Andrew Malekoff
Three years ago on a bright September morning, my wife Dale
phoned me at my office in Roslyn Heights to tell me about something disturbing
that had just happened to her. It was a few days before the Jewish New Year
when our family comes together.
Dale and I both grew up in New Jersey. We relocated
permanently to Long Island after we were married in 1980. We raised our
children here. She has been teaching art to high school students at the Hebrew
Academy of Five Towns and Rockaway, a Yeshiva in Cedarhurst, for close to 35
years.
This is the story she told to me.
She had been shopping at King Kullen in Island Park, about a
mile-and-a-half from our home in Long Beach. She was standing in a checkout
line unloading a shopping cart full of groceries on to the conveyer belt.
A large man stepped up to wait in line behind her. He had
only a few items in a smaller hand-held basket. He seemed agitated; she said
she thought it was because he’d have to wait.
Trying to be helpful, she pointed out to him that a cashier
had just opened another register just a few aisles away and that there was no
one standing in that line.
The man didn’t react. He just stood there, muttering under
his breath, appearing to be dissatisfied with the pace of the transaction in
front of him.
In my wife’s basket were a number of items for cooking and baking
traditional foods for the holidays: brisket, chicken, soup greens, matzo ball
mix, and so forth.
Also in the basket were four Yahrzeit candles that we light
each year at this time to remember our parents, three of whom died in the
1990’s, all well before their 80th birthdays. My mother-in-law Ida
was the only one who made it past the age of 80.
The man continued mumbling under his breath and, finally, he
said out loud: "You know the ovens are still open."
It was a frozen moment. The checkout girl and Dale just
looked at one another. It was one of those surreal moments that can leave one
feeling momentarily numb.
There was no physical altercation, no yelling, no overt
anger. But, in my view, it was every bit of a violent moment.
As she recounted her experience she said, “I wish you were
there with me.” I thought about that. Had I been there I’m not sure what I
would have done. Initiated a physical confrontation? Shouted him down? Assessed him as mentally
disturbed and ignored him? Calmly asked him, “What do you mean by that?” I’ll
never know for sure.
What I do know is that anti-Semitism is alive and well.
My wife’s disturbing experience, on the eve of our High Holy
Days was a fleeting yet indelibly shocking moment and reminder of how close to
the surface anti-Semitism is, particularly in our increasingly divided nation
our children are inheriting.
Andrew Malekoff is the Executive Director of North Shore
Child & Family Guidance Center, which provides comprehensive mental health
services for children from birth through 24 and their families. To find out
more, visitwww.northshorechildguidance.org.
For publication in Theislandnow.com