Volume #30, Issue #1, October, 1997
JUDAISM AGAINST A BACKDROP OF
LIFE IN THIRD WORLD COUNTRIES
A VIEW FROM THE AMERICAN WEST
by Hope Anker Gray,
With an Afterward by George J. Fogelson
This is the story of maintaining a Jewish home in
underdeveloped areas of the world. We lived and worked for more than a
quarter-century in areas of East Asia, Southeast Asia, and West Africa.
To address Judaism in this story, I must begin with a brief
family background. My grandfather, Rudolph Anker, came to America from Germany
in the 1880's. Although there were five brothers and one sister in his family,
he was the only one who ever came to America.
He was a young man who went to California in 1882 to San
Bernardino, which was just a village in a beautiful, sparsely settled valley. A
priority in his mind must have been the felt need for a Jewish house of worship,
for within the next few years, he and his brother-in-law, Marcus Katz, founded
Temple Emanu-El, which celebrated itse anniversary in 1991.
My grandfather was the first president of the congregation,
and officiated in that office for 33 years. My father later held that position,
as well as presidency of B'nai B'rith. Last May, Murray and I went to California
to attend a beautiful "black tie" formal affair in celebration of the 101st
anniversary of the temple. The founders were recognized, and I was introduced as
"a living link to the history beginnings of Temple Emanu-El."
With all that, as I was growing up, I never thought of us
as being an especially religious family, but maybe we were. Without talking too
much about it or thinking too much about it, we were what we were. We lived the
life of a Jewish family.
With that background, I'll take up the story in 1946, when
we went to Okinawa. Why did we go? My husband, the late Earl Diffenderfer, had
served in the Army during WWII, and I was teaching school during those years in
Burbank High School, Burbank, California. We were young and idealistic. It was
an opportunity to see some of the world, and it seemed a great opportunity to
be of service to fellow human beings who were in desperate need of aid and
rehabilitation in a severely war torn area.
Okinawa 1946-1957
In those early days, there was no organized Jewish place of
worship, nor facilities for Sabbath school. But our children were young, so we
read Bible stories, observed holidays and customs as best we could at home, and
made them aware of who they were in the religious order of life.
One experience relative to Judaism did, however, have a
life long influence upon our lives. I heard that the great New York Rabbi
Stephen Wise was visiting Okinawa, and would be speaking each morning for a
week in one of the military chapels, and all Jewish people were welcome to
attend. I took my two oldest children to hear his opening address on Monday
morning. They were en-chanted, and begged to go again the next day. We attended
every morning during the entire week of his Okinawan visit, and it was a turning
point in their lives. They became very serious about religion.
We left Okinawa after 11 years, with a great deal of pride
in accomplishments. Schools were the central gathering place in every village
and town. Buildings were attractive, teachers were properly trained, the
university was a magnificent campus with many schools, the radio station was
financially self sufficient, and newspapers and libraries were serving the
people. That's what we came to accomplish, and it was time to go.
We returned to the U.S. briefly, but were soon recruited by
the State Department to go to Korea with the U.S. Operations Mission, the
forerunner of the U.S. Agency for International Development. There were many
needs for development and assistance following the Korean War.
Seoul, Korea 1958-1961
Though accomplishments were not as in Okinawa, we had a
nice house overlooking the Han River. Our son, Pieter, was now eleven
years-of-age, and came home from the missionary school saying that he had met
some Jewish boys in school who go to a temple in Seoul, and are studying for Bar
Mitzvah. Could we go?
So we went. The temple was just a little Quonset, with an
attached lean-to that served as a kitchen. It was called Temple Beth Shalom, and
had two rabbis. They were Army chaplains, who served in the military during the
week and on the Sabbath, but they reserved Sundays for American civilians.
The first Sunday we attended, we took our places in the
next to the last row of the small sanctuary. I didn't really know anyone there,
but looked around to see who made up the Jewish community here. I partially
noticed one couple seated near the front and to the right. Somehow they looked
very special. When services were over, they walked down the aisle to leave, and
stopped to intro-duce themselves to us. They were Murray Gray and his late wife,
Celia Gray. For our two families, that day in Temple Beth Shalom in Seoul,
Korea, was the beginning of a long friendship.
As families, we spent almost all day every Sunday at the
temple. We participated in extensive and very interesting adult education,
services, schooling for the children, and lunch. A Korean lady was trained to be
a very good Kosher cook. Sunday lunch was always very pleasant. Then four boys,
our son, Pieter, among them, began their studies in preparation for Bar Mitzvah
the first ever to be held in Seoul, Korea. One of the
rabbis would meet with them at 4 o'clock after school every day for study.
As they neared the end of their studies, a great deal of
time was spent preparing an address to the congregation. Pieter's subject had
its theme in the 37th chapter of the Book of Ezekiel, and concerned the
prophet's vision of the dry bones. Pieter spoke from notes which were well
marked up; he made changes from time to time. His address closed with these
thoughts:
I humbly raise my eyes to God, and declare with
sincerity and truth that henceforth I will try to follow in His way of life
and undertake to bear the responsibility of all my actions toward Him. And
in keeping with the statement of the Rabbis of the Talmud, I shall also
endeavor to be true to the commandments of my father and shall not forsake
the teachings of my mother. Thus, my life will be guided by the counsel of
my parents the partners of God, and the revelation of God to Israel. A unity
of purpose, which, if divided, will detract from my being a good and
faithful Jew."
Since Fate ordained that Pieter was only destined to live
for a year and a half after his Bar Mitzvah, there was consolation in asking of
ourselves, "What more could one have asked for in a child than one who achieved
such nobility of thought and spirit through the precepts and concepts of
Judaism?
Sierra Leone 1961-1965
Since what could be accomplished in the foreign aid program
in Korea was severely hampered by the instability of the government, we
departed from Korea in 1961, and were sent to an assignment that turned out to
be five years in West Africa.
We went to Sierra Leone, a former British colony located on
the Atlantic Ocean, right out of the big bend of West Africa. Sierra Leone was a
land of diamonds it is the third largest diamond producing area of the world
iron, bauxite, and other minerals, but the people were desperately poor. The
mission here was to help the African people in the building of schools, clinics,
ware-houses, market access, and feeder roads, and with the development of water
sources. In reality, our being there was also defense related. It was in the
days when we were sparring the USSR all over the globe. Sierra Leone had the
best deep water harbor south of the Sahara. The U.S. wanted the foreign aid
project, partly to help the Africans, and partly to occupy the turf.
I thought the solution to getting one's bearings after a
tragedy such as we had just been through in the loss of our son would be to keep
busy helping other people. You can always find someone whose troubles are worse
than your own. But there weren't any people to help, for we found ourselves
living in almost total isolation. We lived in an African village, population 19
families; we were the only whites, and the only Americans. We had no car. We
never had a telephone. There was the BBC for news, but, at that time, no
television.
Somewhere, while all of this was taking place, another
matter surfaced. Our son, Kenneth, now 11 years of age, announced that he wanted
to be Bar Mitzvah, as had his brother, Pieter. Bar Mitzvah in a Muslim land? We
had no temple, no Torah, no rabbi - no nothing!
So I went to the Israeli Embassy, met with the ambassador,
and put the problem to him, "What do you do with your own Israeli children is
such a situation?"
He replied, "When we are in a place like this with no
rabbi, I am empowered to conduct the service, and I will gladly conduct the
service for Kenneth also. Now," he went on, "I am going to have you meet some of
our women, who will schedule his Hebrew lessons. Then I want you to look up a
British gentleman, Mr. Leon Moed, who is here with the Diamond Selection Trust.
He was a cantor in London, and I am sure that he will be glad to teach the
ritual." Lots of people pitched in to help. It was a United Nations effort that
extended over two years of study and work. The Israeli women were hard task
mistresses, but Kenneth did learn to read, write, and speak Hebrew.
The service was to be held in the living room of our home.
Suddenly, Mr. Moed and the Ambassador began to worry about our actually being
able to get a minyon. They didn't need to worry, for when word got around that
this was the first Bar Mitzvah ever held in Sierra Leone, or perhaps on West
Africa, that anyone who wanted to come was welcome, and that we had ordered all
sorts of wonderful Kosher food items from New York for a reception, Jews
literally came running out of the African bush.
About 200 people arrived for the Bar Mitzvah. In fact, on
the day prior to the event, a man came into the office and said that he was from
New York, in Africa on business, and had heard about the Bar Mitzvah. Could he
come? We told him that he could come, but it would not be very traditional, for
it was just to be in our living room, since there was no temple, no Torah, and
no rabbi.
The man replied, "Ah, but if I come, you will have a rabbi
! I am an ordained rabbi." So he came, and the ambassador worked him into the
service also. The whole event was quite unique and wonderful, and as such was
written up in the London Times.
There is no end to the stories one recalls of life in
Africa. One night, I was reading, and there was a pounding at the window. It was
an African villager. He kept saying, "Open up ! Open up ! A friend has been
shot. A friend has been shot." What he was trying to tell us was that President
Kennedy had been shot. I will never forget the sight of our village road the
next morning. African village people, dressed in their formal Muslim robes lined
the road, sat cross-legged in the dirt, heads bowed in hands, shaking their
heads in disbelief. I don't know how they even knew that there was a world
beyond their land, how they knew of President Kennedy. But they knew and they
were in mourning.
My last story is of Christmas. The Africans were mostly
Muslims, but still they knew all about Christmas and presents. So, on our first
Christmas in Africa, one little girl approached with the not so subtle question
of, "What are you going to give us?" Her lack of subtlety was quite specific, as
she added, "We would like something about your life." What to do? My life? We
are Jewish, and you are Muslim. What could we give to each family? There were no
bakeries. We had to bake all of our own bread, so we were pretty expert at it. I
decided to bake a challah for each village family something from Judaism, but a
present nevertheless! Thus, on the night before Christmas, under every thatch
roof, there was a challah.
AFTERWARD
by George J. Fogelson
Hope Gray, born Hope Jane Anker on December 28, 1917 in San
Bernardino, California died on June 9, 1995 in Sarasota, Florida of ALS (Lou
Gehrig's Disease). She is survived by her husband Mr. Murray Gray, a younger
brother Gerald Anker, four children, four grandchildren, and two
great-grandchildren.
Both Hope and I shared a keen interest in the history of
the Anker family. My great-grandfather Simon Anker was an elder brother of her
grandfather Rudolph. While Hope's branch of the family arrived in California in
1882, my maternal grandparents, mother, and aunts only arrived in Los Angeles in
October 1940 as refugees from Nazi Germany. My family referred to Hope, her
brother and her parents as their "American Cousins" as they welcomed them to
America and showed them the American way of life.
Hope grew up in San Bernardino and attended the public
schools there, graduating San Bernardino High School at the age of 14. Her
parents, Herbert and Florence Anker, were active members of the Jewish community
of San Bernardino, Herbert serving one term as President of Temple Emanu-El in
1916. He also served as District Deputy of the San Bernardino B'nai B'rith
Paradise Lodge No. 237 in 1926.
After High School, Hope attended the University of
Redlands, graduating at the age of 18. After graduation she married Earl
Diffenderfer on December 26, 1938 and taught public school in the Burbank School
District.
In 1946 Hope and Earl decided to move to Okinawa. Earl was
to serve as Director of Civil Information and Education there for the United
States government. Hope explained: "the devastation in the Far East was terrible
[after WWII], and it was an opportunity to be of service to fellow men, and also
to see some of the world. Okinawa, Korea, West Africa, and Laos would be home to
us for the next quarter of a century."
When Hope and Earl returned to the United States in 1970
they planned on retirement, but as Hope wrote "someone asked me to help out on a
contract at Naval Air Systems Command Headquarters in Washington, DC. By then,
I was past 50 years of age, and could never have imagined that a marvelous 20
year career was still ahead of me."
Hope tells of this time "I liked what I saw. Scientists
were developing equipment that was a vision of tomorrow. The women's movement
was gaining momentum. I wanted to be part of it. The only problem was I was not
an engineer or an aeronautical scientist. I decided to prepare myself to be
useful to the organization, and started attending George Washington University
nights at the School of Engineering, Graduate School of Mathematics, and the
Graduate School of Business and Administration. (Hope went on to hold an MBA
from George Washington University and a Ph.D. from Pacific Western University).
Hope explained her career advancement: "I was soon
classified as an Industrial Specialist, then a contracting officer, and finally
entered the field of cost analysis. I joined review teams working for three to
five weeks in our major aircraft plants on reviews toward validation of the
contractors' cost and scheduling systems. In time, I became Chief of these
teams, and eventually retired from the Office of Assistant Secretary of the
Navy, as Director of the on-site reviews. I was the first woman ever to hold
such a position.
While engaged in the above, I also served as Manager of the
Federal Women's Program under the EEO. As such, I often spoke to women's groups
on the subject of Career Advancement and Enhancement, and carried the message,
`You will never fail nor succeed because you are a woman, or because you are
white or black, or young or old. You will succeed when you can fill your
organization's need better than anyone else, and perform with a vibrant spirit
with your eye on the goal of success in your every endeavor.' "
During her retirement in Sarasota, Hope was an active
member of Temple Emanuel. Among other duties she held the position of Secretary.
Her husband Murray, knowing she was a wonderful speaker, arranged to have her
speak at Temple Emanuel about her life in Okinawa, Seoul, and Sierra Leone. She
also spoke to the local ORT Chapter in Sarasota. On each occasion she received a
tremendous standing ovation. At that time, Hope spoke extemporaneously using an
outline. Her speeches were given during the latter part of 1994 and early in
1995. An edited form of her speech entitled "Judaism Against Against A Backdrop
of Third World Countries" is printed above. I hope it gives an insight into the
life of a truly remarkable woman.
For those who want to learn more about Hope's life and
forebears, please read "The Remarkable Harris Family of Southern California, A
Memoir by Hope Anker Gray" in the October 1993 and January 1994 issues of this
journal; "Rudolph Anker, San Bernardino Pioneer" by George J. Fogelson in the
January 1985 issue of this journal; and "Okinawa, the Island Rebuilt" by Hope
Diffenderfer, pages 265-288, of the February 1955 issue of the National
Geographic, (Volume CVII, Number Two).
About the author:
George J. Fogelson received his B.A. in American Jewish History from the
University of California at Berkeley in 1979. His senior thesis was on the
pioneer Jews of Santa Cruz, California. He received his Masters in Public
Administration from New York University in 1982. He is one of our important
subscriber/writers.
