Holy Places. The Places that Make You Feel at Peace.

Yankee Stadium, Coney Island, Ten Mile River Scout Camps and the Kotel

We all have places we visit that calm, energize, and bring peace and a sense of reason. They change over the years. Some get stronger. Some weaker. Some you eliminate.

For me, the top places include Yankee Stadium, Coney Island, Ten Mile River Scout Camps (TMR) and the Kotel (Western Wall). For the record, all of Israel does it and so do a few other camps. But TMR is at the top of the list.

Yankee Stadium

How does this work? Well, it is different in each case. For example, as the 4 subway line pulls into 161st – Yankee Stadium, I feel a certain charge. I stand up as it approaches the station and stand by the exit door. I always go down the same stairwell and alternate between two turnstiles, depending on which one I exit from. Then you see greatness – The Stadium. Yes, the original Stadium was far superior and brought a deeper feeling. But the new one has its merits and is growing on me. It has been since day one. I look at it in awe. And all is right with the world. I take a walk to the hallowed grounds where the original one sat and say a few prayers to win the World Series. Hasn’t happened in a while. Too long. But I try. 

Yankee Stadium

After I go through security and enter this holy building, I am ready. Of course, as the game goes on and if we start losing, the happy feelings turn to despair. But I keep coming back, ready for victory and the joy it brings.

When I get off the train at Stillwell Avenue and see the lifeguard chair in the station as I am walking towards Nathan’s Famous and the boardwalk, I feel this excitement. You never know what the day will bring. I see the Cyclone, the Wonder Wheel, and in the distance the holy waters where the Coney Island Polar Bears swim, and during the regular season families go and spend their day(s) enjoying the beach. Who says the winter isn’t the regular season? Many think it is. I do. 

The Cyclone

Walking along the boardwalk and seeing all the characters and the little kids hoping they are tall enough for the Cyclone makes you feel all is right with the world. I usually go straight to the Cyclone and ride it several times. Then I decide on my next ride. I always walk along the beach and let the sand pile up in my sneakers. I head over to the Wonder Wheel and play some games. I win lots of toys. Then the time comes when you need to board the subway and head home. I look back at the beach and rides and board, knowing I had a great time and probably ran into many of my Coney pals.

Wonder Wheel

I am chairman of the Ten Mile River Scout Museum. As we drive along 97, the road that leads to camp, I feel I am 12 years old again. I jump a few years into my teens and remember all the friends I made at this camp. I am still friends with many. Sadly, some, like My Leader and Uncle Funky, are at the great campsite in the sky. 

My Lake

I always make sure I get to the section where I spent my teen years earning merit badges, listening to great music, such as the Ramones, U2, Depeche Mode and the Clash, as well as spending lots of time in Rock Lake; it rocks. That section is now gone. Nature has taken it over. But when I am there, I channel back to the 80s and feel incredible. I still jump into the lake and hike the trails. I walk by the cement blocks that once held important buildings, such as the nature and handicraft lodges, offices and latrines. Then we get to the gate and drive back to the other sections, full of kids, great programming, and camp food. We are all smiles.

Dining Hall

When the El Al jet lands at Ben-Gurion Airport, I feel at home. The first time I went to Israel, I didn’t feel like a tourist. I felt I was returning home. Yes, I had no idea where I was. But I didn’t feel that way. There is something about that place that makes you feel you’ve always been there. I went through security, got my luggage and got to my hotel. I have done this many times. The excitement grows each time.

The Kotel

I check my bags and immediately walk to the Kotel. Tears fall from my eyes as I get there and place my head against it. Yes, I stuff notes in it. Some are mine and some were given to me by others. I feel connected to the world and the higher one. Sometimes I talk to others. We all take pictures of each other to text home to Mom and others. 

The Beach at Tel Aviv

I spend a few days in Jerusalem and travel. I might go north to Safed or south to Eilat. The feeling never leaves me. Eventually, I wind up on Tel Aviv’s stunning beaches. I am often the first one out. I am an early riser and am often sitting on my lounge chair or in the Mediterranean Sea around 7 a.m. or 8 a.m. Walks along the boardwalk are different than walks along Coney’s boardwalk. Although sometimes they are similar. You meet lots of interesting people and partake in lots of great food and drink.

The Dead Sea

Bottom line, everyone has these places locked into their hearts and souls. I don’t know which one(s) will come next. I know the places I discussed will always remain at the top.

Nighttime in the Old City

Jewish Unity and Inclusivity: Do we want it?

Right now, I am not high on Hashem and question his, her or its existence. Let’s face it there’s no proof.

But let’s put that aside. That debate will go on until the end of the world. Yesterday, I was gallery hopping on the Lower East Side and decided to walk over to Williamsburg. As I walked over the bridge, I saw the hipsters — the furthest thing from real New Yorkers. And of course, the Satmar. I am not sure who is more clueless. But decided the Satmar is.

Despite my intro, I would like to believe. As I walked around I saw the microcosm of the city. The Satmar mom with the stroller and numerous kids following, the kosher meat store and raggedy looking kids on their skateboards. Of course, their rags were pricey as hell. The men with their long coats and flying pais were nearby.

I had enough and knew I had to meet a friend at Penn Station in the early evening. So I went back to the City. I knew Mincha/Arvit at Midtown would be in about 45 minutes. For some reason, I decided I was going. I usually do. Not sure why. I think I’m praying to someone who is deafer than deaf.

I could have easily found a place in Williamsburg and not rushed back. But the question rises would I be comfortable praying with the people and would they let me? Not sure. But doubt it on both accounts.

A few years ago, I was at the Kotel. I love it there. And do feel a connection. But I feel a spiritual connection in summer camp and Yankee Stadium.

I had my talit, siddur and teffilin. I wanted to join a minyan. I saw one of the Chasidic minyanim assembling. I walked over and got ready. I opened my siddur and began to read. I wasn’t expecting an aliyah. I’ve never had one in Israel. One or two of the “gentleman” in their fur hats in weather that was over 100 degrees, long black coats and leggings asked me to leave their minyan. They pointed me away. I didn’t care that much. I walked away and found an amazing Sephardim minyan that was welcoming. I‘m Sephardic. I just didn’t see them when I got to the Kotel. Or maybe they weren’t there when I arrived. I prayed and went up to the wall.

Bottom line, all of the people davening there are dreaming of the Moshiach coming. Let me ask if you turn away a fellow Jew do you really expect him to arrive?