O pinion
One Year of the Pandemic at Jewish Federation
BY DAVID ADELMAN AND GAIL NORRY
A LITTLE MORE than a year
ago, the world as we knew it
changed. Food insecurity rose to
its highest numbers ever, individ-
uals lost their jobs, businesses
shut their doors, children
stopped attending school in
person, and physical distancing
became the norm. Parents trans-
formed into teachers overnight
and dining room tables became
makeshift offices. COVID-19
was declared a global pandemic
and economic shutdowns spread
across the country along with
fear, uncertainty and loss.

From Passover to Purim,
we’ve celebrated a year’s worth
of holidays over Zoom. And
whether it be book clubs or
birthdays, hundreds of events
have taken place on digital
platforms from the comfort of
our living rooms and pajama
pants. At times the isolation
felt lonely, yet our creativity,
innovation and openness to
new approaches to gathering
made it possible to actually
never be alone if we so chose.

We are grateful for the oppor-
tunities we’ve had to enjoy each
other’s company together, yet
apart. We are most grateful
to local agencies, synagogues
and programs that pivoted
their approaches and afforded
us opportunities to remain
connected and build Jewish life
in a new way. Such efforts have
been integral to our mental
health and ability to adapt to
this strange new world. We have
proven we are stronger together.

Together, we delivered food
packages to high-risk individ-
uals, helped low-income
families access the technology
required to learn from home,
gifted PPE to essential workers
and so much more. We have
stood hand in hand with Jewish
agencies throughout the region
and in Israel and faced the sea
of challenges with resilience
and determination. So many
have stepped in to help those in
need. We have all done our part
to carry the light, and we could
not be more proud of how our
communities have handled
these challenging times. Today,
the light of everything we have
accomplished together shines
brightly. With that in mind, we look
to the year ahead with hope
and optimism. Vaccinations
continue to be dispensed,
our children have returned
to in-person school, the
weather is getting warmer and
businesses continue to reopen.

With so much to look forward
to, we eagerly await the days
when we can once again hug
our loved ones living outside
our homes, share meals with
extended family and worship as
a community in the same room.

We will build on the lessons
we’ve learned over the past year
to continue to stand united
and ensure a vibrant Jewish
future. By continuing to work
with local agencies, organiza-
tions and synagogues, we will
help our community acquire
whatever it needs to grow and
thrive. And as we turn the
corner to change once again,
we must always remember the
lessons we learned about the
importance of caring for each
other, connecting with each
other and ensuring that the
most vulnerable among us are
cared for.

We look forward to the
brighter days ahead and to the
next time we can gather with
each of you. l
David Adelman and Gail Norry are
the board co-chairs of the Jewish
Federation of Greater Philadelphia.

Was a Jewish Muscleman the Inspiration for Superman?
BY TZVI SINENSKY
WITH “SUPERMAN and Lois”
premiering last month on the
CW network, it’s a good time
to recall that Superman was
the 1938 brainchild of Jewish
creators Jerry Siegel and Joe
Shuster. Many have suggested
that the pair were inspired by
their Jewish backgrounds to
create Superman as a hero who
defended vulnerable popula-
tions from their enemies.

But there is reason to suspect
that a more specific encounter
may have inspired them.

The years 1923 and 1924 saw a
phenomenon in the United States:
18 MARCH 18, 2021
tours by Siegmund Breitbart,
known as “The Jewish Superman,”
across North America. Breitbart
performed in Cleveland and
Toronto, Siegel and Schuster’s
respective hometowns.

While it is nearly impossible
to prove — there are no records
of Siegel or Shuster mentioning
Breitbart — there is reason to
surmise that the strongman
may have served as something
of an inspiration. He wore a
cape and was advertised as
capable of stopping speeding
locomotives. Who was this man Breitbart,
lauded during his lifetime as
the strongest man in the world,
The Iron King, Jewish Hercules
and a modern-day Samson?
Siegmund “Zishe” Breitbart
was born to a family of
locksmiths in Lodz (now
Poland, then Russia) in 1893. In
his autobiography, he reports
that his family discovered his
unusual strength when, at age
3, he extricated himself from
beneath an iron bar that had
fallen on him in his father’s
store. By 4 he was casting iron
in his family shop.

His early years were diffi-
cult. Expelled from a number
of religious schools for using
force against fellow students,
Breitbart was captured by the
Germans while serving in the
Russian army during World War
I. After the war he remained
in Germany, subsisting on the
money he earned by performing
feats of strength at local markets.

It was at one such 1919 perfor-
mance that the German Circus
Busch, famed for featuring
Harry Houdini and other top
performers, spotted Breitbart
and brought him on board to
perform its opening act.

Breitbart’s strongman
routine, which had him
dressed in hypermasculine
costumes such as a Roman
centurion, skyrocketed in
popularity, and he quickly was
moved from sideshow to main
event. Notwithstanding the
fast-rising tide of anti-Semi-
tism in Germany and Austria,
Breitbart, who often wore the
JEWISH EXPONENT
Star of David while entering
the circus ring, achieved a
mass Jewish and non-Jewish
following in Berlin, Vienna,
Prague and Warsaw.

Breitbart’s act was based on
his early experience working
with iron. He bent rods into
horseshoes, bit through
chains and pounded nails
into boards with his fist. He
could draw chariots with his
teeth. And his image undercut
racial stereotypes about Jews.

As musclemen were seen as
representing the proud, strong
German male throughout the
opening decades of the 20th
century, Breitbart was in effect
also embodying quintessential
images of German masculinity.

As Breitbart’s legend grew,
he increasingly became the
talk of each town in which he
performed. One reporter noted
that “Not only do gymnasia
students and high school girls
talk about him; even first graders
know how strong Breitbart is.”
A tavern
proprietor complained, “My tables are
studded with holes because my
customers test their strength
by hammering nails into them
with their open hands. All
Viennese women are in love
with this new Samson. Racial
hatred, pride or prudishness —
all of it is useless here.”
Capitalizing on
his popularity in Europe, Breitbart
spent much of 1923 touring
the United States. Ultimately
the Breitbart craze resulted
in product endorsements, a
starring role in the 1923 film
“The Iron King” and a Breitbart
physical health correspondence
course in which subscribers
received guides detailing
Breitbart’s muscle-building and
nutritional eating routines.

Breitbart’s career came to an
abrupt end in 1925 when a stage
accident involving a rusty nail led
to a fatal case of blood poisoning.

He was buried in Berlin. l
Unfortunately, the Nazi
destruction of Polish Jewry largely
extinguished the rich oral legends
See Sinensky, Page 23
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM



O pinion
Healing Together Despite our Differences
BY RABBI ARI DEMBITZER
AS AN ORTHODOX rabbi
in Omaha, Nebraska, people
often want to know what
it’s like to live here in the
middle of America. The most
common questions typically
go something like this: “How
many Jews are there?” “Do you
live on a farm?” And of course,
“Do you know Warren Buffet?”
(The answers: about 9,000; no;
I wish!)
After addressing these
questions, I describe Omaha
as a city where people are nice
for no reason. As someone who
grew up in Brooklyn, I have
learned a lot from the slow
pace and the positive impact
that a lack of traffic has on the
human psyche.

But my utopian bubble
was punctured as I observed
the polarization and discord
that’s happening throughout
America hit here as well.

Friends and neighbors have
stopped talking to one another
over their diverging opinions
on political issues, vaccines
and masks.

While my new home
feels divided, the unity I see
during my “summer job” gives
me hope that we can rebuild
mutual respect in spite of our
tremendous differences and the
tremendous challenges we face.

In addition to my rabbinic
duties in Omaha, during the
summers I relocate to New
York’s Catskill Mountains,
where I have served as the
co-director of Camp Simcha,
a medically
supervised overnight camp for children
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM with life-threatening illnesses
and chronic disease, for over
20 years.

In camp, our bunks are
filled with children and
staff from all religious
backgrounds and walks of life:
Zionists and Satmar Hasidim,
Orthodox and secular Jews,
and everything in between.

Though they may have
differing worldviews, they
are able to discover common
ground and find strength in
one another.

A few summers ago, I was
lucky to meet two incredible
young campers: Matthew,
a Reform Jew from Dallas,
Texas, and Chaim, a Vizhnitz
Hasid from Monsey, New
York. Matthew had never met
a Chasidic Jew, and Chaim
had not personally known any
non-Orthodox Jews. Through
their shared experiences as
leukemia survivors, the two
formed a special bond and have
remained close friends until
this day, sharing in each other’s
joyous occasions.

Matthew and Chaim are
my inspiration. While their
day-to-day lives feel very
different from the outside and
the challenges they’ve faced
are daunting, they teach us
that there is more that unites
us than keeps us apart and
that we can learn from one
another without sacrificing
who we are.

This work requires us to set
aside the safety of our own
bubbles — and to think about
what we can do for others. In
the Talmud, Rabbi Shimon
asserts that a person should
study Torah all day. Rabbi
Yishmoel disagrees and says a
person should earn a living and
engage with others to comple-
ment his Torah learning.

The Talmud concludes that
many have tried to study all
day like Rabbi Shimon’s direc-
tive and failed. In explaining
this conclusion, in his Sefer Ein
Ayah, Rav Avrohom Yitzchok
HaKohen Kook states that
when a person studies all day
and is not on the lofty level of
Rabbi Shimon, and does not
to do mitzvot and engage with
others, all he becomes is his
mind. If one is only engaged
in their mind and their own
opinions, they will lose appre-
ciation of others. They then
tend to become argumentative
and divisive.

At Camp Simcha, our
counselors and staff members
have one goal: to give each child
the most joyous, fun-filled
experience possible. When you
are compassionate and giving,
you tend to look for the best in
others. You try to understand
others. And you quickly realize
life is too short to dwell on
what divides us.

Unlike the world of online
vitriol, our camp focuses on
kindness. We get to know one
another, we sing and dance
together, we play, we talk, we
ask questions, and we build up
each other without losing sight
of our unique identities and
what makes us each so special.

Hence Rav Kook’s teaching:
The way to increase harmony
within diversity is to engage
and to give to one another. l
Rabbi Ari Dembitzer is the co-
director of Chai Lifeline’s Camp
Simcha and rabbi of Beth Israel
Synagogue in Omaha, Nebraska.

This piece was originally published
by JTA.

STATEMENT FROM THE PUBLISHER
We are a diverse community. The views expressed in the signed opinion columns and let-
ters to the editor published in the Jewish Exponent are those of the authors. They do
not necessarily reflect the views of the officers and boards of the Jewish Publishing
Group, the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia or the Jewish Exponent. Send
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published. JEWISH EXPONENT
KVETCH ’N’ KVELL
Tribute to Smukler Deserved
CONGRATULATIONS FOR THE outstanding tribute to
Connie Smukler (“Connie Smukler: A Real-life Hero for the
Soviet Jews,” Feb. 25). In 1985, when my wife, Bunny, and I were
planning our first of many trips to the Soviet Union to meet
with refuseniks, we met with her for at least 10 hours as she
briefed us on whom we would meet, how to deal with the KGB if
questioned, what needed items to bring with us, and what infor-
mation to give the refuseniks and what information to bring back
to our Soviet Jewry Committee.

Everywhere we went, we were constantly told to give our love
to Joe and Connie Smukler and Bernie and Lana Dishler.

Philadelphia was considered the most important city for
support by the refuseniks and the Smuklers, Dishlers and Bobbie
Morganstern were among the giants, not just in Philadelphia but
in the world. Connie Smukler was the most loved and was right
at the top of the list.

Frank Brodsky | Former co-chair, Soviet Jewry Council of the JCRC
Jews a Means to an End for Evangelicals
So William Wanger’s response to being told that he will not go
to heaven because he doesn’t accept Jesus as his savior is, “So
what?” (“Jews Should Embrace American Evangelical Friendship
and Support,” March 11). Let me explain why I cannot hold the
same opinion.

A long time ago, I went to a ski resort in Vermont during
holiday time. After dinner, there was a children’s choir perfor-
mance led by an evangelical choir director. After the performance,
I approached him and told him how much I appreciated the
children’s music, even though I was not Christian.

He looked me straight in the eye and with no expression in
his face said, “You know, if your people don’t accept Jesus as their
lord and savior, they will burn in hell for all eternity.” I felt like
I was punched in the gut. Not going to heaven is one thing but
burning in hell is quite another. Would Wanger have said, “So
what?” to that choir director? I felt like leaving the resort then
and there, but it was cold and dark outside, so I had a drink and
went to bed.

For evangelicals, we Jews are just a means to an end. Saying
“So what?” in this situation is accepting a demeaning and
insulting bargain.

Benjamin H. Bloom | Wynnewood
But Was It Funny?
OK, anti-Semitism isn’t funny (“What Jewish Comedians
Thought of SNL’s Israel Dig,” March 4), but neither was the SNL
Israeli vaccine joke if you read it.

To judge the joke as either anti-Semitic or funny, one would
need to hear the conversation that led up to it and see the facial
expression of the comedian. I could tell a joke to monumental
silence, while Bob Newhart or Don Rickles would have people
rolling in the aisles.

Anti-Semitism is certainly not funny, but to find it behind
every door or under every bed is not productive and, believe it or
not, humor has been known to tame the savage beast. Besides, it’s
fun to laugh at yourself once in a while. l
Ralph D. Bloch | Jenkintown
MARCH 18, 2021
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