Table of Contents
The Beginnings
Karen and I moved from Toronto to London, ON in April of 1984 with our two children Jennifer age 10 and Adam age 8. I had been appointed as the General Manager of the new South Western Ontario Branch of The Paul Revere Life Insurance Company. My company had originally wanted me to move to Winnipeg. I pointed out that, Jews move FROM Winnipeg, Jews don’t move TO Winnipeg.
I had actually been living in London since December of 1983 getting the new offices set up. During that time I met Michael & Jill Simmons and Richard & Jan Lubell and their families. Both families came from Toronto and both were Reform Jews. However. there was no Reform Temple, but there was the London Reform Family Association. A group of Reform Jews who would get together and celebrate the Jewish holy days and holidays. Usually the group would get together in a member’s home.
After settling into our new home, Karen set about investigating the available synagogues. The Orthodox Synagogue was out of the question even though they had been very accommodating to Reform Jews. That left Or Shalom, a Conservative congregation. Or Shalom had a nice synagogue right next to the new Jewish Community Centre. The JCC had apartments and my mum was renting one of them. So for us Or Shalom seemed like a good idea. The Rabbi, Howard, had been a student at Vaughn Road Collegiate in Toronto around the same time as Karen so they knew each other. It all seemed a perfect fit, too perfect in fact because Rabbi Howard was too rigid in his feeling towards Reform Judaism. So rigid that we felt we could not be a member.
It was now mid-June and we were invited to a pool party at the Lubell’s to meet the members of the London Reform Family Association. Most of the members were originally from out-of-town. Many from Toronto and a few from Detroit. Most importantly they all had children around our kids’ ages. What that meant was that there were going to be many Bar & Bat Mitzvahs in the next few years. I remember thinking to myself, we are going to need a Reform Synagogue and starting now is as good a time as ever. The High Holy Days were just around the corner and there was no better time than now to galvanize the group. At that get-together the seed of what was to become Temple Israel was planted.
But first things first; the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services had to be organized. That meant getting a place to hold the services. The JCC was a natural choice. It had classrooms with sliding partitions. We had no idea how many people would show up. Baby-sitting had to be arranged and permission obtained and all sorts of details need to be considered and dealt with.
I was a Reform Jew in London, England and Karen had a long history of Reform Judaism at The Holy Blossom Temple in Toronto. In fact, Karen taught at the Holy Blossom school in her teens and I had been the President of the Nursery School and we lived two doors away from the Temple until we moved to London. We had both been involved in the growth of young families at the Temple. So, it was very easy for us to get the help we needed from Holy Blossom. We got prayer books etc. and visiting Rabbis. All the help we needed.
However, we still needed a proper name. At a social get-together we came up with many ideas for names for the new synagogue. Since we were a mobile congregation, existing in any room, in any building where there was space, we thought of Temple Winnebago-El. Someone else suggested Temple Shmemple. Temple Bain-Levain (in-between) was a possibility, since we were currently living in the J.C.C. which was between Or Sholom and Beth Tefilah.
Eventually we chose Temple Israel. Very simple and very easy to communicate, or so we thought. We were called either “Temple of Israel” or just plain Temple by the people at the mail box where the Temple Israel mail was sent.
Karen’s letter on TI 30th Anniversary.
Karen began networking with Arthur Grant and the CCRJ and that, my friends, is what would become the current Temple Israel. Momentum grew, word spread and interest increased. Over the next couple of years we began holding regular Shabbat Services and started conforming to the Jewish calendar in celebrating holidays and life cycle events.
Religious school began and everything was falling into place – except for one piece of the puzzle. Enter Joel and Ailene Wittstein and the rest truly is a piece of London’s history. We can’t really imagine our life in London without Temple Israel; it met our spiritual, educational and social needs. Under Joel’s leadership, the congregation thrived and grew. Our Kehillah Kedosha laughed and cried together, shared simchas and sad times, asserted its presence in the broader community and validated Reform Judaism to the conservative/orthodox congregations. It was the most deeply rewarding (albeit at times, in the early years, endlessly frustrating) experience of our lives. Thanks to all those who jumped on board and stayed on board. Mazal tov on our 30th anniversary!
Karen and Russell Ross
Toronto, 2015
We were a small but cohesive group. Very much dedicated to Reform Judaism and its ideals. As usual in any group we had the whole range of mentality. We had a lot of professionals, physicians, teachers, professors and a few business people. Very well educated and opinionated. A synagogue congregation is much the same as a village. We all have a common interest, Reform Judaism, a common goal; the up-bringing of our children and, of course, all that was missing was the village “Mishuganer”. In the coming years we would acquire that missing piece.
During the time between our formally becoming Temple Israel and the acquisition of our Rabbi, we had a number of visiting Rabbis.
Most of our visiting Rabbis were from Holy Blossom Temple in Toronto. But, we also had Rabbi Marmur’s son, Michael, as our High Holyday Rabbi. Michael was in Cincinnati, Ohio studying to be a Rabbi, so it was quite easy for him to visit us. Those of you who know Rabbi Dow Marmur, will also know that he has a very sharp wit and Michael was every bit a wit as his dad. The second year that Michael attended to our High Holyday needs he began by introducing himself as “the visiting Rabbi and not, as those of you who only attend once a year, may believe, “the” regular Rabbi. Brought lots of laughter.
Another frequently visiting Rabbi was Richard Hertz from Detroit. Rabbi Hertz was born in the U.S. to parents who were not too familiar with the diminutive form of the name Richard which combined with his surname could only bring about laughter or pity.
Hertz retired as senior rabbi of Temple Beth El in 1982 and was only too happy to take the time to officiate at our various functions. There were two unfortunate side effects to his helping us. One was that he knew less Hebrew than we did and two was that he brought with him an ex-congregant by the name of Edwin. Edwin was a great admirer of Rabbi Hertz and eventually moved to London with the expectation that Rabbi Hertz would become our permanent Rabbi. He was dead wrong. When Joel Wittstein joined us, Edwin stayed on. The village was now complete. Edwin was from Detroit so we now had our “michiganer”.
Edwin was a 70’s something, tall, slim, bachelor who resembled Ichabod Crane. He had medium brown hair and furry, green teeth. He wore horn-rimmed glasses with thick lenses which accentuated his large, hawk-like nose. He perpetually smelled of cigars and wore the most outrageous plaid jackets, and ties with patterns that made us dizzy (probably designed by someone who was having a migraine attack at the time) and brown pants with the zipper always showing. At every service he would always sit in the front row with his legs wide apart taking notes during the Rabbi’s sermon. At the end of the service Edwin would then “attack” the Rabbi with a list of questions about what was preached. Eventually it was up to one of us to run interference. A group of us would draw straws to see who would run interference that night.
Because of my Dale Carnegie training it became my job to approach Edwin about his cigar smell. He explained that he always smoked a cigar, in his car, on the way to our meetings. He promised to refrain. Well that was easy. Emboldened by his positive attitude, I thought I would also tackle the furry green teeth, but Carnegie didn’t cover personal hygiene in our training. So I withdrew. One battle at a time.
Two incidents with Edwin stick out in my mind.
It is traditional, during a Selichot service, for the Rabbi to pass a box containing spices to a member in the front row who would take a whiff of the spices and pass it on to next person. The act would be repeated until everyone had participated.
On this occasion the service was held in a small chapel like room which was part of Or Shalom. I was sitting at the back of the congregation along with Aileen, Jill and Thelma. The choir, consisting of David, Michael and Karen were in the front row on our right. As usual, Edwin was also in the front row, on our left. David and Karen were notorious for getting “the giggles”. The spice box was passed to the first person who waved his hand over the top of the box to draw the spice odour in his direction. It passed to the second person who repeated the act. It was then passed to Edwin. I let out an audible gasp as Edwin’s whole and quite significant nose disappeared into the box. David and Karen saw this and that’s when they lost control. They quickly passed the box on for fear of dropping it or snorting into it, because they were laughing at what had just taken place. Joel was quite upset with them although he understood their plight.
This was one crazy Selichot night. Soon after the service began we noticed smoke coming out of a vent in the ceiling. Fire? Steam? Maybe the Conservative building was rejecting Reform prayers. Who knew?
Chanukah
Chanukah was usually celebrated at the George White Centre on Clarke Road. We celebrated at the Centre so that we could bring our own food. The centre was a large lodge style structure used as a retreat by the YMCA. There were a few rooms and a large meeting area on the main floor. The centre piece of the meeting area was a fireplace with Christian signs and inscriptions written and carved into the stone mantle above the fireplace. These had to be covered lest we be turned, by their meaning, into Messianic Jews.
Chanukah was celebrated in the usual Jewish manner; lots of singing and eating; laughing and kids running around. Organized chaos that we all enjoyed.
This second incident took place at a Chanukah celebration at the George White Centre on Clarke Road. It had been snowing and although the driveway from the road to the centre was plowed, it was slippery.
We were in the middle of a short service when Edwin arrived, looking like he’d walked from home, went straight into the Centre’s office and phoned CAA. At the top of his voice and visibly irate he was yelling for someone to come “right now”. I had to go into the office and tell him to keep his voice down, he’s disturbing the service. He put his hand over the receiver and yelled back at me, “I have to get CAA to come out right now, my car’s in the ditch”. I exited, stage left, with my hand covering my mouth.
Breaking The Fast
It’s traditional to break the fast with honey cake. It was my job, since I was working in Toronto, to bring home a kosher cake. It was 1993 and Kol Nidre was on a Friday so it fit in with my usual plan of going home.
It was a busy day and in the afternoon I found myself downtown. The kosher bakeries are all uptown. What to do, what to do? It would be really too much to struggle uptown on a Friday with all the traffic going home early so I decided, what the hey we’re breaking the fast at our new Temple Israel home so I’ll go to Harbord Bakery and get the honey cake there.
When I got home, Karen asked if I had remembered the cake. I explained my busy day and smiling proudly I showed her the box. “Russell, if you were so busy how did you find the time to go to the kosher bakery uptown?”, she asked. I explained where I had bought the cake and Karen said, “Then this cake isn’t kosher”. “What does it matter, it’s kosher style and we’re breaking the fast at the Temple.” That’s when I found out that we were breaking the fast at the Community Center.
I was on the original Community Centre kitchen committee, so I knew all about the strict Kashrut observed by the Centre. I also knew that the Orthodox still didn’t eat there “just in case”.
Ok, now what’ll I do? Think, Russell, think!
So I thought and I came up with a great idea.
I peeled the label off a Kosher for Passover bottle and scanned it into my graphics program. Then carefully removed the Kosher for Passover wording and replaced it with Hebrew lettering. It looked really authentic. To avoid copyright, I changed the Hebrew from Beth Din to Beth Mishugah and stuck it on the box. Looked really good.
At the breaking of the fast everyone commented on how good the cake was. I beamed.
During the clean up I couldn’t find the cake box. I had thought it best to remove the cake box from the Centre, just in case. I asked Aileen if she knew where the box was. She asked why I needed it. I told her that it would be best if I took it home. Aileen said, “Why? It’s kosher isn’t it?”. I said, “why do you think it’s kosher?” She answered quickly, “well it had the blue kosher label on it”. I explained what happened and what I had done to get around the Community Centre mishugas. She started laughing and before I could say anything, she told Joel, who also laughed. He laughed even harder when he read the label. I found the box and took it home.