped this would bring peace. Unfortunately it brought 20 years of bombing, hate and then pogrom.

My husband and I were in Israel in November 2008 for a medical meeting where my husband was a presenter. We stayed after the meeting to visit our daughter in Beer Sheva where she was a graduate student at Ben Gurion University. One day the three of us went to an Air Force Museum. The young soldier who was our tour guide was a little tense. I noticed that lots of jets were taking off and landing. I asked the guide a question about it. Her response was they were doing drills. When we left the museum, I turned to my daughter and said something is going to happen. Before we left Israel, a few days later, I told my daughter to be careful. To pay attention to what was happening, I was extremely worried. Six weeks later was Cast Lead, Israel’s response to the continued bombings from Gaza/Hamas.

In the summer of 2016, a few months before my daughter and son-in-law got married, the couple purchased an apartment in Holon. “Mom,” she said, “you will be happy to know that our apartment has a ‘mamad’, a bomb shelter.” “I am happy your apartment has one,” I responded. “But I am sad you have to have one.”

In November 2022 I was in Israel with my daughter when the government tested the siren alarm system. It was the first time I had been in Israel that I heard the sirens go off. Although it was just a test, it made me aware that my daughter actually used her mamad. Something I still feel very sad about.

I have been on the phone with my daughter several times when she has had to take shelter. When the sirens were going off. Once when she was at the University, when I was on the phone with her, I actually heard the bomb hit, it was so close. And just last week, before I came here, we were talking when the sirens went off and she and her husband ran to their shelter. There have been ballistic missiles from Yemen and the Houthis for two years now. These were so large, that even when they were shot down, the shrapnel could cause damage.

I arrived at Ben Gurion Airport on May 2. This morning, 40 hours after my arrival, on May 4, 2025, I had my own mamad experience. This morning after they went to work, I planned to take a walk. But at 9:22 am, just as I was preparing to leave, the sirens went off. It was not a drill or a test. It was the real thing. Everything outside stopped. I went into the mamad. Here is what ensued as per our text conversation:

“The sirens are going off. how do I close the window?” Me

“Go to your room. There’s a metal slide on the right side. Pull it hard.” my daughter

“I cannot get the slide. The sirens stopped.” Me

“Or just stay away from the window. Stay in the room 5 minutes.” My daughter

“Ok” me

“Looks like the Houthis, so there’s probably nothing near us.” My daughter

“Ok I don’t think I will go for a walk right now.” Me

“Ok. Usually it’s just one.” My Daughter

“Well I was just going to go when the sirens went off. And I don’t know where the shelters are. Cars are starting to move. But it is still silent.” Me

“Yeah, the sirens only go off for a bit and turn off. But they say to stay inside 10 minutes. But for Houthis really 5 is fine.“ My daughter

“Everyone is still in shelters. All the construction stopped.” Me

“Everyone is leaving my shelter now. in Tel Aviv Everyone is outside.” My daughter

“We can walk tonight. You can show me where the shelters are.” Me

“Ok we’ll go on a walk tonight.”My daughter

“Sounds good. I hadn’t thought of that before. It would have freaked me out walking by myself… when the sirens went off.” Me

A bit later I found out that the missiles hit Ben Gurion Airport, 16 miles from Holon. Several people were injured. Many flights have been cancelled for 24 hours. A friend of mine, who lives in Tel Aviv, texted me. “Luckily you arrived before today’s mess at the airport. “Oy yes,” I responded.

Back in Holon, the construction is continuing. I hear the voices of children outside from the neighboring schools. I hear jets overhead. And I see commercial airplanes. The sky is a beautiful blue color. It is a lovely day, only 70 degrees. Life goes on. Just an hour later, and no one even thinks of the short time in the bomb shelters.

Israel Version 2025. Keep living.

https://www.ynetnews.com/article/rkkfwtvglg

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Beautiful Outdoor Experiences in Florida

30 Apr

On a recent trip to Florida to visit family, my cousin insisted that we couldn’t just sit at her home and visit.  We had to go somewhere and see something new. That was great because leading up to the trip, I had read about the Morikami Japanese Gardens.  It was a place I wanted to see.  It turned out to be an excellent adventure.

The lake
one of the bonsai trees
a peaceful waterfall
Watching a photo shoot

We walked the loop around the lake that had once been owned by a Japanese farmer. George Sukeji Morikami, who had come to Florida in the early 1900s with a group of other Japanese immigrants to start a farming community.  When he passed away, he donated 200 acres of his land to the community.  On this lovely piece of land, a Japanese Garden was built. The Roji-en Garden of the Drops of Dew.

We walked the loop around the lake visiting all of the 25 marked attractions.  We were lucky to have wonderful weather to walk in and out of the shade trees, the quaking bamboo that wavered and clicked together in the wind.  We saw the statures, visited the bonsai collection on Yamato Island,  sat quietly at the two rock gardens, the Contemplation Pavilions and the Nelson Family Memorial Garden.  The peaceful areas also included waterfalls. Watching the water make its way down a small hillside through the rocks was relaxing after walking for a while.

We were not the only ones enjoying the lovely weather and the beauty of the park.  There was a teen girl gettin her quinceanera photos.  I could see the park as a wonderful site for weddings! 

After our walk we had a delicious lunch at the café sitting outside and enjoying the view of the gardens.  Unfortunately, on the day we went, the museum was closed as they were getting new displays ready. But we did visit the tea room and of course donated to the garden and museum by our purchases at the gift shop.  I honestly cannot believe that I have been to Florida dozens of times, and never went to these gardens.

Alligator resting.
Storks nesting
Purple Marlin Roosts

The next day my cousin had another place to visit not far from her home.  The Wakodahatchee Wetlands and Bird Sanctuary.  This was another looped walk but instead of in a garden around a lake, we were walking on a high wooden path through marshland and trees see the roosting Storks, Cranes, Purple Marlins, Egrets, Herons in the trees, as well as a few iguanas; and the alligators down in the water.

The wetlands were opened o the public in 1996 and is a 50-acre site of previous wastewater utility property. Now free and open to the public, the wetlands is the nesting place of many different birds.  What a great way to use this land for the community and for the wildlife.  It is just wonderful place to spend an hour or so.

It was amazing how close we could get to the birds. I do not think I have the words to describe the scene, so you will have to see my photos. But I will say this was not a quiet and peaceful walk, as the squealing of the young birds calling out to their parents for food was quite loud. 

I was walking around taking photos with my phone.  But there were many people with professional size cameras and massive telescope lenses to get much better photos.  In fact, throughout our walk, I kept thinking about a former student of mine who takes the most amazing bird and wildlife photos.  I wished he was there to enjoy the sights. Below is the website for the Wetlands which includes a live web stream!! Enjoy!

My recommendation to everyone who goes to Palm Beach County is to see both of these wonderful outdoor adventures. I am so glad my cousin insisted that we visit them.

Home
https://discover.pbcgov.org/waterutilities/Pages/Wetlands.aspx

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A Small Beacon of Hope On Yom HaShoah

27 Apr

My husband loves to assign movies to holidays that impact us.  For Fourth of July, we watched 1776; for Ground Hogs Day, we watch Ground Hogs Day; for Israel Independence, we watch Exodus; and for Yom HaShoah, we watch Schindler’s List.

I have known for several years now that one of my grandfather’s cousins, one of the very few who survived the Shoah, was on Schindler’s List and survived as a member of his work force.  It made me think of this movie in a different light, because now one of those working and surviving was someone I once knew. 

But this year, my view of the movie will change even more.  For the first time, I now know that my grandfather’s cousin, Shalom, was one of the people who served as a pallbearer for Oscar Schindler at his funeral.  And for the first time, I have found out that my distant cousin was one of at least 10 people from his community who were saved by Schindler.

(Many thanks to Izabela Sekulska and Mayn Shtetele Mielec for discovering this information.)

I had to wonder, did they know each other?  There were about 5,000 Jewish souls who lived in the area of Mielec.  Only 100-200 survived.  Once they became part of the Schindler work force, of course they new each other. But did they work together to survive?  Did they become part of this unusual group together?

I know of one other story like Schindler’s list. My good friend’s mother and grandmother survived the Shoah with about 100 other women who worked making clothes and shoes for the German army.  The man who ran this factory saved them several times.  Once keeping them at the factory even over night when there was typhus disease raging through the camp.  A second time he actually went to the camp and getting his workers out from a transport to a death camp, saying he did not want to train new workers.  

Did he do this because he was emotionally attached to his workers?  Did he really work to save them?  We will never know. But my friend’s mother and grandmother survived. I knew them as well.  Their story can be found at the San Antonio’s Holocaust Memorial Museum. 

So on this Yom HaShoah, I will have a small beacon of light thinking about my grandfather’s cousin, Shalom; my girlfriend’s mother, Anna, who were saved by their work in a factory.  And I will have hope because people like Izabela in today’s Poland work to keep the Jewish cemeteries in good order and to find out what happened to the Jewish people who disappeared over 80 years ago.

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Pre-Passover/Pesach Ponderings

8 Apr

At 70 years old, I envisioned that I would be sailing through my retirement years comfortable with my world.  Enjoying my family, watching my country continue to flourish, seeing the United States and its reputation be strong in the world, as my husband and I continued to travel and enjoy visiting new places.

This is a far distant vison than the one my great grandmother faced 82 years ago, when in April 1943, she was murdered by the Germans at age 70 in Poland.  It was the Thursday before Easter, and after her husband and four children had been murdered and her farm and property had been confiscated by the Germans.

My great grandmother is a bit different than the many unknown who were murdered during the Shoah, as there is a record of her last day taken during the trial held after the war for her murder.  I know what she did, what she said, and who killed her. (See blog below.)

For fifty years I had been on a quest to find out what happened to my grandfather’s family.  A quest that started after I spent my sophomore of college in Jerusalem.  A year when I met many members of my family who survived the Shoah and ended up living in Eretz Israel, the land of Israel.

When I returned home, I was the child who said, I need to know.  I sat with all of my grandparents to hear their stories.  I wrote everything down. In the 1970s there was no internet, no easy way to discovered what happened. But I kept my papers and over the years when I met other members of my family I wrote down what they said.  And slowly, slowly the stories came out.

In some instances, I found out history that perhaps I did not want to know.  I learned about my father’s family who came to the USA in the 1870s.  I learned of both tragedies and joys.    

I learned about a great uncle who ended up in a mental institution, a great aunt who died from the Spanish flu, multiple children who died in their infancies; family menbers who did not speak to each other and a child who was raised by an aunt and did not know till she got engaged.

For my mother’s family, both of her parents came to the USA in the early 1920s, I learned about the hundreds of cousins, siblings, parents, all many of relatives that were murdered in the Shoah, as well as ones who had been saved.

I learned about relatives who were on Schindler’s List.  Those who were saved by the Kinder Transport and ended up in England.  A cousin who survived the Kelce Pogrom. Others who hid in the forests near their home town and formed a group like the one in the movie, “Defiance,” but these were my family.

I learned about a relative who converted to Catholicism before the war, but during the war she tried to save her sibling and her children. She was not successful.  Their bodies were found buried in a field when construction was being done about three years ago. The driver of the vehicle was the grandson of the relative who converted, so Catholic himself.  He had dug up the bodies of his own dead Jewish great aunt and her family.  Can you imagine the irony of this? 

I learned that owning property or having money does not save you.  What might save you is luck, fortitude, or relatives who might have a chance to get your out.  But you also had to make your own luck.  You had to want to survive.

My great grandmother finally gave up. Everyone was dead, she had been hiding in the forest with others for a while.  But then she was done. It was too much sorrow. Too much loss.

In this world with the chaos and uncertainty surrounding the economy; the round up of immigrants, even those with legal residences; the job losses; the attacks on education; the attacks on the rights of LGBTQ communities; the rise in anti-Semitism and hatred toward Israels and Jews, I have had to re-evaluate.

Could our property be confiscated?  Could our savings be stolen?  Could people in the USA be forced to hide in the woods to stay safe?  Will people just give up?

Am I really so different from my great grandmother whom I am named after?  Should I consider my own exit strategy?  Believe me my mind often mulls over the options. 

But it is the Tuesday before Pesach and Easter.  It is two days before the 82nd anniversary of my great grandmother’s murder by the German mayor of Czermin, Jukub Hesler.

So I am pondering and considering and hoping that our Constitution is strong enough. That our courts are strong enough. That our elected politicians remember who they vow allegiance to:  The CONSTITUTION of the United States of America.  And who they serve, the people of their states and districts.

I wish everyone a Zissel Pesach, a happy Pesach.  And I wish all who celebrate Easter a happy Easter.  And I wish to everyone throughout the countries of the Earth a peaceful and joyful 2025.

The Trial For the Murder of Chava “Gimplowa” Feuer

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March 9, 1942: The Destruction Of Mielec’s Jewish Population

4 Mar

On March 9, it will be the 83rd anniversary of the deportation and mass murder of the Jews of Mielec.  The end of the 5000 Jews who lived in the city of Mielec and its surrounding villages, 50 percent of the total population of the area.  The home to my grandfather and his family.  His father, mother, brothers and sisters were among the Jews were marched out of the town.  Some were killed along the way and buried in a mass grave, some sent to death camps where they were murdered.  My great grandmother somehow escaped this but died months later, murdered by a German, turned in by her old neighbors.  (See blogs below.)

My Great Grandfather
Murdered, but not forgotten. Both photos by Izabela Sekulska.

Thanks to the amazing Izabela Sekulska, my family members are now remembered.  Since March 9, 2020, a group of Polish people from Mielec remember the deportation of the Jews of Mielec.  They will gather once again at the mass grave, read out the names of 105 more people who they now know.  So far they have made stones for 1000 Jewish residents who were murdered in the Shoah. Included in this list are eight of my relatives. Gimple Feuer, Chava Amsterdam Feuer, Taube Amsterdam Feuer, Nachum Amsterdam Feuer, Shimon Amsterdam Feuer, Ceia/Tzilia Amsterdam Feuer, as well as Natan Amsterdam and Tauba and Marcus Amsterdam.  For each a stone has been painted and will be left on the mass grave. You can learn more about their work on the Facebook Group, Mayn Shtelele Mielec.

I thank those who work to keep their memories alive in Poland.  Who do not forget the mass graves of Jews still buried and unknown.  In my heart I will be there on March 9 and I remember those who died due to hatred in the past. Now I have a date to say Kaddish for my family.

I will think about those still hostages in Gaza, also murdered and tortured and held against their will while the world is mainly silent.  And I will think how once again the Red Cross and the humanitarian agencies did nothing to save them.  Just as they did basically nothing during the Shoah.

I will think about the UN, whose voice was silent during the brutal rape and murders of Israelis and others who were caught in in the Hamas murder spree.  Who voice was silent for 18 months toward Jewish hostages and Israel, but not silent in still supporting Hamas.  I will think about the UN who recently cut off all aid to Yemen after the Houthis took over 20 UN workers hostage. But who did not cut off aid to Hamas after their violent attacks.  Double standards for sure.

I will think about college students and professors who turned in support for Hamas and tormented and attacked Jewish students, faculty and administrators.  And we now know that Hamas was infiltrating these groups and had a hand in the protests.  And I will think about the university administrators who said the words “kill all Jews” had to be taken into context before they could say this was wrong.  I am glad that now those who are violent and threatening are beginning to realize this is not free speech and are expelled from their universities.  I have nothing against a civil exchange of ideas, but the violence and threats are not that.

I will think about the current administration and its two-sided ideology.  On one hand saying it is working to end anti-Semitism, but on the other hand getting rid of DEI initiatives that hurt minorities and the attacks on Hispanic members of our communities using the threats of ICE to scare and threaten them. As well as their attacks and efforts to silence the LGBTQ+ community, just as the Nazis also tortured and murdered those who were homosexual.

I will think about the last two years, the present and the future.  I will think about the fact that my husband told me next time I visited our daughter in Israel I should look into getting Israeli citizenship. Is America ever going to be great again for the Jewish citizens?  I am not sure.  I know many think that the current president supports the Jews. But I see something totally different.  A support for Israel because it fits his needs now, while at the same time supporting those who would make the USA a  nation with against those of different religions and ideologies.

But I will also think about the helpers.  Those in Poland who remember what happened and are trying to make a change.  Those in the USA who speak out against baseless hatred. And I will try to have hope that this insidious evil that seems to have arisen will soon slither back in to the underworld where it belongs.

The Trial For the Murder of Chava “Gimplowa” Feuer

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My Own Secret Annex

5 Feb

Last week the plumber came to my house to fix an outdoor faucet that was leaking. He told me that if things went well, he would be able to do it from the outside.  It did not go well.  The faucet was over 30 years old and had seized up. 

We thought he would have to cut a hole in the drywall of my finished basement.  But first he started looking around.  Could he go through the closet? That would not work.

Was there another way. Also, he wondered how they could put both water and gas pipes on the  without some sort of an access.  He continued to searched around.

Finally he pointed to what I thought was an air conditioner exchange during our five years in this house.  “What’s that?” he questioned.  He started moving some furniture away from the wall.  Then said, “I might have to unscrew it to see what’s behind it.”

But he did not have to unscrew anything.  That air conditioner vent was hinged and held closed by a spring.  When he opened this ‘door’, there was a crawl space with access to all the pipes. There was even a light switch and a working light.

First View of Secret Space
Lights, Insulation and carpets

As he opened it, I was excited!  My first words were, “Wow, I have a secret room!” I always wanted a secret room.  Friends of mine had a hidden door that looked like a bookcase.  When you opened it, you were in the room with a dome and telescope.  I always wanted a secret hideaway.  Now I had one. 

In the meantime, the plumber was able to quickly fix my faucet issue, including replacing the old water turn off valve in this crawl space. 

After he left, I started thinking about my secret space.  It is a great spot for hiding.  No one knows it is there.  It looks just like a vent for the air conditioner.  With furniture in front of the lower part of it, no one would never think it was larger than a normal air vent. It is in a very good place for a secret space.  There is a closet in front of it.  Anyone who opens it would think went to the end of the house.  Staircases enclose it.  There is a solid wall on one side, and the outside walls on two sides, with just this tiny door to get in.

It even had lighting.  It was insulated. And although you cannot stand up in it. Three or four people could comfortably sit inside. It made me think of the secret annex that Anne Frank and her family lived it. Wait, why did my mind go there?   

Then it hit me, that I was actually thinking that this is a place where I can hide my family if needed.  I have never ever felt that way before.   But in the past 18 months as the Jew Hatred seems to grow, and the craziness builds, it was a thought that has stayed in my mind.  What would we do if people really went crazy?  I believe I am safe.  I know I have great neighbors and friends.  But then my family in Poland felt the same way before their property was confiscated and they were murdered.

I know it is not March 3, 1942, when all the remaining Jews of the area my great grandparents lived in were rounded up.  Less than 100 Jews survived from over 5,000  who lived there.  My family included two of these survivors.  I knew them.  I also know of many who died.

Honestly, would I ever have to use this secret room to hide out from those who want to do evil?  I think not.  But there is just this teeny bit of doubt that makes me feel sad for the world. 

I would rather hold on to the feeling of excitement for a secret crawl space. I would rather focus on a  discovery saved much time and money in fixing a pipe and gave me the joy of discovery something new about my home.

I am praying for our country and the world that sanity will prevail, fear will dissipate, and hate will disappear.

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