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Friday April 22, 2005

Tahoe temple offers warm respite from chilly isolation

by joanne catz hartman

In the SMART yellow pages that sit in our Tahoe City cabin, listed under Churches-Foursquare Gospel and sitting smack next to an ad with trumpet-tooting angels for Christ Life Church is an interesting entry. It reads, “Churches-Hebrew-Christian: North Tahoe Hebrew Congregation.”

Sure, Lake Tahoe is eclectic, but Hebrew-Christian?

Turns out these particular SMART yellow pages are not so smart.

The new edition of the Tahoe SBC yellow pages corrects the error. No Jewish temple in the churches category; it’s listed under synagogue where I found congregations on the South Shore and in Reno. North Lake Jews, South Lake Jews and Nevada Casino Jews. Who knew?

Lake Tahoe is my family’s home away from home, where I’ve vacationed since childhood. My husband, daughter and I visit on snowy weekends and school vacations. Until recently, I never thought about a Jewish connection to the place, or pondered the existence of a temple in this resort community.

We were there for a long weekend in early spring; I’d had enough alone time that week and wanted to connect with people. Since it was Friday night, I thought, hey, how about Jewish people? I had already done my yellow pages homework, knew the new synagogue was just a short scenic drive along the northward shore of the lake. Why not meet the Jews of Lake Tahoe?

My daughter and husband weren’t so eager, but I knew if we stayed home my isolation would continue — my husband working on his computer, yes, even after sundown; my daughter lost in her Harry Potter book. I could have gone alone, but I wanted my family with me. The times spent at Friday night services in Oakland always have positive outcomes, the drive home is a happy one; we become focused on something other than our busy lives: each other.

“We’ll go out to dinner after and you can have Sprite,” I bribed my daughter.

“And me?” my husband asked.

“You can have Sprite, too,” I told him. Not quite the incentive he had hoped for.

The temple wasn’t easy to find. No “Jewish Temple Next Left” sign to help us, no banner announcing “Pray For Snow — 1 Mile Ahead … Shabbat services EVERY Friday night.”

But we found the driveway-size street and the temple, a stunning structure reminiscent of a fancy ski lodge. If I weren’t already married, I’d have my ceremony there.

During the service Rabbi Leonard Zoll, here from San Diego serving as interim rabbi, asked us all to help someone named Ed who led V’Shamru. My husband was promptly pulled from his chair to help with the Torah scroll. There was no being invisible in this alpine congregation, where head coverings include not only traditional kippot, but also cowboy hats and ski caps.

It was my daughter’s first non-holiday, nonmusical service. She doodled on the back of a flier, looked up now and then, especially when the Torah was removed from the ark, and grinned when she recognized Hebrew phrases and Shabbat songs.

At one point, no doubt tired of the sitting, she stood up and dropped her charm bracelet down her pants. It made a satisfying swooshing sound as it fell through her pant leg onto the floor. This repeated performance was greeted with smiles, and later someone showed her a stash of Hebrew bubble gum. “I liked that temple,” she told us while sipping her Sprite at dinner.

“Me, too,” my husband said. “Now, was that Reform?”

Rabbi Yitzhak Nadler, who died last year, had called the congregation Reconservadox.

Jon Miller, the temple president, welcomes us “vacation folk.” About one-third of the membership is made up of part-time residents, and the majority are Bay Area second-home owners.

I’m glad we visited and look forward to future Shabbat services and meeting more North Lake Tahoe Jews, now that I know they are there.

Next time I bet my family will come without the bribe of Sprite.

Joanne Catz Hartman lives and writes in Oakland. She can be reached at jc_Hartman@comcast.net.

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