Subject: Jews in Montana
> Absolutely Wonderful!
>
> >
>> By ERIC A. STERN
>> Published: December 4, 2009
>>
>> HELENA, Mont. - In Montana, a rabbi is an unusual sight. So when a
>> Hasidic one walked into the State Capitol last December, with his long
>> beard, black hat and long black coat, a police officer grabbed his
>> bomb-sniffing German shepherd and went to ask the exotic visitor a few
>> questions.
>>
>> Though there are few Jews in Montana today, there once were many. In the
>> late 19th century, there were thriving Jewish populations in the mining
>> towns, where Jews emigrated to work as butchers, clothiers, jewelers,
>> tailors and the like.
>>
>> The city of Butte had kosher markets, a Jewish mayor, a B'nai B'rith
>> lodge and three synagogues. Helena, the capital city, had Temple
>> Emanu-El, built in 1891 with a seating capacity of 500. The elegant
>> original facade still stands, but the building was sold and converted to
>> offices in the 1930s, when the congregation had dwindled to almost
>> nothing, the Jewish population having mostly assimilated or moved on to
>> bigger cities.
>>
>> There is a Jewish cemetery in Helena, too, with tombstones dating to
>> 1866. But more Jews are buried in Helena than currently live here.
>>
>> And yet, in a minor revival, Montana now has three rabbis, two in
>> Bozeman and one (appropriately) in Whitefish. They were all at the
>> Capitol on the first night of Hannukah last year to light a menorah in
>> the ornate Capitol rotunda, amid 100-year-old murals depicting Sacajawea
>> meeting Lewis and Clark, the Indians beating Custer, and the railway
>> being built. The security officer and the dog followed the rabbi into
>> the rotunda, to size him up.
>>
>> Hanukkah has a special significance in Montana these days. In Billings
>> in 1993, vandals broke windows in homes that were displaying menorahs.
>> In a response organized by local church leaders, more than 10,000 of the
>> city's residents and shopkeepers put make-shift menorahs in their own
>> windows, to protect the city's three dozen or so Jewish families. The
>> vandalism stopped.
>>
>> Lately, the only commotion about Hanukkah has been the annual haggling
>> among the rabbis over who gets to light the menorah at the Capitol. (It
>> has since been resolved - at this year's lighting, on Dec. 16, they will
>> each light a candle; in the future they will take turns going first.)
>>
>> Last year, the rabbinic debate resumed as the hour of lighting neared
>> and 20 or so Jewish Montanans filed into the Capitol.
>>
>> One woman could be heard reporting, excitedly, that a supermarket in
>> Great Falls would be carrying matzo next Passover; a guy from Missoula
>> was telling everyone that he had just gotten a shipment of pastrami from
>> Katz's Deli in New York.
>>
>> The menorah was lighted and Hebrew prayers chanted, while the officer
>> watched from a distance with his dog. He figured he would let it all go
>> down and then move in when the ceremony was done. The dog sat at
>> attention, watching the ceremony with a peculiar expression on its face,
>> a look of intense interest. When the ceremony was over, the officer
>> approached the Hasidic rabbi.
>>
>> "I'm Officer John Fosket of the Helena Police," he said. "This is Miky,
>> our security dog. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
>>
>> Miky, pronounced Mikey, is in a Diaspora of his own. He was born in an
>> animal shelter in Holland and shipped as a puppy to Israel, where he was
>> trained by the Israeli Defense Forces to sniff out explosives. Then one
>> day, Miky got a plane ticket to America. Rather than spend the standard
>> $20,000 on a bomb dog, the Helena Police Department had shopped around
>> and discovered that it could import a surplus bomb dog from the Israeli
>> forces for the price of the flight. So Miky came to his new home in
>> Helena, to join the police force.
>>
>> The problem, the officer explained, was that Miky had been trained
>> entirely in Hebrew.
>>
>> When Officer Fosket got Miky, he was handed a list of a dozen Hebrew
>> commands and expressions, like "Hi' sha' er" (stay!), Ch'pess (search!),
>> and "Kelev tov" (good doggy). He made flashcards and tried practicing
>> with Miky. But poor Miky didn't respond.
>>
>> Officer Fosket (who is not Jewish) suspected he wasn't pronouncing the
>> words properly. He tried a Hebrew instructional audio-book from the
>> local library, but no luck. The dog didn't always understand what he was
>> being ordered to do. Or maybe Miky was just using his owner's bad
>> pronunciation as an excuse to ignore him. Either way, the policeman
>> needed a rabbi.
>>
>> And now he had found one. They worked through a few pronunciations, and
>> the rabbi, Chaim Bruk, is now on call to work with Miky and his owner as
>> needed. Officer Fosket has since learned to pronounce the tricky Israeli
>> "ch" sound, and Miky has become a new star on the police force. The two
>> were even brought in by the Secret Service to work a recent presidential
>> visit.
>>
>> So all is well in the Jewish community here because the Hasidic rabbi is
>> helping the Montana cop speak Hebrew to his dog. It is good news all
>> around. The officer keeps the Capitol safe, and the Hebrew pooch is
>> feeling more at home hearing his native tongue.
>>
>> But the big winner is the rabbi, a recent arrival from Brooklyn who is
>> working hard (against tough odds) to bring his Lubavitch movement to
>> Montana. He has been scouring the state for anyone who can speak Hebrew,
>> and is elated to have found a German shepherd he can talk to.
>
Topic: Jews in Montana. Cute story. (Read 357 times)