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August 6, 2009

Moving

After three years of living in the ’hood, and with a mixture of sadness and excitement, I’m moving to the ’wood — Beverlywood, a more residential and quieter section on the “Upper West Side” of Pico-Robertson.

On the surface, it feels like I’m going from downtown to the suburbs; from the jazzy to the leafy; from the playing field to the nosebleeds.

Another view, though, is that I’m actually moving to the “heart” of the ’hood. Beverlywood has a heavy concentration of Modern Orthodox families who can boast of having the ultimate Shabbat gathering place: a modern-day public square called Circle Park.

Circle Park is the beating heart of Beverlywood. On any Shabbat afternoon, the locals and their children will slowly trickle in and spend several hours just hanging out.

For families who don’t drive, watch TV or use computers on Shabbat, a park where kids can play and parents can schmooze is an ideal time-killer, especially during the long summer days.

My kids love Circle Park. Our new house is half a block away, so I assume we’ll be regular visitors, and I’ll be more in tune with the local happenings.

As it turns out, on our first Friday night in our new place, I was invited to speak at one of the bigger shuls in Beverlywood, Congregation Mogen David.

I couldn’t help but speak about the move, but I found myself speaking more about the old house than the new one. My mood was somber and reflective, maybe because we had just finished the period of Tisha B’Av. In a fit of near-blasphemous exaggeration, I spoke about how leaving a home full of great memories was like seeing your own personal temple get taken down.

I spoke about the shock of seeing an empty dining room, where hundreds of holiday meals and classes had occurred. I spoke about seeing an empty kitchen, where my kids had gathered every morning and every night, and where my mother once served moufletas for a packed house at Mimouna, a North African post-Passover celebration.

I spoke about seeing emptiness everywhere. An empty living room where we had my daughter’s sweet 16; where the Happy Minyan and JconnectLA came for Shabbatons; and where guests would learn all night long on Shavuot.

So while I was excited about moving to Beverlywood, for some reason I couldn’t stop talking about the old house. The new house looked great, but it had no memories yet, just promises.

The old house had all the memories — and it had already delivered on its promises.

Just when I needed it three years ago, it had given my kids something they’d never had: a cozy Jewish neighborhood. Instead of the sushi bars and trendy boutiques of West Hollywood, we now had Pico Glatt, Jeff’s Gourmet and 40 shuls to pick from.

We had a village.

We were now leaving that house and village for other ones nearby. Where would all the memories go — the memories that were engrained in the walls of the house we could no longer see?

Luckily for me, there was something in the parasha — Vaetchanan — that helped answer that question. It came from one of my favorite Jewish thinkers, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, chief rabbi of the United Kingdom.

Rabbi Sacks took one word from the parasha — shema (hear) — and ran with it. He explained how there were two civilizations in antiquity that shaped the culture of the West: ancient Greece and ancient Israel. The Greeks were the supreme masters of the visual arts: art, sculpture, architecture and the theater.

The Jews were different. God, the sole object of worship, is invisible, and reveals Himself only through speech. Therefore, the supreme religious act in Judaism is to listen. Ancient Greece was a culture of the eye; ancient Israel a culture of the ear.

The Greeks worshipped what they saw; Israel worshipped what they heard.

So as I spoke Friday night, I realized that a lot of my sadness about the old house originated in my eyes — what I saw and could not see. I could no longer see the visual cues that held all those great memories. My heart saw only the emptiness of lost memories.

But Rabbi Sacks’ meditation suggested that perhaps our deepest memories come not from what we see, but from what we hear.

And upon reflection, it’s true that even in our colorful old house, my most meaningful moments came from what I heard — the singing at the Shabbat table, the stories of our guests, the words of the teachers, the jokes and laughter of my children.

No matter how cool the kids’ rooms look, it is my ability to hear them — hear their needs, their ideas and their stories — that will create the deepest bonds and memories.

That will hold true whether we’re walking on Pico Boulevard, or hanging out in a beautiful park in Beverlywood.

David Suissa, an advertising executive, is founder of OLAM magazine, Meals4Israel.com and Ads4Israel.com. He can be reached at {encode=”dsuissa@olam.org” title=”dsuissa@olam.org”}.

Moving Read More »

Is Kosher Kosher? [VIDEO]

Sue Fishkoff reports on JTA that Subway is now the largest kosher chain restaurant in the world.

This proves one thing: kosher may be at a higher ethical standard than non-kosher, but it is not at the highest ethical standard.  Kosher is not as kosher as people think it is, or as it should be.

Subway is a nice place, don’t get me wrong.  One non-kosher one opened across from our office and I go there a lot for a foot long avocado and tomato sub, with lettuce, hot peppers and oil and vinegar. Good deal. The primary taste of a Subway sandwich is crunchy and cold, which of course are not tastes.  But it beats greasy, sugary and salty fast food, even if the vegetables spent more time in refrigerator warehouses than in the dirt.

The kosher Subway on Pico is a real ‘hood restaurant, especially on Sundays when it packs in families, 20 kids per young, stressed out couple it seems, and the counter help is working like Zabars fish-slicers on speed to keep up with the requests. (You can check out our video of it below.)

As for Subway’s meat sandwiches, the suppliers are Orthodox Union-certified kosher factory farms, which deliver the meat to the shops pre-sliced. At these factories,  the well-being of the animal takes second-place to cost effective meat production.  This is inherently less ethical than the higher standard of humane animal husbandry.  But as anyone who has checked out the meat prices at Whole Foods knows, you don’t get 9 dollar corned beef subs by pasturing cows on grass and killing them via state-of-the-art humane techniques.  According to failedmessiah.com:

I’m truly sorry to say this but, as things now stand, your only true option if you care about humane slaughter and humane growing of chickens, cattle and other kosher food animals is to go veg. That shouldn’t be the case. Sadly, however, it is.

That was written in 2007, before all the Agriprocessor folk, responsible for doing more to harm the “kosher” brand than 100 years of Reform Judaism, headed to the Big House.

Now, it may be that Subway, Wise and other kosher slaughterers adhere to the highest standards, but given the industry’s past the bottom line is this: the burden of proof is on them.  Kosher consumers deserve, and must demand, absolute transparency in the entire kosher food chain, from husbandry to slaughter, including of course the treatment of employees.  Without that the idea of kosher—one of the great gifts of the Jews to the world—will remain suspect, if not ridiculous.

Here’s Sue’s piece, followed by our Subway video…..

Eat fresh, eat kosher: Subway the largest U.S. kosher restaurant chain

By Sue Fishkoff

SAN FRANCISCO (JTA)—What’s the largest kosher restaurant chain?

Mendy’s? Six branches, seven if you count the meat and dairy counters at New York City’s Grand Central Station.

Dougie’s? Five branches in New York and New Jersey.

Don’t even bring up Nathan’s Famous—it stopped making kosher hot dogs altogether.

The dark-horse winner is Subway, the made-to-order sandwich giant poised to open its ninth kosher franchise Aug. 18 inside the Michael-Ann Russell Jewish Community Center in North Miami Beach, Fla. New Subways opening in Indianapolis and Skokie, Ill., will make it 11 by the end of the year. Five more are planned for next year.

Subway, the second largest fast-food franchise in the world, didn’t set out to be No. 1 in the kosher market. Staffers at company headquarters in Milford, Conn., seemed bemused by the news.

“Really?” laughed Kevin Kane in the marketing department.

Sure, 11 kosher stores pales in comparison to the 22,000 non-kosher Subways in the United States, or to the hundreds of halal Subways in England and the Arab world. But it’s more than anyone else is offering.

And it’s a creative solution for Jewish community centers that want to offer kosher food but don’t want to take the financial risk themselves. Some would rather offer no food than violate kosher law.

“There are very few JCCs that run successful food establishments,” says Eric Koehler, director of the JCC of Northern Virginia, which has never provided food services in its building. “In this economy, it doesn’t make sense to have something that loses $20,000 to $30,000 a year.”

That’s why the Mandel JCC in Cleveland rented space to the country’s first kosher Subway in May 2006. The center had offered only kosher dining options since it opened in 1986, but none lasted very long. When Michael Hyman arrived in 2004 as the center’s new director, he closed the building’s last struggling cafe without knowing whether he could replace it.

In stepped Ghazi Faddoul, a Lebanese Christian who had opened 100 Subways in Cleveland and was willing to give kosher a try with the clout of a global chain behind him.

Ham and bacon were removed from the menu, the “cheese” is made of soy, and the Seafood Sensation sandwich is filled with imitation crab. Two microwaves and toaster ovens ensure that fish and meat are kept separate, a consideration for more observant Jews. There is a full-time mashgiach, or kosher supervisor, and the restaurant is closed on Shabbat.

“It’s been wildly successful,” Hyman says.

In June, the JCC of Greater Washington in Rockville, Md., picked up on Cleveland’s experience, opening a kosher Subway in a space formerly filled by a kosher Dunkin’ Donuts. Executive director Michael Friedman says the center has been getting much more foot traffic since it opened, particularly from Orthodox Jews.

“There aren’t that many kosher restaurants in the D.C. area, so it’s nice for the community to have this option,” Friedman says. “And it’s great for us because it gets people into our building who might not otherwise be there.”

The Miami Beach JCC also looked to Cleveland’s example. The center’s director, Gary Bomzer, notes that the building already has an in-house kosher caterer, but no sit-down restaurant.

“Bringing in a national chain gives us real credibility,” he explains. “A brand name like Subway provides more than a cup of coffee.”

The remaining kosher Subways are freestanding stores: two in New York City, in Brooklyn and Queens, as well as one in Cedarhurst in the city’s Long Island suburbs; and one each in Los Angeles, Baltimore and Kansas City.

The U.S. stores are the only kosher Subways. Israel opened the world’s first kosher Subway in 1992 but the operation, which reached 23 stores at its peak, shut down in 2004 after the original manager died.

Subway spokesman Les Winograd says the company used its experience with halal, the Muslim standard, to learn how to deal with kashrut challenges such as sourcing specific meat and following strict dietary laws. The first halal Subway opened in Bahrain in 1984, followed by branches in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, the United Arab Emirates, Tanzania, Zambia and other countries with large Muslim communities. England alone has nearly 60 halal branches.

Kosher Subways are more difficult to keep open, Winograd says. Some open and shut, like one that lasted for about a year in Livingston, N.J., and a Wall Street branch that closed last winter when the economy collapsed.

While Winograd receives lots of inquiries from potential franchise owners in other countries who are interested in the kosher option, none have panned out.

“The population has not always been there to support the business,” he says.

Subway serves meat, so a kosher store requires full-time kosher supervision—an extra expense added to ingredients that already cost more than their non-kosher equivalents.

Maurice Lichy, owner of the new Miami JCC Subway, says he’s trying to keep his prices “competitive” and hopes to charge no more than $1.50 extra per sandwich.

Will he offer a kosher $5 Footlong?

Lichy hesitates.

“No,” he says, “but I’ll try to manage a $6 Footlong. Probably tuna or turkey; not the corned beef.”

 

Is Kosher Kosher? [VIDEO] Read More »

‘Sex and the City’s’ Kristin Davis entangled in controversy over Israeli cosmetics endorsement

They say no good deed goes unpunished as in the case of “Sex and the City” star Kristin Davis, who was dropped from her role with a human rights group because of her endorsement deal with the Israeli cosmetics company, Ahava. Oxfam International, an organization that fights global poverty and injustice claims that they cannot support Davis’s involvement with Ahava because it operates out of an Israeli settlement.

According to the original New York Post report, Oxfam says Davis’ arrangement with Ahava is problematic due to the fact that Mitzpe Shalem is “disputed” territory. “This has been a huge thing,” a source told the Post. “Ahava has factories on disputed land. From Ahava’s perspective, they are not doing anything wrong. From an Oxfam perspective, Ahava is a polarizing company and Kristin shouldn’t be involved with it.”

Davis became Ahava’s first-ever celebrity spokesperson in September 2007. “I was attracted to Ahava because of their use of the minerals found in the Dead Sea and their commitment to using only high-quality ingredients in their products,” Davis told Women’s Wear Daily at the time. “I noticed a difference in my skin the first time I had an experience with them at a spa.”

In the video below of the official Ahava/Davis launch party, an interviewer tells Davis that her ‘Sex’ co-star, Chris Noth, endorsed an Israeli deodorant and asks if they plan to take over the Israeli cosmetics industry. Davis replies, “I can only be for Ahava because Ahava is special to me and therefore I can only be for Ahava.” You can watch Davis get grilled by the Israeli press during her first visit to the country below.

What Oxfam is referring to as “disputed” territory is Kibbutz Mitzpe Shalem, founded in 1970 by a group of Israeli soldiers and located on the Western shore of the Dead Sea in the West Bank. The economy of the Kibbutz depends on the tourism and agriculture tied to its location and many of Ahava’s products use ingredients found in the Dead Sea.

Davis has said she is “saddened” by the situation and intends to continue her work with Oxfam. Maybe when her Ahava contract is up?

Kristin Davis in Israel:

An earlier video of the Ahava launch party in New York (in Hebrew, but Davis’s interview is in English):

More on the controversy from Haaretz:

“[Davis] has been very active with both Oxfam and Ahava, and is very passionate about the causes of Oxfam,” the source told the Post. “She was completely unaware of this conflict of interest and is saddened to be on public pause from a group she has devoted so much time, money, and support to.”

In response, Oxfam told the Post: “Kristin Davis has done great work for Oxfam and we highly value her commitment as a supporter . . . Oxfam remains opposed to settlement trade, in which Ahava is engaged. Both Kristin and Oxfam do not want this issue to detract from the great work we have done in the past and plan to do in the future.”

A spokeswoman for Davis told the Post that the actress still intends to continue her work with Oxfam “for years to come.”

 

‘Sex and the City’s’ Kristin Davis entangled in controversy over Israeli cosmetics endorsement Read More »

‘Sex and the City’ star embroiled in West Bank controversy [VIDEO]

[Click here for complete blog coverage by Danielle Berrin]

Kristin Davis, who starred in the long-running HBO hit drama Sex and the City, is reportedly the subject of a controversy involving her association with an Israeli cosmetics company whose headquarters are situated in the West Bank.

According to a report in Thursday’s New York Post, Davis – who portrayed the character Charlotte on the successful cable comedy – will no longer serve as a spokeswoman for Oxfam International because the human rights group objects to her endorsement deal with Ahava, a popular cosmetics firm that operates out of the Israeli settlement of Mitzpe Shalem.

Oxfam says Davis’ arrangement with Ahava is problematic due to the fact that Mitzpe Shalem is “disputed” territory, according to the New York Post report.  Read the full story at HAARETZ.com.

Video of Kristin Davis at Israeli Press Conference

‘Sex and the City’ star embroiled in West Bank controversy [VIDEO] Read More »

Gearing up for ‘Inglourious Basterds’

The reviews are improving for “Inglourious Basters,” I movie I’ve been looking forward to since it was described last summer as an “Epic bugged-out Jewsploitation film.”

I hear the violence is off the charts—and not in the Tarantino way of “Kill Bill.” But the story hook is one that appeals to me, and you can’t go wrong with turning Brad Pitt into a Jewish assassin. “Basterds” is, after all, bound to have plenty of the Tarantino indulgences that make (most of) his films so good.

Over at Hollywood Jew, Naomi highlights the five most outrageous moments of the film. Here’s my favorite:

When an SS officer nicknamed The Jew Hunter (Christoph Waltz) cuts a deal with the Allies, the basterds can’t stand that he’ll be able to remove his Nazi uniform and live a respectable life in the United States.  So they tell him they’re going to give him something he can’t take off – and gleefully carve a swastika into his forehead.

Reminds me of this tattoo I came across once while writing about tattoo removal for the Daily News. On the forehead of some guy’s bald pate were a few tombstones and on his upper lip the words “sh—happens.”

Read the rest of Naomi’s list here.

Gearing up for ‘Inglourious Basterds’ Read More »

The Rabbinate 101

I recently got a taste of what it would be like to have my own pulpit, to be the rabbi of my own shul.  My esteemed colleagues Rabbis Avi Weiss and Steven Exler were on vacation, which left me in charge.  Alone.  In a 850-family shul. 

Of course, as soon as everyone left, there was suddenly a funeral to officiate, a shiva to run, a bris to lead, and Shabbat services to orchestrate.  I did it all, and the craziest thing is that no one batted an eyelid.  It just seemed natural. 

From this whirlwind experience I gained an even fuller appreciation of the deep and far-reaching modes of activity that constitute the rabbinate.  And if I could distill the one common ingredient in these tasks it would be presence.  Showing up.  Reaching out and making personal connections with individuals. 

This point was driven home to me in two distinct ways.  When an adult son of one of our members died, they called the shul asking to speak to one of the rabbis. So I dropped everything and went to sit with them, navigating the family through the complicated hospital bureaucracy and funeral arrangements. Towards the end of the day, as I broached the topic of who would be officiating at the funeral, explaining that I could find a male, more traditional looking rabbi, she looked at me as if I was crazy.  Of course you should do it, she said.  By the end of the week, she was telling anyone who would listen (between her moments of grief) that I was a rabbi.

And on the other end of the life cycle, I was asked to advise on and coordinate a bris. I showed up at the couples’ home, explained the bris ceremony, and envisioned with them how the service would be run. By the end of the conversation, it was hard to imagine the day without my participation.

You see, until recently, I assumed that lifecycle events were closed off to me as a woman in a rabbinic position.  People associate these events with male rabbis.  But as I officiate at more and more of these ceremonies—in sadness and gladness—I realize that gender is less important to members of my community than simply being present, engaged and building a relationship.

That is what being a rabbis is about.  That is the rabbinate 101.

(Since I wrote this post, two additional members of our community have passed on.  It’s been a busy couple of days).

The Rabbinate 101 Read More »

Free at Last?

I’m no different than most Jews — I enjoy a good Kiddush.

That’s the spread after the synagogue Shabbat service — the bagels and cream cheese, those pale yellow seashell-shaped cookies dipped in chocolate, the ones with sprinkles (memories of childhood), and, of course, the elderly men around the schnapps bottle.

I’ve been to dozens of synagogues, just in Los Angeles alone, and two things about the Kiddush always strike me: the food is generous and free to all who come, and yet someone, somehow, always finds something to complain about.

Last month’s hummus was creamier. The strawberries ran out too soon. The bagels are cold. What, only decaf?

A few weeks ago I was at a shul on the Westside when, to make conversation, I asked a woman near the buffet what’s good. She held up a tortilla chip and made a face like someone had just hit her car.

“Not these tortilla chips,” she hissed. “They’re … below par.”

I know: The people who are appreciative and helpful in any congregation by far outnumber the whiners. But I’m trying to make a point here. And the point is this: free, isn’t.

I thought of all this when Mark Pearlman, a founder of FOX News and the creator of JInsider.com, sent me his take on Chris Anderson’s best-selling new book, “Free: The Future of a Radical Price” (Hyperion). Anderson, the editor of Wired and the author of the 2006 best-seller “The Long Tail,” argues that the digital age pushes the price of all things “made of ideas” inexorably down, toward free. Music, video entertainment and, of course, newspapers have started to learn, painfully, that people are getting more and more used to getting stuff for nothing, and that, as a result, all who deliver information must rethink their way of doing business. 

Pearlman wondered how this applied to the way the Jewish community does business, because like the larger culture around it, Jewish culture has been flirting with free.

Thousands of Jewish youth have gone to Israel for free on Birthright trips. Thousands of college students worship and participate at Hillels for free. Aish HaTorah has free classes; many congregations offer free services; and most people get the paper you’re reading, The Jewish Journal, for free. 

“As ‘free’ becomes the standard price of goods and services in the Digital Age, it’s unclear how companies and nonprofit organizations will be able to give something and get nothing as a long-term business model,” Pearlman wrote. How, he asked, will free pricing affect the Jewish community’s sustainability?

That brings me back to those below-par tortilla chips. They cost $4.89 per bag.

In other words, there is no such thing as free. Free just means someone else is paying for it. Charles Bronfman can tell you exactly how much those free Birthright trips cost. Any shul that offers free services can tell you how much the clergy health care package comes to. Someone has to pay; the question is who, and how.

Pearlman wrote that Jewish groups use four basic strategies to pay for free. They rely on donors and give stuff away to improve their reputation or some other intangible asset, like Birthright does for Israel. Or, like The Jewish Journal, they support free with advertisements. Or like Aish, they offer free classes as a way to boost participation in pricier classes, or, like the Kabbalah Centre, as a way to promote more classes and sell very pricey red string.

Pearlman neglects another option, which is actually older: the Chabad model. For the Lubavitch movement, free is a mitzvah that wealthier donors happily pay for.

Chabad is sustainable, but is an outlier. It draws on a network of devoted volunteers or low-paid employees motivated by loyalty to the Rebbe and to God.

Other Jewish groups and programs trying to emulate the free model need to come up with a lot more cash to make it work.

But beyond the small matter of who pays, does free work?

Yes and no. On the one hand, free Jewish options like Birthright, Chabad, free High Holy Day services — and, yes, The Jewish Journal — have drawn thousands of people to Jewish life who might not otherwise have been interested or financially able to participate. On the other hand, free has created a generation of Jews that doesn’t expect to pay for anything Jewish. Maybe that means that once they’re turned on, they’ll find low-cost or free ways to express their Jewishness, or maybe it means they just won’t bother at all, since no one else will pick up the tab.

What I hope is that the generation that has most benefited from free programs and services will take up the mantle of leadership and figure out creative ways to help pay for everything from the rabbis to the Kiddush. If they do so, then they have learned one of the most important lessons passed down by generations of Jews: There is no such thing as a free lunch.

Or at least no free chips.

Free at Last? Read More »

Give Wagner a Chance, Judaism and the Racial Divide

Give Wagner a Chance
Manny Steinberg’s letter (Letters, July 24) supporting L.A. County Supervisor Michael Antonovich’s specious and transparently political demand that Los Angeles Opera cancel its performances of Wagner’s “Ring” cycle was quite enlightening: Not only was Wagner “very anti-Semitic,” which is well known, but we also learn that “he loved Hitler” — a remarkable feat of clairvoyance, considering that Wagner died in 1883. There were other German composers whose lives did overlap the Nazi period and who were publicly courted by Hitler, most prominently Richard Strauss. Yet we’ve heard no cries that “Der Rosenkavalier” and “Salome” should likewise be banned from the LA Opera stage. The Nazis also adored Beethoven and Mozart — should their music be silenced as well?

A salient feature of Nazi policy was the burning of books and the banning of “degenerate” music and paintings by Jewish authors, composers and artists. Is the establishment of artistic censorship in Los Angeles really the appropriate way to honor these victims of the Holocaust?

Wayne W. Grody, Pacific Palisades


Judaism and the Racial Divide
I just read Aliza Hausman’s article (“A Lesson for Jews in Gates’ Arrest?” July 31). To say I was moved is an understatement. I share in her pain and frustration. And I am outraged.

With our history of persecution, we must each grasp what it is to be the “other.” We, of all people, should know better than to tolerate, let alone display, the bigotry that has haunted our families over the millennium.

Besides, bigotry for us is stupid. We Jews have lived in virtually every nook and cranny of this earth. Do you have any idea what runs through your DNA?

Ignorance and disrespect in our midst disgraces each of us. Jewish values do not include bigotry. Our tradition teaches us to reach for a higher standard. We should remember that.

Roberta (“Rickie”) Avrutin, Los Angeles


This letter is to the author, Aliza Hausman.
I read your article and sympathize with the bigotry that you have experienced. It is unacceptable for Jews to be racists, and God warns us against it in the Torah when He says, many times, not to ill-treat the ger (convert), because we were slaves in Egypt.

I am married to an Orthodox Filipina convert, who is also part African American, but unlike your saga we have experienced outright racism only once. However, we live in Los Angeles, and you live in New York. I grew up in New York and I can say from experience, New York Jews are far more racist than Los Angeles Jews. In fact, the only difficulty my wife and I had in planning our wedding was from the New Yorkers. We would love to have you and your family to our house for Shabbat: it could be the first “inter-racial Shabbaton.” We could start a trend.

Finally, I have one substantive comment about your article. Everyone concedes that there was no racism involved in the Gates matter. Yet your article conveys a racial implication. I thought that was unfair to the police.

Alan M. Goldberg, Tarzana


Bridging Divides in Bethlehem
Kudos for Danielle Berrin’s article “2 Days in Bethlehem” in the July 31 Jewish Journal. It is refreshing to get on-the-ground reporting on conditions in the West Bank and the effect of Israeli policy, particularly regarding settlements. As a Diaspora Jew who cares deeply about Israel, I am grateful to see actual reported facts, rather than the filtered opinion pieces found in so many publications. Yasher Koach!

Paul Verger, Los Angeles


Not So Funny People
I read your article, so I went to see the movie “Funny People” (“What Makes ‘Funny People’ Tick,” July 24). “Funny People” isn’t funny. And if this is what feeling Jewish and proud is about, I want none of it!

Why would a bright writer/director put his young daughters and wife in a sophomoric movie that is misogynistic, objectifies women only for sexual purposes, is vulgar and crude … not funny. This is what one teaches one’s young daughters? This is what being Jewish is about?

This isn’t Jewish pride, it is just vulgarity. What has happened to the likes of the Marx Brothers, Jack Benny, Phil Silvers, Shelly Berman, Sid Caesar and George Burns? Those were people to be proud of, and they were funny!

Betzalel “Bitzy” N. Eichenbaum, Encino

Give Wagner a Chance, Judaism and the Racial Divide Read More »

The Shots That Shattered Our Calm

The day began like any other summer day at the North Valley Jewish Community Center — hot and heady with promise. Children lined up at the back of the site for field trips, or unpacked their gear to go swimming. Office workers answered phones and filed papers. Counselors accompanied kids to the arts and crafts room. Nothing indicated this would be anything other than a normal camp day — until a white supremacist walked into the lobby, spraying bullets and shattering the Los Angeles Jewish community’s calm.

Ten years ago, on Aug. 10, 1999, avowed white supremacist Buford Furrow Jr. drove to Los Angeles from Washington state and took aim at random victims, injuring three children, a teenage camp counselor and the Granada Hills JCC’s receptionist. Then he fled and went on to murder a local postal worker. For those involved, the memories remain as fresh as the day it all happened.

The Attack
Furrow, a parolee, came to Los Angeles with an agenda and an arsenal of weapons. As he later told police, he wanted to issue “a wake-up call to America to kill Jews.” He exited the 118 freeway looking for a vulnerable target. He walked into the JCC on Rinaldi Avenue carrying a Glock semi-automatic pistol and a rifle, and, without warning, he began shooting.

According to various reports, police identified receptionist Isabelle Shalometh, then 68, as the first person wounded in the attack. Shalometh, who recovered and is now retired, was the most vulnerable, the person who greeted all visitors. 

Nearby, Mindy Finkelstein, 16, a counselor, was walking camper James Sidell, 6, to the arts and crafts area. As Furrow continued to spray bullets, Mindy was hit twice; one of the bullets that went through her leg was later found to have grazed James’ foot and was still in his shoe.

Standing behind Mindy and James when the shooting started was another 6-year-old, Joshua Stepakoff, who sustained two shots to his leg. The final victim, Benjamin Kadish, 5, nearly bled to death from bullets that had perforated his colon and severed the main artery in his right leg. In the end, Furrow emptied 70 rounds as he made his way around the community center before fleeing to nearby Chatsworth.

Furrow then car-jacked a woman’s Toyota, came upon postal worker Joseph Ileto, 39, making his rounds and shot and killed the Philippines-born man. Furrow later told investigators that he considered Ileto a “good target of opportunity” because he was not “white” and worked for the federal government. 

Breaking News
Donna Finkelstein was a counselor at Monroe High School at the time. She remembers walking across campus and being stopped by someone saying she had an important phone call. Finkelstein felt no need to rush — it was probably just a parent calling to inquire about the school’s magnet program. But on the other end of the line was her next-door neighbor, a trauma nurse at Providence Holy Cross Medical Center in Mission Hills, calling to say that Finkelstein’s 16-year-old daughter, Mindy, had just been wheeled in on a gurney and recognized her. “Call my mom,” the girl said. “I’ve been shot.”

As soon as she heard the news, Finkelstein dropped to her knees, stunned.

“I knew immediately it was a hate crime,” she said. “I knew it couldn’t have been a robbery — what is there to rob? I knew it wasn’t gang activity. It had to be a hate crime.”

Mindy’s injuries, although serious, were not life threatening. But another child’s were, and police were having a difficult time identifying the camper who had been rushed over by ambulance as soon as the paramedics saw he would not survive a helicopter ride to Childrens Hospital. Mindy was the one to finally identify Benjamin Kadish.

Meanwhile, Loren Lieb, a Los Angeles County Department of Health worker, was being driven by a co-worker back to the Valley, all the time grappling with the twin torments of knowing something had happened at the center, and of not knowing which, if either, of her two sons — Joshua and Seth Stepakoff — had managed to escape. The only solid information she had was what her mother had told her: that a man with a gun had come to the JCC.

“My mom was at her book club meeting, which happened to meet at the church next door to the Jewish Community Center,” Lieb explained. “All of a sudden, the SWAT team is surrounding the building and my mom is told they have to evacuate. So my mom starts to go out, knowing her only two grandsons are next door and she can’t even get to them.”

Lieb’s feelings of guilt were tremendous. She was working earlier hours that summer to accommodate the boys’ camp schedule, and that morning she had left home before the rest of the house was awake. She recalls the long ride to the center, listening to the radio and hearing that 6- and 8-year-old boys had been shot.

“I was trying to stay composed, but I kept thinking my boys were gone,” her voice breaks, even now. “And I hadn’t even said goodbye.”

Lieb got to the JCC and was taken by ambulance to Childrens Hospital Los Angeles. Along the way, police assured her Joshua was going to pull through.  (Her other son, Seth, was being held with the other campers off-site until police were sure the area was secure.) Her husband, Alan Stepakoff, met her at Childrens. Joshua had had the presence of mind to tell paramedics that his father worked at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena.

Lieb saw the hole that went through Joshua’s leg from one bullet, straight through the bone; another bullet entered his hip, traveled under his skin and stopped just short of the spine. The boy underwent surgery to repair the leg and to remove the second bullet, with doctors commenting that it was a miracle he had not suffered more damage.

The Aftermath
With the exception of Benjamin Kadish, each of the children was released within a week. Ironically for several of the injured children, this had been their first experience of a Jewish summer camp. Perhaps that is why Loren Lieb and Alan Stepakoff sent Joshua and Seth back to camp the Monday after the shooting.

“The kids just had to get back to some normal routine and be with their friends, doing what they would usually do,” Lieb said.

Joshua seemed to be OK with camp. He had a harder time dealing with his instant celebrity — he enjoyed the toys and cards sent to him from all around the world, but Lieb said it was difficult dealing with the strangers who would come up to him.

“We’d go out somewhere, and here’s this cute kid on crutches, and everybody would ask, ‘How did you break your leg?’ and he would say, ‘I got shot.’ And then they would realize who he was. So we stopped going out, because he hated the attention.”

Fear took hold of Joshua — of loud noises, sirens, the sound of helicopters. He refused to sit in a certain area of the living room; it took him two years to finally tell his parents “I don’t want to sit there because if someone comes in the door, I’d be the first one shot.” Only with counseling, and time, could he finally reach a place where fear did not dominate his life.

As the oldest of the child victims, Mindy Finkelstein had the greatest awareness of her situation. Unlike Joshua, she reveled in her celebrity and made it through her next year of school as a senior at Chatsworth High School with her bubbly personality intact.

Then came the move to Santa Barbara to attend the University of California. Suddenly, all the trauma that she had pushed away swept over her like a wave.  She stopped eating and became increasingly depressed. Finally, her parents came to take her home.

“She was like a zombie,” Finkelstein recalls. “It was very unnerving. Our entire focus as a family was just getting her well.”

Mindy took a year off, then returned to Santa Barbara where she completed her degree in film studies. She worked for several years in television production and is now looking to pursue a career in event planning for nonprofits (see accompanying story). 

Following the shooting, both Donna and David Finkelstein, along with Loren Lieb and Alan Stepakoff, became outspoken advocates for gun control. Loren and Donna helped found the San Fernando Valley chapter of the Million Mom March, a national organization founded by Donna Dees-Thomases, a New Jersey mother, in the wake of the NVJCC shooting. That organization later joined forces with the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence. Loren Lieb is currently an officer in the local chapter of the Brady Campaign, as well as a vice president of the California Executive Council.

The Kadish family took a different tack. Benjamin’s injuries were critical, and he required months of physical therapy and additional surgery. Like the other children, he became a symbol to many of the terrible effects of hate crimes, and newspapers followed his story for months. As the intense spotlight of media attention began to fade, Eleanor and Charles Kadish sought to bring some sort of normalcy back to their lives. 

There were also legal matters to sort out. The Kadishes joined a lawsuit against the gun manufacturers, along with Joseph Ileto’s mother, Lillian, and several other victims. That case is currently pending further action, after portions of the suit were rejected by the U.S. 9th Circuit Court of Appeals. The same group also filed suit against the Washington State Department of Corrections for failing to adequately monitor Furrow, for which the plaintiffs were awarded $2.25 million in 2008. Eleanor and Charles Kadish independently filed suit against the North Valley Jewish Community Center, Inc. in 2001, but the case was dismissed later that year.

A Jewish Identity Altered
Furrow did not get away with his crimes. He turned himself in to FBI authorities in Las Vegas the day after the shooting and later accepted a plea agreement that spared him the death penalty. He is currently serving two consecutive life terms plus 110 years, without possibility of parole or early release.

Furrow said his goal was to frighten the Jewish community and to inspire other white supremacists to take up arms. If the Jewish community became more wary as a result, it also became more interconnected with other groups.

On Monday, Aug. 10, the Asian Pacific American Legal Center of Southern California, with the participation of the Anti-Defamation League’s Pacific Southwest office, will host a memorial at APALC’s offices on Wilshire Boulevard.  Mindy Finkelstein, Joshua Stepakoff, Ben Kadish and their families all plan to attend. A few days earlier, on Aug. 7, Mindy and Joshua will speak at a memorial service held at Temple Ahavat Shalom in Northridge. The pair is also working on a 5K/10K Walk/Run against gun violence to be held in October (see box on Page 12).

Mindy said her pride in being Jewish helps fuel her activism.

“I don’t practice Judaism in a traditional sense, just holidays and camps, but I’m very proud of it, even my name,” she said. “It’s not something I want to refute; it’s something I want to take charge of.”

Eleanor Kadish said she has heard the same from Ben. Although he did not return to the JCC camp, he continued his Jewish education at the family’s synagogue, Temple Judea West, where he had his bar mitzvah. Now 16, he tells his mom about the times when he’s spoken out at his high school in defense of his faith.

“He hears kids making comments about ‘those Jews,’ and he always stands up and asks, ‘Why do you say that?’ If anything, this experience has made him more outspoken and assertive. We’re proud of him.”

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Survivors — Not Victims

To see Mindy Finkelstein and Joshua Stepakoff today, one might easily take them for siblings, or at least cousins. They are relaxed in each other’s presence, as only two people can be who share a common bond — even if, as in this case, that bond involves a successful escape from a gunman.

Finkelstein, an attractive young woman with curly, blonde-streaked hair, is now 26. She graduated the University of California Santa Barbara in 2005, and has spent the past several years working as a production assistant and assistant line producer on television shows, including “The New Adventures of Old Christine.” In April she left a position at Universal Media Studios to pursue a new and old interest: planning events for nonprofit organizations.

Stepakoff is now 16, the age his companion was when the shooting occurred. His demeanor reflects his personality — serious, quiet, reserved. He relaxes when talking about his passion for music — he plays guitar and recently completed an internship with a music producer — and the difficulties for teenagers of finding a job in the current recession.

Despite the passage of time, both have vivid memories of the JCC shooting.

Joshua Stepakoff: I was walking into the center after a game of capture the flag and saw a man coming in the door with what looked like a drill in his hand. I thought he was a construction worker. The next thing I remember is getting up from the ground and running as fast as I could the other way. I had a broken leg and a bullet in my hip and somehow managed to run.

Mindy Finkelstein: I was with a camper, James Sidell, and Joshua was behind us. James asked, ‘Which way do you want to go, to the [arts and crafts room] or to the pool?’ So I said ‘arts and crafts,’ and went through the front room. That’s when Furrow walked in and shot me.

JS: I made it outside. My counselor told me to lie down on the ground, and then our custodian picked me up and took me to the little red schoolhouse [on the property]. Then the paramedics took me out on a gurney and the helicopter took me to the hospital. For some reason, my brother thought that was really cool. 

MF: I grabbed James and ran into the arts and crafts room. There were about 35 kids there. The kids all thought they heard hammering. One of the kids saw [the blood on] my leg and asked ‘What’s that?’ and the counselors said ‘It’s paint.’

There was an emergency exit in that room; the counselors took all the kids out and I was one of the last ones out. I remember Furrow shot at us through the glass door as we were leaving. The other counselors took the kids to the convalescent hospital, but one of them, Lizette, stayed behind with me. She said to lie down and play dead, and the worst things were running through my head. To this day, I’m just in awe of her and of all the other counselors. They’re remarkable people.

Jewish Journal: What was it like for you in the aftermath of the shooting?

JS: There was always the feeling of not being safe. That’s how I felt for many years. If anything, it made me believe more in Judaism and how it gives you, in a time of need, something to turn to.

MF: The immediate aftermath was a whirlwind. At 16, you’re dying for that much attention. We had a month of being at home, and it was a party every day, which was great until it ended. Then you’re busy dealing with what happened to you and how you return to normalcy. 

Graduating from high school meant leaving my safety zone. Everything about me just crumbled. I went up to [the University of California in] Santa Barbara, and within three days, a guy walked into my room with a fake Nerf gun, and that did it for me. My parents came, and I went back home for a year.

JJ: Mindy, you testified at Furrow’s sentencing hearing. Were you satisfied with the outcome?

MF: I was old enough by then to make the decision to speak for myself. I thought it was really important, in order to get closure. The last image I had of him was his being handcuffed and taken out of the room. He’s in for life; he can’t hurt me.

JJ: Tell me about the 5k/10k event you’re planning for October.

MF: Josh came to me and said, it’s the 10-year anniversary, and I want to do something to honor the day. I had never heard anything like that from him before; if he’s ready, there’s nothing that could stop me. So it’s in the planning stages now, and we’re looking for sponsors.

JS: I want to draw attention to the issue of gun violence, especially for teenagers. I want to try to prevent what happened to us from happening to them. Something kids need to know from day one is that you don’t go around pointing a gun at anybody. We also need to educate the public and the community about hate crimes, not just educate kids. People think ‘It’s not going to happen to me,’ but most likely people find it will hit you, whether indirectly, through a family member, a best friend or yourself. That mentality, that it’s never going to happen to me, is a horrible way to think.

JJ: What would you like to say to other young people who have been victims of hate crimes?

JS: It took me eight or nine years to realize that I let this event control how I lived my life on a day-to-day basis, and that it didn’t have to be that way. I have switched to thinking of it as I’m in control. He [Furrow] wanted me to see what he did as an act of hate, but I see it as a wonderful opportunity to do great things.

MF: There are people out there, anti-Semites and racists, who feel you don’t deserve to be here. No one has the right to tell you that, or to make you believe that. If Josh and I are an example of anything, it’s that you can go on to make something of your life. We’re not victims — we’re survivors.

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