|photo: T. Krever|
It all started when we asked if the synagogue was a church or a synagogue or both. He told us the whole history, plus everything else. Growing up on St. Marks, he had stories.
"I'm 71 now, was 10 then, so you know how long ago that was."
Jewish math, I told the Mariner later.
We stood on the corner of 7th and First, complaining about everything, arguing about the important stuff and gossiping about the two old men brothers who had run the 9th Street Bakery. He knew them. They had curly hair.
And finally with good-byes, worried that we had turned our backs on where we all came from, an urgent invitation even if the synagogue was Orthodox, we should come in, everybody was there, it was as beautiful as it had been 90 years ago.
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