|
|
|
Jewish World Review August 30, 2000 / 29 Menachem-Av, 5760
http://www.jewishworldreview.com --
It is a five minute ride over the Tobin Bridge, and if you take either of the
first two exits north, you’ll find yourself in the middle of what was once
one of the most densely populated Jewish areas in New England.
Almost 100 years ago they poured into the little city of Chelsea from nearly
every major center in Eastern Europe. By the time the Depression hit, there
were over 15,000 Jews in town and an estimated 16 shuls. Lithuanians,
Russians, Poles and Hasidim all had their own places of worship. There may
not have been food on the table, but there was always a shul to daven in.
In the shadow of the bridge sits Walnut Street, a stone’s throw from a mall
that replaced an entire Jewish neighborhood that burned to the ground in the
Great Chelsea Fire of 1973. Triple deckers and brick tenements still exist
here and it’s not too hard to imagine a turn-of-the-century Jewish
neighborhood filled with shuls, kosher butchers, bakeries, variety stores and
open markets. Walnut Street today looks like any other smaller urban street —
cars are parked close to the curb; people sit out on the stoops of the their
houses and recognize everyone, including strangers. Perhaps the quietness of
the neighborhood today serves as a gentle protector to the great shul that
still stands on its corner. Once you see it, you’ll understand why so many
people have worked so hard to keep it open.
It is a smiling face that greets you at the door of the great Agudath Sholom
Synagogue in Chelsea, better known as the Walnut Street Shul. Herb
Kupersmith, who despite living in Marblehead for the last 32 years, is the
heart and soul of the shul. Raised on the streets of the city in the 1950s,
Kupersmith worked in the clothing business and as an NBA scout, but never
forgot his childhood synagogue. In 1988, he visited the shul and walked
around the old building, marveling at the edifice which was built in the
tradition of old Eastern European Ashkenazic design. Constructed in 1900, it
held 1,100 people regularly for Shabbat until World War II. But the once
grand synagogue had fallen in disrepair. The stained glass windows had been
boarded up, the ceiling mural was fading and the centerpiece of the shul, the
37-foot oak ark, needed to be restored.
That day as he surveyed the shul, he found himself standing before the ark,
looking up at the women’s balcony, where his mother, Sally Kupersmith, and
his grandmother, Fannie Sugarman, used to sit. “I’m going to restore this
synagogue,” he thought, looking up at a vision of the two people who raised
him. He left the shul and found the rabbi, Nochum Cywiak, and told him of his
plans. “He said okay, that’s another bubbemeise,” or fantasy, Herb remembers .
Kupersmith kept his word, and before long, he had raised $100,000 to restore
the shul. The stained glass windows, the ark, the benches, the murals, the
electricity — even the oil burners — were fixed. It was placed on the
National Register of Historic Places.
Forty-eight years after his bar mitzvah, the shul is fully functioning, with
Rabbi Cywiak holding a daily minyan. Kupersmith, for his part, keeps a low
profile, and comes and goes, checking on the building. While admittedly
leaning toward the secular life, he often visits the synagogue and makes his
way up to the balcony. “Sometimes, I bring a list of names with me and I pray
for people,” he says, looking down from the U-shaped balcony where the names
of women who once held the seats are still engraved.
Now, 10 years after the shul’s restoration, Kupersmith is on a mission to
keep the synagogue functioning and financially solvent. He’s in the process
of raising another $100,000 to establish an endowment to maintain the
building. Many people have stepped forward so far, but he’s still looking for
more help.
Meanwhile, an estimated 500 people will gather for the shul’s 100th
anniversary on Sept. 10 beginning with a service at 6:15 p.m. A kosher meal
will follow downstairs, and no doubt it will be one of the largest Jewish
reunions this area has seen for a while. “Everyone is invited,” affirms
Kupersmith. Tickets are available by calling (781) 639-5151.
In an era when century-old shuls are fast disappearing, Kupersmith
understands the importance of carrying on history and tradition. “It’s
mystical,” he says about his attraction to the shul. He talks with pride
about his wife, Sondra, and his three daughters and grandchildren. In the
same sentence he mentions the importance of his mother, grandmother, and
people like Murray Brown, Harold Mindel, Mina Karas, Steve Harris and Arnie
Goodman who have devoted so much time to keeping the Walnut Street Shul
alive. For him, they’re all family. “Never drink your cup dry, leave some for
other people,” he says, quoting his former basketball coach, Julius Zeff.
For sure, his old coach would be proud of his former player
Steven Rosenberg is the editor of The Jewish Advocate. Comments by clicking here.
A Mystical Light Shines on the Walnut Street Shul
By Steven Rosenberg
