On Shabbos, Rabbi Muskin, my rabbi, told the congregation about a demonstration outside the Orthodox Synagogue Adas Torah that was happening on Sunday. He said it was vital that we Jews go, so I went. Adas Torah is on Pico Blvd in the heart of Pico Robertson, my Jewish neighborhood — the neighborhood I love, with the Jewish people I love living next to. There would be a real estate exhibit at Adas, where you could buy an apartment or house in Israel. This event made the antisemites very distraught.
So hundreds showed up, many with their faces covered. If you weren’t there, take my word for it. They were jumping, howling, hooting and wishing that Jews would die. The lovely tune “From The River to The Sea,” which sounds like a Sinatra song, was blooming. The last time someone wished me dead over an apartment was when I outbid a guy for a 300-square-foot studio on the Upper East Side in Manhattan.
Standing in the middle of the protesters, I noticed that God always seems to give insane people the loudest voices. People on the Kingda Ka roller coaster at Six Flags don’t shriek, squeal, and scream half as much as these Jew-haters. They were so loud I thought my tinnitus had been cured.
I was also upset, but for different reasons. When I found out what an apartment in Israel cost, the sticker shock depressed me. Then I thought maybe if I worked harder, with God’s help, maybe one day. The other side, the antisemite side, was also agitated because they believed all the land in Israel belonged to them. Any Jew buying property was, in their view, buying their land. If that were true, I could see how this would be unpleasant. But it’s not true.
I could not believe what I witnessed in my lovely, peaceful Jewish neighborhood, which has more shuls than most neighborhoods in Israel. I was seeing people who, if they ever get their way, want to put an end to all Jews and civilization as we know it. If it weren’t for the police presence, there would have been dead Jews and others all over Pico Blvd.
Many of the antisemites did not seem like they were doing this for religious reasons. They weren’t fighting for Islam and the Koran; their fight was with Jews and with America. If you hate the Jews, you also hate America. Someone I knew said, “Hey, Mark, do some jokes and make them laugh.” I hugged him, put my head on his shoulder, and said, “My heart is broken.”
I saw Rabbi Abe Cooper from the Museum of Tolerance, who said, “Hug the man behind you. The man is Mexican and is converting to Judaism.” I turned and said, “I heard you are converting.” He smiled and said, “God bless Israel.” We hugged each other. Rabbi Cooper said it looked like a Jewish woman might be getting into trouble, so we walked over to ensure she was alright.
I saw two Jewish boys, maybe 12-14 years old, pinch a Palestinian woman’s behind. I yelled, “Don’t do that. It’s wrong.” They ran off. After showing my ID, I was permitted to enter the exhibit. It had only about 10 people sitting and talking to the salespeople. One was a couple that I knew. I told the salesperson, “Whatever they want, put it on my bill. Put two apartments on my bill.” They laughed. It’s much easier for me to get a laugh from my fellow Jews than from enraged masked antisemites.
My wife and four other family members live in the neighborhood. I worry about them and the protection at the Jewish schools and restaurants. I worry about friends who dress outwardly like Jews.
About an hour after getting there. I had to leave because I had a gig with Jay Leno at The Comedy and Magic Club in Hermosa Beach that night. I went there with my wife Nancy, Judy Gruen, and her husband, Jeff. It was Judy’s birthday. They asked me if I could tell jokes after such a harrowing afternoon. The answer is yes. I killed them.
But when Jay and I kill, we hope they leave feeling better.
Am Yisrael Chai.
Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer, and hosts, along with Danny Lobell, the ‘We Think It’s Funny’ podcast. His new book is “Why Not? Lessons on Comedy, Courage and Chutzpah.”
