Wednesday, August 28, 2024

A quick summary of California

We made our annual visit to Ted in California last week. Let me start with a story about not judging people. On the flight home I developed one of my instant dislikes (some might say this is my default reaction to people - but I'm not quite that bad) for the guy in the seat in front of me. This guy was probably about 6' 3", and was carrying a gut large enough that it should have had its own seat. He was wearing an Arlington County Fire Department t-shirt, though honestly, I think the only way this guy could have contributed to putting out a fire was by smothering it with his belly. 

Why did I take a disliking to him? First, every time he sat down in his seat he caused the seat, and with it my tray table, to rock at the level of severe turbulence. Second, when it was time to "de-plane", apparently he had a bag in the overhead bin two rows back and he just shoved his way through everyone to get back to his bag - including nearly tackling me - without so much as an "excuse me". 

Anyway, after the flight we're all at the baggage claim. I was standing right where the conveyor belt burps up bags onto the baggage carousel. My bag came out right after another, and so was stacked above the preceding bag, which made it impossible for me to grab, particularly from my position at the end of the carousel. Fortunately, another passenger who saw me struggling reached out and helped me wrestle my bag free. What a good Samaritan. And yup, it was gut man from the seat in front of me. I am so ashamed of my misanthropic tendencies.

Anyway, California was, as always, warm, sunny, expensive, and required a lot of driving.

Another anecdote: I drink only decaf coffee, and the only decaf my son had in the house was the remnants of the bag I had bought when we visited a year ago. So, when upon arrival we went to the supermarket to buy a few things I started to pick up a bag of coffee but he assured me that we could get much, much better coffee at this cool coffee place in Palo Alto. Sure enough, the Blue Bottle Coffee in Palo Alto is very cool - co-located with a co-working space in a converted old movie theater with Moorish architecture. But my bag of coffee rang up for $23. I noted today that the very same Blue Bottle coffee was on sale at Target for $13 per bag, which is still more than I usually pay for coffee, but within the bounds of reason. It just goes to show you, Silicon Valley people have too much money and not enough sense - no matter what the price, if it's cool (or whatever word the kids use today to mean "cool"), there's no limit to what they'll pay for it.

Moorish courtyard at the Blue Bottle in Palo Alto

Anyway, we did a lot of fun activities while we were there:

- On Tuesday we arrived, got ramen at the fabulous Ramen Nagi, got ice cream at Salt and Straw, which has "I'll pay through the nose because it's cool" Silicon-Valley-cool flavors like Smoked Mac and Cheese, and Pear and Blue Cheese (I've got to admit, their ice cream is really good). We also took Ted's lizard Sierra for a walk in her special bubble backpack.

Walking Sierra the lizard

- On Wednesday Valerie and I tried pickleball. I will mention that in Arlington, pickleball courts are a rare and highly utilized commodity; they do not go empty, even for a minute. At Stanford, however, Ted was easily able to book us court time. Valerie actually took a fall running for a ball and wound up sitting a bunch of the session out. I showed myself to be not too embarrassing for a total novice. After recovering from the exertion, in the evening we sat on the sidelines and watched Ted play ultimate Frisbee.

Pickleball with Ted

- Thursday I started my day with a run (cool mornings! no humidity!), then we went out to Pleasanton California, a not-surprisingly pleasant little town with cute shops. Ted got us to eat at Zachary's, a Chicago-style pizza place. Let me just say, Chicago-style goopy cheesy casserole is not pizza (Jon Stewart agrees with me on this one), but it was still good. Ted and I also took time to find an underground geocache while Valerie (the most sane of us, at least when it comes to crawling through tunnels for fun) waited nearby. And, we got soft-serve at some famous place where again, people line up to get ice cream. Fortunately, mid-day on a weekday there was no line, which was good, because the ice cream wasn't anything special. This was the second of a total of three ice cream desserts I got during the week - which is insane compared with my normal eating habits, but oh, well.

As if pickleball and Pleasanton weren't enough (and sufficiently alliterative), that evening Ted and his housemates hosted a paint night. An art teacher Frisbee friend of Ted's led us all through painting a night-time scene. To feed and lubricate the attendees we supplied a weird selection of stuff from Total Wine (Sunny-D coolers, Manischevitz) and got Indian pizza, a weird cross-breed consisting of pizza with Indian toppings.

My run took me past Levi's Stadium, site of next year's Superbowl

Awaiting our cheesy, gooey casserole

Geocaching

Paint Night results

- Friday Ted and I started the day with an eBike ride on local trails, then the three of us went out for coffee and pastries and yet another impossibly hip Silicon Valley place (The Midwife and the Baker). We played another round of pickleball on again shockingly uncrowded public courts in Mountain View, and in the evening Ted treated us to homemade hot pot. I liked it; Valerie was lukewarm on the hot pot.

Bike trail

Cyclist selfie

Cool pastries

Hot pot

There's a lot of property crime in the area - note two signs warning you about car break-ins.

- Saturday and Sunday we made a little overnight trip up north. Saturday, after stopping in Berkeley to have coffee at the very first Peet's Coffee (and eating lunch at an outdoor table while a mentally ill man screamed at us through the whole meal - typical Berkeley, apparently), we headed north for the Cotati Accordion Festival, an event which has been on my bucket list since I discovered its existence. Multiple stages of accordion music! A dedicated polka tent! Accordion merch! It was almost too good to be true.

At the original Peet's Coffee

At the accordion festival
Zydeco dancing

Open air accordion market. Perhaps this is the kind of thing Donald Trump means
when he says San Francisco is "not livable"

After a Mexican dinner we retired to a hotel in Petaluma, an unusually cool Hampton Inn housed in a vintage silk mill building.

- Sunday we got up and made the twisty, winding drive (Valerie wasn't happy) to Muir Woods, where we marveled at the giant redwoods. On the way back to Ted's place he insisted on taking us to eat at a burrito joint in the Mission District. He felt that the Mexican place where we had eaten in Cotati wasn't real Mexican and he wanted us to experience the genuine article (non-Latino Virginian transplant Ted feeling that he is an arbiter of true Mexican food reminded me of Street Eats). Getting to this place and then waiting in their foolishly long line took a bunch of time, and the burrito wasn't really anything special. I must admit that my opinion may be influenced by the fact that they had given me the wrong burrito, and I couldn't go back and fix the order since we had gotten the food to go. Where did we eat our burrites? Well, there was no nearby park or anything so we wound up getting sodas at a McDonald's - a branch of the chain which, like everything in the immediate area, was dominated by the mentally ill and unhoused! - and eating our burritos on the sly there.

At Muir Woods

Muir Woods

Muir Woods

Some big trees!

- Then, Monday morning we headed home on the flight with fireman big-gut, about whom I've already written.

A fun and action-packed visit. Always great to spend time with Ted!




Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Not quite according to plan

 I went to paddle at Mason Neck the other day not just because it's one of my favorite local places to paddle, but with several specific goals in mind:

1. Check on the geocache I had hidden on tiny Conrad Island, and do maintenance as necessary (e.g., replace the logbook).

2. Paddle at least 10 miles

3. Get some nice wildlife photos

Well, #1 had an unexpected outcome, I didn't achieve #2, and I kinda did OK with #3, but could have done better if things had gone according to plan.

While unloading my boat I chatted with a young guy in a Virginia State Parks polo shirt who was hanging around the launch. He told me that he was the kayak rental attendant, that the park had decided that it was too disruptive to haul someone over from the Visitor Center every time people wanted to rent kayaks and so had decided to hire someone to staff the kayak rental. My first thought was that the park must have better things it could spend its money on than this position - particularly staffing it on a weekday morning. It was Monday 9 AM and there wasn't exactly a big crowd of people waiting to check out kayaks. The second thing I thought was that weekday kayak attendant must be an intensely boring job, since there's essentially nothing to do.

After unloading my gear I moved my car to the parking lot, and by the time I got back to the launch area the attendant was gone. He also wasn't there when I paddled by later, nor was he there when I landed at the end of my outing. Maybe the park service hired him to work just Monday 9-10 AM. Or maybe I imagined him.

Anyway, my plan was to paddle across the bay to Conrad Island to check on the geocache, then head out around the bend into the river. Conrad Island is a wisp of an island situated on the opposite side of Belmont Bay, next to the boat channel which leads into the marinas along the Occoquan River. It's so small and low-lying that the boat wakes and waves have eroded it into multiple pieces, the biggest of which isn't more than a few hundred feet across. Back in 2008 I hid a geocache on the largest fragment of island, and people have generally like the adventure of boating across to the island to find the cache. However, as I approached this time I spotted something new: giant "No Trespassing" signs located all around the island. It's not clear to me who owns and manages the island, but clearly they don't want anyone to come there! Rather than update my geocache, when I got home I logged on and marked it as Archived (retired).

I think this means Keep Out

From there I headed southeast through Belmont Bay, heading for Occoquan Bay with the goal of heading out to the river. As I paddled it quickly became apparent that the wind was blowing much more strongly than had been forecast, maybe 15-20 MPH. The wind was whipping up the water too - nothing dangerous, but 1 to 1 1/2 foot waves, occasionally breaking, and sometimes rolling over the deck of my kayak. As I paddled I debated the wisdom of heading out into more open waters in these conditions, and when I got to the point where I could see out into Occoquan Bay, I decided that maybe going out there wasn't going to be a good idea. I mean, I could have handled the conditions but it wouldn't have been much fun, and you always have to think about what would happen if conditions deteriorated further. I turned around and decided to head up Kane's Creek instead. The creek is the most protected area around Mason Neck. It's popular with beginner paddlers (like folks who rent from the mystery kayak attendant) and is quite pretty. I had brought my nice camera with me, and was kind of disappointed that I wasn't going to get out to the river, which is where there's the greatest chance of seeing eagles, but I figured that even if I made it out there it was too rough for me to be able to pull out my camera and take photographs. Safety first.

A pretty spot on the water

As I headed towards the creek I took a quick break for water and a snack, and noticed that I was slowly drifting towards a blue heron. Herons are really skittish and it's hard to get close to them, but I figured that my drift rate might be slow enough that it wouldn't alarm the bird as I approached - and sure enough, I got close enough for some nice photos. Also, as I paddled eagles started swooping around like crazy - there were four or five hanging around together. Unfortunately, there was no way I was going to be able to grab my camera and catch them in flight. I had to "make do" with the joy of just seeing them.

Pretty good heron photo

I entered Kane's Creek and paddled a little ways up but quickly ran into hydrilla. Hydrilla is an invasive plant which chokes waterways, creating a dense mat of plant life under the surface so thick that you can't even get a paddle through it. Some years it doesn't seem to bloom at all, while other times it can make the areas where it grows impassible. I've never seen it so thick so early in the season before - but once I got to where I couldn't go on without crunching through the vegetation I turned around.

Showing the little birds some photo love too

While I was paddling back towards Mason Neck I saw some eagles again and detoured towards them to see if I could catch photos of any of them when they landed in the trees (eagles typically fly for a bit then hang out at the tops of the trees). I had a little bit of success in that I did get some pictures of two eagles in the trees, but nothing spectacular. I need a longer lens.

Eagle photo

Another eagle

When I got back to Mason Neck I discovered that I had only paddled 6.35 miles - well short of my ten mile goal. However, I had a varied, interesting experience and got the unexpected bonus of getting a little rough water practice in. The weather had been beautiful; it was a lovely morning out on the water.

Butterfly on the beach

Water scene from onshore

-----
Addendum: another reason I'm sad to see my geocache go is that I loved the name I had given it. The cache was on Conrad Island, which is home to lots of birds. It's a great place for birding, so I named the geocache "Bye Bye Birding", which is a play on "Bye Bye Birdie", a 1960 musical the main character of which is named Conrad Birdie. Get it? Conrad Birdie, Conrad Island full of birds? "Bye Bye", because the island is disappearing? Birdie vs. birding? Dear reader, if you are not currently overwhelmed with laughter from the cleverness of my geocache name you should see a doctor about your atrophied sense of humor. 

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

The Mississippi Delta Trip - Part III

Return to Part II

Day 6 (Wednesday - Greenwood and Oxford, MS):

I really haven't said much so far about the group I was traveling with. There were fifteen of us overall: the young assistant rabbi from our synagogue, Rabbi Stein, plus a woman from the temple staff who was the organizer of the trip, two couples, and nine individual travelers. All told, four men and eleven women. As I mentioned in Part I, I was the youngster of the congregants. There was one woman about my age, Professor Goldstein is I would guess in his 50's, and Rabbi Stein is in her thirties, but all the rest went up and up in age. However, just about everyone was game - not a lot of curmudgeonly old people behavior. And tech savvy, too - when it was suggested that we set up a WhatsApp group to communicate, only one person had trouble joining. I had taken a chance in rooming with Alex, who I had never met before the trip info session, but he turned out to be a lovely guy - a recent transplant from Massachusetts who moved to DC to be near his children/grandchild. He was a New England sports fan - every night he had the TV on so he could watch the Celtics, or the Bruins, or whatever. 

The generally grey-haired group 

Our first stop of the day was Congregation Ahavath Rayim in the small city Greenwood, MS. We had by this point seen thriving congregations, struggling congregations, and defunct congregations, but Ahavath Rayim was something else - a congregation which in practical terms no longer existed but which was being kept alive through the efforts of one of the few remaining Jewish families in town, the Goldbergs, who own a local string of shoe stores. Jewish Greenwood's story was one we had by then heard multiple times:  a once-thriving town shriveled over time due to the Great Migration of African Americans out of the Jim Crow south, automation of the cotton industry, the Great Depression, and more, and as the overall town shrank, so did its Jewish population. At its peak, out of 8,000 residents there were 300 Jews; now the number of Jews is down to a handful - mostly the extended Goldberg clan. Interestingly, Ahavath Rayim is categorized as an Orthodox synagogue since they use an Orthodox prayer book and rituals; however, it doesn't appear that any of the congregants live an Orthodox (traditionally religiously observant) lifestyle. Not that there really are any congregants. While technically Ahavath Rayim still exists as an active lay-led congregation, services are not regularly held there, and are limited to major holidays like Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur. Given the scarcity of synagogues in the area (there are four rabbis in the whole state), the holiday services are apparently well-attended, with attendees coming from all over the region. Earlier this year the synagogue even hosted a bar mitzvah (not surprisingly, of a member of the Goldberg family).

We heard all this history from Gail Goldberg, the current matriarch of the Goldberg family. It was fun just to hear her say Jewish words in her deep Mississippi accent. The Hebrew term for a congregation, "shul", which I pronounce such that it rhymes with "cool", takes on extra syllables in Mississippi. More like "shoooo-uhl". Interestingly, Gail said she had never felt any sense of discrimination of of being the "other". Her kids participated in church basketball programs, and they participated in all the town social events - some of which were church sponsored - they just went elsewhere to pray.

One website summarizes the situation in Greenwood as follows: "As of 2022 only a handful of Jews live in Greenwood and nearby towns, and most of them belong to the Goldberg family. Still, there are no plans to dissolve Ahavath Rayim, which will mark a century in its current synagogue in 2023." As long as there are Goldbergs, there'll be a synagogue in Greenwood. If a day comes when they can no longer maintain it, who knows.


Temple Ahavath Rayim

While in town we stopped at the Jewish cemetery - small and not particularly noteworthy except that our professor/guide's great-great-uncle is buried there.

We had another lunch on the bus as we drove to Oxford, MS, home of Ole Miss (the University of Mississippi). There wasn't very much Jewish-related stuff to discuss there; even today, maybe 30 out of the school's16,000 identify as being Jewish. Instead, we were scheduled to hear about the "recontextualization" or Confederate artifacts (that means stuff like removing statues of Confederate heroes, and recognizing the contributions of enslaved people to the building of the school) at Ole Miss. We met with Andy Mullins, a former aide to the governor, co-founder of the Mississippi Teacher Corps (like Teach-for-America), and longtime university administrator. 

I wouldn't say he exactly delivered on the intended subject. He gave us a lot of history of the building we were meeting in, and laudatory statements about James Meredith, the first African-American student admitted to Ole Miss (he left out the part we learned later at a museum, that the university turned Meredith away four times - including having the governor himself show up to tell Meredith he wasn't welcome there - before letting him in). Mullins had that elliptical Southern way of story-telling, where every time you'd think he was about to get to the point he'd go off into some tangential folksy anecdote (Gail Goldberg had been like this too) and so he talked for a long time but never really quite got around to saying much about recontextualization, even when we went to see the spot where a big statue of Robert E. Lee had stood. He also noted that they hadn't removed everything related to the Confederacy; for example, the admin building is still graced by lovely stained glass windows honoring the "university greys" - Ole Miss students who fought for the Confederacy, and who he felt deserved to be honored for bravely fighting for a cause they believed in. 

Dr. Mullins tells us more than we needed to know about the history of the building


Andy Mullins with a statue of James Meredith

Honoring the "university greys"



Find the spelling mistake if you can!

We stayed overnight at a hotel right across from the campus, located on the historic square at Oxford - a cute college town. We browsed the historic Square Books bookstore and the other shops around the square. I had had an upset stomach for a couple of days, and so for dinner I went off on my own and found a place where I could get a plain grilled chicken sandwich. I had hoped to find some kind of crunchy granola vegetarian kind of restaurant where I could get something light to eat, but apparently things are different in Mississippi - while pretty much every college town I've ever visited has such a hippie tofu restaurant, such a thing doesn't exist at Ole Miss. The chicken sandwich was fine and I was recovered the next day.

Day 7 (Thursday - Memphis, TN):

On our last day we climbed on the bus for a drive to Memphis. Yes, I was spending my precious vacation time in Tennessee, of all places. Our first stop in Memphis was the National Civil Rights Museum, which is cleverly built to encompass the Lorraine Motel, where Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. Where the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum had been more of a history museum, the National Museum told the story of a movement, to "share the culture and lessons from the American Civil Rights Movement and explore how this significant era continues to shape equality and freedom globally" - from the awful backstory of slavery and post-Reconstruction Jim Crow, through Brown vs. The Board of Education, the Montgomery bus boycott, student sit-ins, Freedom Riders, the March on Washington, Selma, Emmett Till, etc., through to the current day. One comes away with an appreciation of the courage and commitment it took to challenge, and ultimately change, American laws and culture.  

As an aside, I'll note that even without the MLK connection, the Lorraine Motel would itself have been noteworthy. A "Green Book" hotel, it hosted scores of African-American performers who came to record in Memphis.

The Lorraine Motel - the wreath marks where Martin Luther King, Jr. was standing when he was shot



Read about the Lorraine Motel yourself

Our last stop was at Temple Israel. Now, we belong to the largest Jewish congregation in Virginia, located in one of the wealthiest counties in the U.S., and so we're used to large, affluent shoooo-uhls, but nothing prepared us for Temple Israel, practically a mega-church among synagogues. We entered an enormous building where our agenda started with lunch with the congregation's clergy, which consisted of tasty barbeque (chicken and beef - no pork) from a restaurant owned by a congregant, with plenty of fixin's - coleslaw, salad, and southern banana pudding (complete with vanilla wafers). By another coincidence, Temple Israel's senior rabbi had been a seminary classmate of our senior rabbi, and their junior rabbi was likewise a classmate of Rabbi Stein, so we had a connection from the get-go. Like Beth Israel in Jackson, Temple Israel has its own historic civil rights figure in the person of Rabbi James Wax. Wax's civil rights activism, as in Nussbaum's case, put him somewhat at odds with his congregation. When Martin Luther King was assassinated, Wax issued a rebuke of Memphis' mayor and, as the leader (and only Jewish clergy!) of the Memphis Ministers' Association, led the MMA's participation in the protest march that followed. Per Memphis magazine's web site, "The rabbi’s rebuke ... got national coverage. He got 81 letters of support, and 121 letters of condemnation. There were countless hostile phone calls and a loss of friends. Some members of the congregation talked of removing him from the pulpit, but the temple’s board of trustees refused to consider such an action — although other ministers who had participated in the march did lose their jobs."

Oh, and I mentioned how enormous this place was. The building contains a gigantic main sanctuary, a more "intimate" chapel which seats several hundred (and is amazingly 70's groovy in design), a museum, a sizable Judaica shop, and seemingly endless grand gathering spaces, classrooms, and more. Plus, in contrast to the age and decay which seeped in around the edges of even the thriving congregations we had visited, Temple Israel was totally up-to-date and spotless. Nonetheless, they talked about how they were about to embark on a big renovation  of some the building's spaces. Apparently they benefit from being the only congregation in the region: west to Little Rock, south to Jackson, east to Nashville or Huntsville, and north to I don't know where - maybe St. Louis. Many congregants belong even though they're too far away to attend services regularly in person. They stream weekly services and attend in person only on holidays. Plus the synagogue benefits from being in the thriving city Memphis, a major transportation and shipping hub (FedEx is headquartered there) - and I would guess from some well-heeled donors. Their congregation isn't growing, but membership is close enough to steady that they feel like they can sustain things for a long time to come. We were left pretty breathless by the vitality and scale of this place.  

The main sanctuary at Temple Israel

Groovy chapel


Antique Tiffany menorah

From the museum

We had hoped to have a little free time in Memphis - to see the Stax Record Museum, or maybe visit Graceland, but alas, by the time we left Temple Israel, we didn't have much free time. We met up again for a farewell dinner, then we were Walking in Memphis, strolling down Beale Street, and poking our heads into the Peabody Hotel.

Farewell dinner

Beale Street

Friday morning another traveler and I who had reservations on the same early morning flight, caught a 5:30 AM Uber to the airport. And so ended our visit to the deep south, with a return home to the ... um, shallow south?


 

Sunday, May 19, 2024

The Mississippi Delta Trip - Part II

Go back to Part I

Day 4 (Monday - New Orleans to Natchez):

Monday morning I wolfed down a quick breakfast so that I could be on the bus in time for our 8 AM departure for Whitney Plantation. In New Orleans we had been getting around by summoning fleets of Ubers; Monday marked the beginning of the chartered bus part of our tour.

Whitney is an old sugar plantation which, admirably, is dedicated to educating the public about the history and legacy of slavery in the south. As bad as it was working cotton, apparently sugar was worse; the life expectancy of slaves was only a few years. That's because while cotton is processed elsewhere once picked, sugar is processed on site, so in addition to field work hacking tough sugar cane, slaves manned a 24 hour processing plant in which the sugar was extracted from the cane and then concentrated down into molasses. That meant long hours stirring huge boiling cauldrons. Terrible, hot,  dangerous work on top of all the other horrors of slavery. Our guide, a very passionate woman who was happy to be leading a group "of her generation", did point out that Louisiana  was unique in that slaves were allowed to earn money in their (minimal) spare time, and if they saved up could buy their freedom. Even though she was eager to present an unvarnished version of plantation life, even she couldn't resist a little whitewashing, as we learned later that the ability of slaves to buy their freedom was pretty much stamped out in practical terms if not in statute.

Sugar kettles 

On the plantation tour

Children's Memorial at the Plantation

The plantation house. Interestingly, it was only one room deep - for ventilation in the sticky climate

Slave quarters

After the sobering plantation tour we got back on the bus, headed to Natchez. I wish I had kept my phone out to take pictures of some of the businesses we passed, like "Praise the Lard" pork shop. We ate lunch on the bus. The food, from Mulberry Market in Baton Rouge, was surprisingly good. Who would have expected decent bagels and lox in Baton Rouge, Louisiana?!

Yes, bagels and lox in the Mississippi Delta!

In Natchez we visited Temple B'nai Israel. There's no active congregation there anymore, but the building is preserved by the city and the Institute for Southern Jewish Life. Clearly it was built by a well-heeled congregation (cotton trading money), and apparently it was always oversized - sized aspirationally for a large Jewish community which never came to pass. Instead, after peaking in the 1950's, the Jewish community slowly dribbled away - the next generation moved away to larger cities, and the community and its historic businesses pretty much died out. As one of our guides said, "the Jewish history in the South is of fathers building businesses for sons who didn't want them." Hearing that as a son who didn't go into a family business which had been built over two generations, that quip smarted! Anyway, I imagine there are lots of buildings like this across the South and small-town America in general. This one is being preserved - but not all have such a lucky fate. 

B'nai Israel had a lovely pipe organ - not atypical in "classical" Reform Judaism, which modeled aspects of its religious practice after Christian church services (my childhood synagogue had an organ, as, at the time I joined, did the synagogue I belong to in Virginia). As I may have mentioned in Part I, the Jews of the South were largely German/Alsatian immigrants, less traditionally religiously observant than the Eastern European Jews who came later, and more likely to affiliate with the more assimilated Reform variant of Judaism, hence the organ and choir. Another quip: "there were Jews in the South, but not necessarily Judaism." Unfortunately, no one was around to power the organ up, so I just posed with it for pictures.

Wish I could have played this baby!

Temple B'nai Israel: Exterior
That organ again


B'nai Israel: Interior

We also visited the historic Jewish cemetery, which includes the grave of seven year old Rosalie Beekman, the only Natchez resident to die in the Union attack on the town in 1862.

We stayed overnight in downtown Natchez, which is a small city witht a lovely setting alongside the river. We went out for a walk to see what we could find in terms of food. A lot of the group chose a tamales restaurant, and others chose BBQ. That left just three of us who didn't want a meat-heavy dinner: Rabbi Stein (a vegetarian), a fellow congregant Rebecca, and I. The three of us ate at a surprisingly upscale Italian restaurant, where I had a very nice salad and flatbread pizza. Overnight was at the Hampton Inn - which was a step up from the Hampton Inn I stayed at in Vicksburg long ago in that there wasn't an armed guard in the lobby.

I will add that my fellow traveler Rebecca is originally from Texas and so Southern Jewry wasn't as much of a surprise to her as it was to some of the rest of us. Also, she was certain that her Galveston relatives must know my brother's wife's family, since there aren't many degrees of separation between most Galveston Islanders. We each texted our relatives. Indeed, they did know each other.

Day 5 (Tuesday - Natchez to Jackson, MS):

Another early morning departure. Our first stop was the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum, which is pretty up-front about the state's nasty history of racism, including violence directed against civil rights activists. The peak of the civil rights movement was during my toddlerhood, so I've just got a fuzzy, jumbled history in my head. There was a lot of focus at the museum on, for example, the Freedom Riders - integrated groups of activists who rode Greyhound and Trailways buses into the South to test the United States Supreme Court decision banning segregation in public interstate transportation. Needless to say, in Mississippi Freedom Riders were arrested, and in some cases jailed. Buses were bombed, people were beaten - it wasn't pretty. 

Mississippi racial history isn't pretty


Shame on you, Mr. Friedman, for contributing to this song

We also visited the home of civil right leader Medgar Evers, who was assassinated in his driveway by a member of the White Citizens' Council, a segregationist/racist group. Evers was enough of a target that he usually had police protection - strangely absent the day of his killing - some say the cops were Klan and were in on it. The house has been preserved; you can still see where a bullet from the high powered hunting rifle used by the assassin went through the front of the house, traveled through the living room and another wall into the kitchen, and dented the refrigerator. Evers was taken to a local hospital where he was initially refused admission because the hospital was whites-only. He died at the hospital, having under tragic circumstances achieved the milestone of being the first black person to be treated there.

Medgar Evers' house

Bullet hole by the toaster. Evers' wife and young children were at home at the time of his assassination

We also visited Beth Israel Congregation in Jackson, which was founded in 1860. Unlike the synagogue we visited in Natchez, Beth Israel is an active congregation. Their rabbi had interned at our congregation while he was in rabbinical school; in fact, the congregant with whom he had stayed during his internship was part of our group, so he was happy to see us. 

The congregation's rabbi during the 1960's, Perry Nussbaum, was a Yankee transplant and a strong advocate for civil rights, which put him a little out of step with his congregants, not all of whom were on board with this whole black/white equality thing. Both the synagogue and Nussbaum's home were bombed by the Ku Klux Klan, but apparently he was undeterred. At Beth Israel Rabbi Nussbaum was spoken of with great veneration. It was interesting after the trip to read up on him in Wikipedia. Apparently, while he was indeed a fearless advocate for civil rights, he was also a headstrong, sometimes abrasive character, who was shocked to find how assimilated his congregants were and chided them for having Christmas trees in their homes, and he complained they had no interest in Hebrew, Zionism, or much in the way of traditional religious practice. Welcome to Mississippi, Rabbi Nussbaum!

I will say that after Beth Israel was bombed, the Greater Jackson Clergy Alliance, which Nussbaum had founded, marched in support of the synagogue. The group of 60 clergy representing 10 faiths was the first interfaith event ever to take place in Jackson!

At lunch Rabbi Stein were again the odd people out, choosing a ramen restaurant where we could get vegetarian food (the ramen was much better than one would expect in Jackson, MS - and was delivered by a robot!). The group ate dinner together at Jackson institution Hal and Mal's. The vibe of the place was a little hard to figure out - TGIFriday's kind of decor, but a more upscale menu, and a live jazz trio. I had a tasty redfish platter ("redfish" is a southern thing - but I think it's really the same fish as either what we call drum or some species of snapper).

The next day we were headed to Greenwood Mississippi.


Ramen delivery robot

Visiting Charles in Upstate New York

Looking back, growing up I was friends with a lot of the weird kids. It makes me think - maybe I was a weird kid too? Let's table that l...