A little Jewish geography in Greece

In December of 1983, after our wedding at Temple Emanuel, in Andover, Massachusetts, Betsey and I enjoyed a brief honeymoon before returning home to Los Angeles.  While she worked as a computer systems analyst, I pursued further graduate studies at Hebrew Union College. We planned to enjoy a lengthier honeymoon in July of 1985, before accepting new positions in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Although both of us had traveled widely in Europe, we had not been to Greece.  After we reserved spaces on a cruise to several Greek islands and a bus tour to archaeological sites, many of our relatives and friends became alarmed.  On June 14, 1985, two Lebanese terrorists had hijacked a TWA airplane at Athens airport and held its passengers hostage for 17 days.  One American was murdered. The crisis did not end until Israel released 435 Lebanese and Palestinian prisoners.

Were we nuts to fly to Athens?

Somehow, Betsey and I were able to enjoy our mini-odyssey.  Needless to say, we included a few Jewish sites on our trip, such as Athens’ Jewish museum and a nearby cemetery.

Over the years, our favorite European destination became Italy, but we still thought about returning to Greece.

Our son, Michael, had studied in Athens during the fall semester of his junior year of college, but we decided to visit him in Madrid, where he spent his spring semester.  We visited him two more times there, when, later, he spent two years teaching English there.

Betsey and I did not visit him when he later worked in Nepal, India and Sri Lanka, but we remained intrigued by his senior thesis, a study of the issues surrounding the repatriation of cultural treasures, including the Elgin Marbles, for which a new museum would be built in Athens.

IN MARCH OF THIS year, Betsey and I decided to celebrate a milestone birthday with my twin brother, Theo, and his wife, Susan, by returning to Greece.

Shortly after our October departure, another terrorist attack occurred.  This was, of course, Hamas’ massacre of Israelis.

When boarding our relatively small cruise ship near Athens, we Goodwins were not aware of other Jews among the mostly American, Canadian and British guests.  Passengers requiring kosher food would not have selected this voyage.

On Friday, Oct. 13, we noticed an announcement in the ship’s daily schedule of activities: A Shabbat service, presumably led by a layperson, was available in a small lounge.  Given the calamity in Israel, we felt commanded to participate.

Only two other Jews gathered with us.  One man was from suburban Philadelphia, the other from Hollywood, Florida.  Their wives chose not to attend.  Theo, who in some sense inspired my renewed dedication to Reform Judaism during our 30s, led the service, which employed a long-outmoded Reform siddur provided by the ship.  Nevertheless, the six of us felt relieved, replenished and rewarded by our prayers.

The cruise staff had arranged for Jews participating in this service to receive a bottle of red wine and a Greek roll resembling a challah, but, quite mysteriously, the roll had already been nibbled at one end.

AS WE CONCLUDED our service, and began to depart for dinner, a woman passenger arrived in the lounge.  She explained that she had enjoyed a few bites of that roll.  When the seven of us introduced ourselves to one another, the woman, also from suburban Philadelphia, mentioned that one of her traveling companions had grown up in Rhode Island.  I was, of course, curious to meet her, and this happened the next day, when we also met her husband.

No, Sandra Paley Lichtenstein was not related to Roy Lichtenstein, one of my favorite Pop artists. Rather, she explained that she and her identical twin sister, born the very same year as Theo and I, had grown up in Providence’s East Side.  Indeed, the Paley sisters had graduated from Lincoln School, from which our daughter, Molly, also graduated.

Then Sandra asked if we belonged to a synagogue.  When I explained that we’ve been active members of Temple Beth-El since moving to Providence in 1987, she asked if we were acquainted with Fred Franklin, a former president.  Yes, of course!

Sandra’s twin, Linda, who passed away in 2014, was Fred’s wife and the mother of their children, Brian and Alison.  What a splendid coincidence – or a true example of Jewish belonging.

We Goodwins and the Lichtensteins posed for a photo, which, thanks to a dear Providence friend, Jill Tobak, also a former Beth-El president, was forwarded to Fred.

DURING OUR CRUISE, we made special efforts to visit two Greek synagogues: one on the island of Rhodes, another on Crete, Greece’s largest island.  We were somewhat surprised when we encountered other Jewish passengers from our ship, and possibly other cruise ships, who had made a special effort to see these shrines.  We felt deeply rewarded by such Jewish explorations, especially as the crisis in Israel worsened.

Toward the very end of our cruise, while riding a small tender back to our ship, Betsey began a conversation with a couple from Cincinnati.  When I later jumped in, I mentioned to Lee and Shannon Carter that my mother had been a fifth-generation Jew from Cincinnati and her family owned and operated a printing business, S. Rosenthal, for five generations.  Then Lee and Shannon explained that they were quite friendly with some Rosenthal cousins who had made the lead gift to build Cincinnati’s Museum of Contemporary Art.

I could have gone on about my connections to Hebrew Union College, which had been established in Cincinnati in 1875.  Indeed, my mother’s aunt, Evelyn Rosenthal, married, Edgar Magnin, a San Franciscan who was ordained at HUC in 1914, and the couple settled in Los Angeles. Thus, without this Cincinnati connection, our mother would never have met our father (or perhaps vice versa).  And Evelyn and Edgar Magnin would not have become our third set of grandparents.

ON OUR BRIEF Greek journey, we Goodwins found several other Jewish insights and rewards.  Allow me to mention one more.  After visiting a major Roman archaeological site, I thanked our Christian guide for including a few Jewish references.  He hugged me!

Minutes later, when visiting an archaeological museum, he pointed out an extremely unusual subject for a Roman relief sculpture: Abraham’s impending sacrifice of Isaac.  For our guide too, this was a symbol of faith.

GEORGE M. GOODWIN, of Providence, is the editor of Rhode Island Jewish Historical Notes.