I don’t want to pat myself on the back too hard. After all, one must always keep their ego in check. But in my many years as a reporter, I’ve written about a lot of topics: murders, suicides, interfaith relations, immigration, neighborhoods, education, politics, spirituality, discrimination, sexual abuse, you name it. I once even covered a dog fashion show, believe it or not, in Hampstead. (A docile, doe-eyed beagle named Penny emerged the victor, if memory serves correct).

But never – and I mean never – in all of my professional years have I received an avalanche of responses from readers about an article like I have about my recent story on what I call the “mystery building” on S. Caroline Street in East Baltimore. I can’t tell you how many calls, letters and emails I’ve received on this matter—all for an article that I almost didn’t write because, frankly, I thought a lot of people would consider it a bit irrelevant, silly and provincial.

How did it all begin? Well, about a year ago, I was driving through East Baltimore, on my way to Fells Point or someplace like that, when I noticed an old, church-looking building. I love old architecture and wondered to myself if this abandoned building—padlocked and surrounded by weeds and broken glass in a not-so-safe section of town—might have once been a shul. I noticed the cornerstone, and sure enough, there was a Hebrew inscription etched into it, with the year “1925.”

But then I looked up, and I saw an insignia at the top of the building with a Star of David and with what appeared to be a dollar sign in the middle of it.

Dollar sign?! Huh? It blew my mind. Why would a dollar sign be in the middle of a Star of David? (Anti-Semitism? A Jewish bank? A Hebrew loan society?) Then, I parked, got out of my car and took a closer look at the cornerstone. There was a Psalm in Hebrew written on it, but also a reference to the Gospel of Matthew. You don’t have to be a crack reporter to know something was very different about this building. (And not too kosher.)

So I decided to go to my trusted sources on this one – Gilbert Sandler, whom I call the Bard of Jewish Baltimore, and Dr. Deborah R. Weiner, research historian and family history coordinator at the Jewish Museum of Maryland. To my amazement, I stumped these two Jewish Baltimore experts, something that doesn’t happen too often. Deb’s hunch was that the building used to belong to Hebrew-Christians, or Messianic Jews, who reached out to the Jews of East Baltimore in the first part of the 20th century.

But I wanted more information, especially about that vexing dollar-sign Mogen David. So I decided to open the field and write an article about it, seeing if anyone in the community had any answers, recollections or insights. And to my amazement and delight, I’ve been flooded with interest. One older gentleman even told me that the article was the main topic of conversation at a recent gathering for senior citizens at Beth El Congregation, and I know of other recent situations in the community where it’s been widely discussed.

I’m not going to tell you yet what I’ve come to learn about this building. With the help of many people, I believed I’ve pieced it all together – for the most part – and plan to write a follow-up article in the Jewish Times (I don’t want to scoop myself).

But I will tell you one thing I’ve learned in this process.

There’s a feeling out there that in our society today, people don’t care about history. “It’s old news” – that’s the conventional wisdom. We practically don’t teach history in our schools. I’m astounded by how little history is taught in my children’s public school. As a result, most kids (and subsequently adults) think it’s boring and irrelevant. It has no meaning in their lives (unless it’s taught with the rapid-fire special effects and uber-concise narratives of the History Channel).

But this article has proven to me that besides the fact that people love a good mystery, they also have an unquenchable thirst for history, whether it be Jewish history or Baltimore history or whatever. The future may be a mystery, but so is the past in many respects. And for the most part, analyzing history is the only way that we can get an inkling of what’s ahead. We need to know history to know who we are.

I almost didn’t write this article because I figured no one would care. Instead, I found that there’s a burning interest for this type of historical exploration and remembrance. That’s something Gil Sandler’s been telling me for years.

We shouldn’t lose sight of this in an age of historical illiteracy. The ramifications could be perilous.

(By the way, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that if she were still with us, Penny the beagle would agree.)