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Evening of Chizuk this Thursday in Chicago
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Category Archives: Chicago
cRc Kosher App now available for iPhone and iPad for free
Davka Corporation just developed and released the Chicago Rabbinical Council Kosher app.
The information presently includes their lists for kosher Slurpees, Beverages and Liquor as well as our guide for checking fruits and vegetables and a list of over 80 cRc approved hechsherim (with contact info).
In today’s world when it seems that some things, like scotch and bourbon can go from accecptable to no-recommended overnight, this is a great way to stay informed.
It’s really user friendly, easy to read, and well designed.
Check it out here.
The cRc’s website can be accessed by clicking here.
The (moving) Sign of the Times
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| Photo taken by me |
I usually steer away from writing things that express my opinions, especially regarding the community I live in (which I happen to like). However, yesterday was the last day of business for Rosenblum’s World of Judaica, which is moving out of my neighborhood to the suburb of Skokie, just about a 15 minute drive from me.
I understand why they are moving, due to the cultural change in our neighborhood’s main drag, Devon Ave.
Rosenblum’s was sort of the last great anchor on the street (which does boast a fish market, two all-kosher grocery stores, a bakery, a number of shuls, a certified Dunkin Donuts/Baskin-Robbins, and several shomer Shabbos businesses).
As I walked around the block from where I live to Rosenblum’s yesterday afternoon, I was sad. Back in the day, well between 1998-2006, when we would come up from Indianapolis to visit friends, buy fresh meat, and occasionally eat out, Devon was different. There was, at the time, also another seforim store, a pizza joint (we still have several in the greater Chicago area), another fish market, a sit down Chinese restaurant and more importantly, there was a feeling of a “Jewish” neighborhood. For me, the main attraction was Rosenblums. I love walking through the aisles and seeing both the newer seforim and older “one copy left” type books. They have an extensive music section, gifts, kiddush cups, menorahs, kids items, etc. They sell siddurim, chumashin, machzorim, etc to many instituions aross the country. My father a”h was the one who arranged for his congregation in Wichita, Kansas to get their Artscroll sidduim and Stone chumashim from Rosenblum’s. Each member of their staff, even yesterday when they were swamped, makes you feel you are their only customer.
In addition, they serve the greater community, meaning not just the Orthodox. Many non-Orthodox customers came in to buy items and many gentiles, too. Many a Sunday I would walk to their store, around the corner from me, and as I was looking for a Pirkei Avos or a shopping for seforim from the “school list” for my kids, I’d hear Mr. Fox giving a tour and having an intense question and answer session with groups of non-Jews or high school or college comparative religion students. The store itself was/is a reminder that that we are, as clichéd as it sounds, a “people of the Book”.
We, as a family, pretty much split our shopping between Rosenblum’s and the other store in town (just a mile north), in hopes of supporting both Jewish businesses. However, the convience of having a store so close to home is something that I will lament. While it’s a loss that most people in my own neighborhood will probably feels bad about, I doubt that most will not talk about it until a store moves into their old location that doesn’t serve our Jewish community. Then they will say, “I wish Rosenblum’s had stayed.”
The good news it that their new store will be bigger, have free parking, is only about 15 minutes from me, and is more accessable for those in the suburbs. Another plus, is that it seems a new pizza/itialian restaurant will be opening right next door to them before the end of 2010.
Rosenblum’s World of Judaica plans to be opened the first week of Novmember at 9153 Gross Point Road,
Skokie, IL 60077. There phone number remains the same, (773) 262-1700, although I’m not sure how they were able to keep the same area code and phone number, even though they moved out of Chicago.
While the saying, “the more things change, the more they stay the same” certainly doesn’t apply for Devon Ave in Chicago, I can only hope that other stores in the area don’t close or move.
Upon the first yartzeit of my dad a"h
Sunday, the 16th of Cheshvon, is the first yartzeit for my father a”h, Avraham ben Zorach, Albert Lyon Harris. A few weeks ago my family and I were in Wichita, Kansas for the weekend to join my brother, mother, step-mother, aunts and uncles for the “unveiling” of the matzeiva (grave marker) for my father a”h. It was bittersweet (much like my father’s favorite type of chocolate). The comfort and feeling of togetherness was accompanied our collective memory of the last time we were all “together”.
A close family friend who brought in briskets, deli, and breads from Kansas City and thanks to fairly well stocked local grocery store, my wife came up with an awesome menu and fed the entire family (and a few friends) for both Shabbos dinner and lunch. Even my father, who spent decades in the food industry as a restaurateur, would have been beyond impressed with the amount of food my wife made in such a short amount of time and with very limited cookware.
That Sunday, we gathered together at the Hebrew Cemetary, were my father and others had always made sure was in tip-top shape. I found myself wearing the same suit and the same shoes that I had worn 11 and a half months and surrounded by many of the same people, as well. My remarkes said over at the cemetary are below:
There really is no good way to start speaking for a lifecycle event like this. All I can really think about is that the yartzeit, anniversary of the death of my father, a”h is taking place in exactly two weeks and again here we are again, here I am again, seeing so many people that really cared so much about him.
Marking a grave is a very old Jewish tradition, starting with after Rachel died, when “Jacob erected a monument on Rachel’s grave” (Genesis 35:20).
In fact the word for stone, ev’en, is a contraction of two Hebrew words, Av, meaning father, and Ben, meaning son. A gravestone serves as a connection between generations, between parents and children. It is a physical reminder of a life lived, of the love shared, and the memories made. As a whole, the eleven months and two weeks have gone by quickly, as individual days, each day without my father has been very long for all of us. At this time I would like to thanks all of you who have been there this past year for my mother and Dixie.
It was once observed (by Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe, a dean of yeshiva students in Jerusalem) that a train and a plane can both reach their destinations. Difference is that train stays on the ground as it proceedes, and a plane not only proceeds in the right direction, but ascends in the air at an optimum altitude and then reaches its destination sooner. In life, as well, there are two means of advancement. The first is progressing–but progressing only along the ground, which many people attempt to do at one point or another in their lives. The second kind of advancement involves lifting oneself up and above this earth- giving one the opportunity to travel faster and reach our destination quicker, but also to soar above the impediments of even mountain-sized obstacles.
My father’s life was very much like that of a plane. He traveled though his life and let no obstacles get in his way. He lived a life that made him happy and did many of the things that he dreamt of doing. He also reached is own final destination, although, much quicker than any of us wanted him to.
We all have good days and bad days, when we are faced with challenages and struggles. Personally, in the past 11 months, there have been many times when getting though the day hasn’t been easy, but it’s important for us all to follow the path that my father took and continue on the journey and soar above everything that stands in our way.
Additional posts about my father a”h can be read here.
I ask that you please wanted to take a minute and in this coming
week you attempt to do one extra chessed, act of kindness, for someone.
The effect can last a lifetime.
A local favorite
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| (Photo from here) |
Growing up, I thought it was normal to have a 44 foot tall sculpture of an Indian warrior in your city. Above is the structure known to all as the Keeper of the Plains, located in Wichita, Kansas at the point where the Little Arkansas (pronounced in Kansas as Ar-kansas) and the Big Arkansas rivers merge. During a short visit to Wichita last week I stopped by to see the Keeper. It’s still there, standing tall. A symbol of the greatness of Native American culture that existed long before Kansas was even a state. Oops, I almost got policital for a second, sorry.
The scupture was designed by a Native American artist named Blackbear Bosin and it happens to be a local landmark. It also happens to a bit on the unusual side, I admit. It just stands there, being proud and facing the point where the two rivers meet. My parents took me there several times when I as younger. It was always a destination when relatives came to visit. It’s name defines it, it symbolically stands guard over the land, keeping it safe and allowing residents to use the plains as they see fit. To plant, grow, build, to make the plains their home. Hmm… I think I’m waxing lyrical a bit too much.
Really, it’s only cool if you’re from Wichita, because it’s local. Like the local sports team that everyone follows. Like the local bands in any given music scene that only you have heard of. Like the local Rav that does more outreach in a week than most people do in a year. Like the local restaurant that makes that one item that you can’t get anywhere on either coast. Like the local one guy in shul who seems to know all the answers in every halacha shiur. Like the local short-cut that will get you home faster than the main streets.
It’s all of those little things that make us feel comfortable when we are “home”. Having that bond of “common knowledge” can bring people closer together.
We are all, in some ways, locals. However, we are also just visiting.
When the needle hits E
Monday morning my car wouldn’t start. I know, great way to start my week, right?
There was power in the battery, but the engine just wouldn’t turn over and rev. I called my good friends at AAA and they said that they would be out “as soon as possible”. In the meantime, a friend of mine came by to see if all I needed was a jump. The jump didn’t really do a thing.
After what seemed like forever, a nice new AAA flatbed tow truck pulled up onto my street in Chicago. I had been dreading this, because my thinking was that it was going to be the transmission, alternator, or starter…all fairly top dollar repairs. The driver asked for my keys and got into my vehicle to attempt to start it. After getting the same results that I got, he looked at the gas guage and asked it there was gas in the tank, since the needle was on E. I knew my car had two gallons of gas in it when I parked it. The AAA guy suggested that because my car was parked at the curb on a big slant, it might have been tilted just enough that the fuel pump wasn’t able to to actually pump gas into the engine. AAA had a gallon of gas on them, so they poured it into my tank and, Baruch Hashem, the car started.
This whole episode got me thinking about my Avodash Hashem. A person can have all of the right kavanah, the right seforim, daven every day, learn at set times during the day, fullfull many mitzvos both Bein Adam l’Makom and Bein Adam l”Chavero and still feel that they are not going anywhere. Why? Because just like my car, if everything isn’t balanced the right way, then you don’t get the proper fuel into your engine. This is why we need close friends and a Rabbi, or two, to give us the insight and information that we just don’t have. Sometimes, AAA can also help.
Stopping in the name of love
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| Picture from here |
On the second day of Sukkos, I stopped saying Kaddish for my father a”h. It was odd. That’s really the only way to describe it. After months of saying Kaddish after Kaddish after Kaddish, it just stopped. As I sat in shul between mincha and maariv I couldn’t help but think about the passage in Halachic Man, when the Rav describes his father view about the sunset at Ni’elah on Yom Kippur and the halachic change that takes place. I was moving from being one who is “saying Kaddish” to one who is listening to someone else say Kaddish.
It is a noticable phase of aveilus, sort of that the end of this year is almost over. Today I davened in a Chol Hamoed minyan organized by the day school that two out of three of our uber-kids attend and there was no one in the minyan saying Kaddish. I felt a little sad that no one got the opportunity to answer Amen to another’s Kaddish.
Another interesting aveilus-related thing is that I am not going around in a circle during Hoshanos. As an avel, I am to stay away from any outward simcha, such as the hakafos that we do during Hoshanos. Missing all of the awesome Simchas Bais HaShoeva events around Chicago is also pretty bunk. Simchas Torah is also something that I’ve sort of been dreading for the past number of months, since I cannot dance. I can walk around once per hakafah, but that’s it. I enjoy dancing, especially with my 5th grade son, but this year I will mostly be a spectator. This will allow me to learn a bit more than usual (a good thing), but it’s bitter-sweet. Following Halacha and the answer that I received when I asked a shilah regarding this topic is a challenge. Not because I am looking to question “authority”, but I know how much of an effect dancing can have on my own body and I appreciate being able to do something that is so physical l’shem mitzvah.
I suppose that I am fortunate to be able to consicously know that I’m exercising my own bechira (free will) by following Halacha. That, in and of itself, is pretty cool.
Now I almost feel like a Chicagoian
Ok, after almost 4.5 years I think I’ve begun to feel like a Chicagoian. From my days as an NCSYer, learning in E”Y, YU, and then working professionally for NCSY I’ve always been friendly with people from Chicago. Having a core group of families that we were close here was a major draw to our choice to move here. That being said, many people from Chicago who move to the East Coast have an almost hypnotic tranced induced manta that “Chicago is the best city”. I use to just shrug them off and smile.
I won’t even touch the inyanim involved in the machloches, but I will say that reading some of the comments regarding this post at Beyond BT, I am very proud to live in Chicago. I still call soda “soda”, I only refer to Skokie “Yeshev’vah” as HTC, I have figured out what “kitty corner” is, and I know what a “gapers delay” is.
Base on the above linked post I’d like to offer a few local links that might be helpful to people. These are in no particular order whatsoever.
Chicago Rabbinical Council’s Guide to Chicago
Chicago Chessed Fund (which also includes Job Link and Simcha Link)
Chicago Center for Torah and Chessed (they run a multitude of chessed programs and minyanim daily)
Yeshiva Migdal Torah
JET (Jewish Educational Team)
CTN (Chicago Torah Network)
TLC (Torah Learning Center of Northbrook)
YU Torah Mitzion Kollel
Chicago Community Kollel
Skokie Community Kollel
Lubavitch Chabad of Illnois
Associated Talmud Torahs of Chicago
Walder Educational Pavilion of Torah Umesorah
Bernard Horwich JCC
Jewish United Fund/Jewish Federation of Metro Chicago
Jewish Child and Family Services
SHALVA (helping domestic violence victims )
Jewish Vocational Service
Midwest NCSY
What to show your kids…when you live in Wichita, KS
My parents use to love taking my brother and I for day-trips on Sundays, when we were in elementary school. Mostly these ended up in small towns in Kansas, towns with one grocery store, one gas station, and only one place to eat. A few times during these Sunday drive we would end up about 80 miles Southwest of our home in Wichita, Kansas at a place called the Gypsum Hills (or the Red Hills).
For a little kid it was cool. We’d ride in the car “forever” and then get out and run around, climb hills and collect pieces of gypsum. Good times!
What I realized when I was much older was that my parents weren’t just coming up with crazy day-trips to keeps up from watching TV all Sunday. They were attempting to expose us to different scenery from the typical flat-lands of Wichita. It’s the same reason that we went to “young peoples” symphony concerts, art museums, and hung out all week at Riverfest (there are plenty of life lessons to be in watching a bath tub boat race). It wasn’t just exposure to culture, but a desire to give us a broader picture of what life had to offer. My mother, who grew up in Dallas, TX, and my father a”h, who grew up in a small town in Western Pennsylvania wanted to give us an appreciation for the arts and nature. My brother, as a result, became very attached to nature, while I ended up spending many afternoons at that MoMA.
The underlying theme of these Sunday trips and countless schlepping to various locations was that giving us a view of the “bigger picture” was a good thing. Today, as a parent of a daughter who is almost 4, a daughter who is a 3rd grader, and a son who is a 5th grader, I see the importance of this. Letting my kids see the bigger picture is key. It helps to give them a frame of reference (and reverence). That’s why I try to point out when someone does a Chessed (kindness) for someone else or when I see an older man or woman davening with real kavanah (concentration), a person who gets new eye glasses l’Kavod Shabbos Kodesh, or an individual who has daily challenges and still remains postive. Those are things that I value. I’m not anti “the arts” nor am I against showing my kids the beauty of Hashem’s world, we do those things, too (mostly as age-appropriately as I can).
I think most parents want the best for their own children and attempt to give them/expose them to ideas and values that are dear to them. As I get really to start a New Year, I hope that what I show my children (via my own behavior) things that can have a positve impact on them.
"Oh, yeah!"
As I write this, there are a few tears in my eyes. I guess this the the postive side of a flashback. Since my father a”h has been niftar I’ve become a fan of sugar-free grape drink mixes. One of the many things that I didn’t find out about my father until after his death, was that he loved sugar-free Kool Aid. In fact, I just made a cup.As I kid I remember making it at home, but my mom wasn’t a big fan due to the potential of massive stains on carpet and clothing. Since finding out my dad liked it and trying it myself when I was sitting in Wichita, KS, I’ve been buying it. My dad made it “by the pitcher”. I’m more into the single serving packets of either the Target or Walmart brands. Both are pretty good and you can also get the “white grape” which still gives you a pretty good grape taste, but if you drip it on your shirt it doesn’t really leave a stain.
So why am I misty-eyed? I made my bracha on my drink and took a sip. As I was drinking it I began to think about the fact that on some level my father a”h probably got some zchar for drinking this kosher item. My father a”h, wasn’t observant. He was raised fairly traditional, reguarly attended services on Shabbos and was always available to help with a minyan. My flashback, in this case, is all of the times he drank and ate kosher while visting me.
The lesson is in this, if anyone is actually reading this post, is that despite differences, friction, arguements, theological discussions, stereotypes, etc. that one may have to deal with with relatives who might be of “lesser observance”, the silver lining might be a shared bag of pretzels or a beer. Other times it might be you actually learning a thing or two, like the fact that sugar-free Kool Aid is pretty tasty.
