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Tova Friedman was just six years old when she walked out of Auschwitz.  Now, 80 years later, Tova is devoted to speaking about her experiences as a child survivor of the Holocaust and being vocal about the threat of antisemitism. She knows how easily a society can transition from burning books to burning people, and she is determined to ensure that never happens again. Tova speaks to audiences worldwide–in person and on the social media platform TikTok, where she has amassed over half a million followers. Listen to Tova's harrowing, miraculous testimony of survival, as part of a live recording at the Weizmann National Museum of American Jewish History in Philadelphia, in partnership with AJC Philadelphia/Southern New Jersey.  Lisa Marlowe, director of the Holocaust Awareness Museum and Education Center (HAMEC), joined us to discuss the museum's mission to bring Holocaust survivors to schools, the importance of teaching history through eyewitness accounts, and the significance of preserving stories of righteous individuals like her Danish great-grandmother, who saved thousands of Jews during WWII. *The views and opinions expressed by guests do not necessarily reflect the views or position of AJC. Photo credit: Christopher Brown Resources: -About Tova Friedman and TovaTok -Holocaust Awareness Museum and Education Center (HAMEC) -AJC Philadelphia/Southern New Jersey Listen – AJC Podcasts: -The Forgotten Exodus: Untold stories of Jews who left or were driven from Arab nations and Iran -People of the Pod Follow People of the Pod on your favorite podcast app, and learn more at AJC.org/PeopleofthePod You can reach us at: peopleofthepod@ajc.org If you've appreciated this episode, please be sure to tell your friends, and rate and review us on Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Transcript of Interview with Tova Friedman and Lise Marlowe: Manya Brachear Pashman:  Yom HaShoah, Israel's Holocaust Remembrance Day, begins on the evening of April 23. To mark this remembrance, our broadcast this week features our recent live event at the Weitzman National Museum of American Jewish History in Philadelphia. There I had a conversation with Lise Marlowe, of the Holocaust Awareness Museum and Education Center in suburban Philadelphia and author and Holocaust survivor Tova Friedman.  __ Thank you to all of you for being here today to participate in a live recording of People of the Pod, American Jewish Committee's weekly podcast about global affairs through a Jewish lens. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Down here on this end is Lise Marlowe, our partner and organizer of this wonderful event. She is the program and Outreach Director of the Holocaust awareness Museum and Education Center, otherwise known as HAMC in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania, which is just outside here in Philadelphia. She is also a long time teacher who has come up with some quite innovative ways to teach Holocaust history to middle school students. But before we begin and get to all of that, I do want to turn to Lisa for a few minutes. If you could just tell us a little bit about HAMC. What is it? Because we are in a different museum venue now.  Lise Marlowe:   Thank you Manya, and thank you everyone for being here today. So HAMC is America's first Holocaust Museum, which started in 1961 by Holocaust survivor named Jacob Riz, who lost 83 family members to the Nazis. Our Museum's mission is to bring Holocaust survivors to schools and organizations. We believe it's important to give students the opportunity to learn history through an eyewitness. When we host a school program, we tell students that they are the last generation to meet a survivor, and once they hear a survivor's story, it becomes their story to tell. It also becomes their responsibility to speak up and stand up to the Holocaust deniers of the world and to say, I know you're lying because I met a survivor. It's not easy for our survivors to tell their story, but they want to honor the family they lost. And to make sure students know what happened so history hopefully doesn't repeat itself.  Hearing about the rise of antisemitism, seeing hate towards other groups, can bring trauma to our survivors, but our survivors teach students that there are things we can do to stand up to hate. We can remember that words matter, kindness matters, that we can support and help each other when bad things happen. The Holocaust did not begin with concentration camps. It began with words.  Our museum brings hundreds of programs all over the world, so please reach out to us at HAMC.org. Because we believe education is stronger than hate. We find that students are inspired by the messages our survivors tell them, which is to not hate others. Even though they lost everything. Their families, their property, their identity, their childhood, they teach students that hate can only destroy yourself. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Thank you so much, Lise. I met some of Lise's former students who are here in the audience today. You have some really remarkable ways of teaching Holocaust history so that it sticks. I would like to get into that a little bit later. And you also have your own family story to share, and we'll learn more about that later, as she is one of our two guests on today's podcast.  You see, there are three pieces to our podcast today, including the traditional format of a conversation with our guests, which will come later, and then your opportunity to ask questions. But to really comprehend what we discuss, you must first hear the powerful story that our guest of honor, the woman next to me, Tova Friedman, one of the youngest people to emerge from Auschwitz, the Nazi's concentration camp and extermination camp in occupied Poland. You must hear her story first.  Tova has worked tirelessly to share her story in every format possible, to reach the widest audience. In addition to telling her story in person, at venues such as this, she worked with a journalist to produce an accurate and comprehensive memoir, and next month, a young adult version of that memoir will be released.  She's worked with her grandson, Aaron, a student at Washington University, to share portions of her story on Tiktok on a channel called TovaTok, that has about 522,000 followers, and she is here today to reach our podcast listeners. And you. After her presentation, Tova will have a seat once again, and we'll continue the conversation. But right now, it is my honor to turn the mic over to Tova Friedman:. Tova Friedman:   Thank you. I have no notes and I can't sit because I'm a walker. You know, I think better when I walk. I think better on my feet. Let me tell you, a few months ago, I was in Poland. I was invited as a speaker to the 80th commemoration of Auschwitz liberation.  Five years ago, I was there also–75th. And there were 120 Holocaust survivors there with their families and their friends from Auschwitz. This time there were 17 [survivors], and we'll have no more commemoration. We're done. People, the lucky people, are dying from old age. You know, they're, or they're Florida, or they're gone, okay, they're not available.  So what's scary is that many young people will not meet a survivor, and they will be told in colleges and high schools, probably it never happened. It's an exaggeration. You know, the Jews. They want everybody to be sorry for them. That will happen. And that's been happening here and there to my grandchildren.  Right now, I've got eight grandchildren, but two are in colleges, and one is in Cornell. And I got the saddest phone call on Earth. To me it's sad. He got a beautiful Jewish star when we went to Israel. He called me to ask me if he should wear it inside, hidden, or if he should wear it outside. That's so symbolic.  And I said to him, do you want to be a visible Jew, or do you want to be a hidden Jew? Do what you want. I will not criticize you. I know that life is changed from when I went to college. America is different, and I'm just so upset and unhappy that you, at age 18-19, have to go through that. One of my grandkids had to leave the dormitory because of the absolute terrible antisemitism. She is in McGill in Canada, and she has to live by herself in an apartment because even her Jewish friends stopped talking to her. So what kind of a world are we living in? Extraordinarily scary, as far as I'm concerned. That's why I talk. You can hear my voice. I talk as much as I can for a number of reasons. First, I talk in order for those people who were murdered, million and a half children, some of the faces I still remember, and a total 6 million Jews, they cannot be forgotten. They cannot be forgotten.  This is such a wonderful place here that I hear you have classes and you have survivors talking to kids. You take them to schools. I think it's fabulous, but you got to do it fast, because there's just not many of us going to be here for a long time. So one thing is memory.  The other reason I speak is a warning. I really feel that this world is again turning against us. We have been scapegoats all through history. Books have been written. Why? Why this? Why that? Why this? Why that? I can't figure out why. They're jealous, we feel with the chosen people. Oh, my God, it goes on and on. But why us? It started 2000 years ago.  So I'm here to remember, so that all those people didn't just die and became ashes. But we're living in a world where we have to be aware. We have to be aware. You heard statistics that were scary. You know, I didn't even know some of the statistics. That Jews are stopping to use their Jewish last name when they make reservations somewhere? In America.? You know, I remember when I walked out from Auschwitz with my mother. My mother survived, and I'll take you back and just give me a certain amount of time. What happened? She said to me, remember I was exactly six and a half years old. And I do, I remember. And one of the reasons I remember is because my mother was a big talker. Talker just like I am. I inherited it from her. She would tell me everything. We were in all kinds of conditions. And I'd say, Mom, what is that? She says, Yeah, that's the smoke, people are being burned. She didn't say, you know, Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it. No, no, no, no. She talked and she talked as long as I was with her, until we were separated. That's why my memory is so sharp, and I always tell the younger generation: stop texting and start talking. Texting, you won't remember anything. It doesn't go into your brain. When somebody talks to you, you will never forget. When your mom or dad says things to you, you will remember them. If they text it to you, it lasts a few minutes and it's gone. So that's why I remember so much.  My mother lost 150 people. She was the only survivor of Auschwitz. The only survivor, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, all gone, and she died very young. She died at 45. Her war never ended. Her Auschwitz, she brought with her to America because she just couldn't get over it. My father lost about all his brothers and sisters except two, and he was able to handle life a little bit better, but she wasn't.  In my town, there were hundreds of Jewish children at the end of the war. There were five left. Five. I'm the youngest. That's why I'm still here talking. Two have died, and one is in her 90s, and she doesn't talk much anymore. So I feel like I'm representing an entire town that's gone, just gone. A town that had synagogues and they had football and they had a very vibrant town. Where my mother was a young woman. She was studying. My father was an actor, a singer, and a tailor, so he should have some money, but they were all functioning. It's all gone.  When I went to visit, because I took my grandchildren so they can see, there was no sign the Jews even were there. It's like we disappeared. My memory of the war starts when I was four, not so much before. My parents lived in a very modern town. And because they left the shtetl, my mother wasn't interested in all the religious and the sheitles, and you know, the wigs people used to wear, which, by the way, my daughter now is wearing a wig, which is sort of strange, right?  And they went to live a modern life. As soon as Kristallnacht came, he knew right away that this is not a place for him. And what do you do when you're scared? You go home, you go to your parents. So my mother and father, I was one year old, went back to their parents' home. What did they find there? That they were already in a ghetto.  Now, I remember the ghetto at the age of four, there were lots and lots of people in a tiny apartment, no running water, no bathrooms, no food, no room. So I was under the table. All my memories were under the table. And I knew things that were going on. How did I know? Because I heard it.  You know, a kid at four, four and a half, people make mistakes. The children don't know. Children know everything. They may not be able to verbalize it, but they know. And I knew what was the issue. I knew that they killed children and that I have to be under the table. I knew that. I knew that my grandparents are going to die soon. I heard it. I heard my father talking. I heard my mother talking. I heard the other people talking in the apartment in Yiddish. I still remember the words, oh, they name it. They're taking the elderly. They're taking this.  Well, one day they came in, they took my grandmother, and they shot her, right outside our window, you know, took her outside. You know what's amazing when I think about this? Because I've tried to get some perspective. I've always tried to figure out, how did that happen? Why?  How is it possible? Hitler was brilliant, and if he wasn't brilliant, he had brilliant people helping him. Idiots could not have done what he did. They were educated people. He had therapists. He had a nutritionist. And you know what they said, break up the family, and you will break up people. People die when their family is killed, they die sometimes physically, sometimes emotionally. Listen, I'm a grandmother. I have eight grandchildren. I know what it means to be a grandmother in my role, and I'm sure many of you feel the same way. So they took away the elderly.  One day, my father comes in, and he says to my mother, I just put them on the truck. I know what he meant. I was exactly four and a half because I was standing by a table. I could tell my size. The table went up to my chin, and I knew that there were because the day before these people in their 20s and 30s, they were the strong guys. They dug graves for their own parents. We, the Jews, dug graves for our children and our parents.  You know when the Nuremberg Trials came, some of the guys said, we didn't do anything. We never killed any…you know why? Because they used us to kill our own people. So that time, my father told my mother what was going on. He was sitting, his tears were coming down. And I could picture it, because, by the way, whatever I tell you, multiply by hundreds. This was a template, you know, like you have a template on a computer, you just fill in the name and everything is the same. You can fill in all kinds. You apply for a job. There is a special way. That's what happened. The Germans when they came to a town, they didn't have to think what happened. They had the piece of paper, kill the elderly, kill the children, as soon as possible. So I knew. I knew exactly what was going on. I knew that my grandparents were gone, my father's parents, my mother's mother was killed. Her my grandpa died before the war from some disease. He was very lucky. So here we are. One day. I had this uncle, James. He was a German Jew. He spoke a perfect German.  So he thought, look at our minds. He thought, he speaks German. He's going to volunteer. He didn't have working papers, and he was scared to die. His wife, my aunt, she had working papers. So he went to the Gestapo, and he said, I'll be your translator. I speak a perfect German. I was born in German. And they shot him on the spot.  So I remember he used to come and visit us. I sat on his lap one day. My father said, you won't go to see Uncle James anymore. He's not coming back. I didn't say anything. I know he was dead. I didn't know how he was dead. So the reason I'm telling you all the different things is because this happened in every other ghetto.  We were living 16,000 Jews in 250 apartments, and we couldn't go in, and we couldn't get out, except certain people who had privileges. They had working papers, they had special papers. They could go out. That's how the smuggling started. Also, certain people could go out, bring some food, because we were starving. We were starving to such a point. You know why? Because the nutritionist, the PhD, the best nutritionist in Germany, told Hitler how much to feed us in order to die. You want them to die in two months? Give them that much bread. You want them to die in two weeks? Give them that. My town, which was called Tomaszow Mazowiecki, has no Jews anymore. I just wanted to mention the name because my family was there for 200 years, because the Poles in the beginning were very good to the Jews.  They wanted the Jews because we were good business people. Every time the Jews were there, the place thrived. There were close to 100 tailor shops in town, all Jewish. So how could you go wrong? They brought business from everywhere. But now, of course, there isn't anybody. And slowly,  all those people were sent to Treblinka. There were left about 50-60, people, my parents, I among them. There were very few kids left. And we were the cleanup squad. Not only did my father had to dig the graves, I don't think my mother did. My father, dig the graves, but afterwards you have to clean up. You can't leave a town so dirty because they wanted to leave no witnesses. Hitler had an order all the way from Berlin, no witnesses. That's another reason he killed the children. Kids can grow up and be a witness like me, and that was very dangerous for him. Because, you know, it's interesting from the psychological point of view, no matter what atrocities he and his people did, in the back of their mind, they were afraid of the consequences. They were afraid of consequences. That's why you leave no witnesses.  But at that time, my father buried people and he said Kaddish. I didn't know what Kaddish was. I didn't know what being Jewish was. I don't remember any Jewish holidays. I knew that being Jewish means death, but I wasn't sure what that meant, Juden. What is this Juden business? But look at four and a half. I wasn't going to think about it. Anyhow, they moved the camp. We cleaned it up. We came to the next camp, and the next camp was the labor camp. Only work. We worked for more, not me, my parents did, and I want to tell you something about that.  Slowly they did the same exact thing they did in every other camp. People were taken away. The moment you were sick, the moment you were tired, straight into some camp. One day, I heard, I heard– my mother told me, I didn't hear anything. She said they're taking the children, whoever, whatever, there were very few children left, maybe 20-30–we've got to hide you. And she hid me in like a crawl space, like they had these tiles or something. I don't know it was tile, something. And she put me in there, and she followed me, just the two of us, my father didn't get in there. And she put me on her lap, I remember. And she put her hands on my mouth. I shouldn't scream.  I remember it was so tight that for weeks I had blue marks right here. And from the little window, I see where all my friends that I was playing with outside, because my parents were gone a whole day, I was outside with the other kids, put on trucks, but I knew where they were going. They were going to the place where the big graves were dug for them.  So anyhow, when my mother said, we have to hide, we were there for maybe an hour or two. After it was all done, the kids were gone. We went up downstairs in a little room. She said, from now on, you can no longer be on the street. Okay, so I couldn't go out. I stayed in the dark room for a few weeks. It's another story, but one day I remember, and she came every day from work, she gave me food, and I slept with my parents. Because they were in the room with me.  One day, she said, Oh, you don't have to go to the room anymore. I was delighted. I said, I don't have to? No, you can go outside. I haven't been outside for weeks, and I saw she was sort of packing, moving things. We had so few things. I said, What are you doing? She says, We're packing. We're going to Auschwitz. Again, they had, you know, cleaned up the ghetto.  The place was called Starachowice. It was a Polish place. Had a town next to it even, and people who lived around, the non Jews, knew what was going on. They all knew, because there was always a town nearby. There was also a town near Auschwitz. Auschwitz, people lived a normal life there. So anyhow, I knew. I said, Auschwitz. We're going to Auschwitz, okay? I didn't care. I was so happy that I was outside.  Within a very short time, we started walking. The train was waiting. My parents were separated. That's the first time. We were always together. My father was crying, and I remember I was little, so my mother picked me up, because I don't know if anybody of you either have been either to Auschwitz or to New York City. They have the cattle car by the museum, right outside, right. You saw the cattle car and it's that high, very hard to get on it. So she had to pick me up. She put me in and my father said, Be a good girl. I said, Yeah, I'll be a good girl. And he went to another cattle car. I was with my mother, and then a 36 hour drive began, no food, no no food and no drink, very hot, because they were all women. 150 women, and no bathrooms.  And I remember, I said, Mom, I have to go. I have to go. She didn't answer me. And then I said to myself, Oh, I know everybody's going where they're standing. I think that that was a dividing line between being human and being inhuman. We're all dressed like normal kids. I had braids, you know, when we walked out, we were all covered with feces, because everybody was going everywhere. And many people had died, and I am outside standing watching all this going on, and my mother says to me, Get undressed.  And I said, why? It was about July, August. It was summertime. Why? She said to me, they want to check if we're healthy. So I, very obedient, by the way, very, very. My mother taught me rules, and I'll tell you about the rules. So I took off my clothes, and she said, don't look at the eyes of the dogs. Don't look at anybody's eyes, because these the Germans came with their dogs. And When I was by myself, in the in the labor camp, she also taught me, because I was alone, never have eye contact. She said, eye contact will make you recognize and when you see a dog stand still, which is counterintuitive.  I was frightened, terrified of the dogs more than of the Germans, but she said, the dogs will think that you're running away, and they are trained to kill when somebody's trying to run away. So in other words, she always trained me how to be self sufficient, how to recognize danger and what to do with it. So eye contact is pure danger, and running is pure danger. So I learned very, very easily how to do that. So when I'm there, I'm standing very still, the dogs are passing by. And then I say, what's the smell, it stinks here. I said, it stinks. She pointed to the crematorium. They were taking the burning bodies from the gas chamber, and it was all black, and you could smell it. And you know what? She didn't have to say anymore. I knew it. So I remember saying, Mom, how do I look? How do I look? And she said, Oh, you look good. I said, Am I healthy? She said, Yeah, you're very healthy. I said, what about you? Oh, I'm healthy too. She said. And somehow we made it.  I tried to find out. I wrote a book together with a researcher. He tried to research. He lives in England. What happened that day? Every child under the age of 12 or 13 was taken straight to the crematorium. We're useless. Old people, pregnant people, sick people. What is old, 50 and over, because you can't work. Even in Auschwitz, you had to work. Even when you waited for your death, there was some job they gave you. So that you had to be healthy, at least. Anyhow, I don't really know. I was told that we arrived on a Sunday, and Sunday they were the Germans were Christians, so they didn't want to open another crematorium. They had four going. They didn't want the fifth. That's somehow how I and my mother survived. My whole transport, not just me. We were all, you know, a bunch of people. We went to another room. They shaved my head. I remember that very well, because they picked me up and I was, I was quite small, so they picked me up, put me on a bench, and the woman did my hair. And she herself, and I couldn't find my mother, and they gave me some clothes, because they've taken my clothes by the train. And then she found me, and then she took my hand, and we followed a whole bunch of people into Auschwitz proper. This was outside of Auschwitz before you were like, ready, and so you went inside. We got a middle bed, and then she started teaching me again.  She said, you know, there'll be a lot of people here sleeping. More women, so when you're asleep, you can't move around so much, because then everybody else has to move. Okay. And I said, What about if I have to go to the bathroom? She says, No, you can't. That was a terrible thing for me as a child. I had to hold it, because they had it twice a day to the bathroom. And then she said, Look, you're going to get a cup. I didn't get it yet. We were going to be getting a cup, a tin cup, a spoon and a bowl. If tyou lose it, and if somebody steals it, you'll go hungry and you'll die.  She said, they don't look at you. You take out the bowl. Somebody gives you something to eat. Nobody touched it, by the way. I was so aware of it. I just want to go a little fast forward, because I need your questions. I need to know what you want to know. And then one of the things I told you is bathroom for kids. It was hard for me to hold it. Well one day, we were all on line, and I really had to go. So I went in front of the line, and I was in such a hurry that I fell. The way the bathrooms were, I don't know if anybody's been to Auschwitz. The slabs of the boards. It was big, gigantic holes. The holes were like, maybe this size. My grandkids, who are, one of them is 6”2, got the privilege, because of me, to try out those bathrooms.  He sat on it and he said, Grandma, I don't know how you didn't of course, you fell in. He said, It's too big for me. I fell inside. And of course, they got me out and they hosed me down, but I must have picked up some kind of a bug. There were rats there, there were feces up to here. And I got very sick, but I knew that sickness meant death, so I was very careful not to tell anybody, but that somebody saw me, and they said, this child, this child is ill.  And they were so scared of illness, because illness meant death immediately. Because every morning they came, they picked up the dead, the sick, on one of those three wheel things. Wheelbarrow, wheelbarrow, to the crematorium. So I was afraid to be one of them. And then somebody said she's sick. She's going to infect all of us.  They picked me up. I don't remember much about that, because I was really ill, and they took me to one of those places, a hospital, without doctors. When I woke up, I must have had fever, they told me no more. You can't go back to your mother. And that's when they took me to the children's place. For the first time, I saw so many children, I never knew they even existed, and they tattooed me. I remember. They said, Oh, your name is such and such. No, it's 27,633. And the woman said, Say it. Say it. I couldn't say it. I don't know what numbers were. Never went to school, but she was so kind. She taught me. She said it again. She said, just say the words, say the words. And I did it, and I learned.  And she gave me a rag with cold water. She said, press it hard. Don't rub. It'll swell. I was there just about towards the end of the war. But one day, I got a package and it said, Happy sixth birthday. I'm six. I didn't know it. I said, Oh, my mother must be somewhere, and she's alive, because she gave me a package. It was a piece of bread, but I was going to save it until I'm dead. I imagine there's a little girl I'm going to be dying, dying, dying, like everybody is dying, but I won't, because I'll take that piece of bread and I'll eat it. I didn't know anything about bread getting stale. I know nothing about bread, so I remember keeping it here, just like that, because it was on a piece of string. In the middle of the night, rats came, ate up everything, tore my clothing, but they didn't touch me. Miracle. There were a number of miracles that, I should have been dead.  All I can tell you is, within a few weeks, something weird was going on at Auschwitz. I did not know. Terrible noise, terrible shooting. Dogs were barking, and the person who was in charge of us, it was always a kapo, an adult woman, was gone. The door was open, but we didn't dare open the door. We heard the dogs outside, and shooting. We were frightened and we were hungry. There wasn't even the little bit that we got every day, even that wasn't there.  And all of a sudden, the door opens, and my mother–I didn't know it was my mother–a woman comes in full of rags. She looks terrible. She looks around. Nobody's saying a word. She looks around, she looks around, she comes over to me, and she looks at me, and she bends down like on her knees a little bit. She says my name, and she says, You don't know me. I'm your mother. I thought to myself, my mother, she doesn't look like my mother. I only saw my mother six, seven months earlier, but she didn't look anything like it.  She just looked just, I can't even describe it. But she convinced me and listen to what she said. She looked at me. She said, You look like you can survive. Look at me. Her feet were swollen, and she said, listen, we're going to try to hide. We will either survive together or die together. What do you think? I said, I want to be with you. I don't care what. She takes my hand and we snuck, we didn't even have to sneak out because the door was open, but the other kids refused to leave. We were all so frightened, but somehow we got out.  She's walking. She's walking. Outside the dogs are barking. It's terrible. We're walking very close to the barracks, and she comes to a house, door. She walks. She must have had a plan. I didn't know that. And it's a hospital without doctors. All these people are screaming and crying and she goes from bed to bed. She touches everybody. I don't ask a question. And I'm wondering, why is she doing that?  She found a corpse that she liked. It was a corpse of a young woman, maybe twenty, now I look back at it to me, she was an adult, in the 20s, nice, nice looking woman who must have just died because she was warm. So she could manipulate her body. I remember my mother took off my shoes, picked me up, and she said, Listen, don't breathe. I'm going to cover you up. No matter what you hear–because she knew I couldn't see anything–what you hear don't get uncovered. Try to breathe into the ground.  She takes my face, she puts it towards the floor, and she manipulates my body, and she puts me very close to the corpse, and then she covers it up, and outside, you only see the head of the woman who died, and her hands, and her hands are holding like the blanket, so you can't see. All of a sudden, I can hear screaming and yelling. I don't move. I obey orders. And I can hear steps. I remember the steps, and somebody stopped, and I say to myself, Oh, I'm going to stop breathing. I stopped breathing. I was afraid that the blanket would move. Well, I just couldn't anymore.  The person walked away, and then screaming and yelling went on, I didn't move. And all of a sudden I smelled smoke, and I said, How can I not get uncovered? In the beginning, I still breathed very shallow, but I couldn't. And I said, I'll have to get uncovered to get air. And then all of a sudden, my mother pulls the blanket off me and says in Yiddish, they're gone. The Germans are gone. And she must have hidden with another corpse. And when I sit up in the bed, all these people have been hiding with other corpses. And in order to get out, they were pushing the corpses off the beds, so the corpses were flying everywhere, you know, while the people who were hidden under the corpses. So she says to me, come. I couldn't find my shoes, so I walked without and she takes my hand, and we were all walking. It was January 25, 1945. Germans have all gone. Taken with them, 50,000 people. Other people were just dying everywhere, and the Russians had not come yet. The Russians came two days later.  So we had two days inside the camp, without anybody, without the Germans. And we waited until they came, but there was electrified still. We couldn't get out. There was electricity everywhere. So we waited till the Russians came. And while we were standing by the barbed wires, I saw all these soldiers jump off trucks, and they were doing something with electricity. Then they could open the doors. And it was January 27 the liberation of Auschwitz, where children, whoever was left, was left. But many were in the process of dying, and you couldn't stop it.  Hundreds and hundreds of people died while the Russians were there, because you couldn't stop whatever they had, you know. And I remember, the Russians said, show us your number. Some kids were standing there. There's a picture of it, and I'm standing in front showing my number. And I'm talking for all the kids who didn't make it to that day. So thank you for listening.  Did I take too much time? I'm sorry.  Manya Brachear Pashman:   I don't think you can take too much time sharing that story. I know that there's so much more to share.  So many miracles, Tova. Tova Friedman:   Yes. Manya Brachear Pashman:  You have spent most of your adult life sharing your story to advance Holocaust education, and I'm curious what was the catalyst for that? Did someone ask you to share your story? Tova Friedman:   I tried to talk to people when I came to America. Because my teachers, I could read. I didn't go to school till I was 12. So I wanted to tell them why, but nobody heard me. Nobody cared. Nobody wanted to talk about it. But one day, when my oldest daughter was 15, she said to me, they're looking for a Holocaust survivor in school. Can you come to my class? That's how I started. Manya Brachear Pashman:   And then your grandson, many years later, introduced you to this thing called Tiktok, right? Tova Friedman:   I didn't know what Tiktok was because my daughter worked for a candy company called Tic Tac. You know the Tic Tac that you eat, the little white things that you have, like they make noise and stuff. So that's her company. Well, it's not her. She works for them. So I said to my son, what would a candy company be interested in the Holocaust? It's the same word. In fact, I still don't know the difference. Tik tok? Tic Tac? Manya Brachear Pashman:  Tic Tacs. Tova Friedman:   Tic Tac and TikTok? Manya Brachear Pashman:  Yes. Right, that's what you're on, TikTok. Tova Friedman:   A refugee is always a refugee. So he said to me, we had Shabbos dinner in his house, and he said, Can you give me two minutes? I said, Of course. He said, Just tell me something about yourself. Two minutes, because the people who are going to hear it have a two minute span. They can't listen to more than two minutes. I said, What should I say? Anything? Okay, my name and two minutes. Goes very quickly. And then all of a sudden, a half hour later, he said, people are interested. I said, what people? He said, on this. I said, on what?  You have a phone in your hand. What are they, who? And that's how it started. He first explained to me the system, what it means, and he got questions. He said, Would you like to answer the questions? I said, Who's asking? You know, I mean, I'm not in the generation of social media. I don't even have Facebook. I don't know any of that stuff. So he explained to me, he taught me, and he's very good at it. He's a wonderful guy. He's now 20. He's at WashU. And he became the person who's going to try to keep it going. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Well, your presence on Tiktok is really this wonderful, really, very innovative way of reaching people, of reaching young people, Jewish and non-Jewish. Tova Friedman: Right. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Lisa, you've come up with some unusual ways to reach young people. You were a middle school teacher until two years ago. Is that right? But you had this project where you had your students draw stick figures, and this was more than two decades ago when you started this. Can you tell us a little bit about the stick figures, which is like the polar opposite of Tiktok, but just as innovative?  Lise Marlowe:   So when I started teaching the Holocaust, and the first thing you say is 6 million Jews were murdered just for being Jewish, I realized the number did not shock students. I mean, it was sad, and they were empathetic, but the number 6 million…when we think about this generation and our sports heroes and our celebrities making millions of dollars, 6 million didn't sound like a big number. So at the time, I just had students take out a piece of paper and draw 20 stick figures across the paper. And to keep doing that for five minutes to see how many we could draw in five minutes. And my class, on the average, could draw, almost all of our elementary schools and middle schools in five minutes time, thousands of stick figures in five minutes time. And then the next day, when I went to my lesson, I'm teaching the Hitler's rise to power, one of my students stopped me and said, Wait, Mrs. Marlowe, aren't we going to draw stick figures? And I said, What do you mean?  And she said, Well, I went home and I talked to my grandmother, and the other students were jealous that we're drawing stick figures. And I think if we get together, my church and all of our friends, we pull together, I think we can draw 6 million. Tova Friedman: Wow.  Lise Marlowe:   And I said, you want to do this? And she said, Yes, I want to do that. So it warms my heart that every year I had hundreds and hundreds of students drawing stick figures, mostly not Jewish students. We are in a very diverse community in Shawnee school district, one of the most diverse in the state, mostly students of color, and I had them handing me in 1000s of stick figures every week, it covered our whole entire gym floor. And when I retired, sadly, we did not get to all the children, because we know 1.5 million children were murdered.  There was 1.6 million children to start with, and that means 94% of all the Jewish children were murdered in Europe, and we did not reach that milestone. And that shows that 6 million is a big number. And I have students like, you know, they're in their 30s and 40s now, who will always stop me on the street and say, did you get to 6 million. They always remember that's that project, and I have to, sadly tell them, we didn't even finish the children. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Tova, I would say that teaching is your side gig, right? You certainly have done so much to advance education, but professionally, you're a therapist, and I'm curious if your experience, your lived experience, has informed how you communicate with your patients? Tova Friedman:   I think it does. You know, to me, time has been always of essence. Time is the only thing we have. Money comes and goes. You look at the stock market. Tight now, it goes. Sometimes it goes up, sometimes it goes down. Time is the only thing. Once you lose it, it's done.  So when I get a therapist, that's how I always thought, because timing to me, like, how many people just died that didn't have the time, like those 6 million people that you drew. And the children, how much they could have accomplished, had they had time, right? Time was taken from them. So when I get a client, the first thing I say, listen, we're not going to be here forever. We're not going to sit and talk about your parents and your grandparents. Five years from now, you'll be able to maybe. No, it's going to be time-limited, and it's going to be quick. And you have to accept my style, or there's so many people who love having you for 10 years. I need 10 weeks or less.  That means that their goals, you accomplish them. I'm a little tough, and I say I'm not going to hold your hand, even if I could. I can't anymore because of COVID and because a lot of it is on Zoom. But even when I had them in my office, I said, I will not be a therapist who's going to sympathize, sympathize, sympathize. I'll sympathize for five minutes, then we're going to work. And a lot of people will say to me, Oh, that's exactly what I needed, somebody to really push me a little bit. I said, Yeah, but that's the way it's going to be.  And others say, Wow, you're a mean person. I don't want to want to be here. I said, there are hundreds of other therapists. So yes, Holocaust has taught me, eat it fast, or somebody else will take it. I'm sorry, but also that's one thing. But let's talk about the good things. This is good too, but. My degree was in gerontology, because Hitler was, that's the most vulnerable in our society.  You know, the elderly become alcoholics. Loneliness is among the elderly, financial issues. You know, loneliness is a killer. And I worked with the elderly to help them. I felt that's, that's the people that are sort of redundant. So that's where I worked with. I did it for years. And then I went to other age groups. I feel that my experience gives them courage.  You know, come on, come on. Let's do it. Try it. Don't worry. What can happen? What can happen if you speak to your to your father or to your mother and you say this and this, what can happen? In my mind, I said–I don't tell them that, and don't say I said that–I said there are no gas chambers here. So just you know, in my mind, I said, the consequences are minor, so let's do it. And it works. Manya Brachear Pashman:   And I wondered if it was the level, the level of trauma, pales in comparison to what you went through?  Tova Friedman:   No, no. Manya Brachear Pashman:   That's what I was wondering.  Tova Friedman:   I feel that every trauma is different than, you know. You can't say, Well, my foot hurts, and it's so, big deal. So your foot hurts, my two feet hurt. No. Every pain deserves a healing, even if it's a little toe, it deserves it. And I take it very seriously. Most clients don't know about me, hopefully. I don't talk about anything personal. But I'm a little bit, you know, we don't have time on this earth. Let's make it as good as possible.  Manya Brachear Pashman:   Thank you, thank you for sharing that. Lisa, I want to ask about your family, about your great grandmother's efforts. She was not Jewish, but she saved thousands of Jews in Denmark, and I'm curious how that story was passed down in your family. Lise Marlowe:   So I started learning the Holocaust at a very young age, because my grandfather was from Denmark, and he actually fought against the Nazis for the Danish Navy, and he would share with me how his mother rescued Jews in boats, in fishing boats, and take them to Sweden. And I never really heard that story before. And I was able to go to Denmark and go to Sweden and do more research. And I learned that she was actually the editor of Land of Folk newspaper, which was a major resistance newspaper. 23 million copies were given out secretly to make sure that people knew what was happening. But I was so proud, you know, being Jewish that my non-Jewish side of my family helped to rescue people, and I think it really helped me with the work that I do now, and standing up, and social justice, that's always been a passion of mine, and I think just her story inspired me to stand up for others. And they literally saved 99% of the population by getting them to Sweden. And it's really a truly heroic story that's not told that much. But the Danish people, if you ask them, they're very humble, and their attitude is, it's what people are supposed to do. So I'm just very proud of that Danish heritage.  Tova Friedman:   Do you think that their king or something has something to do with it? Leaders? Tell me about that? Lise Marlowe:   It's a myth, right, that King Christian wore a Jewish star. He did say, if the Nazis require our Danish Jewish people to wear the star, I will wear it with the highest dignity. Along with my family. And Danish people didn't treat the Jews as the other. They considered them their friends and their neighbors, and that's why they did what they did.  Tova Friedman: Wonderful.  Lise Marlowe:   They didn't see them as the other, which is such an incredible lesson to teach students.  Tova Friedman: Yes, yeah. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Preserving these stories is so important, your experiences. Have you witnessed as lasting an effort to preserve the stories and pass down the stories of the righteous among us, like your great grandmother. And I ask you both this question, is it as important? Tova Friedman:   I think it's, you know, Israel, there is this wonderful, in Yad Vashem, the big museum, there's a whole avenue of the righteous. You know, I ask myself, what would I do if my family would be in danger in order to save somebody else, and the answer is, I don't know. But I am so utterly amazed that people do that. And there are many–well, not enough–but this is very impressive, your story, and I would love to learn. I don't know the answer, what separates one person from the other, that one is selfless and looks at humanity and one only at their own families?  I wish some studies would be done and so forth. Because we have to do something right now. We are now considered the others. You know, we are, in this world, all over Europe, except, ironically, not in Germany. I was in Germany, and I spoke to German kids, high school kids in German. I didn't know I knew German. I just got up and I saw they were trying so hard to understand. I had an interpreter, and I didn't understand the interpreter. And I said, Let me try. Let me try. I speak Yiddish fluently and German a little bit like that. Also, I lived three years in Germany, so I didn't speak it, but it must have come into my head. And do you know what they did after my speech? 250 kids? They came over. They apologized. I mean, they're a generation separated. I went to Dachau, where my father was, and there were two women whose parents or grandparents were Nazis, and they said to me, we're dedicating our entire life to preserve this Dachau andcamp and and they they have, they give talks and Everything, because my family killed your family, but they admit it. So right now, Germany has laws against it. But what about the rest of the world? What's happening in America? So I would love to know how the Danish did that. It's a wonderful story. It makes your heart feel good, you know. Thank you for the story. Lise Marlowe:   I would just add, the survivors we have today were the children who survived, right? Most of the adults are gone. And they were the hidden children. And most of them were hidden by non-Jewish people. Actually, all of them were. The Catholic Church, a farm lady, you know, who said, she took kindness on them. So you know, the hidden children were mostly hidden by non-Jewish people in terms of the righteous of the nations. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Thank you both so much for your insights. This has been a really illuminating conversation.  If you missed last week's episode, be sure to tune in for my conversation with AJC Chief Policy and Political Affairs Advisor Jason Isaacson, about legacy of the 2015 Iran Nuclear Deal, the U.S. withdrawal from that deal in 2018, and Iran's dangerous stockpiling of uranium that's getting them closer to nuclear weapons capabilities. You can also listen to our latest episode about the impact of Pope Francis on Jewish-Catholic relations. From April 27-29, 2025, we will be at AJC Global Forum in New York City. Join American Jewish Committee (AJC) and over 2,000 committed activists at the premier global Jewish advocacy conference of the year. After the horrific attack on October 7, 2023, and in this fraught moment for the global Jewish community, escalating threats worldwide underscore the importance of our mission. All who care about the fate of the Jewish people, Israel, and the values of the civilized world must respond now with action, urgency, and resolve. If ever there was a time to stand up and be counted, that time is now. Your voice is needed now more than ever.  If you won't be with us in person, you can tune into the webcast at AJC.org/GlobalForum2025.  

Sheil welcomes PHLY football analyst and Elkins Park legend Fran Duffy and asks him 10 questions about the Eagles, draft, and random life situations. Fran gives his trust meter for current Eagles players who will likely replace guys who departed in free agency, including Kelee Ringo and Moro Ojomo (5:41). Fran gives his draft evaluation for Jahdae Barron, Jaxson Dart, and Derrick Harmon (12:12). Could Malaki Starks end up being this year's Brian Branch (42:28)? How different will the Eagles' offensive scheme be under Kevin Patullo (46:14)? What prospects is Fran much higher on than the consensus draft gurus (1:38:43)? Plus, Fran unleashes his own takes he's saved from the mailbag all season. Email hot takes: Ringerphilly@gmail.com Become a member of our Reddit community: https://www.reddit.com/r/RingersPhillySpecial/ The Ringer is committed to responsible gaming. Please check out rg-help.com to find out more, or listen to the end of the episode for additional details. Hosts: Sheil Kapadia Guest: Fran Duffy Producer: Cliff Augustin Music Composed By: Teddy Grossman and Jackson Greenberg Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

“I appreciate the Rococo for its extravagance and theatricality, as it appeals to my love of kitsch.”- STUART NETSKY      Netsky is a conceptual artist making paintings, mixed media sculptures, prints and other objects. An original voice and artist whose work jumps off the canvas and confronts us with the eclectic absurdity of our image inundated culture. A lover of the theatrical, mixed with his unique version of pop and Romantic master painting.  His work is made in distinct series, creating a pictorial eclecticism that obscures our ability to make sense of the image, acting as a metaphor for the confusion and shifting dichotomies in social interactions.Digital images speak to our technologically driven world and reflect the temporal paradox in pop culture whereby the past is brought to the present, the present to the past. He digitally appropriates art and historical images with those from film and popular culture, juxtaposed with psychedelic and floral patterns and mixes them all together. His influences include Francois Boucher and Gerhard Richter, Jean-Honore Fragonard, Gene Davis, Bridget Riley, Nicholas Krushenick and Jean-Antoine Watteau, among others - the rococo and abstraction, op art and pop art, anime and realism, and the psychedelic all come together, layered, spliced and distorted, materials that evoke the psychosexual. He views his practice as a drag display operating within the  time he has lived in while embracing nostalgia and romanticism for their tender and universal  sensibilities. He received a Master of Art in Art Education from Philadelphia College of Art in 1986 and went on to receive a Master of Fine Art in sculpture from Tyler School of Art, Elkins Park, PA in 1990. Netsky was an Adjunct Professor at The University of the Arts, Philadelphia, and is currently an Adjunct Assistant Professor at Jefferson University. He has had solo exhibitions of his work at Philadelphia's Institute of Contemporary Art, Larry Becker Contemporary Art, Richard Anderson, NYC, Locks Gallery, Bridgette Mayer Gallery, and a retrospective at the Rosenwald Wolf Gallery, University of the Arts. He has also shown in innumerable group shows nationally and internationally. In 1995, he received the Pew Fellowship in the Arts. His work is in the collections of The Philadelphia Museum of Art, The Southern Alleghenies Museum of Art, The Jane Voorhees Zimmerli Art Museum, Woodmere Art Museum, as well as the Johnson and Johnson Collection and many private collections.   

Rabbi Lance J. Sussman, Ph.D., has been a leading rabbi and scholar of the American Jewish experience throughout his long career. Now Rabbi Emeritus of Reform Congregation Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park, PA, he previously served as Rabbi of Temple Concord of Binghamton, NY, and Associate Professor of American Jewish History at Binghamton University (SUNY). Sussman also taught at Princeton, Hunter College, and Rutgers. He recently completed a term as Chair of the Board of Governors of Gratz College in Melrose Park, PA, where he continues to teach.  A prolific writer, Sussman has chosen a selection of his sermons and essays, Portrait of an American Rabbi: In His Own Words (Xlibris US, 2023), to share and chronicle his life as a rabbi and scholar. His thought-provoking sermons and articles provide fresh insights, inspiration, and an historical context to American Judaism at the turn of the twenty-first century and are a true “Portrait of an American Rabbi.” Rabbi Sussman and his wife, Liz Zeller Sussman, have five children and three grandchildren. They reside in suburban Philadelphia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Rabbi Lance J. Sussman, Ph.D., has been a leading rabbi and scholar of the American Jewish experience throughout his long career. Now Rabbi Emeritus of Reform Congregation Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park, PA, he previously served as Rabbi of Temple Concord of Binghamton, NY, and Associate Professor of American Jewish History at Binghamton University (SUNY). Sussman also taught at Princeton, Hunter College, and Rutgers. He recently completed a term as Chair of the Board of Governors of Gratz College in Melrose Park, PA, where he continues to teach.  A prolific writer, Sussman has chosen a selection of his sermons and essays, Portrait of an American Rabbi: In His Own Words (Xlibris US, 2023), to share and chronicle his life as a rabbi and scholar. His thought-provoking sermons and articles provide fresh insights, inspiration, and an historical context to American Judaism at the turn of the twenty-first century and are a true “Portrait of an American Rabbi.” Rabbi Sussman and his wife, Liz Zeller Sussman, have five children and three grandchildren. They reside in suburban Philadelphia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/jewish-studies

Rabbi Lance J. Sussman, Ph.D., has been a leading rabbi and scholar of the American Jewish experience throughout his long career. Now Rabbi Emeritus of Reform Congregation Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park, PA, he previously served as Rabbi of Temple Concord of Binghamton, NY, and Associate Professor of American Jewish History at Binghamton University (SUNY). Sussman also taught at Princeton, Hunter College, and Rutgers. He recently completed a term as Chair of the Board of Governors of Gratz College in Melrose Park, PA, where he continues to teach.  A prolific writer, Sussman has chosen a selection of his sermons and essays, Portrait of an American Rabbi: In His Own Words (Xlibris US, 2023), to share and chronicle his life as a rabbi and scholar. His thought-provoking sermons and articles provide fresh insights, inspiration, and an historical context to American Judaism at the turn of the twenty-first century and are a true “Portrait of an American Rabbi.” Rabbi Sussman and his wife, Liz Zeller Sussman, have five children and three grandchildren. They reside in suburban Philadelphia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/biography

Rabbi Lance J. Sussman, Ph.D., has been a leading rabbi and scholar of the American Jewish experience throughout his long career. Now Rabbi Emeritus of Reform Congregation Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park, PA, he previously served as Rabbi of Temple Concord of Binghamton, NY, and Associate Professor of American Jewish History at Binghamton University (SUNY). Sussman also taught at Princeton, Hunter College, and Rutgers. He recently completed a term as Chair of the Board of Governors of Gratz College in Melrose Park, PA, where he continues to teach.  A prolific writer, Sussman has chosen a selection of his sermons and essays, Portrait of an American Rabbi: In His Own Words (Xlibris US, 2023), to share and chronicle his life as a rabbi and scholar. His thought-provoking sermons and articles provide fresh insights, inspiration, and an historical context to American Judaism at the turn of the twenty-first century and are a true “Portrait of an American Rabbi.” Rabbi Sussman and his wife, Liz Zeller Sussman, have five children and three grandchildren. They reside in suburban Philadelphia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/american-studies

Rabbi Lance J. Sussman, Ph.D., has been a leading rabbi and scholar of the American Jewish experience throughout his long career. Now Rabbi Emeritus of Reform Congregation Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park, PA, he previously served as Rabbi of Temple Concord of Binghamton, NY, and Associate Professor of American Jewish History at Binghamton University (SUNY). Sussman also taught at Princeton, Hunter College, and Rutgers. He recently completed a term as Chair of the Board of Governors of Gratz College in Melrose Park, PA, where he continues to teach.  A prolific writer, Sussman has chosen a selection of his sermons and essays, Portrait of an American Rabbi: In His Own Words (Xlibris US, 2023), to share and chronicle his life as a rabbi and scholar. His thought-provoking sermons and articles provide fresh insights, inspiration, and an historical context to American Judaism at the turn of the twenty-first century and are a true “Portrait of an American Rabbi.” Rabbi Sussman and his wife, Liz Zeller Sussman, have five children and three grandchildren. They reside in suburban Philadelphia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/religion

The Hammer broke out his championship belt this week as a sign of confidence. Looking for victory 254 the Hammer faces off with Don of Elkins Park. 

Our fourth season kicks off with a discussion and update on the Review Choice Demonstration or RCD as it expands into Pennsylvania in June. Our guests are Dr. Alberto Esquenazi, Chief Medical Officer at MossRehab in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania, and a member of the AMRPA Board of Directors; Andrew Baird, Senior Vice President of Public Policy, Legislation, and Regulations at Encompass Health and co-chair of AMRPA's RCD Workgroup; and Joe Nahra, AMRPA Director of Government Relations and Regulatory Policy.  This episode is hosted Kate Beller, AMRPA President of Government Relations. 

At the conclusion of the last episode, in late November of 1965, I was having a happy life as a normal sixteen-year-old eleventh grader. Things were going well and everything seemed right on track.  However, even though I had hardly noticed, a few things happened, which in retrospect could be seen to have been subtle warnings of a coming change. First, my father had told me that he would never be a grandfather and given the fact that my brother's wife was seven months pregnant, that meant that he had less than two months to live.   Then I had unexpectedly ran into an old comic book that had two mysterious stories concerning Abraham Lincoln and death, which I found to be hauntingly disturbing. Again, I paid no real attention to any of these at the time. But two more events were about to happen that would take things to another level.    The first one happened on a Saturday morning as my father and I were sitting in services in a modern synagogue near our home in Elkins Park. He was thinking about changing our affiliation, as we still belonged to our original temple, but it was a twenty-five-minute drive each way. This place was close enough that we could walk, which was a dream come true for him. Toward the very end of every Jewish service, a prayer is recited called the Mourner's Kaddish. It is one of the keystones of the religion, and every congregation does it, all over the world. Interestingly, even though it's done to honor the dead, it never once mentions death or dying. It's a prayer of praise, and the idea is that you always praise God, no matter what happens. As much as your heart may be broken, the teachings say that there's always a pathway that leads to salvation. As we sat there, the rabbi invited the mourners to rise to say Kaddish, and one of the kids from my school stood up, which surprised me. “I know that kid,” I whispered to my father. “I didn't know anybody in his family died.” Suddenly, to my surprise, my father got extremely serious. “This Kaddish prayer is much more important than you know,” he said, speaking in a tone of voice I had never heard before. It was incredibly solemn and I could barely tell it was him.  “I want you to promise me that after I die, you will come to services and say Kaddish for me, every morning, and every night. And that you will do it for the full eleven months.” It was a strange moment for me. I had never heard him that somber before and besides, it didn't make sense - he was only fifty-two. There was no question that I would say Kaddish for him after he died but that was twenty or thirty years down the road. “Of course, I will, Dad,” I said matter-of-factly. “You know I will.” Then the weird got weirder. “We're in synagogue,” he said, still in that extremely somber tone. “We're in front of the Torah and I want you to make a solemn vow to me now. And understand, this is a vow that you are making before God himself.” Now, we were extremely close and nothing like this had ever happened between us. He had never asked me to promise him anything before in my entire life. It seemed like a bizarre request, coming from him at this point in his life, but if this is what he wanted, why not? “OK,” I said, concealing the fact that I was slightly taken aback. “Good,” he said. “Now, repeat after me.” He paused, and then, like a judge administering an oath of office, he slowly recited the vow, one sentence at a time. And I repeated it after him, word for word. “I promise before God, that after you die, I will come to services and say Kaddish for you every morning and night for the full eleven months, so help me God.” When I said the last phrase, he exhaled deeply and slumped forward in his seat, with his eyes closed. He didn't move a muscle and for a second, I thought he might have passed out. It could have been for just an instant or it may have been much longer. I don't remember now.  What I do remember is that there was a deep sense of completeness in that moment. But it wasn't a positive feeling. It felt more like the completeness of the grave.     The next thing I knew, they started singing the last song of the service, which is a happy, cheerful hymn. Whenever I heard that song it always lifted me up, basically because I knew that services were over. My father opened his eyes and looked relieved. He seemed like his normal self again and started singing along with the song. Whatever that strange spell was, it was over. When we got outside, it was a beautiful day and we were both happy as we walked home in the bright sunlight. I always loved that time right after services. I had fulfilled my obligation to God and to my father, and I could finally get on with the carefree part of my weekend.                                                     ***   Then, a short time later, on Monday night, November 29th, I had a deeply disturbing nightmare. Someone was trying to kill me. I was desperately running for my life on a deserted part of the beach in Atlantic City, in front of the Boardwalk. It was daytime, but the atmosphere was dark and foreboding, like a major storm was brewing.  As I ran frantically, the would-be killer kept firing a gun at me. But the assailant, the gun, and the bullets were all invisible. Still, I could hear the loud crack of the gunfire and feel the sharp zing of the bullets as they whizzed past my head and exploded into the sand in front of me. The assassin was hell-bent on my destruction, relentless and getting closer all the time.  In sheer terror, I ran under the Boardwalk to hide.  But once I did, the whole scene immediately changed. Suddenly I was standing in a dark cave and everything was completely silent. Before, when I was running for my life, I heard the panting of my breath, the thumping of my feet on the sand, and the hiss of the bullets as they flew past my head. Now everything was dead silent and absolutely still.  I was standing in front of an old, brown wooden cross, with hundreds of lit candles all around. A monk in a dark-brown, hooded robe stood in front of it. The hood concealed the monk's face entirely. “Behold! The cross of the Crucifixion!” I seemed to somehow hear it inside my mind, but I knew it was coming from the monk. Then oddly, a few complete ideas appeared in my consciousness at the same time. Unlike linear thinking where one thought follows another, they all became clear to me at once.     I knew this was the actual cross from the actual crucifixion and that things were serious. I understood that the cross was a symbol for death, commonly used to mark a grave. And the final message was – “You have come upon it.” I looked at the monk, then back at the cross. Everything seemed frozen in time, like a still picture. The candles had stopped flickering, nothing moved and the stillness seemed to have a presence all its own.   Suddenly, I felt a sharp slap in the middle of my chest, right on my sternum. I gasped in an enormous amount of air and the next thing I knew, I was lying in my bed, in my pajamas. I was in my room, it was morning, and I realized it had all been a dream, a terrible nightmare. My right hand was resting on my chest. I must have stopped breathing in my sleep and then subconsciously slapped myself awake. I was shaken and didn't move for a few minutes. I finally got up, got dressed, and had my breakfast. But as I started driving to school, I was still disturbed. I hardly ever had nightmares and certainly never anything like this before. By the time I pulled into the school parking lot though, I was much more relaxed and decided to let the whole thing go. After all, it was just a bad dream. Maybe it was something I ate. The rest of the day was uneventful, and everything seemed fine. And it would have stayed fine, except that night, Tuesday, I had the same exact nightmare again, right down to the tiniest detail, through to the very end. Now I was rattled. This was more than just a nightmare, it was a recurring nightmare, which made it doubly serious. Then, to my extreme shock and dismay, the next night, Wednesday, I had the exact same dream. Again, I was being chased along the beach by an invisible killer, firing invisible bullets at me. I ducked under the Boardwalk, and it turned into a cave. There was the cross and the monk. Again, I got the same set of inner understandings, ending with the message - “You have come upon it.” And again, I slapped myself awake.   I didn't know what to do. Three straight nights of this recurring nightmare was unnerving. And on top of that, the fact that it had a big cross in it was deeply disturbing. The truth is, I didn't like crosses. They always made me feel uncomfortable. And it wasn't due to any differences in religious beliefs either. It was much deeper than that…a visceral feeling, like getting punched in the stomach.  I felt it the very first time I ever saw a crucifixion statue, which was when I was about six. We lived in the Northeast section of the city, across the street from a church and I was having a catch with a friend. The ball flew over and landed near the front door of the building. When I went to get it, I noticed that the church door was open. The place had always been mysterious to me, so I thought I'd go in and take a peek.   The very first thing I saw in there was a huge cross with a lifelike porcelain statue of a nearly naked man nailed to it. The guy was dead. And there was a crown of sharp thorns stuck into his head, with blood streaming down his face. Thorns! I couldn't believe it. My mother grew rose bushes and always warned me to be careful of them. Still, I got stuck in the finger once. It bled a lot and it really hurt. Seeing a bunch of thorns stuck in this poor guy's head was revolting. The rest of his body was a real horror show too, with whip marks all over it and nails hammered into his hands and feet. It was easily the most gruesome sight I had ever seen in my life. It made me sick to my stomach and I ran out of the church at full speed, crossed the street and collapsed onto our lawn. My head was spinning, and I was out of breath. But the firm ground and familiar smell of the grass made me feel better. After a few minutes, I calmed down. Then, out of nowhere, an unexpected rush of rage came over me. Filled with anger and fury, I thought, “Look what those goddamn bastards did to him!” I was only six, but it wasn't the thought of a child. I felt like I wanted to kill somebody. Crosses always bothered me after that. Later, in college, I studied the symbol's deeper meanings, along with the concepts of sacrifice, grace, forgiveness, the soul's triumph over death, and its eventual reunion with the immortal father. And while they're all ennobling ideas, the cross still reminds me of humanity at its worst, and of things gone horribly wrong. And I still get the same visceral feeling. The jarring symbol had now played a central role in three recurring nightmares, and I decided if it happened again, I would talk things over with my mother. Maybe it was time for me to go see a doctor or something. Well, as far as the ongoing narrative is concerned, this is an ideal place for this episode to stop. All I have to say at this point is – fasten your seat belts! As always, keep your eyes, mind and heart open and let's get together in the next one.

Show SummaryOn this episode, we feature a conversation with Marine Corps Veteran Dennis Miller, a veteran advocate and entrepreneur in the greater Philadelphia area. Dennis and I are going to be having a conversation about the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion, a multi-ethnic unit of predominantly black women who were assigned ot England and France to clear several years of backlogged mail in the European Theater of Operations. About Today's GuestDennis Miller is a South Philadelphia native who grew up in a military family and enlisted in the United States Marine Corps in 1996. Dennis served as an infantryman, marksmanship instructor and small unit leader before being medically retired and separating from active duty in 2009. Upon retirement, Dennis attended Lincoln University, the nation's first HBCU. Shortly after graduation, he began work at the Philadelphia VA Medical Center as a research coordinator on a study focused on pain disparities (SPA Study). Dennis then served as the Wounded Warrior Fellow in the 13th congressional district of PA where he was tasked as the office lead in Norristown and with managing all the military and Veteran casework in the district. As that fellowship ended, Dennis began consulting for public officials, non-profits and private companies, establishing Wheel Dog Industries (WDI), a public policy consulting firm, specializing in veteran and military affairs. Shortly after launching WDI, Dennis founded the Greater Philadelphia Area Veteran Chamber of Commerce, an organization built to increase the economic capacity of the Veteran community in and around Philadelphia.  He sits on various boards, including the Veterans Advisory Panel of the 4th congressional district of PA and Ft. Mifflin on the Delaware. Dennis is a #StandToScholar, having attended the Veteran Leadership Program at the George W. Bush Presidential Institute and is also a Union League Veteran Initiative Fellow. He returned to federal service in 2021 as a Congressional and Intergovernmental Specialist at the Department of Justice. Dennis managed an extensive portfolio and worked relentlessly to build relationships between his office and the Hill. Dennis now works as an External Affairs Liaison at FEMA, responsible for delivery of mitigation messaging to congressional offices, intergovernmental agencies and media outlets. Dennis is a husband and father; his wife, Holly, graciously tolerates his presence and his children, Jacqueline, Jordan and Joshua, make every effort to endure the endless embarrassment their father brings them. Dennis loves dogs and has a Boxer puppy named Adonis that shares the Miller family home in Elkins Park. He is an avid follower of all things Philadelphia sports and is a history buff, specifically surrounding World War II. Dennis serves as an advisor and mentor to young Veterans in the Philadelphia community and is active in various charitable organizations and programs in and around the city.Links Mentioned In This EpisodeWomen of the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion Web SiteThe Six Triple Eight DocumentaryPsychArmor Resource of the WeekThis week's PsychArmor resource of the week is the PsychArmor course Women Who Serve. This course is an overview of the contributions women have made to our military forces. This course is intended for those who want to better understand women's role in our military. You can see find the course here:  https://learn.psycharmor.org/courses/women-who-serve   This Episode Sponsored By: This episode is sponsored by PsychArmor. PsychArmor is the premier education and learning ecosystems specializing in military culture content PsychArmor offers an. Online e-learning laboratory that is free to individual learners as well as custom training options for organizations. Contact Us and Join Us on Social Media Email PsychArmorPsychArmor on TwitterPsychArmor on FacebookPsychArmor on YouTubePsychArmor on LinkedInPsychArmor on InstagramTheme MusicOur theme music Don't Kill the Messenger was written and performed by Navy Veteran Jerry Maniscalco, in cooperation with Operation Encore, a non profit committed to supporting singer/songwriter and musicians across the military and Veteran communities.Producer and Host Duane France is a retired Army Noncommissioned Officer, combat veteran, and clinical mental health counselor for service members, veterans, and their families.  You can find more about the work that he is doing at www.veteranmentalhealth.com  

This book is for flower lovers or nature lovers who would enjoy reading this during summer or in a different seasons of the year. It has religious poems for people who like to meditate. Gloria Niederman lives in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania. She lives with her one sister and her two cats. She dedicates this book to her mother and extends her gratitude to everyone who contributed and helped her made this book possible. Gloria is currently working on another book.

On this week's episode of the Seekers of Meaning TV Show and Podcast, Rabbi Lance Sussman, rabbi emeritus of Reform Congregation Keneseth Israel, Elkins Park, PA, discusses his new book, In His Own Words: Portrait of An American Rabbi. [Read more...] The post Seekers of Meaning 10/13/2023: Rabbi Lance Sussman on his new book, “In His Own Words: Portrait of an American Rabbi” appeared first on Jewish Sacred Aging.

Full Hour | In today's third hour, Dom welcomes in Denny Levinson, Atlantic County Executive, onto the Dom Giordano Program to hear his thoughts on the decision to relocate 60,000 migrants to Atlantic County as the flood at the southern border continues. This comes after New Jersey Governor Phil Murphy deemed the state a ‘Sanctuary State,' enabling this shipment after New York decided that they could not handle the influx. Levinson explains that Atlantic County is one of the poorer counties in the State without the capacity to handle this situation, explaining that he's confident that they wouldn't be able to handle it even if they had the most money in the State. Then, Dom returns to the topic of schools closing due to the extreme heat advisory in Philadelphia, telling why he's against the decision. This leads Dom into a conversation about school district leadership both in Philadelphia and the suburbs, asking how, with inflated budgets, schools continue to find themselves without proper cooling systems. Also, Dom returns to the debate about whether a monument honoring the SS should be removed from Elkins Park, a Philadelphia suburb. (Photo by Getty Images)

Full Hour | In today's second hour, Dom welcomes in Jared McBride, professor at UCLA and historian of Russia, Ukraine, and Eastern Europe in the 20th Century with a focus on mass violence, the Holocaust, interethnic conflict, nationalist movements, and war crimes prosecution. McBride was recently quoted in the Inquirer in an article focusing on a very controversial monument that was erected in Elkins Park 30 years ago recognizing the 14th Waffen Grenadier Division of the Schutzstaffel, a Nazi military branch regularly referred to as ‘The SS.' The argument from supporters is that these alleged Nazi sympathizers aided the United States in the war against the Soviet Union, which McBride dissects as revisionist history. Then, Dom announces that more schools have joined the ranks of those closing due to the heat wave Philadelphia is currently experiencing, taking a call from a teacher who explains the conditions that teachers are having to deal with during the excessive heat. Then, Dom calls upon Joan Cullen to chime in, with the former leader of Pennridge explaining why a half day was necessary for her school district. (Photo by Keystone/Getty Images)

Dom welcomes in Jared McBride, professor at UCLA and historian of Russia, Ukraine, and Eastern Europe in the 20th Century with a focus on mass violence, the Holocaust, interethnic conflict, nationalist movements, and war crimes prosecution. McBride was recently quoted in the Inquirer in an article focusing on a very controversial monument that was erected in Elkins Park 30 years ago recognizing the 14th Waffen Grenadier Division of the Schutzstaffel, a Nazi military branch regularly referred to as ‘The SS.' The argument from supporters is that these alleged Nazi sympathizers aided the United States in the war against the Soviet Union, which McBride dissects as revisionist history. (Photo by Fox Photos/Getty Images)

Patricia Watson has been a long-time student of the Science of Mind philosophy and a Licensed Spiritual Practitioner since 2004. Patricia is also a singer and performs with The Patricia Watson Quintet and Seaside A Cappella Chorus. She is a member of The Center of Peace in Elkins Park, PA. She assists with the Sunday services as a singer, delivering Spiritual Mind Treatments (prayers), meditations and prayers after service and she teaches Science of Mind classes online. Patricia is also the chair of the Education Committee for the center. Patricia works with people to assist them in figuring out a way to improve their lives by using very practical and spiritual methods that help enrich their lives. She is here to assist you in this process of discovering your true self. There are also times when things are going well and all you need is a little encouragement to continue moving forward. I am here to be a witness and coach you during those times. Patricia retired as President of P.W. Associates, Inc. She specialized in Management and Employee Training and Development. She worked with people to create community in organizations. The purpose was to enhance and nourish personal and group performance within organizations. This is a video that was produced in 2021 to highlight Nova Scotia Women Strong. Here's the link - - https://vimeo.com/680686635

In the second part of the Plants, People, Science Horticultural Therapy discussion, Lara follows up on the topic with horticultural therapist Abby Jaroslow who leads the horticultural therapy program at the Alice & Herbert Sachs Therapeutic Conservatory at MossRehab Einstein Medical Center in Elkins Park, PA and is also an instructor at the New York Botanical Gardens. She works with individuals recovering from spinal cord injury, traumatic brain injury, stroke, amputation, and other medical conditions in inpatient and outpatient capacities. Ms. Jaroslow discusses her day-to-day work and the professional and personal journey that led her to a career dedicated to horticultural therapy.For more information on Abby Jaroslow and the MossRehab horticultural therapy program go to https://www.mossrehab.com/horticultural-therapy. Learn more about the American Society for Horticultural Science (ASHS) at https://ashs.org/.HortTechnology, HortScience and the Journal of the American Society for Horticultural Science are all open-access and peer-reviewed journals, published by the American Society of Horticultural Science (ASHS). Find them at journals.ashs.org.Consider becoming an ASHS member at https://ashs.org/page/Becomeamember!You can also find the official webpage for Plants, People, Science at ashs.org/plantspeoplesciencepodcast, and we encourage you to send us feedback or suggestions at https://ashs.org/webinarpodcastsuggestion. To follow Sam Humphrey visit linkedin.com/in/samson-humphrey. Lara Brindisi is on Instagram at @theplantphd and on LinkedIn at https://www.linkedin.com/in/larabrindisi/. Thank you for listening!

In the second part of the Plants, People, Science Horticultural Therapy discussion, Lara follows up on the topic with horticultural therapist Abby Jaroslow who leads the horticultural therapy program at the Alice & Herbert Sachs Therapeutic Conservatory at MossRehab Einstein Medical Center in Elkins Park, PA and is also an instructor at the New York Botanical Gardens. She works with individuals recovering from spinal cord injury, traumatic brain injury, stroke, amputation, and other medical conditions in inpatient and outpatient capacities. Ms. Jaroslow discusses her day-to-day work and the professional and personal journey that led her to a career dedicated to horticultural therapy.For more information on Abby Jaroslow and the MossRehab horticultural therapy program go to https://www.mossrehab.com/horticultural-therapy. Learn more about the American Society for Horticultural Science (ASHS) at https://ashs.org/.HortTechnology, HortScience and the Journal of the American Society for Horticultural Science are all open-access and peer-reviewed journals, published by the American Society of Horticultural Science (ASHS). Find them at journals.ashs.org.Consider becoming an ASHS member at https://ashs.org/page/Becomeamember!You can also find the official webpage for Plants, People, Science at ashs.org/plantspeoplesciencepodcast, and we encourage you to send us feedback or suggestions at https://ashs.org/webinarpodcastsuggestion. To follow Sam Humphrey visit linkedin.com/in/samson-humphrey. Lara Brindisi is on Instagram at @theplantphd and on LinkedIn at https://www.linkedin.com/in/larabrindisi/. Thank you for listening!

As I mentioned in the previous episode, we're going to look at four different excerpts from my memoir, “Wilt, Ike & Me,” and were going to examine some of the subtext in each. The following is the text from the portion of the first excerpt. By way of background, my father had recently moved basketball superstar Wilt Chamberlain into our home for the remainder of the 1965 NBA season.                             *                *                  *   We had fallen into a fairly regular daily routine and Wilt would generally be sleeping when I left for school in the morning. When I got home, he'd be either up in his room or out walking around the neighborhood. He took a lot of walks. We lived in a community called Elkins Park, which is in Cheltenham Township, just north of Philadelphia. It's an upper-middle-class American suburb and has a lot of stretches where you can take some great long walks. Our house was just a few hundred yards away from a large religious institution called Faith Theological Seminary, which was a training facility for future clergymen. But it didn't start out that way. When it was first built at the turn of the century, it was called Lynnewood Hall and was a 110-room Georgian-style palace from the Gilded Age. Finished in 1900, it quickly became known as the American Versailles and was considered the most magnificent estate outside of France. It had luxurious gardens complete with huge fountains and ponds. The home was filled with over two thousand artistic masterpieces, and it was the center of a social network of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the land. There were legendary parties that went on all night, routinely ending with sumptuous sunrise breakfasts. The mansion itself stands in the middle of a thirty-five-acre circle of land, enclosed by a black wrought iron fence. It was about a two-mile stretch from our house, around the estate, and back. Wilt would usually make the trip every day, sometimes going around twice. Now, this was 1965 and in our neck of the woods, black people and white people generally didn't live in the same neighborhood. Things were basically segregated. Cheltenham has changed a lot over the years and is now a model of multicultural living. But back then, things were different, and in our area, all the residents were white. Soon the local grapevine was buzzing with news that a huge black man was regularly seen walking around the neighborhood near the seminary. A short time later, it became common knowledge that this mysterious giant was, in fact, Wilt Chamberlain and that he was living in Ike Richman's house. Before you knew it, nearly everyone claimed they had seen him out on one of his famous walks and had gotten a wink, a wave, or a nod. One day, a school bus slowed down to a crawl, so all the kids could come over to one side and wave at him through the windows. For most people, seeing Wilt up close was an experience they would never forget. Not only was he much bigger than they'd thought, he was also strikingly handsome and extremely charismatic, with an engaging personality. Along with a great sense of humor, he always had a slightly comical expression on his face, like he was in on some kind of inside, private joke. He was just unbelievably cool.  And memories of him never seem to fade.  Although he walked that neighborhood over fifty years ago, people still tell me stories about seeing him. And they're all still smiling. Lynnewood Hall always held something special for Wilt. He was fascinated with its architecture and loved to take it in from all the different angles he would see as he walked around its perimeter. As a world traveler, he had developed quite a discerning eye for art, architecture, and design. And this palace was a real masterpiece. It was built by Peter Widener, who was the embodiment of the American dream. Born in 1834 and starting out as a butcher, he made his first real money selling beef to the Union army during the Civil War. Then, he parlayed his holdings into a huge transportation company that he formed with his partner, William Elkins, the namesake of Elkins Park. He also helped start US Steel and American Tobacco, and ultimately became one of the wealthiest men in American history. Unfortunately, his interests extended into the steamship business as well, and he owned a piece of the White Star Line. The RMS Titanic was one of his investments. He sent the elder of his two sons, George, over to England to celebrate the maiden voyage of the “unsinkable vessel.” George, his wife, and their son occupied one of the premier luxury suites in first class. The night of the iceberg tragedy, the Wideners were hosting a formal dinner party for the ship's captain, who was summoned from it when the collision occurred. Mrs. Widener survived the horrible ordeal, but father and son both went down with the ship. Peter Widener was devastated. He withdrew from the world, retreated into Lynnewood Hall, and never really re-emerged from it. Within a few years, still mourning the loss of his son and grandson, the old man died of a broken heart. But the grand old mansion still stands. Its religious conversion didn't take place until 1952 and it remained a monastery for about twenty-five years until the brotherhood finally closed-up shop. It's been abandoned for decades.   Now, after an age of neglect, with its insides gutted and its once-white limestone faded to a dull brown, it still holds its magnificent place in the sun, perhaps waiting for some dreamer to come along, with inspired visions of restoration and redemption. Wilt knew all about Widener's Titanic connection and the place always got to him. I don't know if it was just plain spooky, or if it spoke to him on some profound level, maybe about our ultimate mortality. Whatever it was, I could always tell when he'd been there from his distant gaze as he walked back onto our street. I had recently gotten my driver's license and one day Wilt decided that we should drive over to a commercial part of North Broad Street, where he could give me some pointers on how to squeeze into a parking space. He said it wasn't all that hard. “I think you're good enough to listen to the radio now,” he commented as we drove along. I turned it on, and soon, the deejay said it was time for the daily double, which was two songs in a row by the same artist. Then Sam Cooke came on singing “Another Saturday Night.” “Oh my God! My theme song,” Wilt exclaimed. “Turn it up! Turn it up!” I made it louder, but it wasn't loud enough for him. “Come on!” he said. I blasted it, and he started singing as we drove along.  He actually had a fine singing voice and had made a record once. He kept snapping his fingers along with the music, right next to my ear. His hand was probably three times the normal size, and every snap was like a firecracker exploding in my skull.   I did my best to concentrate, but this was crazy. I wasn't even a novice, and he was totally distracting. I started getting perturbed, but that was just one part of me. Another part felt like it was the coolest thing in the world. Wilt had a happy smile when the song ended. But then the slow, haunting introduction of “A Change is Gonna Come” came on, and everything changed. It was the final song of Sam Cooke's young life and the mood got somber as Cooke began to sing: “I was born by the river, in a little tent. And just like the river, I've been running ever since. It's been a long, long time coming, but I know, a change is gonna come. Oh yes, it will.” “I knew him,” Wilt said over the music. “He came up to Paradise right before he died and sang a couple of numbers.” The nightclub he owned was called Big Wilt's Smalls Paradise, but whenever he talked to me about it, he just called it Paradise. “They released this right after he got killed,” he said. We fell silent and listened to the rest of the song. When the last verse came on, Wilt closed his eyes and sang along, his soul coming out of his mouth. “It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die. 'Cause I don't know what's up there, beyond the sky. It's been a long, long time coming, but I know, a change is gonna come…Oh yes, it will.” When the song ended, I looked at him in the rearview mirror. His eyes were closed, and he was clearly in another world.                          *                *                  *   So, that's the end of the text from this excerpt. Now let's briefly go into some of the subtext. Again, subtext refers to the deeper meanings behind the words, and of course, it's purely subjective, meaning that everyone will have their own interpretations.  To me, the overall concept behind the text is impermanence. Nothing in our life on earth lasts, including all the people, places and things that make up the realm for us. It's all temporary, and this applies to everyone, no matter who we are or what we do. This idea is symbolically represented by the grand estate, Lynnewood Hall, that was built by the great industrialist Peter Widener, as he was achieving his greatest successes. But his son and grandson were tragically killed in the Titanic disaster and he retreated into seclusion and died soon after. The once world-famous palace of opulence still stands to this day, but it has degenerated into a deserted and  dilapidated ruin. Again, it is only about 350 yards away from the home we lived in when Wilt stayed with us. And there is something haunting about the image of him, taking long walks around the huge perimeter of the estate. Here he was, this 7-foot-tall NBA giant, who at the time was the most recognized celebrity in the entire world, with vast aspirations of his own, circling the former home of one of the greatest business titans in American history. They were both in the same location, separated by a mere 65 years. Each at the peak of their powers and each dominating their worlds. And as different as they may seem, they were in the same basic situation. They both played out their roles, filled with all of their triumphs and tragedies, and eventually they vanished and were no more. It goes without saying that we're all in the same boat on this one. Finally, to drive the point home, the excerpt ends with Sam Cooke singing “A Change is Gonna Come” on the radio. At age 33, the megastar of popular music was also at the peak of his power. But he had recently been shot to death, and watching Wilt sing along to the lyric about being afraid to die was quite a powerful moment for me. So, what's the subtextual takeaway from all this? Again, it's a completely subjective matter and will vary from individual to individual.  For me, the somewhat metaphysical experiences I had surrounding the sudden death of my father forced me to take a deeper look into the mysteries of life and I eventually came into contact with some profound understandings from humanity's Ancient Wisdom Traditions. From that perspective, there is nothing more important in life than true inner growth and nurturing our consciousness is critically important for us to be able to fulfill our highest human potential and genuinely enjoy the gift of life.   And in that regard, understanding the factor of impermanence can become a great ally for us. For once we begin to accept the truth of it, humility, gratitude and appreciation naturally begin to take hold within our intelligence. And that noble trio never fails to illuminate the path to our higher inner ground.   Well that's quite a bit of subtext, so this seems like a good place to end this episode. As always, keep your eyes, mind and heart open, and let's get together in the next one.

Authorities have identified the woman who was shot and killed while she waited at a Dunkin' drive-thru Tuesday morning while her 11-year-old son was in the vehicle. The Montgomery County District Attorney's Office said 35-year-old Rachel King of Elkins Park was shot multiple times while behind the wheel of her SUV. It happened around 7:40 a.m. in Cheltenham Twp. According to investigators, King was driving westbound on Cheltenham Avenue when she turned into the Melrose Shopping Center, then pulled into a line of traffic in the Dunkin' drive-thru lane. The D.A.'s office said a light-colored sedan, possibly a Ford or Mercury, was seen driving directly behind King. District Attorney Kevin Steele said this appears to be a targeted murder. He said the suspect did not try to open the door or communicate with King before firing. King was a teacher at Grover Cleveland Elementary School in the Mastery charter school system in Tioga-Nicetown.. Anyone with information is asked to contact the Cheltenham Township Police Department at 215-885-1600 (extension 400) or Montgomery County Detectives at 610-226-5553. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/leah-gordone/support

Happy Friday Eve! It's the last day of Jenn flying solo in the studio and she's got a really sweet Bee Positive story to share! Plus, so much to talk about in What's the Buzz including a 20 year old from Elkins Park crushing her audition on The Voice! 

NariYella, a talented 20-year-old singer from Elkins Park, PA drew rave reviews for her performance on this week's episode of The Voice. Plus, Taylor Swift did something amazing for one of her fans, Lewis Capaldi's doppleganger was at McGillin's in Old City on St. Patrick's Day, three new biopics/documentaries are in the works, and is Blockbuster making a comeback?!

This week, the PIC are joined by the creator of the Elkins Park Eclectic Talent Show, percussionist Tony "Catastrophe" Flagiello. Tony has had an eclectic career as a touring artist, dance class dummer, Red Bull promoter, and more! Tune in to learn about the coolest new talent show in the area and stay for anecdotes like the time Tony managed the shipping of Gwen Stefani's clothing line or what's it like to be 6'4" in a hip-hop band in Japan. Then, in a rousing Game Called Something, we learn the terrifying extent of Chrissie's caffeine addiction and Steve rants about electric cars. All that and more...LIVE from the 19046! Topics Discussed: - Welcome Tony “Catastrophe” Flagiello - EP Eclectic Talent Show - Tuesdays, 6pm - 9pm at Creekside Market & Tap, Elkins Park, PA - By Elkins Park train station - All ages - Tony the Percussionist - The origin of Tony “Catastrophe” - Six Degrees of Ed Foley - The band was “Mayor Foley and the Broken Promises” - Jenkintown, but not Jenkintown - UArts/Dance Class/Bands - Alex & the Kaleidoscope band (kid's band) - Fat Head Band - Tony's other hosting gigs - A Game Called Something - AGCS: What is a job you would be terrible at? - Tony was in charge of shipping Gwen Stefani's clothing line! - W magazine photo shoot - Quit to tour Japan for hip-hop band. Summer Sonic, 2005-ish - Worked for Red Bull promoting with can car - Chrissie drinks panera liquid crack - AGCS: What kind of car do you drive, and why? - Tony drives a Nissan Murano after getting rear-ended on Broad St. - Chrissie drives an Outlander because of a third row. - Steve drives a Sonic because it's a hatchback and cheap. - Tony used to sell cars. - Where to find Tony - FB: Tony Flagiello - IG: @phillybeatalliance or @tony.flagielo *Opening theme: KUSH, by Tony Flagiello.*

This week's podcast is with Eileen Brill (A Letter In The Wall, Spark Press, May 2022). We discuss how fate dropped her story's inciting incident into her lap during a home renovation, the Facebook group her husband cultivated that wound up propelling her book to Amazon heights, and how she's learned an important lesson – that authors need to embrace being an active cheerleader for their own books.  . Eileen Grace Brill is a painter, writer, and sign language interpreter who grew up outside of Philadelphia and graduated from Carnegie Mellon with a BS in economics. She has written professionally for the restaurant, hotel, and commercial real estate industries. A Letter in the Wall is her first novel, though she has been a writer all her life; beginning at age four, when she wrote a poem (filled with spelling errors!) for her babysitter. Eileen's short story “Christmas Angel” appeared in the international literary magazine Beyond Words in 2021. She and her husband, Eli, raised their sons in her hometown of Elkins Park, Pennsylvania, where they still live, along with their two adopted mutts, Athena and Gaia. To learn more about Eileen, click here.  

Coach Laura Harper shares her journey from growing up in Elkins Park, PA to becoming a Head Coach at the NCAA DI level. She led her high school team to a state championship as a freshman and then went on to lead Maryland to a NCAA National Championship in 2006 as well, she eventually was drafted eighth in the first round of the WNBA Draft and played professionally until 2013. After her playing career ended, Harper joined the coaching ranks at Loyola Maryland (2013-2014) before moving onto High Point (2014-2016) and then returning to the DMV when she joined the coaching staff at George Washington (2016-2017). Coach Harper accepted an Assistant Coach position at Florida (2017-2019) before getting her first job as a Head Coach at Montverde Academy (2019-2020) in the Sunshine State. Coach Harper was named the Head Coach at Coppin State in 2020 and spent two seasons at the helm, Harper and her staff flipped the program by winning 13 more games that they won in her first season under her. She was named the MEAC Coach of the Year in 2022 and on April 20, 2022 was introduced as the Head Coach at Towson. **Sponsored by FastModel** Be sure to check out FastModelSports.com and use the promo code "BOXSCORE" for 15% off your purchase. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/beyondtheboxscore/support

Are there things you wish you could've done differently when buying a home? Realtor.com asked this question on their social pages and we decided to discuss a few comments that stand out to us. Bill recently moved across the bridge to the burbs of South Jersey and shares his newfound "Burb-servations" with us, which may become a new segment (stay tuned)!Did you know one of the greatest surviving gilded age mansions in America is located right here in Philadelphia?! We take a look at Lynnewood Hall, located in Elkins Park, and the fascinating history behind this HUGE property... grab a cold one and join us for happy hour!Featured 5 PM beverages: Sixpoint Brewery "The Crisp", Eagle Rare Bourbon, and Saxton's Cellars Red BlendRealtor.com: 12:30Dina's Lynnewood Hall Download: 26:33To learn more about Lynnewood Hall follow them on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/lynnewood_hall/

Eileen Grace Brill is a painter, writer, and Sign Language Interpreter who grew up outside of Philadelphia and graduated from Carnegie Mellon with a B.S. in Economics. She has written professionally for the restaurant, hotel, and commercial real estate industries. A Letter in the Wall is her first novel, though she has been a writer all her life, beginning at age four when she wrote a poem (filled with spelling errors!) for her babysitter. Eileen's short story “Christmas Angel” appeared in the international literary magazine Beyond Words in 2021. She and her husband Eli raised their sons in her hometown of Elkins Park, Pennsylvania, where they still live, along with their two adopted mutts, Athena and Gaia.Learn more: eileenbrill.com

Onit Zisserman has been a beloved teacher for over 20 years. She has taught at OROT, Ben Porat Yosef, SINAI, Chabad Garden School, Cheder, has been the Jewish Educational Consultant for Federation Early Learning Services and is now the programming coordinator at Adath Jeshurun Preschool in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania. Onit has been organizing and running summer and Pesach day camps for 5 years. During the pandemic lockdown, Morah Onit began a sing-along program for children stuck at home. It attracted over 2,000 viewers for her daily show!   Gems:Expose children to Hebrew at a young age.Nobody is static; we are all on a journey.Find a guide, or mentor who really knows you.Our experience as a student can often be our greatest gift as an educator.When you're an educator, you can bring your interests into the classroom.It's the little things that matter.Everyone needs to hear compliments.Look for ways to collaborate with other educators.Use the power of song to talk about G-d with children.Ask questions.Make information accessible.Encourage open conversation.We can learn from each other.Be a model to others and lead by example.There are learning experiences with everything we do.Talk about what the Torah says.Inspire in your students a love of learning.Taking care of children is an enormous responsibility.Educators need encouragement.Show students how to take responsibility and guide them.We're still molding children.The Torah is not black and white.Allow your students to draw a connection that the stories we're telling come from the Torah.We must never stop learning more.Stop to listen to what your students are saying.Let your children know that they are important.Be honest.The more real-life things we can give children, becomes a part of their entire, holistic learning approach.Everything we learn is from the Torah.There must be a collaboration between the home and school.Shabbat and holidays should we filled with joy.Be kind to yourself also.Support the show (https://www.patreon.com/JewishEducationExperiencePodcast)

This is the second episode in a series of excerpts from my memoir, Wilt, Ike & Me. The last one took place at the end of the summer of 1965 when instead of being able to continue with my sizzling teenage summer romance, I unexpectedly had to drive to Brooklyn with my parents to attend my first funeral. In the chapters that follow in the book, I begin eleventh grade and the 76ers begin the NBA season. The team that my father had personally built over the last two years was now the most powerful team in basketball. It is still looked upon as one of the greatest NBA teams ever and this was a very exciting time for us. But the focus of this series is on the events that took place just before and just following the sudden death of my father. Although it's a sad part of the saga, it does lead up to a rather fascinating conclusion, so my advice is to stick with it through to the end. This episode marks the beginning of some of the strange things that began to happen to me then. And so, the story continues.      Sometimes, things can be going along normally and then all of a sudden, your whole world gets turned upside down. There's no point in dwelling on it, but the truth is, you never really know what's coming around the next corner in this life. Something unexpected can happen and suddenly, you're never the same again. It seems to happen to everyone. One way or another, we each enter into the dark night of the soul. That's exactly where I was heading as the last week of November began. I didn't see it coming. We rarely do. But looking back, there were plenty of signs.  The first one was subtle. My brother's wife was about seven months pregnant. Mike had been the first child in the generation following my father's. Now this new baby would be the first child of the next generation. We were all unbelievably excited. My father and I had driven over to visit them one afternoon. When we got home and pulled into the driveway, I asked him, “So how does it feel now that you're going to be a grandfather?” “What do you mean?” he asked me. “Does it make you feel old or anything?” He didn't respond right away and stared out at the rose garden near the back door. “I'm never going to be the grandfather to this child,” he said matter-of-factly, but in a distant tone of voice. I didn't say anything. “No. I won't be the grandfather,” he repeated. “I'll be the father's father, but never the grandfather.” He used to say quirky things like this all the time. It sounded like he was splitting hairs, and I didn't pay any attention to it.   ***   A second subtle omen came in the form of a comic book. Eleventh grade was turning out to be a great year for me. I was in student council and started thinking about running for school president. Cheltenham was a big high school, with about two thousand students. If I wanted to run, there would be a lot to do, and it was time to give it some serious thought. One night at dinner, I mentioned it to my parents and they both encouraged me. The next day, when I got home from school, an old comic book of mine was on the end table next to my bed. It had stories about each president of the United States. I hadn't seen it in years. My mother kept a few boxes of my childhood things in the basement and had pulled it out after our dinner conversation, probably to inspire me.  I recognized it immediately and remembered there was a strange story about Abraham Lincoln in the middle of it. I flipped to the center and sure enough, there it was, “Lincoln, the Mystic.” It had two parts. The first one was called, “I Am Not Dead – I Still Live.” It showed a letter from a famous psychic that was found in Lincoln's desk after he died. Supposedly, following the assassination, the President's son Robert Todd Lincoln went through all of Lincolns personal papers and destroyed a large amount. But for some reason, he preserved this one particular letter, which is now in the Abraham Lincoln Collection at the Library of Congress.   It was a life-after-death message that was brought to the White House by a psychic who had supposedly channeled it from Edward Baker, a close friend of Lincoln's who had been killed in battle. It was written backwards and had to be read in a mirror. It said - “I am not dead. I still live…I experienced a happy reality - a glorious change by the process called death… Man lives on Earth, to live elsewhere, and that elsewhere is ever present. Heaven and Hell are conditions, not localities.” The fact that Lincoln had a letter from a psychic in his desk was somewhat interesting news. But when I read the second part of the comic book tale, called “The Most Famous Pre-Cognitive Dream in American History,” I found it disturbing.  It showed Lincoln asleep in the White House. A mournful sound wakes him up. He gets out of bed and starts walking toward it. As he gets closer, he realizes that it is the sound of people crying miserably. He enters the East Room and sees a coffin on a stand, guarded by soldiers. “Who is dead in the White House?” he asks one of them. “The President,” comes the reply. “He was killed by an assassin.” The crying gets louder. Lincoln looks in the coffin and sees himself lying there. The shock of it startles him, and he suddenly wakes up and finds himself lying in his bed. He realizes it had all been a bad dream. I looked at the image of Lincoln, staring at himself in the coffin, and for some reason, I thought of my old Davy Crockett comic book and how crushed I felt when I realized my hero was dead. And as I sat on my bed, next to the end table, a quick flash of intense grief rippled through me like a shock wave. I quickly got up and put the comic away in a drawer. But that picture of Lincoln staring at his own dead body was haunting, and the image stayed with me for quite a while.   ***   A more profound sign awaited me on Saturday morning. My father and I were sitting in services in the modern synagogue near our home in Elkins Park. He was thinking about changing our affiliation. We still belonged to Temple Sholom, but it was a long drive each way. This place was close enough that we could walk, which was a dream come true for him. Toward the end of every Jewish service, a prayer is recited called the Mourner's Kaddish. It's one of the keystones of the religion, and every congregation does it, all over the world. Interestingly, even though it's done to honor the dead, it's a prayer of praise and never once mentions death or dying. The idea is that you always praise God, no matter what happens. As we sat there, the rabbi invited the mourners to rise to say Kaddish, and one of the kids from my school stood up, which surprised me. “I know that kid,” I whispered to my father. “I didn't know anybody in his family died.” All of a sudden, my father got extremely serious. “This Kaddish prayer is much more important than you know,” he said.  Then he spoke to me in a strange tone of voice, one I had never heard before. I could barely tell it was him.  “I want you to promise me that after I die, you will come to services and say Kaddish for me, every morning and every night. And that you will do it for the full eleven months and never miss a time.” I had never heard him that somber before, and it didn't make sense. I was definitely going to say Kaddish for him after he died, but that was twenty or thirty years down the road - he was only fifty-two. “Of course, I will, Dad,” I said matter-of-factly. “You know I will.” Then the weird got weirder. “We're in the synagogue now,” he said, still in the same somber tone. “There's the ark and we're in front of the Torah. I want you to make a solemn vow to me now. And understand, this is a vow made before God.” Now, we were very close and nothing like this had ever happened between us. He had never asked me to promise him anything before in my life. “OK,” I said, somewhat taken aback. It seemed like an old-fashioned idea, but why not? “Good,” he said. “Now, repeat after me.” He paused, and then, like a judge administering an oath of office, he recited the vow, one sentence at a time. And I repeated it after him, word for word. “I promise before God, that after you die, I will come to services and say Kaddish for you every morning and night for the full eleven months. And never miss a time.” When I said the last phrase, he exhaled deeply and slumped forward in his seat, with his eyes closed. The next thing I knew, they started singing Adon Olam, which is the very last song of the service. It's a happy, cheerful hymn. My father opened his eyes and looked relieved. He seemed like his normal self again and started singing along. Whatever that strange spell was, it was over. When we got outside, it was a beautiful day. On the walk home, we were both happy, I always loved that time after services on a Saturday. I had fulfilled my obligation to God and my father and could get on with the carefree part of my weekend.

Rachael Simon is an educator, wife, and mother of two daughters from the Elkins Park suburb of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She has taught both religious and secular topics in non-denominational, Orthodox, and Reform Jewish settings. Rachael is currently the Religious School Director for Congregation Kol Ami in Elkins Park, a Reform congregation. She holds a master's degree in Jewish Education from Gratz College as well as a bachelor's degree in International Politics from Georgetown University. Born to a Jewish father and a Catholic mother, Rachael was raised Jewish in the Reform movement before undergoing an Orthodox conversion.   Join the WhatsApp Group: https://chat.whatsapp.com/Lj6a5VZhRnBKCumXLE43QK   Contact Franciska- franciskakay@gmail.com   I love hearing from you!

Inspired by Cycladic fertility icons, early Byzantine paintings, and folk art, Robin Grebe's figures serve as a canvas or setting for her narratives. Through these elegant and often autobiographical cast glass busts, she explores the universal quest to understand the directions our lives. Imagery from the natural world represents peaceful beauty, but also speaks to uncharted territory and the unknown. Using birds and plants as metaphors for mythic flight, spirituality, the intangible, and nature's uncontrollable forces, Grebe transforms her personal search into a shared exploration. She says: “I have always worked figuratively; in some ways my sculptures are autobiographical. They help me process my thoughts, ideas and changes in life. The sculptures usually incorporate images from the natural world. These images serve as a metaphor to both our fragility as well as our resilience in our personal/emotional/spiritual world and in the larger world itself.” Born in Newark, New Jersey, in 1957, Grebe earned her MFA in Ceramics/Glass from Tyler School of Art, Elkins Park, Pennsylvania and BFA in Ceramics from the Massachusetts College of Art in Boston, Massachusetts. She has taught glass and ceramics at the Massachusetts College of Art and Pilchuck Glass School, among others. Her exhibitions and collections include the Cleveland Museum of Art, the Hokkaido Museum of Modern Art in Japan, the Morris Museum in Morristown, New Jersey, the Taft Museum in Cincinnati, Ohio, the Lowe Museum, Miami, Florida, and the Tucson Museum of Art in Tucson, Arizona, to name a few. One of the things Grebe loves most about making her sculptures is working wet clay to make her sculptural form. She builds a plaster mold around that clay form, and once it has hardened, peels the clay out of the mold and fills the cavity with chunks of colored glass. It then gets fired in a kiln to melt the glass into the cavity. Once cooled the mold is chipped off the glass sculpture. The glass is then ground, sanded and polished into its final form.  Using cast glass, ceramic glazes, and transparent enamels, Grebe creates her monolithic and allegorical human forms, which seem simultaneously fragile and strong. To her, they illustrate the paradoxes of human life. Recent exhibitions of this work include a 2019 solo show at Habatat Gallery, West Palm Beach, Florida, and the group show, In Her Voice: Influential Women in Glass, held at the Sandwich Art Museum, Sandwich, Massachusetts, in 2021.   

After a weird year like we had in the 2020-21 school year, we wanted to take some time to showcase the things that went better than you thought they'd go. We reached out to our PBISApps community and asked you to submit your wins. Some stories appeared in our Teach by Design article this month; the rest you'll hear in this episode. We sat down with three schools from across the country to hear more about how this year didn't stop them from creating community and building relationships in spite of the distance. ‍Horace Mann Elementary School, Oak Park, IL: Linda Chrystall shared how she modified their school's Check-in Check-out point card to work better for students engaged in distance learning.Elkins Park School, Elkins Park, PA: Shareese Nelson, Stephen Suplick, and Brian Wallace gave us examples of all the ways they went above and beyond to encourage their students to feel connected as part of the larger school community.Thurston Middle School, Springfield, OR: Cindy Bonar, Andy Price, and Brandi Starck talked about the weekly show they started during the pandemic as a way to jumpstart relationships between students and staff.We want to thank everyone who submitted success stories from this past year. We hope these experiences inspire you to try new things to create the kind of school where every student feels engaged, supported, and excited to learn.

Diane Ehrich owns Collins Nursery, a small retail nursery in Glenside, Pennsylvania which specializes in container-grown native plants from the Mid-Atlantic region. The nursery was founded by John Collins, a Philadelphia landscape architect, and educator. Diane has continued to fulfill and expand John's mission of propagating and providing native plants to homeowners, non-profits, and local townships. Diane studied art at Rhode Island School of Design and Boston University and has an MA in art education from New York University. She draws on her experience as a teacher to help educate customers about the benefits of native plants. An enthusiastic gardener, Diane went back to school at Temple University/Ambler to study horticulture in 2004 and soon after, went to work helping John in his backyard nursery. She has worked as a gardener, at a local garden center, and has done ongoing volunteer work with the Friends of High School Park, a native plant restoration project in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania. In addition, Diane is a botanical artist and a member of the Philadelphia Society of Botanical Illustrators and the American Society of Botanical Artists. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/plantatrilliontrees/support

As these hard and heartbreaking days of COVID-19 drag on and news outlets announce the numbers like the countdown to a rocket launch, life as we've known it has entirely changed. We are forced to create new routines and new ways of being. We are reordering our lives with greater austerity in mind. The specter of illness, death and loss weighs upon the world and our souls. Many people are in isolation and longing for human comfort. Others are surrounded by family and longing for a break. Some people have rediscovered quiet joys, like taking a walk, planting flowers, or doing a puzzle. Others go from screen to screen, working or seeking distraction, entertainment, community, news and solace. Many are afraid to think about tomorrow. Will we escape the sickness? Will we have the financial means to get by? Will the economy rebound? What about the job market? What will become of the restaurants we enjoyed, the shops and small businesses we counted on? At American Blossom, we employ dozens of people at our USA manufacturing plants in Georgia and South Carolina and our offices in Pennsylvania. Like people everywhere, our emotions today are mostly sad and worried. But we've chosen to lean into these difficult times and work harder than ever to earn your trust and your business. There's never been a greater need for ample sleep that restores the body and refreshes the mind. Sufficient sleep is essential for good health including a well-functioning immune system. Our crisp, organic cotton sheets will help you sink into a restful, beautiful sleep. And because they are made in the USA, you'll be supporting farms, small business and jobs here at home. There has never been a better time or reason to invest in durable, comfortable, well-made sheets that are proven to fit all of the most popular mattress brands. When worries keep me up at night or greet me in the morning, I actively practice the habit of gratitude. I think of a few things to appreciate in that moment in time and jot them down in a bedside journal. Even on the hardest days when it seems that every sphere of my life is imploding in some way, I always find something to be grateful for. Simple stuff like chocolate, music, and stinky kisses from my dog that make me laugh. Big stuff, like people I love. Employees I admire. Heroes who sacrifice to keep us healthy or free. Although COVID-19 has changed the world at least for now, I choose to consider how much can still be good. I ask my children and grandchildren to appreciate their blessings—and literally to count them. I ask my coworkers to support each other through simple kindness, empathy, or humor. I ask my friends to support the small businesses that meet our needs and enrich our communities. And to our valued customers, my humble suggestions:  Be mindful, be playful and sleep beautifully. — writes Janet Wischnia Valeria interviews Janet. Janet Wischnia is the founder of American Blossom Linens and one of the owners of Thomaston Mills, the manufacturer of American Blossom Linens. Janet grew up in Elkins Park, PA and lives in the same neighborhood today. She attended the University of Pennsylvania and received her MBA from Drexel University. Since she was 4 years old, Janet has been involved with the family business started by her grandfather, who opened their first storefront on South Street, Philadelphia in 1931! Janet learned from the ground up about the textile industry, from manufacturing to marketing and even sweeping the floors. American Blossom provides linens for hospitals and hotels across the nation and now sells direct-to-consumer after Janet noticed the need for sustainable products, impeccably made in the USA. She's dedicated to making eco-friendly products that last for years and never go out of style. American Blossom Linens are the ONLY providers of American-made 100% organic cotton sheets sold in the nation. To learn more about Janet Wischnia please visit his website: https://americanblossomlinens.com/ OFFER: Use coupon code QUEST20 for 20% off of buyers' first order! For Intro-free episodes:  https://www.patreon.com/aquestforwellbeingpodcast Podcast Page:  https://fitforjoy.org/podcast   — This podcast is a quest for well-being, a quest for a meaningful life to the exploration of fundamental truths, enlightening ideas, insights on physical, mental, and spiritual health. The inspiration is Love. The aspiration is to awaken new ways of thinking that can lead us to a new way of being, being well.

Scott Wilder from Save the Children joins The Tim DeMoss Show again today to discuss WFIL and Save the Children's new joint initiative, "COVID-19 Emergency Relief Day of Hope."  Currently, 30 million U.S. children are on the breakfast/lunch program nationwide. And 12 million of those have not had access to it due to COVID-19-related challenges. WFIL & Save The Children invite you to help bridge the gap! A $100 one-time gift will provide breakfast, lunch, and dinner for one child for 10 full days. Your gift also helps provide educational benefits including supplies! Whatever amount you contribute will be greatly appreciated & put to very good use! And for TODAY ONLY, if you call 800-520-2649, your donation will be matched tenfold. Special thanks to some recents donors from today: Rebecca in Mt. Laurel, NJ Bruce in Elkins Park, PA Charles in Delran, NJ Carol in Palmyra, NJ Thanks very much from WFIL & Save The Children! Get on board at wfil.com, or click the link here! Make sure to tune in live weekdays 4-5pm ET on AM 560 WFIL! See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Monday, July 6 9:30a.m.: ACB Welcome Show 10:00a.m.: Invocation: Rev. Peter Heide, Baraboo, WI Pledge of Allegiance: JPMorgan Chase Leadership Fellows: Regina M. Brink, Sacramento, CA; Sajja Koirala, Honolulu, HI; and Meryl Ann Shecter, Windsor Mill, MD 10:10a.m.: ACB Business: ACB Sponsor Recognitions: Margarine Beaman, Advertising and Sponsorship Coordinator, Austin, TX Diamond Sponsor Presentation: Google; Eve Andersson, Director of Accessibility at Google, Mountain View, CA Constitution and Bylaws: John Huffman, Indianapolis, IN ACB Angel Presentation: John Granger (1945 – 2019), Alabama Presiding Officer: Mark Richert, First Vice President, Arlington, VA 10:45a.m.: Member and Affiliate Relationships: Cindy Hollis, Membership Services Coordinator, Brooklyn Center, MN 11:10a.m.: Scholarship Presentations: Opening Remarks by Denise Colley, ACB Scholarship Co-Chair, Lacey, WA Introduction of Scholarship Winners: Maureen Hayden, College Station, TX, Texas A&M University, College Station, TX (Paul and Ellen Ruckes Scholarship) Katrina Santorelli, Bethlehem, PA, Salus University, Elkins Park, PA (William Corey Scholarship) Kevin Cohen, Hewlett, NY, Binghamton University, Binghamton, NY (James R. Olsen Memorial Scholarship) Steven Gnyp, Portland, OR, Portland State University, Portland, OR (ACB of Oregon Scholarship) 11:30a.m.: Break 11:45a.m.: Presentation of Vernon Henley Media Award: Penny Reeder, Board of Publications, Montgomery Village, MD; Comments from Don Hardy and Dana Nachman, Mary Celenza; Executive Producers, Pick of the Litter, Oakland, CA 12:00p.m.: News and Ongoing Progress at NLS: Karen Keninger, Director, National Library Service for the Blind and Print Disabled, Washington, DC Presentation of the Robert S. Bray Award: Debbie Trevino, ACB Awards committee co-chair, Newark, DE 12:25p.m.: International Guest: Martine Abel Williamson, Treasurer, World Blind Union, Auckland, New Zealand 12:50p.m.: Door Prizes and Announcements

Good afternoon everyone and welcome to another edition of The Avid Reader. Today our guest is Megan Angelo, author of Followers, her first novel. Megan is another fellow Pennsylvanian. It seems like all authors are now. From Madeline Miller, to Kiley Reid, Liz Moore, Vikram Pall-el-kar, and a bunch more. Then Ann Patchett who writes about my home town of Elkins Park. It’s wonderful. Megan’s writing has appeared in NYT, WSJ, Glamour and Elle. Well worth going to the last two and taking a look at what she has written. Fascinating how her work mirrors, in part, the very topic that she concentrates on in Followers. Followers is a novel that at first seems like science fiction, fantasy, alternate history or an imaginative exercise in social commentary. But it is not that at all. It is us. It is real. It is now. It is scary and for old geezers like me, who are behind the wave now, although I pride myself on being pretty aware of what is going on, old geezers may not understand what the hell this book is about, but it is a primer that will wake them up to what the hell is going on. After Trump and for the next 2 years I kept saying “you can’t make this stuff up”. Now I can’t say that anymore because it is so far beyond that. It is a nightmare. That’s why SNL can’t parody Trump anymore. It is beyond parody. Anyway, I am beginning one of my rants, so before I take up anymore time, I will let Megan tell us about Orla and Floss from 2015 to 2051. A 2051 that seems too real. Welcome Megan and thanks so much for joining us today. Sorry about going off like that in the intro.

Good afternoon everyone and welcome to another edition of The Avid Reader. Today our guest is Megan Angelo, author of Followers, her first novel. Megan is another fellow Pennsylvanian. It seems like all authors are now. From Madeline Miller, to Kiley Reid, Liz Moore, Vikram Pall-el-kar, and a bunch more. Then Ann Patchett who writes about my home town of Elkins Park. It’s wonderful. Megan’s writing has appeared in NYT, WSJ, Glamour and Elle. Well worth going to the last two and taking a look at what she has written. Fascinating how her work mirrors, in part, the very topic that she concentrates on in Followers. Followers is a novel that at first seems like science fiction, fantasy, alternate history or an imaginative exercise in social commentary. But it is not that at all. It is us. It is real. It is now. It is scary and for old geezers like me, who are behind the wave now, although I pride myself on being pretty aware of what is going on, old geezers may not understand what the hell this book is about, but it is a primer that will wake them up to what the hell is going on. After Trump and for the next 2 years I kept saying “you can’t make this stuff up”. Now I can’t say that anymore because it is so far beyond that. It is a nightmare. That’s why SNL can’t parody Trump anymore. It is beyond parody. Anyway, I am beginning one of my rants, so before I take up anymore time, I will let Megan tell us about Orla and Floss from 2015 to 2051. A 2051 that seems too real. Welcome Megan and thanks so much for joining us today. Sorry about going off like that in the intro.

Good afternoon everyone and welcome to another edition of The Avid Reader. Brought to you by my independent book store, Wellington Square Bookshop. Ann’s is Parnassus Books in Nashville. So our guest is Ann Patchett who really needs no introduction, but I’ll give one anyway. Anne has written seven novels including The Magician’s Assistant, State of Wonder and of course Bel Canto. She’s been the recipient of the Orange Prize, The PEN Faulkner award. And have been NYT Notable books, and so many awards. Ann’s latest novel is The Dutch House, which will be released tomorrow! But if you want to be one of the first ones to get a signed copy and to hear part of the book and ask questions about it, you can hear all about it from Ann herself at the Free Library downtown tomorrow, Tuesday the 24th at 7:30. And if you miss that you can see her at Congregation Keneseth Israel (where I was Bar Mitzvah and also ejected with my brother from Saturday services in front of 2000 people) on Wednesday the 25th from 9:30-11:30 in the morning. The Dutch House, as in many of Ann’s work, explores the intricacies and emotional upheavals of a family. The story is set in Elkins Park about 30 minutes from where I sit and is very nostalgic for me. I have many connections with that place and that time. But the book’s real main character is a house, an extraordinary house with a history that suffuses, permeates the lives of everyone we meet. And with that, welcome Ann and thanks so much for joining us today.

Good afternoon everyone and welcome to another edition of The Avid Reader. Brought to you by my independent book store, Wellington Square Bookshop. Ann’s is Parnassus Books in Nashville. So our guest is Ann Patchett who really needs no introduction, but I’ll give one anyway. Anne has written seven novels including The Magician’s Assistant, State of Wonder and of course Bel Canto. She’s been the recipient of the Orange Prize, The PEN Faulkner award. And have been NYT Notable books, and so many awards. Ann’s latest novel is The Dutch House, which will be released tomorrow! But if you want to be one of the first ones to get a signed copy and to hear part of the book and ask questions about it, you can hear all about it from Ann herself at the Free Library downtown tomorrow, Tuesday the 24th at 7:30. And if you miss that you can see her at Congregation Keneseth Israel (where I was Bar Mitzvah and also ejected with my brother from Saturday services in front of 2000 people) on Wednesday the 25th from 9:30-11:30 in the morning. The Dutch House, as in many of Ann’s work, explores the intricacies and emotional upheavals of a family. The story is set in Elkins Park about 30 minutes from where I sit and is very nostalgic for me. I have many connections with that place and that time. But the book’s real main character is a house, an extraordinary house with a history that suffuses, permeates the lives of everyone we meet. And with that, welcome Ann and thanks so much for joining us today.

On this podcast, we interview White Pines Productions artistic director Benjamin Lloyd. Lloyd, a B.A. and M.F.A. Yale drama grad, has been a fixture as a Philadelphia actor for decades. He founded White Pines in 2009. The company operated out of the Elkins Park Gilded Age mansion Elkins Estate until 2012.Since then, the company has moved to a storefront in Elkins Park's bustling business district, where they offer classes to adults, children, and people with special needs; produce original work; host a long- and short-form improv-based dinner theater with a three-course meal; host the Bright Invention improv ensemble; and offer off-site training programs. Here, Lloyd discusses his new model for arts organizations, the role companies like his serve in their neighborhoods, and the guiding philosophy behind White Pines's "community-based performing arts studio."

On this week's "Boomer Generation Radio" program, Rabbi Address interviews David Friedman, a cancer survivor and marketing director of Progressive Health Care Services, an Elkins Park home healthcare agency. Read more about David's background in his LinkedIn profile. Boomer Generation Radio airs on WWDB-AM 860 every Tuesday at 10 a.m., and features news and conversation aimed at Baby Boomers and the issues facing them as members of what Rabbi Address calls “the club sandwich generation.” You can hear the show live on AM 860, or streamed live from the WWDB website. Subscribe to the RSS feed for all Jewish Sacred Aging podcasts. Subscribe to these podcasts in the Apple iTunes Music Store.