November 11, 2016 – Sarasota, FL

Like every year, Veteran’s Day falls on November 11, but this year was very different as the 2016 presidential election had just concluded on the eve of November 8, the remembrance of Kristallnacht, i.e., the official commencement of the Holocaust, in Germany in 1938. Steve and I, like many others, felt thrust into an unmentioned shiva or mourning period as we watched our country buy into the fake news and condone outlandish behaviors supported by the electorate. That Wednesday night we ventured to the beach to find some solace to make sure we were still of this Earth. We ran into a female goddess sandwoman. It offered hope.

As the week passed, we determined that we had little energy to celebrate Shabbat in our normal frolicky way.  Earlier in the day, our friends texted and asked us to join them at services. We decided that is exactly where we needed to be as it is the place you go to when in mourning. We went to pray, to find hope, comfort, and camaraderie, and to gorge ourselves with Oneg Shabbat treats; although this time we were void of an appetite. I have never lived through an election that I personally felt threatened due to the president-elect. The electoral college spoke, but the popular vote spoke too, just differently and less impactful.

There was a somber hush throughout the congregation that night. I couldn’t decide if it was because of the commemoration and acknowledgement of our Jewish veterans or if it was the general feeling of heartache after a death – perhaps a combination of both. My girlfriend shared a story with me: “Amy,” she said, “I am devastated; both of my boys voted for DT. They explained it was because of the allegiance to business.” She just shook her head and asked if we could change the subject. We did. I was actually speechless and felt non consoling. Even when my daughter, Erin, and I went to vote on that Tuesday morning, we felt intimidated by other the other voters in the line as most had their angry faces on at the polls, and we donned our joyful smiles and felt grateful of the privilege to vote. We could just tell we were in the minority at the Twin Lakes voting polls. It was eerie.

At services that night there was a physical moment of hope, and it came after the closing benediction. All of the veterans were asked to come to the bimah for a picture. As they were all uniformed older men, they all stood proud of their service for that posed picture. It was a different generation of men – respectful, kinder, braver, loyal, patriotic, stoic, grateful. And then after the click of the iPhone camera several times, the moment passed and the temple emptied into the social hall. Conversations were quieter. It was as if we had been hit in the guts and were bent over in pain. This Shabbat was suppose to honor those who had fallen and those who had served, but this Shabbat was the tipping point of the new tolerance of hate from our leadership in the United States – it was just unsettling.