-Source-Townhall-
I moved to California from New York City in 1976. The founder of what was then America's largest Jewish retreat center, the Brandeis Institute (not affiliated with the university), Dr. Shlomo Bardin, asked me to work as his assistant. He was 75 years-old; I was 25. One weekend the next year, he announced to the membership he wanted me to succeed him. To everyone's shock, he died that very week. It was then renamed the Brandeis-Bardin Institute.
The institute was located in Simi Valley, California, then more a small town than even a small city. It had all of two restaurants. I lived there for three years and joined the Simi Valley Rotary Club.
To the best of my memory, I was the only Jew in that Rotary chapter. What struck me was that my being a Jew meant essentially nothing to the other members. No one cared. Not even a little.
If you are an American, my reaction makes little sense. You are wondering why it struck me that my being a Jew meant nothing to the entire membership.
The reason was I knew Jewish history. Prior to moving to California, I taught Jewish history at Brooklyn College. Nowhere in the Jews' 3,000 years as a people living in non-Jewish societies did being a Jew ever mean nothing to the non-Jews among whom they lived.
Even in 1976. Read more