Passover So Far

Today (Thursday) is the sixth day of Passover. In Israel, the seventh day is a major holiday and then the holiday is over. In the diaspora, Conservative and Orthodox Askenazi Jews (German-Polish-Russian) observe an eighth day. We've been invited to a Passover dinner Friday night, and we will probably observe Passover until Saturday night.

We welcomed my sister Robin from Maryland Thursday afternoon. Our alternate cleaning woman (the daughter-in-law of the real cleaning woman) came in to help out. Robin went out with Joe to buy clothes Friday and helped him pick out some good suits. I went to the gym. In the afternoon, they cleaned out all the hametz, the food we can't eat for Passover. I'm taking a class at OLLI, Life-Long Learning, about Michael Moore movies. We saw Sicko, from 2006, about how terrible our health system is. Since then, the Affordable Care Act was enacted; things are somewhat better. Hillary Clinton, over the course of the movie, changes from an advocate for health care reform to a sell-out to the industry.

Friday evening, Joe led our temple seder at Lakeview, a resort near Morgantown. I sat at the head table with Joe; Robin sat with a couple she knows well. I migrated around to speak to people who have become my friends. The food was plentiful and good. I ate my annual piece of brisket, and a slice of flourless chocolate cake.

I didn't want to go to the Democratic Women's lunch Saturday. We all stayed home and took it easy.

We had three invitations for a second seder Saturday, but went to the home of friends who are also congregants. More great food and good company.

I was off the rest of the weekend as well, although we all attended an unveiling for the brother of a congregant Sunday and went back to the family home for a late Passover lunch. Joe ran off to Preston County, to do a model seder for a United Methodist Church . I got out on my bike in the morning to downtown, along the Mon River and up through the Arboretum, where spring wildflowers are in bloom.

Robin and Joe bonded over Scrabble. They both are cutthroats; I don't play because I am awful at it.
Robin left Monday and then it was back to the campaign.

With my husband and sister at the first seder

The second seder, led by our friend Art at home

Wildflowers at Core Arboretum Sunday morning

Wednesday night, The League of Women Voters held a forum for candidates. We were to bring snacks, so I brought those awful Passover colored fruit slices that I remember from childhood and wouldn't eat now, and some Spanish figs, which I did eat. They had sheriff candidates and prosecuting attorney candidates before they got to Delegate. There were ten of us; five Democrats for Delegate and two for Senator. The Republican slots are not contested in the primary. Five of the eight of us running for Delegate in the primary will run in the general election.

We only had three minutes to talk and one minute for two questions from the audience. Here's what I said, more or less. I didn't write it down before, and my three minutes were up before I could finish.

" It's Passover now. Four years ago at Passover, I was living in Crescent City, on the far north coast of California, with my husband, Rabbi Joe Hample. Joe worked as a chaplain at Pelican Bay State Prison. Because of a budget dispute with the Republicans, Governor Jerry Brown sent layoff notices to most of the state's employees the previous autumn. Joe applied for jobs at congregations. He let me pick out where to apply. We tried all the big cities and suburbs. No one asked Joe to come for an interview in thirty-six applications. I wrote on my blog ("Barry's Excellent Adventure," still on the internet at www.barrywendell.blogspot.com) that instead of "Next year in Jerusalem," the traditional last line of the seder, I would say "Next year in the city that hires Joe as its rabbi."

After Passover, I insisted he look at the list available to Reform rabbis to see if any other jobs had shown up. There was one: Tree of Life Congregation in Morgantown, West Virginia. Neither of us knew anything about Morgantown. I did some research. I found a large university, a pretty town with homes on the hills above a river. Tree of Life's motto on  their website said "You're Only A Stranger Once At Tree of Life." I said 'I think I found our new home.'

"Joe was skeptical.  He said 'They hate gay people in West Virginia.' I said 'I bet Morgantown isn't like that.'

"The congregation invited Joe for an interview, and he blew them away, as I knew he would. We moved here that July, and made lots of friends. Morgantown has become the home we were looking for. Except for the Republican legislature. In 2015, they introduced bills to take away mine safety regulations, to have voter IDs, to form charter schools, and a local delegate introduced a resolution to the US Congress, to pass an amendment to the Constitution to ban any recognition of same gender relationships. Someone had to do something. I had to do something. We know Morgantown as a friendly, inclusive town. I am running to represent that Morgantown in the state Legislature."

I didn't actually get to say all that in three minutes, but I got the idea across. I made an impression, a good one, for most people. The Delegate who introduced the anti-gay resolution (and also voted for the "right-to discriminate act" this session) saw me after at the refreshment table, and denied having done anything like that. It's in the record.

This morning, I listened to judge candidates on the radio on the way to my writing group. I will be on the same radio show Monday morning for ten minutes. I always wondered what would happen if I were interviewed by Fox News, but I assumed that would never happen. Now it will. I heard the questions they asked two candidates this morning, and how they answered, so I have some idea what the interviewers are like, and what to say and not say as an answer.

I was at the mall where OLLI meets early. People had said to go to the senior centers and chat them up. The center at this mall has bingo at 10, so I was told to get there at 9:30. I was a few minutes later than that. Another Delegate candidate was there, and a judge candidate, handing out pens and cookies, and the county assessor, who is unopposed in the primary. I met a few friendly people, including a woman who said she would only vote for anti-abortion candidates. We had a polite conversation about that. A group of men was eating cheese crackers over by a pool table near the door. I introduced myself and one asked me about my platform. I explained it in a few words. Another man, who wouldn't look directly at me, said he was looking for a KKK candidate. I said "You want that?" He said "Maybe that will clean up this mess, or maybe we could get another Hitler to run. That would help." I suggested he vote for two Republican candidates I named. "They should be close to what you want." I said "Have a nice day," which often has a specific meaning in California, which I won't repeat here. I walked out to my writing group and penned this.

Early voting continues through May 7 at Mountaineer Mall and two other locations, east and west of Morgantown. Primary Day is May 10.

The Campaign So Far

We have a few weeks left in the campaign for Delegate in the 51st District. I've met lots of new people - the local activists, humanists, and Bernie Sanders supporters. I have a new Morgantown crowd.

 Before the campaign, the advice I got from political activists was "Don't run." I haven't raised a lot of money and  I didn't spend most of what friends have sent on the theory that if I win the primary, I will need cash to counter the corporate money the Republicans will have.

I've been living figuratively in the "South Park Bubble," the liberal, largely Jewish, activist neighborhood of big old houses and brick streets south of downtown and walking distance to West Virginia University's Downtown Campus.

I attended a Democratic chicken lunch, cooked by volunteers, in a church auditorium in Granville, an industrial town just across the Mon river from Morgantown. I was in a suit, because I was at a bar mitzvah at Tree of Life earlier.  All of us candidates spoke (we were only supposed to introduce ourselves). The people, coal miners and blue collar workers, mostly older and, with very few exceptions, American-born Caucasians. were in T-shirts and jeans. One of the other candidates said he wouldn't show up in a suit for an event like this one. A speaker for Jim Justice, who switched parties to run for Governor as a Democrat, and is the wealthiest man in West Virginia, pointed out that his candidate was not an "Obama Democrat." I felt out of place.

I spoke this week at "Mountaineers For Progress." They had a forum for candidates with questions the moderator was to ask us. We had two minutes to answer. Eight of us showed up- seven of the eight Democratic candidates and one Republican, a WVU student. We had the questions in advance. I didn't write anything down, but I knew what I wanted to say. That event went well. We stuck to issues (except for a two-minute introduction). Most of us Democrats were on the same page and the forty people in the audience were receptive.

Yesterday there was an "after hours" meeting at a local law office, sponsored by The Morgantown Chamber of Commerce. I had my regulation blue blazer on. There was food: shrimp things, beef on little crusty pieces of bread and "firecracker chicken meatballs." I stuck to fruit and vegetables and one cookie. The men at this event were in suits; the women were well-coiffed and with designer purses, in dresses and heels. Nothing at all like the Democratic lunch Saturday. Candidates were specifically invited. The judge candidates (whose positions will be decided in the primary) were all there. I got the impression that most of the people were avoiding me, but then I saw that the other candidates were also shunned. We spoke to each other, and I met a young woman and man who work for Sprint, out of place in Sprint uniform shirts and jeans. The Sprint woman was the only African-American in the room.

Someone told me he couldn't vote for me in the primary because he is a Republican. A pretty young woman who is finishing law school talked about working on Republican Shelley Moore Capito's Senate campaign. I met the contractor building Ruby Memorial Hospital's new children's wing. He said he lives in Nashville. We local Democrats didn't have much of a constituency in the room.

I've been invited to the Democratic Women's Lunch this Saturday. I told them I couldn't come because it is the first day of Passover. They said I could just introduce myself and not stay for lunch. The person involved was nice about it, so I said I might go. I probably won't. I'm way overtired, and my sister Robin will be here. Better to acknowledge the holiday and take the day off and spend it with family. We have a temple seder Friday night, and we are going to a home seder with friends Saturday night.  I have to set a line for myself and say "It is important to me not to campaign on this holiday."

I finally got signs for my campaign. There are probably ten or fifteen of them out - six in South Park, two on our street and the rest scattered around among the Bernie Sanders people, who have endorsed me.

In today's Dominion-Post, our local newspaper, the West Virginia Business and Industry Council listed its endorsements. They endorsed the three Republican incumbents in our District. No one I know understands how these people got elected: they are anti-choice, anti-union, anti-gay, and anti-environment. They countered pleas from law enforcement and passed a  bill allowing anyone over twenty-one to carry a concealed weapon with no permit. Of course, the Council wants to make sure there are no regulations on auto dealers, nursing homes, and polluters. That's where their money ( and a lot of it) for the Republican incumbents comes from.

The Bernie people feel that Hillary stole New York from Bernie, but really, it's just the way the game is played. It's actually worse in West Virginia. My fellow Democrats who think they will win against the Republicans because "I'm an eleventh generation West Virginian and my father was a coal miner" or "I'm a father and husband and small business owner," well, they are as delusional as I am. I think I can win by standing up for abortion rights, gay rights, cultural, racial and religious diversity, the environment, and labor against management. None of us really understands what we are up against.

Our house with my sign

At the Brooklyn debate Watch Party

Democratic Party Chicken Lunchlast wek - 7 of the 8 Democrats running for Delegate in our District

At the opening of the Bernie Sanders For President office in Morgantown

Let's Get Lost- Bucks County Edition

Bucks County and I have a history. In 2009, when Joe was ordained, Hebrew Union College put its graduates through a placement procedure, matching new rabbis with congregations. The problem was that the economy crashed in 2008, and many rabbis who had planned to retire found themselves without savings. And synagogues planning to hire a second rabbi changed their minds. So Joe was only asked to visit two congregations: one in Johnson City, Tennessee (although the synagogue building was in Blountsville, not that close), and the other was in Levittown, Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

I went with him to meet the congregation in Levittown, and they followed all the rules laid out by Hebrew Union College, except one. That was the one where they agreed not to discriminate because of sexual orientation. They told him they would not hire him because some members disapproved of his lifestyle. That's how they put it.

The people who took us around told us that the congregants didn't live in Levittown, which they considered low-class. They were more likely to live in newer suburbs, in bigger houses, like in Newtown, for instance. Anyway, Pelican Bay State Prison hired Joe a few months later, and we were off to Crescent City. The temple in Levittown merged with another Reform temple, probably the one in Newtown, and the rabbi they hired in 2009 lost his job.

I have my rules for where to go on these monthly trips. If you take old Mapquest, where you can ask for shortest distance instead of shortest time, the county courthouse has to be within three hundred miles (500 kilometers) of Monongalia County's courthouse on High Street in Morgantown. The Bucks County Courthouse in Doylestown is 299.94 miles away. And any county with more than 450,000 people gets an extra day. I made up the rules, so I try to follow them.

I did drive the shortest time, and the hotel chain I usually stay with gave me one of my three nights for free on points. I stayed in Bensalem, close to the border Bucks County shares with Philadelphia. Wikipedia says there is an Orthodox Jewish community and a Buddhist temple modeled on one in Thailand. I didn't see evidence of either of these.

My route took me on the Pennsylvania Turnpike from Bedford, north of Cumberland, Maryland, to U.S. 1, the old north-south road from Maine to Florida, in Bucks County. The toll was $26.40.

I had my list of places on The National Register of Historic Places - 256 of them, and I thought I would try to get to all of them- working south to north and taking a picture of each. I spent an hour looking for the first two when I got in, then headed to one of the two big malls to scout it out and have dinner.

The food court in Neshaminy Mall

I had my usual Japanese fast food. This is the older mall, in the south end of the county, the fifties and sixties suburbs of Philadelphia. There was a mix of ethnic people in the mall, mostly junky stores, but a Macy's , and Boscov's, a department store that advertises it is still owed by the original (certainly Jewish) family.

It occurred to me that I should limit myself to ten historic places each day, so I randomly chose twenty (every seventh and fifteenth) and divided them equally by north and south at 40 degrees, 15 minutes latitude. I also saw that in boroughs (what they call incorporated places) there might be other places close by. I tried to map everything out Monday night before I went to sleep, causing me to be up too late.

What I found is that there are layers of development, like in Rome or Jerusalem, but starting much later. William Penn himself founded Bucks County early on, and there are small colonial towns and farmhouses scattered around the county. Then, as Philadelphia grew up nearby, there were railroad commuter suburbs dating from the mid-nineteenth century. Following World War Two, Interstate 95, the bypass of the Pennsylvania Turnpike (I-276) and the Northern Extension (I-476) brought an explosion of new suburban housing. In the northern reaches, I found new developments of faux-colonial mansions, and new townhouses by the thousands, luxurious and not. In addition there are grand estates, new and old, owned by the wealthy of New York. It's a "thing" to have a country house in Bucks County. Still there are open spaces, with signs pointing out that land has been donated to a conservancy to be maintained either as forest or farm. There are pretty small towns that have kept development out on their edges.

I started Tuesday in Langhorne, both a colonial town and a railroad suburb, now off four-lane U.S. 1. My listing was for the Tomlinson-Huddleston House, on Maple, the main Street in Langhorne. The downtown area is a historic district, and the library and the Joseph Richardson House are also on The National Register.

The Tomlinson-Heddleston House

Joseph Richardson House. Lots of houses in suburban Baltimore and Philadelphia look like this, but this is the real deal, dating from 1738.

Langhorne library, 1888

I missed a house in one of the townships (the unincorporated places), then found a bridge in the borough of Yardley. That didn't look like much, but Yardley has a historic district and a commuter rail station.

Yardley has a mix of colonial (above) and Victorian (below) houses. On Main Street, they are mainly businesses, some touristy and some more local, like doctors' offices and insurance companies.

The highlight Tuesday was visiting the site where Washington crossed the Delaware on Christmas night, 1776, to engage the Hessians, fighting for the British, in a battle for Trenton. This is considered the turning point of the Revolution, the time when it actually looked like we could beat the British. A community grew up there called Washington's Crossing, and there is a park celebrating the event and the subsequent town. Lucky for me it was sunny and in the low 50s, although windy. With trees and flowers in bloom, the park looked sparkly.

Looking across the Delaware River from the park on the New Jersey side

The bridge, built in 1905, from the Pennsylvania side

An early house, now part of the park

The left wing of this building was an inn that existed at the time of Washington's crossing the Delaware. The right side was added after the Revolution.

The pathway through the park. This is part of a trail the length of Bucks County along the Delaware and the canal that parallels part of the river

It was time for lunch, so I headed to my next stop, Newtown. I saw both the Conservative and Reform synagogues outside of town, near the new, big houses. They didn't look like much. I found a rustic-looking suburban shopping center with McCaffrey's Supermarket, not as good as Wegman's or Whole Foods, but with a hot and cold bar, where you could get lunch. There was a seating area off to the side. I was proud of myself for getting all veggies- salad, pineapple, black beans, and a "Moroccan Quinoa Salad." And an "everything" bagel. With a bottle of sugar-free iced tea, it came to less than ten dollars

Fully fortified, I headed into the borough of Newtown. My historic place was the old Presbyterian Church. I found that and a main shopping street, with a book and record store. I found a flyer for Newtown Chabad, near the center of town. Having three synagogues, according to my rules, makes Newtown an MJC, Major Jewish Center. I took pictures of the church and a few other historic spots, and I bought David Bowie's nearly posthumous album. It's brilliant, depressing and exhilarating all at once. Knowing he was dying, Bowie wrote an album about it.

Old Newtown Presbyterian Church

Newtown Friends Meeting House

Half-Moon Inn, Newtown

Court St., Newtown

Court St., Newtown

more proof that Newtown is and MJC- bumper sticker on Court St.

I've been back a week now, and I hope to finish this piece today. I feel like Zack Hample, Joe's half-brother, who writes endless blogs about baseball games he has attended.

On the way to to Doylestown, the county seat, I looked for Churchville, a historic district not in a borough. After some wandering through the suburbs, I found the historic area.

House in Churchville Historic District

I finally found Doylestown around three P.M. It was my goal to be back at the motel for a nap by 4. That didn't happen. There is a historic district in the center of Doylestown.

Fountain House, Main Street, dates back to 1758, was remodeled several times in the 19th century

State Street, Historic District, Doylestown. The theater is run as a non-profit and shows art house movies

Bucks County Court House

A House in the historic district

A House in the historic district

Mercer Museum, 1916, poured concrete

James A. Michener Museum, formerly the warden's house for a prison. Michener lived in the area.

I thought maybe I would come back to see a movie in Doylestown, but it was after four when I headed back to my motel. It took close to an hour to get the eighteen miles from Doylestown to Bensalem. I crashed- fast asleep, from five to six, then took another hour to catch up with e-mail and get enough energy together to look for dinner.

I decided to go to Levittown, a census-defined place, and site of our ill-fated trip in 2009. It's at the far south end of the county, near Philadelphia, not far from where I was staying. I still had trouble finding it. It reminded me of where I grew up in Baltimore, tiny ranch-style and cape cod houses, close together. Levittown is better organized than Campfield Gardens, my Baltimore suburb, mostly just because it was planned on a larger scale. When we were there in 2009, we heard about a near riot from white home owners when an African-American family moved in. I stopped at a sub shop for dinner and a grocery store for fruit and snacks. The people in the store were from a variety of races and ethnicities. I ate in the room, looked at the local paper, which complained that the schools couldn't find substitutes. Maybe if they paid them well and provided benefits, but don't get me started.
I watched a little television. There was a commercial for Republican Senator Pat Toomey.It showed a city burning and said how Toomey stood with the police and protected "you" when there were riots. This is what they mean by "dog-whistle" racism.

Wednesday started warmer and I had an ambitious agenda for the northern part of Bucks County. Things didn't go well. I found the Byecroft Farm Complex, an estate that has been in the same family for centuries, now preserved as farm and open space.

Byecroft Estate House

                   Open space at Byecroft

Next up was a house in New Hope. This town is a resort on the Delaware River. it was a notoriously gay town in the 70s, full of high-end antique stores and gay bars and hotels. I visited in 1975 with my friend Harvey from Baltimore. We stayed in a hotel in a big old house. As I remember it, the barn was converted into a gay club. I remember what happened fondly, and let's leave it at that. The place I was looking for was in the hills above town- all streets with "Private Road-No Trespassing" signs. I couldn't find what I was looking for, so I drove into town. There were people out on a cool Wednesday morning at the end of March. There were now t-shirt and sunglass shops and a large chain donut shop on the main corner. It's still a pretty town. I found an independent bookstore, and asked about the club I had been to in the 70s. A man and woman working there couldn't remember the name of it, nor could an elderly woman who came in to the bookstore. I was surprised that they were even discussing this. They told me about the one gay hotel-club still active in the town. I said "I can't say up late enough now to go there." I felt like the old man who returns to Paris in that Kingston Trio song, visiting a town full of ghosts of ex-lovers and friends, including a younger version of himself.

Victorian house in New Hope

New Hope

Hotel and Tavern in New Hope

Path on the Delaware River Canal, New Hope

Bridge from New Hope to Lambertsville, New Jersey on the Delaware River

Rhoads Homestead, New Hope

House in New Hope

The next historic place is called Phillips Mill, and appeared to be on Route 32, River Rd, just north of New Hope.

I think this is it, but there was no sign. There were a few other old stone buildings nearby.

There were other country places to look for, but River Road was detoured, and I had to find my way around on my own. I missed a turn somewhere, and tried to get back to a main road. On the way, I saw some abandoned silos and snapped a pic.

There were newer large suburban homes on the other side of the road.

I found a main road after quite a while. A sign said "Welcome to Doylestown" and just outside of what appeared to be the borough limits, I found "Manhattan Bagels." I had an "everything " bagel with lox and low-fat cream cheese. The young man at the counter asked me about my ring. I told him it was Eilat stone from Israel, and he bemoaned that he was now thirty-one and had missed his chance for a free trip to Israel from Birthright. I suggested he try ZOA. I went on their trip to Israel for young people at thirty-five in 1985.

There was one major borough left on my tour, in the far northeast part of Bucks County: Quakertown. I decided to go there and call it a day. Interesting place, as it turns out. Not gentrified, with a large Mexican population.

Historic Train Station, Quakertown

Main Street, Quakertown

5&10, half store, half museum

Along Main St, Quakertown

 There was a crowd standing around outside a store. I walked over to check it out. This is what they were selling.

Enoch Roberts House, about 1840, dormers and portico added later, Quakertown

Inn, Quakertown

Liberty Hall, Quakertown

 I had directions back to the motel- not that complicated, except I must have missed a turn. It took me about an hour to get back, from 3:30-4:30 P.M.

I slept and got back out about six. I had seen a Panda Express near the motel. It's one of those places you might not go to, unless you lived somewhere where there wasn't one, and then you miss it. I had my usual chicken and rice and vegetables. I asked for half the rice and more veggies.

I thought I would go to Bristol, the largest and probably most historic borough in the county, located along the Delaware at the south end of Bucks County. I didn't pick up any places there in my algorithm. I thought I could get there before dark, but I missed the entrance to U.S. 1 South coming out of the restaurant, then missed the entrance to U.S. 9 North to Bristol. I finally got there, after dark. Luckily, my camera adjusts for available light.

Here are some random pics in Bristol.

Naturally, I got totally lost coming back from Bristol to the motel. I couldn't find the streets I was looking for. I was heading north at one point, turned left to head west, then found I was southbound somehow. I was frustrated.

I came back to Morgantown Thursday, the thirty-first of March. I came down I-95 through Philadelphia and Wilmington and through the I-95 tunnel in Baltimore, up the Beltway to 70 and 68 home. It was twenty miles farther than the Pennsylvania Turnpike and took a half-hour longer. I saved $18.00 in tolls.

I've been back sixteen days, and I'm finally ready to publish this.