The 5 Towns Jewish Times

Jerusalem Diary

Even though it was the middle of the day and outside the sun was shining brightly, the plane remained dark as if it were the middle of the night up until we began our descent into Tel Aviv.

The new (a few years old now) 787 Dreamliners on El Al (and probably on numerous other airlines) feature electronic blackout-type shades so that if the people near you want to sleep, they can do so without the high-noon sun beaming through the windows.

You might be wondering: if that is the case, then how do you know that the sun has come up and the time for the morning tefillah has arrived?

There’s an easy answer to that, as all you have to do is peruse the chart featured on your screen that has the relevant info, such as the earliest time you can put on tefillin, the time for the Shema and when it ends, what time is midday, and so on.

Even without the on-screen chart, you can always resort to the traditional methods of figuring these things out, like pressing the button beneath your window so that you can at least get a hint as to whether dawn has arrived.

This was the first time in a few years that I actually participated in an on-board minyan, as patching these things together over the years has been largely discouraged. There still are regular minyanim of these types but the urging over the years has been not to do so if you have to impose on other passengers sitting in those areas.

In this case, this past Sunday morning, there was a man saying Kaddish so we threw together a minyan between the business class and the premium economy area of the plane. The on-board staff was helpful and encouraging, and the minyan participants davened at a good pace to minimize any disruption.

I can recall a time, especially on El Al, when there were multiple minyanim for Shacharis no matter what. I think people are much more sensitive to their neighbors today, and many people just daven in or near the seats when the time for prayer arrives.

With just a couple of hours to go on the flight, the talk focused on the strikes at Ben Gurion Airport. The staff tasked with certain jobs went on strike without warning, leaving people’s luggage on planes that just arrived—and leaving people feeling somewhat paralyzed.

That was the story back on Friday when the luggage handlers, or whatever that position is called, decided to cease unloading arriving planes and loading luggage onto departing planes.

Now, no matter who you are, those circumstances are both troubling and annoying. And as you can imagine, that is particularly true on an erev Shabbos. On the other hand, from a labor union perspective it is a brilliant move. I have no idea what these luggage loaders wanted, but let’s just guess it was about more money and more paid leave and so on. If you want to get the airlines or the airport authorities’ attention, this has got to be the way to do it.

Anyway, after Nison Franklin’s bar mitzvah on Shabbos, after Ma’ariv and Havdalah, we took an Uber to Newark Airport in an effort to make the 11:50 p.m. El Al flight to Tel Aviv. We made it with plenty of time to spare, the flight left right on time, and in fact the pilot announced that we had landed 13 minutes ahead of schedule. I was watching the flight stats on my screen, and I saw that at some points the plane was traveling over 650 miles per hour.

You are probably curious about what happened once we emerged from passport control and into the large arena with the luggage carousels. As we were trekking down the long hallways, the young man helping us with our carry-ons said that earlier that day it was disastrous, and people had to wait 2–3 hours for their bags.

I don’t know who these union leaders are, but this is an awful thing to force on people who just flew 10–15 hours. In 1983, air traffic controllers who were federal employees decided to go on strike, thereby paralyzing air travel in the U.S. and indeed around the world. They were looking for higher wages, upgrades on outdated equipment, and a reduced workweek.

Ronald Reagan was president of the United States at the time. If you were around in those days or if you’ve read about the story, then you know that the controllers were in violation of federal law by going on strike. President Reagan fired them—12,000 in all—and aside from losing their jobs they were not allowed to ever be employed by the federal government again.

Of course, it took time, but new controllers were hired and eventually things got back to normal. And a vital lesson was taught about disrupting people’s lives in that fashion.

I don’t think anyone in Israel has that kind of courage, and I’m sure it would open a super-duper can of worms, with a bunch of other unions chiming in and possibly striking as well.

Here’s the kicker to this week’s story. We arrived at the carousel where Flight 026 from Newark’s luggage was scheduled to appear and, lo and behold, in the 40 years since we’ve been coming to Israel, we have never received our luggage so quickly. We looked at each other and said that whatever the strike was about it was suiting us well.

There is really nothing like summer in Israel. The airport and the streets are teeming with people from all around the world. The restaurants and the minyanim at the Kotel as well as in the local shuls are jammed. On my first day here, I met a man in shul whom I last saw in fifth grade, along with a few other people I know but rarely see.

On Monday I davened Minchah at the Kotel. The sun was beating down on us, a steady stream of people coming and going. I watched as security people stopped some folks who thought they could walk to the men’s side of the Wall; the women were directed to the other side. I saw another man walk away from the Kotel carrying two of those plastic chairs that people usually sit on there. He wasn’t stealing the chairs; he was just with some older people who needed a place to sit. He was stopped by the security people and asked to put the chairs back where he found them.

I’m writing these words after being here less than a day. I’m already loving every minute.

 

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