Jewish community fundraiser serves up chili with a side of anxiety
It was hard not to notice the extra security at the 7th annual Houston Kosher Chili Cook-off on Sunday outside the Evelyn Rubenstein Jewish Community Center in southwest Houston.
An armed officer was posted at a nearby synagogue to guard the shuttle service, another armed officer greeted festival goers as they got off the shuttle, and a third was positioned near the front entrance.
The organizers of the festival, which is sponsored by a nonprofit in Houston, didn’t want to take any chances after the community center received a bomb threat less than a week earlier.
More than 3,000 members of the Houston-area Jewish community turned out for the friendly cooking competition that helps raise money for seven area Jewish schools. Thirtyfour synagogues, camps and other Jewish groups set up booths and passed out chili samples in an event expected to raise more than $25,000.
Security precautions have become second nature for many of those in attendance. They’re used to armed guards at their synagogues during services and celebrations, such as bar and bat mitzvahs. The latest rash of bomb threats against dozens of Jewish community centers, vandalism in Jewish cemeteries and other acts of hate didn’t seem to discourage folks from coming out in Houston.
“I thought about it for just one second,” said Sara Ellen Kaiser, 55, who works in member services for a local synagogue. She considered that the large group could be a potential target but then went on with her life.
Festival goers talked more about their concerns of attending recent Super Bowl events. Some said they don’t like to go to shopping malls or movie theaters anymore.
Craig Schweitzer, 52, said he tries to live his life without worrying or being paranoid. Sure, he and others should be vigilant, said Schweitzer, who lives in Clear Lake. But not so he gives up his freedom.
“Our rabbi says, ‘Live out loud,’ ” he said. And on Sunday, that was serving “Eternal Flaming Chili” for Congregation Shaar Hashalom. Last year, the chili had way too much cayenne pepper. This year, he said, the cooks backed way off. “You will have to associate the eternal flame with God, not with spice,” he said.
Steven Weiss, chairman of the Greater Houston Kosher Chili Cook-Off, said he takes out liability insurance each year to cover slip and fall accidents, chili-related mishaps and other calamities. This year, in light of the recent bomb threats, the nonprofit added terrorism coverage.
The extra coverage for the event ended up costing only $8, said Weiss, who expected to pay much more. The general liability policy cost $375.
He also doubled law enforcement protection. In the past, the festival hired two constables; this year, two police officers were added.
“Sure there is deepdown concern here,” said Weiss, a retired chiropractor. “But for 3,500 years, Jewish people have endured obstacles. We’ve always come out stronger. I think this is no different.”
Other festival goers said they’ve become focused on planning for the worst.
Emily Blechman, 58, who works for a nonprofit that raises money for Israeli universities, said she’s thinking of getting passports for her family.
“That’s very World War II” in terms of thinking, she said. And at an earlier time, she would have thought it sort of crazy. But not now.
There isn’t one event Blechman can point to that has her unsettled. It’s a sense that anyone who is different — whether Jewish, Muslim or a Catholic in a Lutheran-dominated community — is somehow singled out, said Blechman, who was part of the Congregation Beth Yeshurun “Holypenos” chili cook-off team.
“Our current political climate doesn’t encourage it but it doesn’t discourage it either. Churches don’t typically have police officers on duty during church services,” said Blechman. “Our kids don’t know you can go pray without security.”