When I was no more than 18, out of my innate curiosity, I went to the small Jewish community in Waterloo, Iowa, went to their synagogue, and asked if I could watch a service. I got bounced through a couple of people and ended up talking to the rabbi, who wanted to know why I was interested. I explained that I was (and still am) curious about almost everything, that I had heard a lot of talk about the small Jewish community and Jewish people in general - this was only a little over 30 years after World War 2 had ended. I wanted to see for myself, I told him. I wanted to know what was true.
He consented, although he looked a tad apprehensive, as I recall over this distance in time. I showed up on the appointed day, he gave me a kippah to wear, and told me where to sit. There was nothing unusual about it; I didn't understand the Hebrew, of course, but it didn't seem all that much different from Baptist, Catholic, or Presbyterian services I'd been to. Then, as now, I didn't have a dog in that fight, so to speak, but the gist of the talk seemed to be "Be good to one another."
That's a good message in any setting. Which, then and now, made the very concept of antisemitism utterly baffling to me - but, here we are, with one of the most ancient of irrational hates arising again.
The fatal shooting of two Israeli Embassy staffers has left the American Jewish community reeling after more than a year of surging antisemitism.
Yuval David, a filmmaker and Jewish activist who lives in Washington, D.C., told Fox News Digital that the murders of Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim were "too close by for every Jew in America."
"I was very close by in Washington, D.C., and the thing is, even though I was just merely blocks away, this is too close by for every Jew in America," David said. "This is our nation's capital. Jews now have increased security at our businesses, at Jewish schools, at Jewish synagogues, and it shows us that whatever increased security we have is not enough because two people were murdered last night."
This wasn't a robbery gone wrong. This wasn't some gang hit. This was an assassination aimed at Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim simply because they were perceived as Jewish - Yaron Lischinsky wasn't, but hate doesn't make fine distinctions. They were leaving a Jewish institution. That was enough. And the goblin alleged to have shot them shouted "Free Palestine" when arrested.
The murders are part of a growing trend in Washington and elsewhere:
The Jewish activist said that he experienced antisemitism in the nation’s capital long before Lischinsky and Milgrim were fatally shot. According to the ADL’s annual antisemitism audit for 2024, David is far from the only one. The organization recorded 151 antisemitic incidents in Washington, D.C., throughout 2024.
"I personally have been yelled at, have been spit at here in Washington, D.C. on the streets of our nation's capital. And I speak out about it very openly as I address this ever-increasing antisemitism, anti-Jewish racism, anti-Jewish hatred, anti-Jewish bigotry, which seems in the haters' minds to be justified when they call it anti-Israel or anti-Zionism."
Why? Why the Jewish people, of all people?
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Throughout my sixty-odd years of wandering around this planet and working with all manner of people, I've made a lot of friends and made the acquaintance of many more people. I've had Jewish friends - yes, I know that's a bit of a cliche, but it's true. One of them, whom I'll call only "T," was an American-Israeli dual citizen. He had served in the Israel Defense Forces and was a staunch believer in the commitment of "never again." He was a brilliant mechanical engineer and a great friend, whom I have sadly lost track of over the years.
One of my wife's closest friends outside the family is a very nice Jewish lady, tall and blonde, who describes herself humorously as a J.A.P. - a "Jewish American Princess." She's a sweet, kind lady.
When my first wife was working in a nursing home when we were still together, one of the residents in the home she worked in was a Holocaust survivor. He still had the number tattooed on his arm. He was physically in bad shape, but his mind was perfectly sharp, and he would tell you tales of the camps. He clearly didn't enjoy talking about it, but once told my ex, "People have to know."
The Jewish people I have known have been, as a group, intelligent, generous, kind, and industrious. Israel, I might point out, is the only nation in the Middle East with a freely elected government where every citizen has a vote and may be elected to office - even Arab Muslims. Since 1948, despite attack after attack, the Jewish nation has literally made the desert bloom.
Hate is, by definition, irrational. But his hate, one of the very oldest hates, seems one of the most irrational of all. The people in that small Jewish community in that small Iowa town, the people I met all those years ago, were warm and welcoming, once they had absorbed that I was there out of genuine curiosity and a desire to see things for myself. It's confounding to me to think that goblins like the man who shot Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim would want to kill those people. I don't understand it. I will never understand it.
Perhaps the late, great Paul Harvey said it best: "If you could understand it, we'd have to worry about you."
Editor's Note: This article was updated post-publication for clarity.
