The Silk Scarf
F
ebruary of 2007 is when this story
begins although you might say it
really began 60 years ago.
Our son, Nate, was performing stand up
comedy at a dinner sponsored by Hillel of
Metro Detroit. The
Congregation Beth
Shalom social hall
in Oak Park was full,
but not with Nate's
usual heavy smoking
20-something demo-
graphic. This was
more like a 50- to 80-
something Catskill
Resort demographic.
It was a polite crowd,
meaning there were
no hecklers. Nate
added some Jewish
shtick to his material
and got lots of good
laughs.
Afterwards, a woman approached me. She
was smiling, and there was a sparkle in her
eyes that belied her age.
"Is your name Fridson?" she asked.
"Yes, I replied. I am often asked about my
son, the comedian, and I have a routine of
my own prepared.
Instead, she caught me unawares. "Are you
the older or the younger one?"
The last person to ask me that question
was Israel Alprin. He was the principal at
United Hebrew Schools, Esther Berman
Branch when my younger brother Marty and
I attended. In those days, I had spent time in
his office cooling out after heckling matches
with my teachers. Too bad comedians can't
send hecklers to the office, eh Nate? It was
several years later, so I introduced myself.
"Are you the older or the younger one?" he
asked, hoping that I was the latter. Marty had
been an "all aleph" student.
"I'm the older one," I admitted.
"Hmmm," was Israel Alprin's only com-
ment.
Nevertheless, I replied to the woman at the
comedy show in the same way.
"I'm the older one:'
"I'm Barbara Schubiner," she said."When
your Uncle Shel got married, I was your
brother's babysitter.
I was at a loss for words. That was 1952.1
was 3 and Marty was almost 3 months old.
"Your mother and I were great friends:'
Barbara continued. "I met her when I began
working at Blue Cross on Griswold. She was
so glamorous! She invited me to have dinner
with your Aunt Elsie at Frame's restaurant
behind Hudson's. They made me feel like
one of the family. After we got married, we
saw less and less of each other, though. How
is Mariann?"
'Actually, my mom's not doing so well','
I explained. At the time, she was ill, and, in
fact, passed away not three months later.
"I'm sorry',' Barbara said. Her eyes were no
longer sparkling. "I have something at home
for you. When I'm gone, no one will know
what it is:'
I thanked her for introducing herself, and
The precious scarf
told the story to a few friends and relatives
after Mom's funeral.
That summer, Rabbi Wolpe asked me to
teach a Jewish drawing class in the Beth
Shalom adult education program. Imagine
me-a Hebrew school teacher! What would
Israel Alprin say? Probably,"Hnunm:'
September found me in front of a class
when the rabbi knocked on my door.
"Someone here to see you," he said.
It was Barbara Schubiner. She was smiling
again as I introduced her.
"I've brought you something" she said,
and produced an ancient silk scarf It was
deteriorating at the folds, but in the center
stood a couple of clowns that my mom
had painted. Around the border marched a
circus parade complete with elephants and
performing seals.
It was beautiful. At one seam, there was
a label that read "Made of Pure Silk by
Mariann"
"Your mother gave this to me 60 years ago,
Barbara said. "When I'm gone, no one will
know what it is:"
After a few moments, I found my voice. "I
knew my mom had painted silk scarves, but
I've never seen one."
I remember watching my mother paint
when I was little. She had a studio in the
attic of our home in Detroit. Once, she asked
me if I ever wanted to be an artist.
"I don't think so," I answered. "I want to be
a cowboy like Hopalong Cassidy"
"You wouldn't have to paint:' Mom sug-
gested,"you could use pen and ink:'
Pen and ink made me think of Koko, a
cartoon clown who was always disappearing
into the black void of an inkbottle. It was just
too scary.
"I'll just be a cowboy',' I said, sticking to
my guns.
"I don't think there are too many jobs for
cowboys these days',' Mom advised.
So, I didn't become a cowboy, and here I
am teaching a dass in pen and ink. How do
mothers know these things?
I hugged Barbara and thanked her again.
As she turned to leave, I noticed a sparkle in
her eye, or was it a tear? I carefully folded my
mother's beautiful silk scarf. ❑
Howard Fridson is a Huntington Woods resident.
Combating Economic Distress
E
very day for decades, people have
walked through the doors of our
Jewish social service agencies ask-
ing for help, telling heartbreaking stories
of their struggle to put food on their table,
get medical care they need, keep a roof over
their heads, find a job. Our agencies have
responded effectively and sometimes hero-
ically, providing high quality services that
have saved lives and enhanced the quality
of life of their clients, many if not most of
them entrapped in the morass of long-term
poverty.
Now there are new faces in the agencies'
waiting rooms — the "new poor," previously
successful, even prosperous people who lost
their job in the current economic downturn
and have been out of work for months or
even years. The prospect of losing their
homes, being unable to pay for health care,
or having to pull their children out of Jewish
day schools would have been inconceivable
to them not long ago. With their numbers
growing, our agencies are stretched to the
limit and beyond.
To help our agencies keep pace with their
growing client load, the Jewish Community
Relations Council has launched an
Economic Distress Initiative, a
structured program to sustain
and increase the flow of federal
dollars to our Jewish social
service agencies. Council's
capabilities and experience in
Israel advocacy and other issue
areas demonstrate that we can
effectively take the community's
lead in this effort.
We will work in coordina-
tion with the Jewish Federation
of Metropolitan Detroit, its
local agencies, United Jewish
Communities, and the Jewish
Council for Public Affairs as well as the
Michigan Jewish Conference, other Michigan
federations and other Jewish organiza-
tions such as HIAS, Hadassah and National
Council of Jewish Women. This Economic
Distress Initiative will include direct federal
lobbying, grassroots advocacy, media rela-
tions and working in coalition with the
African American, Hispanic, Chaldean and
other communities.
One of our first steps: Council
led a Jewish-Christian advocacy
fly-in to Washington on April
16 that focused on the concerns
of Metro Detroit's Jewish social
service agencies as well as Israel
advocacy. The delegation for this
one-day trip included three Detroit
African-American ministers, the
director of the Dove Institute in
Southfield and three Council repre-
sentatives.
In meetings with the offices
of U.S. Reps. John Dingell, John
Conyers, Joe Knollenberg and Carolyn
Cheeks Kilpatrick, we talked about the need
to increase Medicaid funding, preserve
food-stamp benefits and access, and provide
funding of innovative community aging-in-
place programs.
Also, Council President Todd Mendel
spoke to the Senate Democratic Steering
and Outreach Committee about a bill of
great interest to the Jewish Apartments and
Services. Senate Bill 2736 would change U.S.
Housing and Urban Development regula-
tions so that JAS could convert 30 vacant
studio apartments into one-bedrooms for
seniors on their waiting list. Twenty-five U.S.
senators attended the meeting, so it was a
rare opportunity to lobby face-to-face with
so many of them at one time on behalf of a
local agency concern.
Council's leadership and staff welcome the
challenge of the Economic Distress Initiative.
We also welcome hearing from community
members who would join a rapid response
team to send messages to elected officials
and the media when the need arises. ❑
Robert Cohen is executive director of the Jewish
Community Relations Council of Metropolitan
Detroit.
JIB
May 22 • 2008
A37