LATEST SYNAGOGUE THREATS REFLECT THESE UGLY TIMES
Bomb threats at six San Diego Jewish synagogues — spanning the county from Carlsbad to La Jolla to Ramona — on Jan. 2 created a soul-crushing beginning to 2024 for our Jewish community.
My family’s congregation in Encinitas, including its preschool, was one of the six targeted. This bomb threat occurred less than three weeks after a prior threat to our synagogue. On Dec. 19, our synagogue’s CEO sent an email notifying the congregation that we had been targeted in a wave of 199 threats against U.S. synagogues including 100 in California. Fortunately, during that weekend of Dec. 15-17, our synagogue was closed for winter break. No children were on its campus to witness a scrum of armed law enforcement officers and bombsniffing canines sweeping through their walled courtyard playground and cozy classrooms hunting for explosives.
But on Jan. 2 the preschool children were in those classrooms sitting on their brightly hued carpets and singing; creating art at their child-sized tables; and holding hands on the playground — all the joyful activities children do at preschool.
This time our CEO sent out an urgent congregation-wide email notifying us that our temple’s campus was following its evacuation plan with the assistance of county sheriff ’s deputies due to a non-credible threat sent via email to hundreds of Jewish communities across the country. She let the community know the preschool children, ranging in age from 2 to 6, were safely playing inside a nearby church down the block.
An hour later, she sent a good news email — after searching the campus, county sheriff ’s deputies declared it safe for the children to return. After reading this, I breathed a sigh of relief for our congregation’s preschool parents. I struggled to imagine being in their shoes and making the brave decision to send their precious children to a Jewish institution for preschool in today’s world. I applaud their courage and urge them to stay strong and focus on the joys of raising proud Jewish children rather than the dark “oys” of antisemitism engulfing our community institutions.
Our youngest daughter, now 24, attended that preschool 20 years ago. She basked in the warmth of a caring, inclusive community that catered to the children with affection and Jewish joie de vivre. I have a vivid memory of her and her dear preschool friend helping carry a Torah (the scrolls of Hebrew text containing the Old
Testament) during our congregation’s September 2005 “Torah March” from our synagogue’s prior Encinitas location to its contemporary new sanctuary and campus. Hundreds of congregants made the onemile walk openly without police escort — a freedom of movement unimaginable for Jewish communities in San Diego today.
We American Jews are living through a once-in-a-generation explosion of antisemitic threats and violence. According to the Anti-Defamation League, antisemitic incidents in the United States have increased 400 percent since Hamas’ invasion of Israel on Oct. 7, 2023. We are afraid. And we have good reason to be. The April 2019 Chabad of Poway shooting which left a beloved Jewish woman dead and injured several congregants, including an 8-year-old girl, proved that our far-flung county and the city of San Diego — “America’s Finest” — are not always fine for Jews.
The open-armed kindness of a neighboring church provides a ray of hopeful light beaming from the dark shadows of these scary bomb threats. Our synagogue’s CEO told me, “That congregation has been amazing. Their grace in allowing our preschool teachers and children to use their space was a beautiful thing amidst what’s going on.”
San Diego’s Jewish community desperately needs these demonstrations of neighborly concern, compassion and assistance. As the late, great Fred Rogers urged the children watching his classic television show “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” to do, we are looking for the helpers to ease our anxiety and sorrow.
In today’s world, I struggle to imagine being in the shoes of those who make the brave decision to send their precious children to a Jewish institution for preschool. I applaud their courage.