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