This Chanukah, as every year, Baltimore will be ablaze not only with the lights of the menorah but also with fond Chanukah memories from across the globe.

A Village in Germany

Mrs. Irma Pretsfelder grew up in a village of only two Jewish families, about 50 miles north of Frankfurt, Germany. She was almost 13 years old, in 1939, when her family fled the country for England. “Our family didn’t make that much of Chanukah,” recalls Mrs. Pretsfelder. “We lit the candles and sang “Moaz Tzur,” but as far as giving gifts, it didn’t happen in our house – there was no Chanukah gelt or gifts. My mother hand-grated her potato latkes and made her own donuts from scratch, with yeast. They were deep fried, unfilled, and dipped in sugar. How we loved them! We didn’t play dreidel; I learned that over here. It also wasn’t the custom to put our menorah in the window. Here I do, because everybody else does. During Hitler’s time, we were afraid of repercussions; we certainly didn’t have it in the window.”

What you are about to read shocked me, too. I first learned of it when my husband shared Rav Moshe Heinemann’s emotional plea on Selichos night at the Agudah about the hundreds of frum Baltimore children are not enrolled in Jewish schools. Without offering any further details, the Rav passionately stated that our community has a responsibility to deal with this issue. I was determined to find out more, and the investigative reporter in me took over. This is what I discovered:

It turns out that Seth Gerstman was also at the Agudah on Selichos night and heard Rav Heinemann’s plea. He took the initiative to gather further information for the Rav, and was most instrumental in leading me to those in the loop.

It took me a while to connect all the dots. There was our two-hour wait in the rental car line, our new dining room table that was promised to arrive any day but got held up for months at port, the endless dealership invites to sell my 2017 vehicle for top dollar, the repeated delays of our early Friday morning Southwest flight (that finally got us home an hour before Shabbos), and the months-long wait for a dented refrigerator door replacement.

The list goes on and on – across the board and across the globe. Product lines, professional services, food establishments, educational institutions, and more, in every state, every country, and every continent. For months, we have all experienced the trickle-down effects of this unprecedented labor shortage in one way or another. I went behind the scenes of just a few of these workplaces to do some investigation.

Tamar Schulman first heard about vaping from her children when they were in middle school. “I found out that kids were vaping in the school bathroom or behind the school building,” says Tamar. “I didn’t know anything about it; I had to go online and research what vaping is.”

Since then, she was told by a frum therapist, “Mrs. Schulman, I am telling you, vaping is happening in every school in Baltimore. It doesn’t matter how big or small the school is. Don’t kid yourself!”

It seems that, along with all the other hardships of COVID, travel has become distinctly unpleasant. Reading horror stories of frum Jews being thrown off flights on such airlines as Delta, Frontier, Spirit, and JetBlue leaves one to wonder whether their deplaning was precipitated by legitimate safety infractions, COVID-induced hysteria, or anti-Semitism. While the possibility of anti-Semitism is distressing in the extreme, at this point, it is hard to tell. But whatever the situation, polite and considerate behavior while on board is always in place and can prevent trouble. Here, a few of Baltimore’s frequent fliers share their travel experiences, opinions, and common sense tips on etiquette.

Navigating the shidduch system was a cinch when the Baby Boomers dated. That’s because there was no system – and yet, singles did not suffer from the shidduch “crisis” referred to today. In addition to meeting at shul, school, and singles events, they met at Shabbos tables, Catskill hotels, libraries, and even Tashlich. Relatives, friends, classmates, students, workmates, and neighbors often proposed (no pun intended) ideas. Oh, and suggestions were also made by shadchanim.

There was no such thing as today’s mandatory shidduch profile (more commonly called by the misnomer “resume”), and guys (or their mothers) did not insist on seeing the girl’s photo prior to going out. An extensive preliminary FBI (Frum Bureau of Investigation) check of references did not exist. After hearing some details, you basically trusted the person who broached the idea and then relied on your own judgment.