arts&life PHOTO BY ANNA KOHN PHOTO BY BLAIR NOSAN music Phab Phreddy A DJ like no other joins the lineup for the JCC’s inaugural Ethan & Gretchen Davidson Music Festival. ELIZABETH APPLEBAUM SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: DJ Phreddy spins with Menachem Mendel Pinson. DJ Phreddy. Nefesh Mountain. 44 March 16 • 2017 E ileen Laxer was a middle- class New Yorker con- vinced she was marrying into elite society when she wed Henry Wischusen, a nice guy from Boston. Wischusen was indeed a WASP, but not of the Vanderbilt, Du Pont or Rockefeller variety, though his father, also named Henry Wischusen (but with a III at the end), came with his own prestige. Wischusen III had discovered a brilliant new way to bond thin cardboard boxes and became the celebrated “King of Gluing Popcorn Boxes.” One of the King’s factories was in Eutaw, which took up all of 12 square miles in Alabama. Henry and Eileen moved there so Henry could supervise the plant, staying until it was sold. The couple moved to Lilburn, just outside Atlanta and down the corner from Stone Mountain, the famous high-relief sculpture jn (the largest in the world) depict- ing Confederate heroes Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson. Here, their son, Henry F. Wischusen III (bearing the exact name as his grandfather, “num- ber and all, and no, it doesn’t make sense,” says the second Henry III, who came to be called Fred) grew up. Fred was “not the typical kid” in Lilburn, he says. He was chubby, his family had no history anywhere in the South and there was something else, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint and wouldn’t learn the truth of until he was 17: Fred was Jewish. Today, Fred is Phreddy Wischusen — a storyteller (he won Detroit’s Grand Slam in 2013 and the city’s Moth Story Slam numerous times), comedian and musician. He’s also known as DJ Phreddy and will appear at the JCC’s Ethan & Gretchen Davidson Music Festival, to be held at the Berman Center for the Performing Arts March 23-26 (see sidebar for a complete schedule). “Phreddy is a wonderful addition, not only to the music festival but also our planning team,” says Elaine (Hendriks) Smith, director of the Berman. “He worked with us to make this event one with a real festival atmosphere, and I’m delighted that he’ll be performing twice, each time with a different sound that complements that evening’s performers. We are very happy that he is part of this new, excit- ing music festival.” Being a little kid in the Deep South in the 1980s was a lot of what you probably imagine: schools were basically segregat- ed, there were lots of small towns where “you were either on your street or in your house” because sidewalks didn’t exist, and people were friendly, Fred/Phreddy says. In the 10th grade, Fred had an experience that stayed with him. A football team with a more diverse student population came to play his school. Fred’s white classmates responded by cover- ing their bodies with drawings of Confederate flags and swastikas. Fred felt alienated and confused, he says, and it was soon after that he learned he was Jewish. His mother had never told him because she’d been afraid. Fred wondered: “What does it even mean to be Jewish?” Fred attended Florida State University, where he fell in love with music: Weird Al Yankovic, Pearl Jam, grunge rock and show tunes, “the schmaltzier the better.” He loved it all so much he “decided to learn to play an instrument so I could connect to music better.” He took guitar les- sons, and at 30 he joined a band. Then he discovered David Bowie,