SOUTHFIELD:

the Reconstructionist rab-
binical seminary, moved
from Boston to Mt. Airy.
In addition, offshoots of the
Chavura movement, like the
New Jewish Agenda, a polit-
ical group advocating liberal
social causes, are staples
within the community.
Crucial to the neighbor-
hood's stabilization is the
Germantown Jewish Centre,
often more politically active
than other Conservative
congregations.
During the Vietnam era,
actress/activist Jane Fonda
spoke there. When a con-
troversial AIDS shelter (to
soon move into the neigh-
borhood) couldn't find a
place to hold organizational
meetings, Rabbi Sanford
Hahn provided a room. The
rabbi even testified on
behalf of the shelter before
the Philadelphia City Coun-
cil.
When a synagogue
employee named Ralph
Granger died, the congrega-
tion held a funeral service at
the synagogue. A memorial
is held each year in his
memory. Mr. Granger was
black.
In addition, Germantown,
which first began in 1936, is
the site of an annual com-
munity-wide Martin Luther
King celebration.
"This congregation
reflects everything," Rabbi
Hahn said. "It is unusual.
Most congregations are more
monolithic.
"Everybody has an opinion
here," he said. "Members
get very passionate."
On the pulpit, Rabbi Hahn
addresses current events in
his consciousness—raising
sermons. He speaks about
AIDS, black-Jewish rela-
tions and the homeless.
Since the days of the late
Rabbi Elias Charry, the con-
gregation has always been
at the forefront of social
issues.
"We have no rules," Rabbi
Hahn said. "My task as
rabbi here is circus master.
What is fact is that most of

the success here came from
grass-roots work.
"You can't live in a society
without social issues," he
explained.
When whites began mov-
ing out of the neighborhood
in the 1960s, Rabbi Charry,
spiritual leader at German-
town for 40 years, united
with other religious leaders
to encourage whites to re-
main in the area.
They had no public grants,
no private funding — just a
few tireless clergy members
who went door-to-door, ask-
ing residents to stay.
Although other congrega-
tions fled, Germantown
made a conscious decision to
stay out of the suburbs. For a
while, it lost members —
plunging to just over 300
families from its heyday fig-
ures numbering close to 700.
Today membership is on the
rise, with about 500 units
(families, singles and even
20 Reconstructionist rabbis.)
In 1974, Rabbi Charry
again dared to be different,
allowing the first outside
minyan to meet in a room in
the synagogue. The minyans
were a hit, combining tradi-
tional observances with lib-
eral values. Women and men
lead the services, rejecting
services with organs, choirs
and clergy.
Many younger Jewish
residents said German-
town's alternative services
were a- major attraction to
Mt. Airy. This created a spot
for New Age Jews, who
chose to live in Mt. Airy for
its racial and religious di-
versity.
Mike Masch, 40, an
economist for the City of
Philadelphia, was one of the
first minyan goers at Ger-
mantown. He and his wife,
Rachel Falkove, who grew
up in Philadelphia, moved to
Mt. Airy in 1974 after they
finished school at Temple
University.
"It was urban. It had
charm — old houses and
trees," Mr. Masch said.
"Living in a segregated
neighborhood was not some-

AT _RISK?

thing we wanted to do. This
was a place where a lot of
people were involved in so-
cial action and politics.
There were a lot of Jews,
many of whom were totally
assimilated."
When they arrived in Mt.
Airy, Mr. Masch and Ms.
Falkove, both involved in
the Jewish student move-
ment during college, were
certain others shared simi-
lar religious interests. They
were right. They organized a
meeting in their living room
from which a minyan form-
ed. The minyan later moved
to the synagogue.
On any given Shabbat and
on holidays, Germantown is
still host to offshoot
minyamin, which are
separate from the services in
the main sanctuary.
At Germantown, member-
ship costs are substantially
lower than other area con-
gregations, and there is no
building fund. Sometimes,
Rabbi Hahn said, he doesn't
know how they make it.
"We operate on a deficit,"
he said. "We are always
behind the 8-ball. But there
is a strong commitment to
keep this going. This repre-
sents prophetic Judaism. It
is an important part of Jew-
ish life."
Mt. Airy is "a neighbor-
hood that seems like it
stopped in the 1960s, where
causes are big and every-
body votes," according to Al
Erlick, editor of the

"We thought about mov-
ing," said Rabbi David
Wortman, the executive di-
rector for the Jewish Com-
munity Relations Council
who lives in Mt. Airy. "But
we moved here for an ideal.
What does it say about an
ideal if we leave?"
"The jury is out on the
future, but that doesn't
mean we will just sit
around," said Mr. Masch,
the city economist. "That is
not how Mt. Airy happened
to become racially diverse
and it is not how Jewish
rebirth happened.
"People really believe in
it," he said. "People are the
ones who must decide they
want something and then
they must do it."
Dr. Berkowitz, a professor
emeritus of electrical engi-
neering at the University of
Pennsylvania, said the
success of Mt. Airy is not
permanent.
"You have to work at it.
This doesn't happen natural-
ly," he said. "It can erode
fast." ❑

Ernie Covington is
president of the
East Mt. Airy
Neighbors.

Philadelphia Jewish Expo-
nent. "If there were an elec-

tion 365 days a year, all Mt.
Airy residents would vote."
Today Mt. Airy has its
share of problems out of
reach for even the most
altruistic. Philadelphia is on
the verge of bankruptcy.
Taxes are exorbitant. City
services are not up to par.

THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS

27