All too familiar
For Oak Creek Sikh Temple members, Pittsburgh synagogue shootings rekindle memories of 2012 attack
OAK CREEK – Harbans Singh knows the face of evil. He saw it holding a gun, shooting round after round into friends and fellow worshipers at the Sikh Temple in this Milwaukee suburb six years ago. After hearing of the massacre in a Pittsburgh synagogue Saturday, Singh turned his thoughts once again to that awful day when another man with hate in his heart stalked a house of worship. “I’m really mad to hear of these things happening. Before
I came to the United States, I was under the impression this was the most peaceful” country, said Singh, who immigrated to Wisconsin from India in
1988. As people across the nation mourned another senseless massacre, those at Oak Creek’s Sikh Temple knew intimately the grief, sadness and frustration felt by Pittsburgh’s Tree of Life Synagogue members who lost 11 of their own Saturday.
“In worship places, I don’t think we should lock ourselves in to pray. I don’t think we should have to do that. Any time we hear of things like this (in Pittsburgh), it brings back memories of 2012.” Nirmal Kaur Oak Creek Sikh Temple attendee
Several hundred people arriving for religious service Sunday morning at the Sikh Temple passed through doors leading to the large prayer room where three men sang and played instruments. Heads covered, feet bare in obedience to God, they all walked past a bullet hole in the door jamb next to a tiny plaque: “We Are One. 8-512.”
On that Sunday morning, a 40-year-old man killed six people and injured four others before he was shot by an Oak Creek police officer and committed suicide. The incident happened just as people were starting to arrive for services and fellowship. Among them was Nirmal Kaur, who was running a little late as she drove with her husband and children from Racine.
Just as her car pulled in to the parking lot she saw two squad cars with lights flashing. She backed out of the parking lot and drove to a bowling alley across the street. Kaur is convinced her lateness saved the lives of her family.
“In worship places, I don’t think we should lock ourselves in to pray. I don’t think we should have to do that,” Kaur said in the entryway of the temple, where a uniformed armed guard was stationed at the front door. “Any time we hear of things like this (in Pittsburgh), it brings back memories of 2012.”
At Chabad UWM Sunday afternoon, a couple dozen mostly high school and college students gathered to light memorial candles for the lives lost in Pittsburgh. Rabbi Yechezkel Thaler organized the open house for Jewish students to express their solidarity with members of the Pittsburgh synagogue.
“When one Jew is hurt, we all hurt. The message (the shooter) wants to send is for Jews to be less sure of their identity, but it should be just the opposite,”
Rabbi Yechezkel Thaler uses a video conferencing app to speak with his wife, Dobie Thaler, who was at the bat mitzvah of her younger sister blocks away from where the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting took place. She spoke about what happened and people's reaction in the tightly knit Jewish enclave of the Squirrel Hill neighborhood in Pittsburgh.
Thaler said.
A table was laden with lox and bagels, tea, orange juice and water, and chairs were set up in front of a screen where Thaler showed a short video about a shooting at a school in Israel in the 1950s and the message of hope that arose from that tragedy. Thaler pointed out the similarities to the Pittsburgh shootings.
“They’re a Jewish community, they’re doing their prayers, they’re attacked,” said Thaler. “One of the people killed (in Pittsburgh) was a Holocaust survivor, which hits home for me because all four of my grandparents are Holocaust survivors.”
Thaler’s wife, Dobie, co-director of Chabad UWM, which is part of Chabad-Lubavitch of Wisconsin, was in Pittsburgh on Saturday for her 12-year-old sister’s bat mitzvah. Speaking to the group via FaceTime, Dobey Thaler said she was at a girls school a few blocks from Tree of Life Synagogue when the shootings occurred, and at first she couldn’t believe what was happening.
Her disbelief soon turned to fear. Later, she struggled to answer her children’s questions, telling them that strength in their faith will help combat hatred.
She knew some of the victims, including 71year-old Daniel Stein, whose son is a friend of her brother. Her brother, a yeshiva student, had given Stein’s son a set of small black leather boxes containing parchment inscribed with Torah verses called tefillin. Stein’s son said he had worn the tefillin with his father during morning prayers and asked Dobey Thaler’s brother to attend Stein’s funeral.
“We need to fight back with positivity,” said Dobey Thaler, angling her smartphone to show Tree of Life Synagogue behind her. “That’s going to be the biggest revenge.”
At Oak Creek’s Sikh Temple, Chairman Kulwant Dhaliwal noted that it wasn’t just other Sikhs who reached out to his congregation following the 2012 shootings, it was members of all faiths who came together to pray for peace. Just as Jewish leaders supported the Wisconsin Sikhs in their time of need, Dhaliwal said Sikhs are responding in kind.
“I think we can feel the pain more than anyone else. We stand with the Jewish community, and we wish God grant peace to their departed souls,” said Dhaliwal.
He spoke in the Sikh Temple’s library, where large color photos line the walls. The faces smiling
from the frames are of the six people killed in 2012. At the end of Sunday’s service, prayers were said for the Pittsburgh synagogue victims.
“This kind of thing is devastating to the families, the community, to the whole country, really. Unfortunately this kind of thing is happening more regularly,” Dhaliwal said.
Pardeep Kaleka, whose father, Satwant Singh Kaleka, was killed in the Sikh temple massacre, posted this on Facebook Sunday: Thinking and praying for our Jewish brothers and sisters today and always. May your light continue to shine and may our resolve be strengthened by the One Almighty Divine Light that rages against the wickedness of separation and evil. #Wearestillone #Sikhsinsolidarity
In the dining room of the Sikh Temple, a large group gathered in the adjacent kitchen to prepare a traditional meal that included samosas filled with seasoned potatoes. As Singh finished a cup of tea and plate of samosas, he recalled sitting in the same room in 2012 when the 40-year-old white supremacist burst through the doors firing wildly.
He remembered frantically dialing 911 three or four times before he finally got through, of telling his wife and daughter to run to the basement, of taking refuge behind a door where he could see through small glass windows a hand holding a gun, seeing the smoke and hearing the sharp shots.
Singh remembered seeing the wounded and the dead, pools of blood, the shooter lying in the parking lot, the squad cars and ambulances. Despite all that, Singh does not hate the shooter.
“I know he was a frustrated person. I don’t blame him. It was his foolishness. I could not imagine why he would shoot us,” said Singh. “I don’t know from where these crazies come. In every country and every religion there are crazy people.”