A Summer Diary

Here is a ragtag and somewhat out-of-order collection of reminiscences of my summers throughout the years, which includes my birthday in mid-July. My first vivid memories date back to when I gave up my baby bottle. Is it possible I was three years old? I didn’t really want to give it up, but I recall my mother poking her head into the bedroom I shared with my younger baby brother, saying, “Laibe, it’s time to give up the bottle, make this the last one, promise me.”

I wanted to show her that I had the courage to do something I wasn’t really comfortable doing. I sat up, handed her the bottle, and in my young mind knew that was it. Done. Here we come, sippy cups.

Then there was the matter shortly thereafter when it was time for my “upsherin,” the first ceremonial cutting of a three-year-old boy’s hair in traditional Jewish life. I don’t recall much of that ceremony other than the haircut was completed in a barber shop, which made me so miserable I couldn’t stop crying. Upon reflection, I think the idea of being hustled into a barber’s chair involuntarily is quite an invasion of one’s privacy and that was how I felt about it at the time, considering that it was my first experience of that kind.

In the interest of space, I’m going to skip a few things and jump right into the summer of my bar mitzvah. It was at a time when I had begun going to sleepaway camp, which I wasn’t too crazy about, if memory serves and I’ve recounted in this space numerous times.

My parents, as I’ve mentioned previously, began traveling to Israel for about six weeks every summer beginning in 1963, which means they had to leave us little kids with my mom’s parents, Chaya Malka and Aaron Berger. We were very close to them and over those summers, became even closer. My grandparents, especially my grandmother, were so attached to us and we to her that we began looking forward to those summers we spent with our grandparents in the Catskills. After a few summers of that, we began going to sleepaway camp. But we missed those summers when my parents would go to Israel and we would stay in our bungalow in Ulster Heights, NY, which was near Ellenville.

In terms of communicating, the way we kept abreast of each other’s activities was primarily through the mail, either with post cards or the occasional airmail letter.

Phone calls were not impossible, but the technology was primitive and prohibitively expensive. Whether it was in the so-called bungalow colony with my grandparents or in summer camp, we received a sum total of one very long-distance phone call from Israel each summer.

Life has changed vastly since then, and today, both your children and other relatives in Israel are on speed dial on your cell phone and it costs mere pennies to speak with them for as long as you like. Back in the last century, when my parents planned those calls from Israel to New York, that one call of the summer probably cost somewhere between $30 and $40, which in today’s money is about $300.

I’m not complaining, but the fact is that my parents never took any of us kids to Israel with them on those trips. They offered to sponsor our trips if we wanted to go on tours or to yeshiva or school, but that is not the same thing as traveling to Israel as a family unit. My dad, as a journalist, was there each summer mostly to meet with people and work. I suppose that he and my mom understood what the nature of such a laborious undertaking would be if they had a family with them to entertain and lug around from place to place.

The fact of the matter is that Esta and I took several kids, if not all of our young family, at least twice to Israel as I recall, though it was not during the summer. Mostly it was around Chanukah time. As many of you know, my father’s yahrzeit falls on the sixth day of Chanukah. Other than that, we’ve been there during Sukkos and once on Shavuos.

I’m jumping around, but summer is a great time in Israel, and for the most part, aside from Chanukah, we’ve been to Israel over the summer for most of the last 20 years. We were going to go when the 12-day war with Iran broke out and all travel came to a halt. But it’s a long summer and I’m still thinking about it and who knows…

Once things settle down, I hope to be able to set up an exclusive 5TJT interview with U.S. Ambassador Mike Huckabee and several Members of the Knesset, including Itamar Ben-Gvir and perhaps even Naftali Bennett, who’s planning a political comeback leading into the next election.

I’ve always felt that summer and Israel were a natural combination, and they clearly belonged to each other. That might be because as each summer rolled around when we were kids, it meant that our parents would be gone—to Israel—for at least six weeks. I really cannot recall arriving in Israel and not landing into one kind of crisis or another. Usually, it was of the political variety more than actual war, but over the years, Israel has managed to endure a series of non-stop issues and problems.

As far as Esta and I are concerned, it was also the summer when we met. It was July 4th weekend and I was with my friend, Carmi, spending Shabbos as a guest at the once inimitable Grossinger’s Resort in Liberty, New York. It might be shocking by today’s frustrating and difficult shidduch standards, but as I recall, once Shabbos arrived, we entered the dining room and as there was no seating arrangement, people just sat wherever they wanted.

Of course, the objective of this social event was for young women to meet young men and vice versa. As it turned out, Carmi and I met up at a table with ten other young men similar to us. We made kiddush and then went to wash for the challah at the start of the meal. We sat down and I nudged Carmi and said to him that sitting with ten other men was a little crazy, so we excused ourselves and began perusing the ballroom to find other seats for us to dine.

Somehow, I spotted two empty seats out of the corner of my eye where there were some young men and women sitting. We politely asked if anyone was sitting there, and when they said the seats were not taken, we just moved right in. Esta was at that table with two friends of hers and I was with Carmi and that is where we ate our meals for the rest of that special weekend.

Up until that point, Esta later told me that she had only dated men based on being set up by shadchanim. My own experience, interestingly enough, was that I had only dated young women I met on my own at occasions like this or at college. In fact, at the end of the weekend, when I asked Esta for her phone number so I could call her to arrange another meeting, I think she was not sure how that worked. Anyway, I somehow talked her into giving me her number and we dated throughout the summer. It was all rather simple and uncomplicated considering that I had already decided that I wanted to marry her just about the minute we met. The only issue was how I would get from point A to point B. But as you can see, I somehow figured it out.

For most people, especially when you’re young, summertime is great because the weather is warm and nice and there is no school, which is a formula for the best of both worlds. Three of our children were born in June and several of our grandchildren were born during the summer months.

As you know the Fast of the 17th of Tammuz was last Sunday and Tishah B’Av, the day on which we mark the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, is coming up in just over two weeks. These are solemn and difficult days. There’s the fasting, the thought process, and the focus on who we are as Jews and our extraordinary historical experience. So it’s not all fun and games. But some day, I believe, this solemn day will be transformed into a day of celebration and joy.

We are G-d’s chosen people and we are learning at an increasing pace of late that the world doesn’t like that very much. So, while living our lives on G-d’s good earth, we also look forward to the time when we can realize our beautiful and promised destiny although it may appear at times that there are too many obstacles in the way for us to get there.

In last week’s Torah reading, the gentile prophet, Bilaam, said of the destiny of the Jewish people and the arrival of Moshiach and our national redemption that “He sees him, but not now. I shall look at him but he is not nearby. A star has issued from Jacob and a scepter bearer has risen from Israel….”

But He promised that we will see our future redemption. So, for now, we just believe in Him, close our eyes and feel Him in our lives, and we patiently wait. n

Read more of Larry Gordon’s articles at 5TJT.com. Follow 5 Towns Jewish Times on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for updates and live videos. Comments, questions, and suggestions are welcome at 5TJT.com and on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.