When I was a kid, I remember our high school class taking a bus trip to a place called Olney. We were going to see Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer’s Night Dream” at the Olney Theatre.
I remember how beautiful the ride was on then rural Rte. 108.
I knew a little bit about these Howard County and Montgomery County roads because my aunt and uncle lived in a place called Darnestown. My mom and dad used to love to take back roads and stop at every antique store they could find on the way to Aunt Irma’s house.
I haven’t been back that often along Rte. 108 that often. Rtes. 95 or 29 seem to get me wherever I’m going faster. My aunt and uncle have since passed away.
Anyway, there were certainly enough stories on the Internet covering the horrific display of hate that was spray painted on the walls and sidewalks of Olney’s B’nai Shalom. I had to see it for myself.
When interviewing shul president Debbie Kovalsky in the main sanctuary, I think both of us had this eerie feeling that a presence of evil found this precious shul.
The community, and I mean community. Jews, non-Jews, people of many cultures, nationalities and colors, worked the day before to scrub away the swastikas and the words.
So, I know this is a bad example, but here goes. When Senator Ben Cardin was a Congressman, he’d have to run for re-election every two years. And almost never did he have anyone of consequence to worry about threatening his seat. Yet, Mr. Cardin ran for re-election as if he was in the race of his life. He took even the most inexperienced opponent seriously. I think that here we have Olney’s B’nai Shalom in the middle of a gorgeous suburban town. It seems like the least likely place where hate would exhibit itself in all its spray painted horror.
Yet it did.
What it means is that even Olney can’t be complacent. It has to work even harder to maintain that image of a place where anyone can safely live.
What happens now and in the coming weeks and months is everything. That folks of many different walks of life came together is a wonderful sign.
We cannot take our freedoms for granted. We cannot take it for granted that small town America in a picturesque part of Montgomery County is immune from our worst fears.
B’nai Shalom’s president had a look on her face that I cannot even attempt to describe with words. It was shock, horror, sadness, disappointment and so many other things combined in one expression. The cowards who did this knew that there was further symbolism in defacing a shul in an otherwise quiet suburb.
We have to “get” that too.
B’nai Shalom must heal.
We have to help it heal.
And we can never, let our guard down, anywhere or any place.

There always seems to be a reason, an excuse.
A young man, Steven Pitcairn, is walking to his Charles Village home from the train station when two thugs took his money and cell phone and then robbed him of his life.
Because the cell phone was on as he was talking to his mother, she apparently heard what was happening.
This was a man whose educational and career track was leading him to a life of self discovery and helping others.
The suspects in his murder are Lavelva Merritt and John Alexander Wagner, whose life transcripts are filled with court records, crime, and probation violations.
In the past couple of weeks, I’ve interviewed Patricia C. Jessamy, for 15 years the City’s State’s Attorney. And I’ve interviewed Gregg Bernstein, a former assistant U.S. Attorney, considered Ms. Jessamy’s toughest opponent in years.
I have a question for both of them. And maybe I’m in error in this question.
Where were they?
Why weren’t they in Charles Village earlier this week tracing the final steps of Mr. Pitcairn?
Mrs. Jessamy, why is it that there is always a reason that these bad guys are out on the street? Why? Maybe Mr. Bernstein’s campaign points questioning your record have more merit to them than just election rhetoric.
In our articles, we asked the question if a white candidate could defeat an entrenched black incumbent like Mrs. Jessamy?
So here we go, and I know the answers that come back my way just like I know a wave at the ocean will break a certain way and the under tow will pull in a different direction.
What about black on black crime?
Why is Mr. Pitcairn’s death to be given more weight than a black victim?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Because maybe it takes the focus off the real issue. That issue being that two failures were on the street and killed a man, a promising young man.
This wasn’t in gang controlled places around the city. This was Charles Village. This is where my daughter would go read poetry while she was in college. This is where friends live and where I would take long walks to when our office was located on 21st Street and Charles.
Stop telling me this could happen anywhere.
Help me and others who want so desperately to believe in Baltimore that you Mrs. Jessamy and you Mr. Bernstein will do something to keep scum like this off of the streets of Baltimore.
Don’t waste my time if it’s about getting elected or re-elected. Tell me what you are going to do. Give me and the citizens of Baltimore City, where I’ve lived most of my life answers.
Why wasn’t strength delivered in the sentencing and incarceration of these two whatever they are?
You know I can’t help but think of the following scenario. At the end of the movie “Schindler’s List,” there is a quote discussing how many numbers of Jews and generations were born because of the numbers saved by Oskar Schindler.
I look at this information about Mr. Pitcairn, and I wonder would he have had children and grandchildren and descendants. What would he have contributed to our society that we so surely need.
Instead, we get excuses. It’s never anyone’s fault, is it?
If it’s not the cop, it’s the state’s attorney. If it’s not the state’s attorney, it’s the judge.
I am charging both of you,  Ms. Jessamy and Mr. Bernstein, if you care so much, then get out on the streets of Charles Village right now. Knock on doors and tell the people who are spending tax dollars in your city that you will protect them.
Because right now, I’m guessing that belief level in what you do isn’t very high.
At a dinner for Shalom USA radio last night, an attorney came up to me and asked me if the Jewish Times is endorsing for office. He was particularly interested in State’s Attorney and is a friend of Mr. Bernstein.
I want to see candidates out there when the going is bad and raw and hurtful.
I want to see them do something. I want them to give us reason to consider any endorsements.
In the memory of Mr. Pitcairn, I demand that you state’s attorney candidates, both incumbent and challenger, do more, much, much more.
Because what is happening now.
It’s unacceptable.

From August 8-13, Baltimore’s JCC will host a combination JCC ArtsFest and JCC Maccabi Games.
This will be the first time that both the Maccabi Games and ArtsFest will be held at the same location during the same time period.
Baltimore was the original site of the first JCC ArtsFest.
There is a reason for all of us this.
It’s called simply leadership. The JCCA or Jewish Community Centers Association took a chance on Baltimore, because it knew that Baltimore’s JCC creates successful programs and is a model for the rest of the nation.
The Baltimore JCC community and Associated leadership know how to make a program, even a new one, work beautifully.
Staff members such as Nancy Goldberg, Phil Miller, Dale Busch and of course the best JCC leader in the business, Buddy Sapolsky, take on these efforts, knowing that they will present challenges, and move events such as these to a higher level.
The last time Baltimore hosted an ArtsFest, visual arts artist-in-residence, Jay Wolf Schlossberg-Cohen would get in the middle of the hundreds of participants and yell loud enough for us all to hear, “It’s a great day to be a Jew.”
I cannot wait to hear Jay’s voice scream that out again.
This is the type of energy that would start our day and move us through this beautiful week.
Stay posted at Jewish Times and jewishtimes.com for upcoming reports and for the reporting of the week itself, done almost exclusively by the kids.
We cannot wait.
This is one of the great parts about being a member of one of this nation’s best Jewish communities.
We’re going to have many guests from around the nation and world visit Baltimore for the Games and ArtsFest.
It’s going to be a signature time for us all.
Before it gets going, I want to give a shout out to Nancy Goldberg.
All of us involved with this event know that she is the backbone, heart and soul.
We’re counting the days down now.

Tisha B’Av begins Monday at sundown.
I’m already worried.
This is one of those days to take seriously. I worry about what is happening in the planning of evil of the enemies of the Jewish people.
I think like you do of personal friends and the challenges they are having with their lives or loved ones.
Like you, I think of Gilad Shalit and Israel and its very real enemies such as Iran.
Mostly, I worry about us.
We still come to Tisha B’Av with the very issues of anger, loshan hora, bickering and disunity among ourselves.
There are really wonderful efforts out there in Baltimore’s Jewish community to bring us all together. The merging of Rambam and B’nos is a wonderful community action. The rolling out of Hatzalah’s ambulance service is again a triumph of the spirit and soul. The upcoming JCC Maccabi Games and JCC ArtsFest is a celebration of the youth of our community. New shuls, new rabbinic leadership, families making aliyah. These are all wonderful milestones.
Still, though, I think that the separation of the denominations or the estrangement of many Jews is enough for us to focus perhaps harder this Tisha B’Av.
Certainly we have our enemies. Yes, they want Israel to disappear, and they wouldn’t care if the Jewish people were destroyed. It’s not a fantasy, it’s not imagination, it’s all brutally true.
So when we come out of Tisha B’av, with God’s help Tuesday night, can we somehow make the time as we approach the month of Elul something meaningful and real. Our strength in our faith has to start with us. We have to reach out better to one another, help one another and bring love and joy and hope to one another.
Make this Tisha B’av not just a matter of going through the motions.
Make it real.

My cousin Jon and I have stayed close friends through the years since our childhood.
It’s one of the nicest parts of my life to hear his voice and connect with his wife Joan and their son and daughter.
One of my deepest memories are the 4th of July celebrations we observed at Jon’s parents house in Darnstown, Md.
My uncle Julius and Aunt Irma purchased a home and land in the outer suburbs before everyone else caught up to them. We felt as if we were in the country when visiting them.
I remember the buildup to the fireworks. My mom and her sister would talk on the phone once a week, waiting until after a certain time to call for cheaper long distance rates. Their conversations made the rest of more excited.
July 4th meant my uncle went out and purchased one of those boxes of fireworks with the “snakes,” Roman candles, sparklers and bottle rockets. There would be an occasional package of firecrackers, but nothing really scary.
Yet this tradition connected us as a family through my childhood, teenage and adulthood.
My girlfriend Lisa, my wife of now almost 34 years, met the family at this celebration.
My children can remember the fireworks at Aunt Irma’s.
So Julius and Irma and my parents have passed on.
Here it is July 3, 2010 after Shabbat.
I get a text message from Jon.
There are fireworks at a park near his home in Virginia. Would we come?
My wife and I share the memories of Jon’s parents’ house on July 4th.
We felt as if we couldn’t wait to be together.
The drive through a hot Sunday afternoon led us to the town of Great Falls.
Narrow roads and well spaced houses with high shade trees made us feel we way out in the country.
Jon and Joan greeted us, along with their son David and his girlfriend Emily.
David is an officer in the U.S. Marine Corps. Emily is an officer in the U.S. Coast Guard.
This was going to be a different July 4th I thought.
And sure it was.
My cousin is going to deployed later this year in Afghanistan.
He’ll be attached to infantry.
When the sun set, and the firework display started, I looked over David if the fireworks had any different meaning for him than for the rest of us.
There were little children oohing and aahing, some waving American flags.
The picnics themselves, were decorated in red, white and blue table cloths, utensils and cups.
The fireworks also added color in the night with gold, reds and sparkling blue streams of fire in the Virginia night.
Below the fireworks, along the park land the haze of the explosions fought against the crushing heat and humidity to follow the sparks skyward.
Later in the evening, I had a chance to talk with my cousin David about Afghanistan.
His commitment to cause is unshakeable. The energy in his eyes suggests things like “if you only knew what I knew” or “how can I not take on this mission for my country?”
How could he not go?
I asked him if there is a transition a combatant must go through or learn from that bridges the experience learned in training and in the classroom to the live battlefield.
He’s been to different courses for officers, infantry school and even a trainings involving live ammo.
But it’s so much more than that.
My cousin believes in the mission of this country. There is no other fulfillment other than for him to answer the call of country.
He looks forward to it.
When he was a little boy, I remember him at my aunt’s house. He oohed and aahed with the rest of us when a small firework burned its pretty colors.
The fireworks he watched the other night weren’t going to hurt anyone.
Let’s hope that the fireworks he watches in Afghanistan leave him as safe as childhood summer evening in his grandmother’s backyard.
We are all proud of him.
And we know that perhaps this most recent July 4th had a different nuance for David, his parents Jon and Joan and for all of their family and friends.
But as David said to us about his deployment.
“It’s time.”
We want him to be back with us next year, this time.
Again with the oohing and aahing.
Hurry back David.