A clandestine undertaking on behalf of Israel, the Jets and the Jews.

 
Just Go Home II

In January, following the murder in the Lower East Side of Nicole DuFresne - who verbally responded and shoved a thug who mugged and attached her boyfriend and was then shot dead - I posted about the advice of Rich, my law school classmate who grew up in a tough Bronx neighborhood and often says that one's goal each day must be to stay out of danger and get home safely. Even if someone curses or shoves you, he says, it's best to walk away, since that person might well have a knife or a gun.

Late last night, I went out to move my car, since alternate side of the street parking is in effect in my neighborhood this morning. I then walked over to the nearby 7-Eleven to get something to drink. Just after I walked in, two rowdy guys in their 20's rushed in, pushed me out of their way, and muttered about the "f***** Jews." One said to the other: "Where the f*** are we? How'd we end up in a f***** Jew neighborhood?"

Suffice to say that my instinct in these situations - which thankfully do not occur routinely - is not to keep quiet and walk away. I remember as a little kid when my father went out one Saturday night to buy bagels and came back with a bloody eye. Turns out some Italian thugs were picking a fight with some Jewish kids, my father walked over and asked why they were bothering kids, and got sucker-punched. He had a patch for a week or two, but I was sure he did the right thing.

When I was 15 years old, the shul of Rabbi Hillel David was burned down on a Friday night just before Rosh Hashanah, with swastikas painted on the walls. All of the Torahs were burnt, and Rabbi David was quite emotional at a community "funeral" for the Torahs, which was well publicized by the media. The high school I went to was a few blocks from Rabbi David's shul, and the next day, instead of going to my secular studies classes, I hung out with a few friends outside the shul, where we talked with Tim Minton, who was covering the story for Channel 7.

I then took the bus home, and on the bus, some kids were joking about the rabbi who was crying about his synagogue. "Yeah, let's go burn down a synagogue tonight," one of the young punks said. I walked over, looked him in the eye, and kicked him in his testicles. Then, at the next stop - which was probably 20 seconds later - he and his friends dragged me out of the bus, held my arms and legs, and punched me for about 10 minutes. There were plenty of Orthodox Jews on the bus and in the area, none of whom intervened in any way.

While it's not fun getting punched, I was sure that I did the right thing, and that those who stood idly by were pathetic. Better to get punched then to have no self-respect. I still think that.

Last night, my initial instinct was the same as it always is. But I hesitated for a split-second, thought about the murder of DuFresne, about Rich's advice, and about my son who is a little less than 9 months old, and walked out of 7-Eleven without saying or doing anything. I am pretty sure that also was the right thing.
posted on 9/08/2005