Father's Day Jewish News June 11, 2018 by United Jewish Federation of Tidewater

Happy Father’s Day A father-daughter trip to Israel

Supplement to Jewish News June 11, 2018 jewishnewsva.org | June 11, 2018 | Father’s Day | Jewish News | 15

Father’s Day Dear Readers,

temming from various moves to establish a holiday similar to Mother’s Day, the first Father’s Day took place in Washington State in 1910. It wasn’t until the

middle of the 1972 presidential campaign, however, that Richard Nixon signed a proclamation making Father’s Day a federal holiday—long after President Woodrow Wilson approved a resolution for Mother’s Day in 1914. One explanation given for the delay in making Father’s Day official was provided by a florist who noted that “fathers haven’t the same sentimental appeal that mothers have.” Translation: The florist business wasn’t going to benefit from Father’s Day. Maybe the florist business doesn’t flourish on the third Sunday in June, but others do. In fact, economists estimate that Americans spend more than $1 billion each year on Father’s Day gifts. Of course, for most, honoring and appreciating fathers and grandfathers doesn’t take place just on one prescribed day on the calendar – as evidenced by two articles in this section. The first, is a terrific story penned by Stephanie Adler Calliott. She and her two sisters recently returned from a trip to Israel with their dad, Beryl Adler. Talk about seizing the moment! I hope you enjoy reading about their adventures as much as I did. Rabbi Sharon Forman’s piece begins with an issue that I’m most familiar with— having her name misspelled (she often gets an uninvited ‘e’ inserted, while for me, it’s an extra ‘n’). As her article unfolds, however, we learn about the origin of her name. The revelation involves information from her dad (Rabbi Lawrence Forman) about her great-grandfather. Her article is on page 20. This special Father’s Day section also includes articles about a Jewish baseball star, Alex Bregman (page 19), and a gift idea (page 22) that gets planted in Israel (and, no it’s not a tree). Speaking of Father’s Day and gifts, within these pages are terrific options for quality places to shop for men, as well as delicious dining suggestions for where to take that

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16 | Jewish News | Father’s Day | June 11, 2018 | jewishnewsva.org

Father’s Day First Person

A trip of a lifetime: A father and his daughters in Israel Stephanie Adler Calliott

veryone has a hero. For me, it’s my dad, S. Beryl Adler. From extraordinary tomato gardener to dedicated flounder fisherman to champion gelato eater to ODU founding father (Monarch Magazine winter 2016), the man has always held my heart. So, when we had lunch together in March and talked about summer plans, there was no hesitation on my part as my dad reflected, “You know, I never made it to Israel. Your mother and I have been a lot of places, but never Israel. I guess I’ll never get there.” “I’ll go with you,” I replied. Six weeks later, my 89-year-old dad, my sisters, Dana Rosen and Anne Abraham, and I landed in Tel Aviv for a father-daughter adventure. We visited just after the 70th anniversary celebration, so patriotism was especially high, with banners flying everywhere—along Independence Trail in Tel Aviv, at the old train station in Jerusalem, and places in between. People

Dana Rosen, Stephanie Adler Calliott, Anne Abraham, and Beryl Adler begin their trip.

Beryl Adler.

Anne Abraham, Stephanie Adler Calliott, Dana Rosen, and Beryl Adler arrive in Israel.

were jubilant, as were we. It was somewhat ironic that I was the only one who had been to Israel. I went for the first time in 2007 on a Federation mission—sobbing—concerned I’d never see my college-bound son again (a true, but pathetic, story). This trip, my third, was glorious. The four of us were filled with excitement over what we’d see and experience together— me, the seasoned Israeli (knowing how to count to four in Hebrew), and my sisters and father, in the promised land together. My mother was thrilled for my dad and his girls. We covered a lot of ground in our nine days: Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Haifa, Caesarea, Masada, and the Dead Sea. Nico, our Romanian Jewish tour guide and archaeologist, provided historical details of old Jaffa and put up with our shenanigans in Caesarea (a tug of war between his “there is a lot more to see” and our “we want to collect a few more seashells”). He lovingly called my dad Saba, shared hidden gems with us, and pointed out ruins as we walked. My father (an attorney and former judge) had a keen interest in visiting the Knesset—we toured the chamber, admired the amazing Chagall tapestries, and took heed of the “don’t eat at the

cafeteria” warning. When we visited the Haganah museum, Dad shared his vivid memories of the formation of Israel as well as his Zionist summer camp experience when he and his cousin, Mort were 16. He recounted his mother’s impression from her visit 45+ years ago. He’d finally made it to Israel. We thought it would be cool to be a Foodie: we took a Carmel Market food tour (tasting as we went); we visited the Marzipan bakery in Jerusalem (eating warm rugulah from the oven); we mastered the hotel breakfast buffet each morning. We ate shakshuka, shawarma, falafel, halvah, Israeli salads, Nutella, babka (“chocolate crunch”), and hummus. We tried burekas, Armenian cheese, and malabi; we ate popsicles on Rothschild Blvd. We did not leave hungry—sababa and mitzyun food was abundant! There was a short period of torrential rain during our visit and the country mourned the loss of 10 hikers swept away in a flash flood. We went to Independence Hall, floated in the Dead Sea, took the cable car up to Masada, visited Hebrew University, and walked the amazing ruins of Caesarea. We went to the Kotel, took the tunnel tour, explored the underground passages of the City of David, and continued on page 18

jewishnewsva.org | June 11, 2018 | Father’s Day | Jewish News | 17

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attended a Tchaikovsky concert by the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra. We toured Yad Vashem, walked Mahane Yehuda and Ben Yehuda Street, and visited our cousin who’d made Aliyah 30 years ago (a t-shirt wearing attorney in a large law firm). We used our Gett apps and our 019 Sim cards. We bought dishes, mezuzot, spices, Maccabean coins, baked goods, and dried

fruit. We lugged our purchases and our photo-laden iPhones home with us, grinning from ear to ear. When we returned home, we posed for a family photo: my mom, dad, and sisters and I all wearing our new Masada hats. It is my favorite Adler family photo, following a trip of a lifetime and one I will never forget—the perfect response to “I guess I’ll never get there.”

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Back in Virginia wearing Masada hats: Dana Rosen, Anne Abraham, Stephanie Adler Calliott, and Leonette and Beryl Adler.

Father’s Day

Alex Bregman is baseball’s next Jewish star Hillel Kuttler

WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. (JTA)—Sitting on a couch near his locker at the Houston Astros’ spring training facility, Alex Bregman reflected about an encounter his father had at the World Series last fall. It was in Los Angeles, between innings of the opening game. Sam Bregman was headed for a Dodger Stadium concession stand to grab a nosh wearing his Astros jersey with the No. 2 and his surname stitched on the back—a facsimile of his son’s uniform. The young Bregman, a third baseman, had just slugged a home run off Dodgers ace Clayton Kershaw. A fan grabbed Sam Bregman’s arm. “Are you Alex’s dad?” “I am,” the elder Bregman replied. “Is he Jewish?” “Yeah.” The man was a Dodger fan, but still he flashed what Sam Bregman described as “a look of great contentment” at the ballplayer’s heritage. “I got such a kick out of it,” Sam Bregman says in a phone interview near his home in Albuquerque, New Mexico. “It made me feel so proud.” Alex Bregman’s take on the encounter: “It’s definitely cool to have fans around the world give their support. It keeps you motivated to know that everyone has your back.” Bregman can expect to have more fans on his bandwagon, Jewish and otherwise, following a strong 2017 season and the first World Series title for the Astros—to which he contributed mightily. He knocked in a run in each of the first five games, added a second home run, threw out a runner at home plate to preserve a scoreless tie in Game 4 and had the run-scoring single that ended an epic Game 5 in the 10th inning, 13–12. During the 2017 season, the former No. 2 overall draft pick out of Louisiana State averaged .284, pounded 39 doubles and 19 home runs, and stole 17 bases. Two days after the Game 7 road victory, Bregman celebrated at the championship parade in Houston. Thousands of fans

lined streets in a city still recovering from Hurricane Harvey flooding a couple of months earlier. “To see their pure joy,” Bregman says, “gave me the chills.” The experience capped a memorable year for Bregman that began with his playing for the U.S. team that won the World Baseball Classic title in March. Israel’s squad, which finished sixth overall in the WBC, had sought his services. In retrospect, he says, “I probably should’ve” played for Israel “because I got [just] four at-bats” playing as a backup for the American team. Regardless of who comes calling in 2021, Bregman said, he’s unlikely to participate. Astros manager A.J. Hinch says he expects Bregman to “build off the momentum he generated in the postseason and throughout the whole season last year.” He calls Bregman “a true baseball rat,” someone who “loves the game, loves practice, loves being around his teammates.” But his mother, Jackie, will tell you that her son is more than about baseball. His foundation, AB for AUDS, provides computer tablets to children with autism and Down syndrome. Brady Columbus, a son of Bregman’s former hitting coach and Bregman’s godson, is autistic. Jackie Bregman says of her son’s kindness: “Alex is so patient with people, and I’m really, really proud of him for that.” She recalls her son defending elementary school classmates being bullied. And he was also on the other end: A boy made fun of Alex’s pending bar mitzvah as he was leaving school to meet with the cantor, and a Chinese-American teammate on Alex’s basketball squad stood up for him. The experiences, she says, “taught him what it was like to be marginalized.” Years ago, the family attended an appearance by several players of the minor league Albuquerque Isotopes. One player was aloof. “Sam and I said to Alex, ‘Don’t ever be like that,’ ” she recalls. But Jackie Bregman also knows her son is driven to excel on the field. “He would not mince words. ‘I don’t

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grandson a card set of Jewish baseball players. Bregman explains his early competitive drive. “Coach Birmingham said you have to decide,” he recalls. “I woke up at 5 a.m. to go to the cage to school to the cage: defense and hitting. I did that every day for years, [beginning at] probably age 12 or 13. I never went to the school dance.” “I know that the Jewish community around the country is so proud of him,” Jackie Bregman says. Referring to the card collection of Jewish players, she says, “I hope that one day he’s in that collection.”

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Father’s Day

Why it really bugs me when you misspell my name Sharon G. Forman

(Kveller via JTA)— Earlier this year, my son’s elementary school hosted its winter band and choral concert. While waiting for the fifth- and sixth- Sharon G. Forman grade musicians to finish tuning their instruments, I scanned the brightly colored program to find my son’s name misspelled. Instead of Ben Marx, he was now mistakenly dubbed “Ben Tharx.” After the concert, I reassured my chagrined son that “The Tharx” sounded like a superhero—possibly one who seeks justice for the downtrodden using his “tharxian” powers, whatever they might be (but likely involving a saxophone). I was empathetic to his irritation about the misprint. When I was growing up, my last name, Forman, was constantly misspelled with an additional vowel, suggesting that I might be related to a renowned boxer and grilling specialist. And although it might be exciting to be George Foreman’s relative, I trace my roots to a different family tree. (To this day, when I spell my name aloud, I automatically add, “No ‘e,’” as if warding off nuts offered to someone with food allergies.) A few days after tucking away the concert program into my son’s box of keepsakes, I received an unexpected package from my dad, Rabbi Lawrence Forman. At 82, my father seems to be on a mission to divest himself of worldly goods. Every time he comes to visit, he produces artifacts from the trunk of his car: photo albums, diplomas, books, and last time, a small statute of a Roman centurion. In his latest package, I discovered copies of passenger lists from steamships with names like The Patricia and The Lapland, which had transported my great-grandparents to this country. There were also

registration forms from the U.S Army draft during World War I, copies of pages from the 1920 census, applications for American citizenship and even a copy of my grandparents’ 1935 marriage license. Nearly 105 years ago to the day, my great-grandfather arrived in New York City from an Eastern European region known as Bessarabia. His town, then called Vadul-Rascov, or even Wodrashchkow, is now a part of Moldova, though it may have belonged to Russia at that moment in February 1913 when he landed on these shores. While other passengers’ nationalities were registered as Slovenian, Lithuanian, Polish or German, my relatives were labeled as “Hebrews.” After studying these documents, I realized that my great-grandfather, Nathan Forman—who lived as a boarder with a family in Portland, Oregon, for seven years before having enough money to bring his wife and two sons over to this country—did not start off as Nathan Forman without an “e.” Rather he was Nussen Fuhrmann—a 36-year-old man poor in money but rich in the letters “s” and “n.” By 1929, when he filed naturalization papers, he was calling himself Nathan Forman, which had morphed from the 1920 census report listing him as Nathan Furman. Did my great-grandfather care one bit about how his name looked in English? Probably not. He was a full-grown man when he came to the U.S. He was raised speaking and writing Yiddish, and probably had never written many letters in English. For weeks after receiving the package, I stared at his signature on a 1926 declaration of intention from the Naturalization Service. My great-grandfather was 49 at the time that he applied for permanent residency. Described officially as 5 feet, 8 inches tall, with brown hair and gray eyes, this humble man managed to save his family from almost certain death, as in 1941 the Jews of his homeland were murdered by fascists. I keep examining his signature, with the painstaking twirls of the upper and lower

Father’s Day

Forman’s grandfather’s signature: Nussen Fuhrmann.

case “n.” His capital “F” falls below a line, and the name Fuhrmann ascends with each successive letter. For him to leave his familiar life behind—to be apart from his young wife and two little boys for almost a decade, to start off fresh in a country without relatives, or a profession, or even a grasp of the language—his existence must have been pretty grim in Bessarabia. My dad told me that his grandmother—left on her own while her husband was in America— used to row the family across the Dniester River to escape from marauding bands of

raiders who would regularly antagonize the Jewish villagers. They would hide in the forest across the water until the raids had died down, then row back to their homes. Therefore, it was worth it for my great-grandfather to make his way to America, to start at zero. I think my great-grandfather, whom I never met, would have chuckled at the way Forman is frequently misspelled in English today. After all, we were “Hebrews”—and the name, using the Hebrew alphabet, was originally spelled Fey, Vav, Reish,

Mem and final Nun. I can imagine his bewilderment over my keeping the family name—with or without the “e” or “u” or extra “n”s— even after I married. It never occurred to me to change my name, especially as I married in my 30s. Nathan Forman changed his name enough for all of us. I think he would tell me to treasure this country, and to not let the door close behind us—rather to hold it open for the next guy who needs a safe harbor. It’s a big country. It’s a golden country. There is plenty of space for a family—and a name—to grow. Rabbi Sharon G. Forman, a Norfolk native, has published Honest Answers to Your Child’s Jewish Questions (URJ Press), a

Sharon Forman’s grandfather Abe Forman, with his younger brother, George.

chapter on the connection between Judaism and breastfeeding in Lisa Grushcow’s The Sacred Encounter (CCAR Press) and, most recently, The Baseball Haggadah: A Festival of Freedom and Springtime in 15 Innings. She has served as the director of education at New York City’s Temple Shaaray Tefila. Kveller is a thriving community of women and parents who convene online to share, celebrate and commiserate their experiences of raising kids through a Jewish lens. Visit Kveller.com.

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Father’s Day

A vine for the wine loving dad

unning out of gift ideas for the dad in your life? This year, a new gift option for wine-loving fathers is planting his very own grapevine. Like planting a tree in Israel, through Wine on the Vine (https://wineonthevine.org), it is possible to gift dad with his very own vine to be planted in a top Israeli winery. After the grapevine is planted, the majority of the donation goes to charities doing important work in Israel. And, when purchasing five vines, in four years, dad can get a small bottle of wine made from his grapevine. Various purchase levels are available. Some of the wineries Wine on the Vine works w ith include Carmel, Psagot, Tabor, Tulip, Yatir, Jezreel, and Gush Etzion, as well as other Israeli NGOs. C h a r it ie s include The Israel Innovation Fund, BINA, Darca Schools, Economic Empowerment for Women, Kolech, and others. The goal is to create a way for people to support and help build Israel’s wine industry in both a meaningful and enjoyable way. To learn about the wineries or the charities Wine on the Vine support, go to www. wineonthevine.org.

22 | Jewish News | Father’s Day | June 11, 2018 | jewishnewsva.org

How it works

• Choose

the number of vines to purchase, which winery to plant them in, and the charity to receive the benefit.

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vine is $18. All major U.S. credit cards are accepted.

• Dedicate the purchase in honor of a loved one or major life event, reflected in a digital certificate.

• All contributions are tax-deductible for U.S. tax-payers.