Besides the parkas, Judaism keeps them warm . . .
It's cold - 23 to 28 degrees below zero, with snow on the ground from October through May. It's dark in winter, with just a few hours of daily sunlight. In summer, the days are so long that Shabbat candle lighting is very late on Friday, and Shabbat doesn't end until Sunday morning.
Closer to Russia than to the U.S., Alaska is 13 hours flight from New York, and three-hours to Vancouver, the nearest major city.
It's tough on all Alaskans. For observant Jews, the problems are even greater. Alaska's population of a million has fewer than 4,000 Jews. You can get Empire kosher chicken in one Anchorage supermarket, but everything else is flown in from the "lower 48."
The hardest thing for Rebbetzin Esty Greenberg is flying four hours to Seattle every month to immerse in the mikvah (ritual bath). There used to be a mikvah at the Air Force Base outside Anchorage, built in 1974 for a Jewish chaplain. It was located in the base chapel, which meant showing ID and creeping past the church vestments on the way to the ritual immersion. The air force demolished it in 1999, with apologies, to expand its chapel.
Now Greenberg and two other observant women make the long trek to Seattle every month to maintain the Jewish family purity laws. While there, Greenberg will cram her suitcase full of kosher food to take home, killing two birds with one plane ticket.
Esty Greenberg and her husband Yossi, 35, arrived in Anchorage, Alaska in 1991 as newlyweds, sent from Brooklyn by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson, to set up the state's first Chabad Center. They're part of Chabad's international network of shlichim (emissaries), dedicated to promoting Judaism to every Jew around the world.
Under Schneerson's leadership, Chabad broke the mold of other Chassidic groups, eschewing insularity in favor of an aggressive, international outreach campaign. Since 1950, almost 4,000 shaliach couples have opened Chabad centers in more than 100 countries, recently in Kathmandu, Nepal, and Shanghai, China. Wherever they go, they organize seders, teach Hebrew, hold Shabbat services, run day schools - and also raise their own families and children far from their friends and families.
Alaska isn't as culturally foreign as the Nepalese capital of Kathmandu, but it's still considered a Chabad "outpost." The Greenbergs answered the call. "We came up for a week, and fell in love with the place." Being an emissary was in Yossi's blood. His father spent seven years in a Siberian labor camp after World War II, and then made aliya in 1967. Yossi has 16 brothers and sisters; all of whom are emissaries, including two sisters in Russia and a brother in China.
The Greenbergs arrived and conducted Shabbat services in their basement for Congregation Shomrei Ohr ("Guardians of Light"). Hebrew classes for children were next, plus adult classes in Judaism, a preschool with 20 children, and holiday celebrations, including Chanukah and Purim parties, drawing hundreds of participants.
The Greenbergs are incredibly busy. The phone in their home starts ringing at 7 a.m. and doesn't stop until midnight.
There are always pots of food moving around from the stove to the refrigerator and to the large, round dining room table, where someone is always sitting, ready to eat. By 7:15, Esty is dressed and out the door, running to direct the preschool. She also runs the afternoon Talmud Torah and Sunday Hebrew school classes, in the family basement.
"We reach out to every single Jew." says Greenberg. That doesn't mean putting black hats on them, he adds. It doesn't mean turning them into Torah-observant Jews. although, he admits, that wouldn't be so bad. It means encouraging Jews to do a mitzva, or good deed, lighting Shabbat candles or donning tefillin. Every time a Jew performs a mitzva, the Messiah is one step closer.
On a recent night, 10 people gathered for the rabbi's weekly Torah class. They are not orthodox, although some are moving toward observance since meeting the Greenbergs.
Most are like Karen Greenberg (no relation to the rabbi), a medical-equipment saleswoman from New Jersey who moved to Anchorage in 1998. She wears jeans, dates, and drives on Shabbat. She's also a major donor.
"Don't tell my parents!" she begs. "It freaks out my brother that I support them. He says, 'You're not going to turn into one of those freaks who moves to Israel, are you?'" Karen says that when she moved to Anchorage, she wasn't observant. But, so far from home, she wanted to connect with the Jewish community.
Sharon and Jeff Lawrence moved to Anchorage from St. Louis, Missouri. Describing themselves as Conservative Jews, they chose the Greenbergs. "I like their attitude," Sharon explains. "They're more spiritual." Chabad has no pressure, of smiles, tolerance, and generosity. They themselves adhere to strict Jewish law, but teach by example rather than coercion."
Only 6 percent of Alaskan Jews are born in the state. Like other Alaskans, many moved there to get away, from their past, from everything. The intermarriage rate is up to 90% in the rural areas. One young Jewish man from Fairbanks, home to fewer than 600 Jews, ran full-page ads in national publications and spent 3 months in New York looking for a bride, where his exploits were the subject of a New York magazine co lumn. He's still single.
A year ago, the Reform rabbi left for Buffalo, leaving Yossi as the only rabbi in the state. In addition to Anchorage, he ministers to the 2,000 Jews living outside the capital. Many live in outlying towns where they are the only Jewish family.
On any given day, Yossi hops on a plane or jumps in the car to head for "the bush." On Wednesday, he flies to the Kenai Peninsula, 30 minutes southwest of Anchorage by puddle-jumper, where he's preparing Josh Barsis for his upcoming bar mitzva. On Thursday, he drives an hour north to Wasila, a woodsy area in the Mat-Su Valley, to nail a mezuza on the doorpost of the Mahoy home. While he's there, he also shows 15-year-old Kyle how to put on tefillin.
The Mahoys are typical. The father isn't Jewish, but the mother wants her three children to have a Jewish education. She brings them regularly to Chabad, sometimes sleeping over in Anchorage so Kyle and his older sister could be on time for Sunday school.
It's a dilemma, Yossi says. "We have two choices. We could ignore them, because the father is not Jewish. And then three souls are lost forever to Judaism. The other choice is to embrace them, because they are Jewish, and their father is a wonderful human being."
The Greenberg's have run out of space, and are now into a building campaign. Last year, they bought an acre of land downtown. In five years, Yossi predicts, a $1.6 million synagogue, school and Jewish center will stand on the property. Anchorage hosts hundreds of Jewish tourists every summer, most of whom call the Chabad center for everything from information on Jewish sites of interest to where to find a kosher restaurant (there are none).
The Greenbergs love the mountains, the easy pace of life, and the warmth and friendliness of the people who live there. Even the snow isn't so bad. This winter was the warmest on record. "The Rebbe instructed us to warm up Alaska. So we did!"
Then and Now
Jews came to Alaska in 1728, and it is said (not historically proven) that a soldier named Benjamin Levy raised the US flag in the ceremony transferring Alaska to America from Russia in 1867.
Beth Chaim is the Dawson City resting place of five merchants from the Klondike Gold Rush days, when Lewis Gerstle's steamboats provided transportation, J.B. Gottstein supplied goods, and as many as 200 Jews lived there.
The Nome Hebrew Benevolent Society was formed in 1901. Jews have held offices as mayor of Anchorage, territorial governor, and state senator. Several Alaskan mountains are named for Jewish pioneers.
Alaska's 4,000 Jews have a higher percentage of synagogue membership, more years of Jewish education and higher level of observance than Jews in the lower 48. A woman in Kenai placed an ad in the local newspaper: "I may be the only Jew on the peninsula, but please call if you are interested in a Passover seder." Seventeen responded. Similar groups found each other in at least 15 Alaskan towns.
Carr's on Diamond Blvd. has a kosher section with Empire cold cuts, and the chain stores carry some kosher grocery and Manischewitz products.
The Lubavitch Center in Anchorage offers Shabbat meals and a Bed and Breakfast, advance reservation required. The Alaska Jewish Heritage Tour in August 2002 with musician and tour guide Joy Katzen-Guthrie will feature live music and multi-faceted exploration.
More information at www.joyfulnoise.net/JoyAlaska1.html or joyfulnoise@earthlink.net.
Picture Captions:
Sharing Tefilling with a friend, Rabbi Greenberg warms up the great outdoors.
Torah dedication ceremony in Nome
This unusual Rosh Hashanah Scrimshaw Greeting was carved by the popular engraver "Happy Jack" on walrus tusk in 1910. The portrait depicts Rebecca and Jacob Kracower who operated "Honest John's" General store in Nome, presented on the occasion of their return from an extended shopping trip to New York for supplies.