VOLIF

1

What's it like
to be a strange
face in Detroit's
Jewish
community?

Zachery von Gonten

moved to Farmington

Hills from Wisconsin.

The 24-year-old

mortgage broker doesn't

expect his social life to

blossom overnight.

"Right now," he says,

48

"work comes first."

e NOVI,

eet Zachery von Gonten. The 24-year-old
mortgage broker isn't green to being the
new guy.
Mr. von Gonten has moved five times
in his life, twice during the past two years.
Last November, he packed up his black
Jeep Grand Cherokee and drove from
Madison, Wis., to metro Detroit, site un-
seen. His new address: Farmington Hills.
"I came for the job," he says. "I really
hadn't heard anything about metro De-
troit, except that the city was a dump."
As southeastern Michigan enters its
fifth year of economic recovery, out-of-
staters like Mr. von Gonten are moving
here with new career prospects. Unem-
ployment declined from 7.1 percent in No-
vember 1990 to 3.8 percent in November
1994.
But new jobs and new beginnings don't
guarantee happiness in new environs.
Newcomers still face the threat of not
finding their way around; not meeting
nice people, not fitting in. And there's al-
ways the ominous chance of never clicking with
some peculiar Michigan traditions:
Wrap-around lefthand turns,
Pop (not soda),
Couch (not sofa),
Faygo,
bumpy cake,
Vernor's (still a Michigan tradition, though
the company has moved out West),
Maize and blue,
Green and white,

Devil's Night,
East siders,
West siders,
Eight Mile Road,
And a downtown that seems to close when
the sun goes down.
"It's frightening to come to a new community,"
says Gail Budin, who moved to West Bloomfield
from Delaware about four years ago.
Ms. Budin leads a committee called "Shalom De-
troit" with her co-chair Joan Chernoff-Epstein, a
native of the area. The committee, sponsored by
the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Detroit's
Women's Division, functions as a welcome wagon,
offering programs and information for those new
to town.
"The Jewish community here feels closed until
you get inside and find out how much people re-
ally do want to include you," says Karen Gordon,
director of Federation's Business and Profession-
al Women, part of the Women's Division.
At her office in the Max M. Fisher Building in
Bloomfield Hills, Ms. Gordon each week receives
names of three to five newcomers, and the num-
bers are increasing. She says more and more fam-
ilies and young adults are moving into town. Many
of the recent collecre graduates and other profes-
sionals have landed jobs with Ford Motor Com-
pany. Most are relocating to West Bloomfield and
Farmington Hills, though some are settling in Novi
and Northville.
Shalom Detroit obtains names of newcomers
through several sources. Some come from realtors
who want to connect clients with the Jewish com-
munity. Many come from groups outside of Fed-
eration, like National Council of Jewish
Women and ORT. Still others come from
friends, temples, synagogues and Jew-
ish Information Service (JIS), a com-
munity hotline.
Ms. Gordon holds up a stack of faxes
with names of newcomers.
"I always joke that JIS must have our
number on speed dial," she says. "Every
time I turn around, I have another fax
about another newcomer. There are so
many people coming to town."
It doesn't surprise Ms. Gordon.
"We're a familial community," she says
"and I think we have so much to offer."

M

r. von Gonten studied English
and philosophy at Drake Uni-
versity in Iowa. He plays a
mean game of tennis, avoids
meat-market bars, loves French absur-