It's That Jewish Thing

I grew up in what’s called the downriver area of Detroit. I lived in Trenton until I was 11 at which time we moved to Oak Park. Growing up Jewish in Trenton had its challenges, as there were very few of us around. There was, however, a synagogue in the city that served the entire area. Until recently I couldn’t understand why there would be a temple in the area. I found that when companies started making their homes in the area, companies like Wyandotte Chemical, many scientists were needed. Well, it seems that many of these scientists were Jews and when they moved into the area it brought up the need for a synagogue to be built.

Anyway, we were members of the local synagogue, Beth Isaac, and we stayed members until we moved away. I went to Hebrew school there, spent the high holidays there and literally learned what little I know about Judaism there. My brother Steve was also Bar Mitzvah there. My grandfather was also a member and would go to Sabbath services every Friday night when he was physically able to. I would usually go with him and we would always sit in the last row on the very left side of the place. The last row, like it was some big place, there were only six rows to choose from.

Well, as stated earlier, we moved away and would only go down there for the high holidays. After a few years, Grandpa died and we stopped going all together. I had my Bar Mitzvah at a synagogue in the north suburbs of Detroit, as did my brother David. I moved to California and honestly, I don’t think I ever set foot in a temple the entire time I was out there. It wasn’t anything I avoided on purpose or anything like that, it just wasn’t important to me. I married a non-Jewish girl, raised our kids how she wanted them to be raised and again, it wasn’t a big deal to me.

Since I’ve moved back to Michigan, as stated in numerous other posts, I’ve reacquainted myself to many of the folks I went to school with in the city we left Trenton for, Oak Park. To say there was a cultural difference between Trenton and Oak Park would be like saying the same about New York City and Butte, Montana. From being considered an outcast as the only Jews around to having a Cantor as a next-door neighbor was, to say the least, different. It used to blow me away when the schools would close for the Jewish Holidays in O.P. I remember missing numerous assignments that I had to catch up on in Trenton. Anyway, I digress.

The temple in Trenton was built in 1963, I was two at the time and certainly do not remember that as a time to remember. To me, Beth Isaac was always there. I don’t remember not going there as a kid. I do remember the place being vandalized and burned beyond recognition when I was six. I remember Mom driving us by it and what was left of the outside walls were painted with swastikas and other graffiti that was quite hurtful to both my parents and especially my grandfather. We ended up having our Hebrew school lessons at the local high school until the temple was rebuilt and the only thing left of the original building was a huge Star Of David that, though charred, was still in pretty decent shape. The star was hung on the wall inside the temple and is still there to this day.

A couple weeks ago I went down to Trenton for Sabbath services. They only hold them twice a month now and I had Mom check to see if there would be services that Friday night. I went down and was just enthralled with the place. It truly hasn’t changed a bit. I got there early and was met by the President of the congregation. He allowed me entry into the sanctuary and let me take pictures. I was able to check the whole place out and it really was quite emotional for me. He opened the Arc and I took pictures of the Torahs inside. My Grandfather donated one of them many years ago.

As a child there would be 25 to 30 people there on any given Friday night. There were only five, besides me, on this evening. I spoke to each of the people there. Some remembered my Grandfather and one even remembered him bringing a little boy with him whenever he would come. I let them know that that little boy was me. I sat in the same seat we always sat in and while seated I could just picture all the people that used to be there. I can probably name all the folks that sat around us all those years ago.

During the service we talked a bit about the things I remembered and I mentioned that it was quite a testament to the Jewish community that services were still being held there. They said that once a month a student Rabbi comes for services and the crowd is much larger. I’ll probably head down for that one of these weekends and I’m sure I’ll be called to read from the Torah. I’ll ask beforehand if they can use the one Grandpa donated, it’ll make it that much more special for not only me but also him, just in case he’s out there somewhere.