The Wandering Jew

The Jewish Home | MARCH 24, 2022 The Jewish Home | MARCH 24, 2022 The Wandering Jew Northwest America

Part I

By Hershel Lieber

A devastated section near Mount St. Helens

With the exception of one family trip to California for Pesach of 1983, we had really not traveled much in the States. Yes, we traveled to all the states along the Atlantic seaboard from Maine through Virginia, and we had been in Florida a couple of times. Yes, we had journeyed to quite a few countries in Eastern and Western Europe and, of course, made a few pilgrimages to Israel. Yet, we neglected the other thirty-five states in the U.S. and were definitely guilty of not “Seeing America First” as advocated by the popular travel slogan.

It wasn’t until the late ‘90s that we committed ourselves to explore our beautiful country. Besides seeing the natural wonders that Hashem bestowed in abundance throughout most of the continent, we were interested in exploring the cities and learning about the history and culture of its inhabitants. Above all, what excited us was meeting fellow Jews and becoming familiar with their communities. We also hoped to forge a meaningful relationship with our brethren.

And so, a week after Pesach, in May of 1997, we flew to the Northwest coast of America. Our itinerary would consist of Portland, Oregon, Seattle, Washington, and the cities of Vancouver and Victoria in British Columbia, Canada. Our nine-day trip would also include spending a Shabbos in the Seward Park section of Seattle, where there was a sizable active Orthodox community. The weather predictions looked favorable and the specific sights that we planned to take in seemed fairly interesting and intriguing.

After landing in Portland, Oregon, about noontime, we made our way to Pioneer Courthouse Square which was the city’s center of activity. Besides its historical significance, it was the cradle of Portland’s counterculture movement. Dozens of teens dressed in anti-establishment clothing, sporting tattoos and pierced body jewelry, with spiky hair styles in every color of the rainbow, some of them high on drugs, were sitting or lying aimlessly throughout this pretty square. It was a sad scene, yet indicative of an uninspired generation whose lives lacked motivation and direction. I didn’t look at them as bad people; rather I felt sorry that they found no meaning in their lives. I reached out to talk to them, and they joined me for a photo op. After walking around this area and doing some window shopping at Nordstrom, we returned to our hotel and