Passover this year will go down as one of the strangest since... Moses and the Israelites left Egypt. The comparisons I've seen are to people in hiding from the Nazis trying to create some semblance of a holiday, or concentration camp inmates eating forbidden bread or fasting on Passover. We are locked in. Not completely here in West Virginia, where we can go out to get some exercise and fresh air, and can run to the grocery store as long as we stay apart. But we can't gather in large groups for a seder, can't get together with friends and family, can't have a caterer do all the cooking and serving.
We're privileged that we can still have a seder at all. At Tree of Life here in Morgantown, Rabbi Joe will do a short seder on social media. He and I will have a simple Passover meal after the formal seder. Our cleaning woman offered to come this coming week, and the house could use a pre-Passover cleanse. I plan to tell her not to come, and we will do what we can to get the bread crumbs out before the holiday.
Joe and I are not suffering materially. Our income and health insurance are not threatened, we don't owe money except the mortgage, which is less than most people here pay for rent. Joe did say something about having to put up with me all the time. I could say that about him, too.
There is the strangeness of it all. We both went to the grocery store Sunday, early "before the crowds." Yet the store was crowded. Half of the people there were wearing masks and gloves. People looked away or frowned if they thought I was getting too close. The cashiers had a glass wall up between them and us, and after years of bringing reusable bags, we are being told not to.
In our state, it seems like overreaction. Almost all of the thirty-five cases here in Monongalia County were in one nursing home. Only one person has died. Berkeley and Kanawha counties, both with larger population than our county, now have more cases. Testing in West Virginia is limited, and results can take eleven days, so who knows? The news from larger cities is so grim that it strikes fear into my heart. Most of the cases are mild unless one is over seventy or has underlying heart, lung or immune system problems. Check, check, check and check.
I've been running and walking about twenty minutes every day lately. I take the same route, running until it hurts, then walking the uphill parts. Given a choice, I would rather drop instantly from a heart attack while running then die with a tube down my throat, in a hospital, unable to breathe.
The point of Passover is staying alive and being careful. Moses' sister puts him in a basket, the Israelites are saved from death over and over. We celebrate being alive. We have to be grateful at this season for what we have, create new memories of a very different Passover, and take the precautions we can.
I wish my Jewish readers a memorable Passover, and my Christian readers, a meaningful holiday season this week.
Showing posts with label Passover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Passover. Show all posts
Saturday, April 4, 2020
Sunday, May 19, 2019
Coshocton County, Ohio
It's been a few weeks since I visited Coshocton, so maybe my memory is already fuzzy. I left the weekend before the Morgantown City Council election. I was sick of the whole thing: the corruption that might never be investigated, that I had paid lots of money for ads hat were running on Rush Limbaugh's radio program, the snarkiness of the local talk show hosts, the candidates who ran as an informal group two years ago, but didn't want to work together this year, my opponent who signed up as a write-in six weeks into the process- all of it. Coshocton was my next county anyway, so I left town.
Cindy at the gym, who gave me my workout routine and has line dancing classes, told me that she and her husband had been to Coshocton on vacation, to see Amish crafts and be out in the country. There are fewer than 40,000 people in the county, and since it is 158 miles from Morgantown, it's worth one night out. I left Saturday, the 27th of April, technically the eighth day of Passover, but Reform Jews don't necessarily observe the eighth day. Anyway, traveling without Joe to another county where two-thirds of the people voted for the current President, I put on my white, possibly straight and Christian front. That's a privilege that others don't have, and I use it. Still, Coshocton is better than other places with similar voting patterns. Some counties are one-third African-American, especially in Virginia or Maryland, and if two-thirds of their voters pulled the lever for the President, it means all the white people voted for him. In this county, with an almost all-white population, it means things are more balanced.
I booked a hotel in a chain I had never heard of that seems to only exist in Ohio. It's near a river on the edge of downtown, so I thought it might be scenic, but it's mostly a commercial and industrial area with gas stations and fast food joints. They did have a bluegrass party Saturday night in the hotel meeting room. I didn't go, but it sounded fun.
It was warm and sunny when I arrived, but windy. A storm moved in and it rained later in the day and into the next day. My first sight in the county was near Plainfield, where a farm was up for auction. Cars were parked along the road, and I saw some bearded men in Amish clothing, white shirts, dark pants and suspenders.
There is a Main St. Historic District, mostly empty stores, as in much of Ohio, and a grand old courthouse. There was a furniture store across from the courthouse, with a table outside filled with stuff, including some CDs, cassettes, DVDs and VHS tapes. A sign said "Everything on this table 25 cents." I found a four-CD set from Reader's Digest called "Remembering the '60s." No rock and roll but hit records from Lawrence Welk, Pat Boone, Al Martino and The Letterman, but also Louis Armstrong, The Association, Brenda Lee and Mama Cass. I took it in to the woman at the register and said "This is four CDs." she said "It says 25 cents, so if you want it, that's it." A great bargain.
The former Newberry store on Main St., vacant for decades, has a mural with quotes from townspeople about there memories, things like "Me and my friends used to get tuna sandwiches at the lunch counter on Saturdays" or "My mom worked here for many years. She cried when the store closed."
Being my usual forgetful self, I didn't bring my phone cord or the notebook where I made notes on what to see in Coshocton. I found a shopping center, the closest to a mall in town, near the hotel. It is U-shaped, with lots of parking, no greenery, and several empty stores. I ducked into Subway for lunch, and as I was fumbling for change, the young woman at the cashier chatted me up in a surprisingly friendly way. There was a Verizon store open, next to the closed Radio Shack. I wanted to get a new phone cord, but instead I got a USB-USC cable. Long story. The HYM (handsome young man) who helped me wanted my name and email for their records, which I didn't want to give him. I paid cash, and he printed up a receipt with, as it turned out, his own name and address on it. He put the cash in his wallet, and said "I'll see you later." I thought it was flirtatious, although I know 22 year olds can't be flirting with me. Still I said. "It could happen." It didn't. I bought a new notebook at the dollar store in the same shopping center.
Roscoe Village is a historic district across the river and the old Ohio and Erie Canal. It looks like it predates Coshocton. There are touristy shops and people dressed up impersonating those from the early nineteenth century. You have to pay for a tour of that, which I didn't do. There is a highway separating the district from the canal now, which is too bad. I looked around there, but the weather was cooling and it was starting to rain. Since it ws getting to be nap time, I headed back to the hotel.
Many towns have Chinese buffet restaurants. The one in Coshocton is in the shopping center I visited earlier and I went there for dinner. It was not as good as most of them, but crowded anyway and I had enough to eat. I drove out before dark east and west of Coshocton, to Warsaw in the west, a settlement named for a rebellion by Polish patriots against Russian rule in the 1830s, and west to Lafayette, where there were two historic houses off the road that I couldn't find. I came back to Coshocton by way of Canal Lewis, a little suburb with a 19th century house.
I walked around town in the morning in cold drizzle looking for places on the National Register of Historic Places, many of which had been torn down. I found some interesting architecture, often vacant. Coshocton is a sad town.
I was as usual, glad to get away, however briefly. I found the few people I spoke to be friendly, and the area, surrounded by hills, but mostly flat with many flooded waterways, to be interesting. I had breakfast in the hotel Sunday and was home by 1 P.M., before Joe finished Hebrew school.
Cindy at the gym, who gave me my workout routine and has line dancing classes, told me that she and her husband had been to Coshocton on vacation, to see Amish crafts and be out in the country. There are fewer than 40,000 people in the county, and since it is 158 miles from Morgantown, it's worth one night out. I left Saturday, the 27th of April, technically the eighth day of Passover, but Reform Jews don't necessarily observe the eighth day. Anyway, traveling without Joe to another county where two-thirds of the people voted for the current President, I put on my white, possibly straight and Christian front. That's a privilege that others don't have, and I use it. Still, Coshocton is better than other places with similar voting patterns. Some counties are one-third African-American, especially in Virginia or Maryland, and if two-thirds of their voters pulled the lever for the President, it means all the white people voted for him. In this county, with an almost all-white population, it means things are more balanced.
I booked a hotel in a chain I had never heard of that seems to only exist in Ohio. It's near a river on the edge of downtown, so I thought it might be scenic, but it's mostly a commercial and industrial area with gas stations and fast food joints. They did have a bluegrass party Saturday night in the hotel meeting room. I didn't go, but it sounded fun.
It was warm and sunny when I arrived, but windy. A storm moved in and it rained later in the day and into the next day. My first sight in the county was near Plainfield, where a farm was up for auction. Cars were parked along the road, and I saw some bearded men in Amish clothing, white shirts, dark pants and suspenders.
There is a Main St. Historic District, mostly empty stores, as in much of Ohio, and a grand old courthouse. There was a furniture store across from the courthouse, with a table outside filled with stuff, including some CDs, cassettes, DVDs and VHS tapes. A sign said "Everything on this table 25 cents." I found a four-CD set from Reader's Digest called "Remembering the '60s." No rock and roll but hit records from Lawrence Welk, Pat Boone, Al Martino and The Letterman, but also Louis Armstrong, The Association, Brenda Lee and Mama Cass. I took it in to the woman at the register and said "This is four CDs." she said "It says 25 cents, so if you want it, that's it." A great bargain.
The former Newberry store on Main St., vacant for decades, has a mural with quotes from townspeople about there memories, things like "Me and my friends used to get tuna sandwiches at the lunch counter on Saturdays" or "My mom worked here for many years. She cried when the store closed."
Being my usual forgetful self, I didn't bring my phone cord or the notebook where I made notes on what to see in Coshocton. I found a shopping center, the closest to a mall in town, near the hotel. It is U-shaped, with lots of parking, no greenery, and several empty stores. I ducked into Subway for lunch, and as I was fumbling for change, the young woman at the cashier chatted me up in a surprisingly friendly way. There was a Verizon store open, next to the closed Radio Shack. I wanted to get a new phone cord, but instead I got a USB-USC cable. Long story. The HYM (handsome young man) who helped me wanted my name and email for their records, which I didn't want to give him. I paid cash, and he printed up a receipt with, as it turned out, his own name and address on it. He put the cash in his wallet, and said "I'll see you later." I thought it was flirtatious, although I know 22 year olds can't be flirting with me. Still I said. "It could happen." It didn't. I bought a new notebook at the dollar store in the same shopping center.
Roscoe Village is a historic district across the river and the old Ohio and Erie Canal. It looks like it predates Coshocton. There are touristy shops and people dressed up impersonating those from the early nineteenth century. You have to pay for a tour of that, which I didn't do. There is a highway separating the district from the canal now, which is too bad. I looked around there, but the weather was cooling and it was starting to rain. Since it ws getting to be nap time, I headed back to the hotel.
Many towns have Chinese buffet restaurants. The one in Coshocton is in the shopping center I visited earlier and I went there for dinner. It was not as good as most of them, but crowded anyway and I had enough to eat. I drove out before dark east and west of Coshocton, to Warsaw in the west, a settlement named for a rebellion by Polish patriots against Russian rule in the 1830s, and west to Lafayette, where there were two historic houses off the road that I couldn't find. I came back to Coshocton by way of Canal Lewis, a little suburb with a 19th century house.
I walked around town in the morning in cold drizzle looking for places on the National Register of Historic Places, many of which had been torn down. I found some interesting architecture, often vacant. Coshocton is a sad town.
I was as usual, glad to get away, however briefly. I found the few people I spoke to be friendly, and the area, surrounded by hills, but mostly flat with many flooded waterways, to be interesting. I had breakfast in the hotel Sunday and was home by 1 P.M., before Joe finished Hebrew school.
 |
| Thomas Johnson House, Plainfield |
 |
| Coshocton County Courthouse, 1873 |
 |
| Main St., Coshocton |
 |
| Johnson-Humrickhouse House, Coshocton |
 |
| Central Ohio Technical College, Roscoe Village |
 |
| Roscoe Village |
 |
| Lake at Roscoe Village |
 |
| Towpath on the old Erie and Ohio Canal |
 |
| Former warehouses in Roscoe Village |
 |
| Lamberson-Markley House, Canal Lewis |
 |
| Hotel Warsaw, c. 1903, Warsaw |
 |
| I thought this was the Old Union School, 1855, but apparently that building was demolished and this is a newer office building in a similar style. |
 |
| Row houses, vacant, about to be torn down, apparently |
 |
| Eldridge-Higgins Building, formerly a warehouse, now offices |
 |
| Railroad depot, now vacant |
 |
| Carnegie Library, 1906, now vacant |
Thursday, April 28, 2016
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.
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.
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 |
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)