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6 | SEPTEMBER 26 • 2019

essay

Memories of High
Holidays Past
A

few weeks ago, I sat
at the annual pre-
High Holiday writers
meeting in the conference
room at the offices of
the Jewish News, trying
desperately to contribute to
the story ideas
being bantered
about for this
Rosh Hashanah
edition.
While my
esteemed
award-winning
colleagues were
coming up
with intellectual, thought-
provoking topics, I can’
t
express the angst I was feeling
trying to come up with
something worthy of putting
in the High Holidays issue
that wouldn’
t get me written
out of the Book of Life. Then
again, most columns I write
put me at risk.
I’
ve gotten a whole new
level of joy from the High
Holidays as a father than I
did as a kid. I mean, nothing
compares to sitting in shul
and looking down the aisle
at my wife, and now adult
children, and reflecting
on how lucky I am. Made
even more rewarding if I
had secured a great getaway
parking space.
Speaking of getaways …
while I was the furthest thing
from a troublemaker as a little
boy, there was something
about attending High Holiday
services at Adat Shalom more
than 50 years ago on Curtis in
Detroit that brought out the

mischievousness
in me.
Unlike today’
s
more evolved and
engaging children’
s
services, back
then, the kids’

services were held
in cramped, hot,
chaotic classrooms while our
parents were sequestered in
what was then considered
forbidden Days of Awe
territory for children (insert
echo) … The Main Sanctuary!
Those in charge of us kids
had to feel like they were
herding cats — or Katz — if
you prefer.
The only time things
settled down in those sessions
was when we were forewarned
that we were about to be
visited by (insert echo) … the
rabbi!
In my day, that was the
distinguished and beloved
Rabbi Jacob Segal, who served
the congregation for 30
years, until illness cut short
his tenure. Perhaps you can
relate to this, but back in the
day, at least to me, the rabbis
seemed, forgive me, a little
scarier, and I say that as a
term of endearment.
To this impressionable and
chronically nervous youngster,
the rabbi represented the
epitome of authority and
when he arrived at our High
Holiday children service, it
seemed, in the eyes of this
child, as serious as when
Moses descended Mt. Sinai.
And, remember, Moses wasn’
t
happy when he (sing) came

around the mountain when he
came. The rabbi approached
in breathtaking fashion, much
like the dinosaur in Jurassic
Park, each step leaving a
ripple effect in its wake. He
added a little extra “awe” in
the Days of Awe.
I plotted and broke out
of children services on a few
occasions, usually walking to
a store on Livernois where I
was first introduced to those
tiny little wax Coke-looking
bottles that had juice in them.
You’
d drink the juice and
then chew on the wax. Yep, I
was a High Holiday escaped
convict. A real renegade.
Then there’
s the time — I
couldn’
t have been more than
10 years old — when I snuck
out of the children’
s Rosh
Hashanah service and decided
to surprise my parents by
being a big boy and walking
by myself to Grandma Helen
and Grandpa Sam’
s house
a few miles away for the
post-service meal. The only
problem was, the meal was
being served at Grandma
Molly and Grandpa Isadore’
s
house.
My version of Home
Alone ended when one of
my brothers assigned to the
search team found me an

hour later perched patiently
on the wrong grandparents’

stoop. You know you’
re
getting old when you use the
word stoop in a sentence. By
the way, I was not afforded
the overjoyed welcome from
my parents that Macaulay
Culkin received when he was
found.
Meanwhile, my High
(Anxiety) Holiday nerves
would revisit me years later
when, as an “adult,” I was
given the honor of lifting the
Torah for all the congregation
to see. Of course, it being a
new year, we’
re talking about
a Torah that was weighted
completely to one side. Drop
it and the entire congregation
would have to fast.
What do we learn from
this? If you’
re going to drop
a Torah, drop it on Yom
Kippur. You’
re already fasting.
And that suggestion may have
just sealed my Yom Kippur
fate.
L’
Shanah tovah tikatevu.

Alan Muskovitz is a writer, voice-
over/acting talent, speaker,
and emcee. Visit his website
at laughwithbigal.com,“Like” Al
on Facebook and reach him at
amuskovitz@renmedia.us.

Alan
Muskovitz
Contributing
Writer