Adios Edson Arantes do Nascimento

 

Farewell to Pele, who died yesterday. All arguments regarding GOATs (Messi is better than Ronaldo is better than Zlatan or Lewandowski) are irrelevant here as there can be only one, and it is Pele. Here is an obituary in the Guardian.

I took this photo in August 1987 at Wembley before the Football League XI game vs the Rest of the World (when Maradona came out of the tunnel waving his "Hand of God" at the crowd!). It got me into a bit of trouble as I had fibbed I was unwell so I wouldn't have to go to a batmitzvah party after synagogue because I had a pass to photograph this match. 

Before the game started, there was a crowd in the centre circle of the pitch. I couldn't see what was going on, but needed to get a shot for my boss, and I was too short to see over the other photographers, so I crawled between their legs and stood up in the front. I found myself in front of a tv camera which was recording an interview with Pele, and was immediately shoved back down to the ground. However, this was not before my face appeared live onscreen, and my lie was thus discovered.

But I got the shot. And an autograph. RIP dear GOAT.

I Do Love A Nice Dill Pickle

It had sounded interesting when it was released but, since it never made it to Modena, I soon forgot about this film. Then L & I were looking for something to watch together one Shabbat afternoon, and up it popped!

L had loved "The Frisco Kid", so I thought we should try "An American Pickle"! (no spoilers!) An Orthodox Jew who emigrates to New York in the early 20th century accidentally falls into a pickle barrel and is preserved for 100 years. Upon awakening, he has to deal with the modern world.

What can I say? This movie is clearly a child of Woody Allen, in the days when it was ok to love his work because nobody knew. I can't tell you how many times I watched "Sleeper", in which a different type of stereotypical Jew is frozen for 200 years and wakes up to deal with the future. However, it has its own identity, and I laughed, I cried, and I loved it. Bravo Seth Rogen!

Proud of You, VCM!

I am a couple of weeks behind in my Only Connect viewing, so I only saw this ep this evening. The connection between these clues is that they are all part of the Passover Seder. The contestants guessed the clues were things that were all considered responsible for causing aggressive behaviour. 

?????

Anyway, am proud of Ms Coren Mitchell. Not because this clue was on her show (and as a script consultant presumably she has some say in the content), but because she referred to the bitter herbs as maror in a natural way that suggests she knows her onions. Brava!

Acetaia Piglet

Piglet recently made their first visit to an acetaia in Modena, and learned all about the process. Here you see them guarding the oldest barrel.

Here Piglet looks proudly at the final product. With thanks to Acetaia Gambigliani Zoccoli!

Resisting the Yetser Ra

 

We are in the Hebrew month of Elul, and looking back at our actions over the past year in order to identify what needs teshuvah (restitution, if possible, and apologies) and healing. We want to repair our world and take better care of it, and ourselves.

L & I decided last week that we need to stop buying chocolate at the supermarket. The supermarket decided last week to import probably my all-time favourite UK chocolate confection:  Maltesers!

I am glad to say that, after picking up a packet, showing it to my friends and explaining how delicious they are, I was able to put it back and walk away. However, I may now need to change supermarkets.

Wishing everyone the strength to overcome their temptations, and when they slip up, to forgive themselves and then have another go!

Spotlight on Teatre Grec Piglet

Looking through some old pics I found this one of Piglet in Barcelona in 2015 when we visited the Teatre Grec amphitheatre. In fact, it's not very old. It was built in 1929 for the Barcelona International Exposition. It fell out of use for a while but these days it is the focal point of the summer GREC Festival. The place was completely empty on the crisp December day we visited. Piglet was thus able to be the focal point of the photo!

Vale Raymond Briggs

The books of Raymond Briggs, who died yesterday at the age of 88, have always taken pride of place on the bookshelves of my home. Although most obituaries will probably identify him first and foremost as the author of "The Snowman", my heart was captured by "Fungus the Bogeyman". Thus it was that I dragged my 6-year-old sibling to the Puffin Exhibition, to stand in a queue to say hello to Mr Briggs and get my copy signed.

Somehow, the books that followed really expressed my youthful perspective on the world, particularly during the Cold War when there seemed to be a real prospect of nuclear disaster. "Where the Wind Blows" was utterly depressing and terrifying, but made total sense:

and his drawings for "The Tin-Pot Foreign General and the Old Iron Woman", about the Falklands War, had large and powerful illustrations, including possibly the most pornographic depiction of Margaret Thatcher I've ever seen!

The work of Raymond Briggs has always been part of my life, and I hope always will be. I am grateful for his talent, and sorry for his passing. May he rest in peace. 

NB The Times notes that:

"He never had children and showed no sign of even liking them. When he was considered for the role of children's laureate he turned it down and left the job to Quentin Blake. "I wouldn't touch it with a bargepole," he said. "I don't want to go to schools and give talks on children's books. I don't actually know anything much about children. I try to avoid them whenever possible."

Guardian obit.

BBC obit.

The Times obit.

Tributes from the Independent.

 

Summer Joy

Just found this happy happy photo taken on holiday in Cornwall with friends a few years ago and wanted to share the joy. Hoping you may find something to smile about today!

Hopelessly Devoted to Dame Olivia

 

This news makes me really sad. As always, this is not a person I've ever met, but her music has been a part of my life for nearly 50 years. Dame Olivia Newton-John has died of cancer at the age of 73. Her voice and songs will continue to soothe my soul, but those who knew and loved her have lost their dear one. I am sad for them. I am sad she died relatively young. I am sad she won't sing any new songs. And I am grateful for the joy she has given me. May she rest in peace.

Her life in pictures from the Guardian.

Guardian obit. & here.

BBC obit.

Daily Mail report (cribbed from Chloe Lattanzi's Insta)

More from the Mail!

Link to the Olivia Newton-John Cancer Wellness and Research Centre.

San Siro Piglet

Although we weren't able to attend an actual football match, there is still something to be said for visiting an iconic stadium. The Stadio Giuseppe Meazza is the biggest stadium in Italy, and home to both Milan teams. I don't really have a preference, although in the era of the great Dutch footballers that played for A.C. Milan (Gullit, Rijkaard & Van Basten) I was definitely more red than blue. And now they have Zlatan, my (not-so) secret love. So ...

Anyway, it was a thrill to get to see the San Siro in its concrete flesh, and thanks to Ire for driving me there and Piglet for posing.

The Summer of '61

From May to the beginning of July there are quite a few anniversaries in my family. Here is the last before the summer break - 61 years ago this couple posed on Upper Berkeley Street after their chuppah at West London Synagogue. They look a bit tentative here, but I can promise that they will have over 40 years together to figure things out. Remembering with love the wedding anniversary of Evelyn & Albert.

18 Years to the Day

Eighteen years seems like a long time, almost a generation. That's how long ago and far away my lovely father died. And yet he is often present in my life. His essence may be evoked in myriad ways, e.g., memories, Piglet, old friends, particular places, QPR, certain movies, music, and photographs.

Here's the thing, and it's happened a couple of times now. Sometimes he pops up in photos unexpectedly. For example the shot above we saw first in the Shoah museum in Washington DC. It is a Jewish Schools Sports Day c. 1937, in Berlin. We looked at it briefly as we walked by, and then my mother exclaimed, IT'S ALBERT! Bottom right-hand corner with the glasses. That's him.

Today I was once again looking at images from the 3rd march from Selma to Montgomery in 1965. I've shared previously some shots that vindicated my father's claim that he was close enough to MLK to have a chat and share a snack. This time I had a look at some video footage I found online.

Would you believe it, there he was again! Blink and you will miss him, but near the end (just below the YouTube arrow in the screen grab above), pale and bespectacled, his face appears briefly right behind Dr King.

I'm not ascribing any great meaning to this. But I do find it comforting to see him giving me a little wave now and then.

The loss is not so acute after 18 years, but he is still profoundly missed. On a quotidian level, just being able ask questions or to share things I've done, or to get a hug; and in terms of life, the universe, etc., to hear his thoughts on all that's going on in the world these days.

Meanwhile, I was able to visit the graves of both my parents last week. L & I said kaddish, and spent some peaceful time there amid the stones and the roses.

HaRav Uri ben Alexander Ziskind v'Sara Dina, zichrono livracha.

[If you cannot click the video, you can copy & paste this link:  https://youtu.be/fgywPx6Cv-g ]

18 Years Ago ...

Eighteen years ago was the final Father's Day with my father still alive. Of course we didn't know that then. Although he may have.

Eighteen years is quite a long time, but it still pinches each time the algorithms try to sell me on this day.

Meanwhile, the pic above shows AHF in the city he said he loved the most. And the pic below shares an unsung achievement of his, becoming a Knight of Mark Twain. 

Always deeply loved and missed.

Happy Birthday Auntie Dorrit!

Sometimes I get Auntie Dorrit's age wrong. As a woman of a certain age, she didn't like people to know exactly what that was, even going as far as editing her brother's draft of his autobiography to change her date of birth. However old she would have been today, I'm thinking of her, and continue to miss her. In honour of her anniversary, and to stand alongside the other pics of graduation I'm seeing at the moment, here she is in the Vicksburg media of that era!

Addio Bruce Kent

Dear Bruce is gone. A good friend of my father's, both gentle of nature but fierce in their desire to heal our world. In this pic he had kindly offered to pose for my first portfolio. The little white dot on the edge of his cardi is a CND badge. We are poorer without him. My condolences to his beloved Valerie.

Guardian obit

 

Farewell Roger Angell

You may not be a baseball fan, but if you are a fan of a team in any sport, and/or enjoy writing that is more than just a simple description of who won and how, then Roger Angell was and is someone to read. 

The BBC report of Angell's death quotes from a 1982 interview in which he said:

"I think the real fans are the fans of terrible teams, because they know what good baseball is and they know how far their own players fall short ... The rallying cry that has always struck me as so poignant and beautiful is, 'Come on, you bum!' which means, 'We know you're no good but we want to win.'"

My one true love is, of course, QPR. But I have followed my Yankees for many decades, and have in inkling (enough to translate, for example, 'you bum' into 'you w@nker'). I have greatly enjoyed Angell's work, and wish him eternal peace.

An overview from Wikipedia

A kind of obit over on ESPN

In Memoriam from the New Yorker

World Bee Day

It is World Bee Day today. Why is there a World Bee Day? Because people do not seem to understand the vital role bees and other pollinators play in the survival of the human species. And if we do not act to save these creatures, we will soon see far-reaching results.

Learn more about our pollinators and how we may help them!

6 Surprising Things about Bees by CNN

7 Simple Things You Can Do To Help (also via CNN)

BUILD A BEE BATH! On any windowsill or balcony place a small bowl of water with something in it upon which a bee might land, e.g., pebbles, marbles etc. They can drink and also bring a drop home with them!

NB 20th May was chosen because it was the day that Anton Jansa, a pioneer of modern apiculture, was born!

Frying Tonight!

It is nearly midnight here in Modena, halfway through the month of May. The current temperature is 29 C/85 F. In the middle of the night. In May.

Sigh. Soon it will be Lag B'Omer, the 33rd day of the counting of the Omer that takes us from Pesach to Shavuot, from redemption to revelation. L & I discussed what we might do to celebrate this day. It is customary to make bonfires, and L suggested a barbecue. To which I replied that the barbecue has already begun, pointing to the redness of my body in this heat. 

I am frying tonight. Hence the above clip from my favourite Carry On film (Screaming). Stay frosty y'all!

95 Years Ago Today

95 years ago today, my father and his brother were born. Apparently my grandmother had no idea she was having twins, so after the first boy was born, she got out of bed for coffee and a cigarette. The midwife was almost out the door when Mutti called for her once more!

They lived good lives, and were greatly loved. They are missed by so many people. My only regret is that Lior & Albert never got to meet in person. But I know how happy he is that I got to meet her!

May their memories continue to be for a blessing.

Sadness and Good Memories

As I write, many of my classmates are at Temple Emanu-El in New York City, receiving their honorary doctorates for 25 years of service to the Jewish people. This is actually the 26th year since the above photo was taken. We had an online ceremony last year, but with the return to in-person gatherings, we were offered the opportunity to join this year's honourees.

I have written elsewhere about the celebrations. I would like to note that at our online Kaddish minyan this morning, whilst I was delighted to be congratulated by my minyan mates, I also had the honour of leading Kaddish for our service.

In the photograph, in the back row, with the white hair and beard, you see Rabbi Ariel Walsh. In the front row, second from the right, you see Rabbi Suri Friedman. The two of them were present last year at our Zoom ceremony, but they have both died since then. In the front row on the far right you also see Rabbi Joel Braude. He died in 2014.

As we celebrate our contributions, and hope that we have the chance to continue, we remember our classmates. And so we said Kaddish for them at the minyan today. May our memories of them continue to bless us.

Chag Pesach Sameach & Happy Easter!

Our flourless chocolate cake, matzah balls and Ashkenazi charoset are ready, and we are about to head out for the Or 'Ammim Seder, which will be in person this year. Wherever you are and whatever you are doing or not doing, let's hope that this detox experience will give us what we need to go back to the work of healing our world.

This year our festivals coincide, so best wishes to all who are observing and celebrating at this time of spiritual purification.

A&L

Mothering Sunday

 

Ok, so I do know that Mothering Sunday was originally the day when a religious Xian was supposed to go back to their "mother" church; and I read that an American started a memorial service for her mum in 1907, but that has no connection with the UK version. It probably developed from the old religious tradition, and as fewer people did the church thing, maybe it morphed into the celebration we have today.

Before my mother died, it would be a day when I treated her to the lunch of her choice (which varied between a local Chinese dive, Côte or the Wolseley). Now it is a day to think fondly about her (I'd eat Chinese in her honour, but haven't yet found a decent local place here).

These photos are of Evelyn doing something she loved to do. In them she is near Potsdam with her friend Eckerhard, z"l, visiting Eric Mendelsohn's Einstein Turm. Travel, architecture, a dear friend - a lovely day for her, and a lovely memory for me. 

Many Happy Returns of the Day Sir Vivian

Just wanted to wish a happy birthday to one of the greatest cricketers I have ever seen live, Sir Isaac Vivian Alexander Richards, who turned 70 yesterday. You may read about his life here.

England are currently being battered in the first Test at the Sir Vivian Richards Stadium in Antigua. Sadly, at 127 for 5 as I write, it's no surprise. To cheer myself up I will (once again!) add my favourite photo I got of the maestro, an incredibly rare moment in his career as he is clean bowled at Lords, by Derek Pringle I think.

A Prayer for the Ukraine and its People

 

PRAYER FOR UKRAINE

Eternal One, Rock of our Existence, the Source and Sustainer of Life, as President Putin wages war on Ukraine, and the forces of autocracy wreak havoc, and attempt to instil terror and fear in every heart, we call on You to give strength to the people of Ukraine. Help them to muster the courage and the fortitude to withstand the onslaught. Let them also be strengthened by the knowledge that democratic nations across the world stand in solidarity with them, and will do everything necessary to support their efforts to resist the imposition of tyranny.

Meanwhile, as we, like ordinary people everywhere, witness the horror, and feel helpless and hopeless in the face of overwhelming events beyond our control, may You enable us to understand that we are not powerless to help. Our deeds, however small, matter. And above all, knowing that despair is the dearest friend of tyrants, we have the obligation to hope,  and to demonstrate our constant fidelity to the enduring values of peace and freedom, equality and justice. May this be our will.

 

And let us say: Amen.

Rabbi Elli Tikvah Sarah

February 2022 / Adar I 5782

 

PREGHIERA PER L'UCRAINA

 

Eterno, Roccia della nostra Esistenza, Fonte e Sostenitore della Vita, mentre il Presidente Putin muove guerra all'Ucraina, e le forze dell'autocrazia scatenano il caos, e tentano di instillare il terrore e la paura in ogni cuore, Ti chiediamo di dare forza al popolo dell'Ucraina. Aiutalo a trovare il coraggio e la forza di resistere all'assalto. Fa' che siano anche rafforzati dalla consapevolezza che le nazioni democratiche di tutto il mondo sono solidali con loro e faranno tutto il necessario per sostenere i loro sforzi per resistere all'imposizione della tirannia.

 

Nel frattempo, mentre noi, come la gente comune ovunque, siamo testimoni dell'orrore e ci sentiamo impotenti e senza speranza di fronte a eventi schiaccianti che sfuggono al nostro controllo, possa Tu permetterci di capire che non siamo impotenti ad aiutare. Le nostre azioni, per quanto piccole, contano. E soprattutto, sapendo che la disperazione è la più cara amica dei tiranni, abbiamo l'obbligo di sperare, e di dimostrare la nostra costante fedeltà ai valori duraturi di pace e libertà, uguaglianza e giustizia.

 

Che questa sia la nostra volontà. 

E diciamo: Amen.

 

Rabbi Elli Tikvah Sarah

Rabbina Emerita, Brighton & Hove Progressive Synagogue 

February 2022 / Adar I 5782

I Will Really Miss Jan Pienkowski (RIP)

How much do I love the work of Jan Pienkowski? Let us just say that when the sad news of his death reached me, and I decided to write something, I didn't have to look up how to spell his name.

One of the boons of having a sibling one decade younger was getting to read another generation of books for younger readers. And when my sibling received a copy of Haunted House by Jan Pienkowski, they loved it so much they wouldn't let anyone else play with the pop-up parts. So I had to get my own copy.

Pienkowski changed what was possible with paper engineering (& I particularly appreciated that the backs of the moving parts were painted rather than only the clearly visible parts as in most pop-up books I'd experienced previously). Haunted House is one of my favourite books, and I still enjoy moving the parts, and noting the UFO coming closer and closer until the alien bursts into the book at the end!

And let's not forget Meg & Mog (not to be confused with Judith Kerr's Mog, another great literary cat). I love the drawings. And when the sibling was about 5, we took them to the Unicorn Theatre to see the stage version with Maureen Lipman as Meg. Although, I remember that the adults seemed to be much more involved than the children they were treating - we were all shouting, panto style, "behind you!", whilst the kids were rooting around in the bottom of their popcorn buckets.

So glad to have still these beautiful books to enjoy. Sad that the genius that created them has left us. As the obits say, he found a way to take the terrible monsters from his childhood and turn them into harmless toys. My condolences to his partner, his family and friends, and all who will miss him.

the Times obit

The world of Jan Pienkowski in pictures from the Guardian

the Guardian obit

 

What Rabbis Used to Do

In this screenshot from an online version of a video of a copy of an old TV recording of a football match played in 1986 on a dark damp night in West London, goalkeeper Eddie Niedzwiecki holds onto a shot from QPR's Robbie James.

Behind the goal, between 1986 and the G of the ad hoarding, there is a frizzy-haired photographer who, if you watch the moving version of this video, is applauding (rather than photographing). I added an arrow in case my description isn't clear enough.

Sorry this isn't the moment of either of the winning goals being scored but by extra-time it was so damp and dark that I could no longer take a decent photo and so I decamped to the shelter of the tunnel by the dugout. What a night, though! #RTID

We Love Lily!

Amici, one of my colleagues just shared with us a quote by Lily Montagu regarding the wearing of a kippah/yarmulke that I just had to pass on to you all:

"The custom of wearing a hat or not wearing a hat must be left to the choice of the individual. He must be impressed with the belief that the thoughts which prevail under the hat can lead him to God, not the hat itself."

[p 47, In Memory of Lily Montagu by E Conrad, Amsterdam 1967]

San Valentino Whatever

Note to self:  when leaving sweet chocolatey treats for one's beloved to find first thing in the morning, perhaps it's not so smart to hang them on the stove near the hob upon which said beloved will be brewing a morning cup of coffee.

Meanwhile, in this morning's English language class we learned that Saint Valentine, who may or may not have existed, apart from being the patron saint of lovers, is also the mentor of people with epilepsy and beekeepers.

Earthquake Virgin No More

 

A couple of hours ago something a bit weird happened - I felt as if someone had pushed me in the back like they were trying to get past my chair. The cat ran away, but L noted that our lights that hang down from the roof were utterly still. Thus I was left to consider whether or not ghosts might actually be real, and annoyed at me for some reason.

An hour later, whilst L was out at a meeting, and I was blithely watching some Big Bang Theory, the sofa the cushions the lamp the floor the cat everything moved sideways for a few seconds; and then the messages started arriving. It was an earthquake. As was the first.

According to Corriere della Sera, "a series of earthquakes has been striking Emilia Romagna since Wednesday evening, with the epicentre between the provinces of Reggio and Modena. There has been a lot of fright and people have taken to the streets, but for the moment the Civil Protection has not reported any damage. According to the Ingv data, the first tremor was of magnitude 4.0, at a depth of 7 km, and was recorded a few minutes before 8 pm. A second tremor was felt an hour later. The INGV estimates the magnitude of the latter event at 4.3, which is more violent than the previous one."

Unlike my sisters, I have never lived in California (though I was visiting Los Angeles in 1994 but left on maybe the last plane out, utterly unaware of what would happen a couple of hours later). So this was a little scary. I have plenty of memories of feeling the Piccadilly Line thundering beneath Kent House, and the trembling of the living-room floor. But this was my first 'quake in person, and whatever I may have imagined, I was incorrect. Although our ancient palazzo has clearly gone through this for several hundred years (pu pu pu), I have not, and am still shaking a bit. The important things are: L is fine, I am fine, Sara the Cat is shaken and won't come out from under the bed for more than a few seconds but she is fine. And as far as we know so are all our friends here and hopefully everyone else. 

Bees in Conversation

Found this old bee pic and wondered what they might be saying to each other. This was my thought - but maybe you think otherwise ...?

Shades of Grey

What a vain thing is my ego!  This is a screenshot from the Bologna ceremony marking Holocaust Memorial Day at which a group from Or 'Ammim was present. It's a screenshot at the end of a brief report on local TV last week. Front and right you can see our Gabriello and, with her back to the camera, the rav aj. And my first thought upon seeing this was, omg, my hair is sooooo grey!

I think today is the day I finally have to accept that my hair is not dark with some grey, but grey with some dark. Yes of course I can dye it again, but that's not the point.

 

Sheila D Hill MBE 1928-2022

News has just reached me of the death of Sheila Hill. A tweet from the Marylebone Cricket Club announced that:

"MCC is deeply saddened to hear of the passing of Sheila Hill, MBE. 

Sheila helped shape the Laws of Cricket and was instrumental in the training of umpires around the world.

Her contribution to cricket cannot be overestimated, and our condolences go to her family and friends."

In the world beyond cricket, for me and countless others, Miss Hill was our teacher at SPGS. I was in her Maths division for 5 years. 

I am grateful to her for two things in particular.  Firstly, that although I did not feel I was good enough to be in Div 1, she never doubted that it was where I belonged. Secondly, and I'm not sure how to explain this, Miss Hill had a certain aura. My form in particular had a bit of a rep for being naughty. However, in Miss Hill's presence you behaved. It never even crossed your mind to do otherwise. She never raised her voice, she never expressed frustration or any negative emotion. She was calm and correct, and we did maths. And once in a while there was even a twinkle in her eye. But we knew nothing about her life outside the classroom, not even the cricket. 

Throughout my years of being a teacher, Miss Hill has been a model for me. How a teacher can hold the attention of a class like a swan, serene on the surface, doing all the work out of sight. She clearly loved her subject, and wanted us to find it enjoyable rather than onerous (I still remember how to make a hexiflexagon!). May she rest in peace.

NB  Some of her cricket statistics may be found here. And a tribute from Middlesex Cricket may be found here.

It's All Relative - Da Vinci Code Piglet

Yesterday I somehow found myself back on Flickr, browsing through 124 old photos of mine that still sit in a gallery waiting for attention. This photo of Piglet in the courtyard at the Louvre, so tiny against the lamp-post, yet as tall as I M Pei's pyramid, helps to remind me that sometimes it is all about perspective.

Wishing you all a safe & healthy week!

So, Farewell Meatloaf

 

Most famous for his best-selling album "Bat Out of Hell", singer Meatloaf's death was announced today. His style of music was not one I thought I liked. But each time I hear his song "Paradise by the Dashboard Light", I am instantly transported back 40 years ago to a journey from Zichron Yaakov to Eilat for a long weekend, 5 of us squashed in a tiny car with no A/C, and only one tape to play. Young and stupid and broke, we slept on the beach (until the rats arrived c. 4 am, followed soon after by the police to move us on), and on someone's porch. We enjoyed the sun and the sea and the World Cup football on tv. The trip concluded in the lobby of a fancy hotel where, with our last shekels combined, we ordered one milkshake and 5 straws. Driving back, hungry and sunburnt and still squashed in the back seat, I can still hear so very clearly the words from the car stereo: "I'm praying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you." 

It took us a while to recover from that holiday! As I sit here now, listening to a Meatloaf mix on Spotify, this memory, filtered by time, comes back sweetly. I smile as I remember my friends and the fun we had together. And I notice that Meatloaf had a great voice. May he rest in peace.

Dr King's Message Still Speaks to Us Today

Found this cool photo last night. The chap with the blue X on the left is my father. And I think the one on the far right with a blue Y on his pocket may be Rev. Andrew Young. It was taken on 21st March 1965 during the Civil Rights demonstration that marched from Selma to Montgomery in Alabama.

In the USA tomorrow it will be Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I grew up with stories of the Civil Rights movement and the importance of working together for justice and peace. However, the events of the last few years had greatly dented my hope that such things are still achievable.

Yesterday was not a great day. Just before going to bed here in Europe, news started coming in of a hostage situation in a Reform synagogue near Dallas. A rabbi and 3 congregants were being held by an unknown person who had walked into a Shabbat morning service. I am glad to say that, after several hours of negotiation, and then the intervention of a FBI Rescue team, all hostages were released without physical harm. The gunman was shot down, and we will certainly discover more of the story in days to come.

What strikes me tonight is how people responded, at least in the world that I inhabit. With the assistance of the internet, connections for support and information were quickly made, helping those of us anxiously waiting for news. The moment that had the greatest impact for me, however, was the swift organisation of an online place of meeting, where we could be together, make havdalah together, and share space and emotions during a time of such tension. What struck me most was the outpouring of love and support from those of other faith traditions and none. This dreadful event brought us together, and we were able to give each other strength and hope.

It is still possible, for this is not an old dream of the 1960's. I saw something of it yesterday. Dr King told us:

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."*

Today is Tu BiShvat, the New Year of the Trees, when from the depths of winter here in Europe, we look towards Spring and the return of leaves and flowers and plants and fruit. Today we planted parsley seeds, hoping to eat their leaves at our Passover Seder. Last night, at the vigil I attended, and in many others across the land, seeds were also planted, seeds of hope. In order to grow and bear fruit, all these seeds need to be cared for, fed and watered, protected from the cold and given a place in the sun. This is our task for the new year.

Baruch Atah, Adonai, Matir asurim.

Blessed are You, Adonai, who frees the captive.

* from a sermon at the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery AL (25.12.1957)

Blast From the Past

The other day there was a discussion on the Retro R's page about the QPR Youth team at the end of the 1980's. In particular, there was a competition called the Southern Junior Floodlight Cup, which was won by the R's c. 1988. In my early days as an official QPR photographer, I got to cover the 2nd leg of the final. Some of the lads from back then are part of the FB group, and as photos were being shared, one of them dropped this on the page:

Gobsmacked is a good word. I've never seen this photo before. It's from one of the players, and it looks like the team is heading back to the dressing-room after the photoshoot. Is that an injured reserve hobbling in their wake? I had completely forgotten that I was still in plaster then and had to take all the pics with the wrong hand. Thank you SL for this lovely memory!