In this issue

Jonathan Tobin: Defending the Right to a Jewish State

Heather Hale: Compliment your kids without giving them big heads

Megan Shauri: 10 ways you are ruining your own happiness

Carolyn Bigda: 8 Best Dividend Stocks for 2015

Kiplinger's Personal Finance editors: 7 Things You Didn't Know About Paying Off Student Loans

Samantha Olson: The Crucial Mistake 55% Of Parents Are Making At Their Baby's Bedtime

Densie Well, Ph.D., R.D. Open your eyes to yellow vegetables

The Kosher Gourmet by Megan Gordon With its colorful cache of purples and oranges and reds, COLLARD GREEN SLAW is a marvelous mood booster --- not to mention just downright delish
April 18, 2014

Rabbi Yonason Goldson: Clarifying one of the greatest philosophical conundrums in theology

Caroline B. Glick: The disappearance of US will

Megan Wallgren: 10 things I've learned from my teenagers

Lizette Borreli: Green Tea Boosts Brain Power, May Help Treat Dementia

John Ericson: Trying hard to be 'positive' but never succeeding? Blame Your Brain

The Kosher Gourmet by Julie Rothman Almondy, flourless torta del re (Italian king's cake), has royal roots, is simple to make, . . . but devour it because it's simply delicious

April 14, 2014

Rabbi Dr Naftali Brawer: Passover frees us from the tyranny of time

Greg Crosby: Passing Over Religion

Eric Schulzke: First degree: How America really recovered from a murder epidemic

Georgia Lee: When love is not enough: Teaching your kids about the realities of adult relationships

Cameron Huddleston: Freebies for Your Lawn and Garden

Gordon Pape: How you can tell if your financial adviser is setting you up for potential ruin

Dana Dovey: Up to 500,000 people die each year from hepatitis C-related liver disease. New Treatment Has Over 90% Success Rate

Justin Caba: Eating Watermelon Can Help Control High Blood Pressure

The Kosher Gourmet by Joshua E. London and Lou Marmon Don't dare pass over these Pesach picks for Manischewitz!

April 11, 2014

Rabbi Hillel Goldberg: Silence is much more than golden

Caroline B. Glick: Forgetting freedom at Passover

Susan Swann: How to value a child for who he is, not just what he does

Cameron Huddleston: 7 Financial Tasks You Should Tackle Right Now

Sandra Block and Lisa Gerstner: How to Profit From Your Passion

Susan Scutti: A Simple Blood Test Might Soon Diagnose Cancer

Chris Weller: Have A Slow Metabolism? Let Science Speed It Up For You

The Kosher Gourmet by Diane Rossen Worthington Whitefish Terrine: A French take on gefilte fish

April 9, 2014

Jonathan Tobin: Why Did Kerry Lie About Israeli Blame?

Samuel G. Freedman: A resolution 70 years later for a father's unsettling legacy of ashes from Dachau

Jessica Ivins: A resolution 70 years later for a father's unsettling legacy of ashes from Dachau

Kim Giles: Asking for help is not weakness

Kathy Kristof and Barbara Hoch Marcus: 7 Great Growth Israeli Stocks

Matthew Mientka: How Beans, Peas, And Chickpeas Cleanse Bad Cholesterol and Lowers Risk of Heart Disease

Sabrina Bachai: 5 At-Home Treatments For Headaches

The Kosher Gourmet by Daniel Neman Have yourself a matzo ball: The secrets bubby never told you and recipes she could have never imagined

April 8, 2014

Lori Nawyn: At Your Wit's End and Back: Finding Peace

Susan B. Garland and Rachel L. Sheedy: Strategies Married Couples Can Use to Boost Benefits

David Muhlbaum: Smart Tax Deductions Non-Itemizers Can Claim

Jill Weisenberger, M.S., R.D.N., C.D.E : Before You Lose Your Mental Edge

Dana Dovey: Coffee Drinkers Rejoice! Your Cup Of Joe Can Prevent Death From Liver Disease

Chris Weller: Electric 'Thinking Cap' Puts Your Brain Power Into High Gear

The Kosher Gourmet by Marlene Parrish A gift of hazelnuts keeps giving --- for a variety of nutty recipes: Entree, side, soup, dessert

April 4, 2014

Rabbi David Gutterman: The Word for Nothing Means Everything

Charles Krauthammer: Kerry's folly, Chapter 3

Amy Peterson: A life of love: How to build lasting relationships with your children

John Ericson: Older Women: Save Your Heart, Prevent Stroke Don't Drink Diet

John Ericson: Why 50 million Americans will still have spring allergies after taking meds

Cameron Huddleston: Best and Worst Buys of April 2014

Stacy Rapacon: Great Mutual Funds for Young Investors

Sarah Boesveld: Teacher keeps promise to mail thousands of former students letters written by their past selves

The Kosher Gourmet by Sharon Thompson Anyone can make a salad, you say. But can they make a great salad? (SECRETS, TESTED TECHNIQUES + 4 RECIPES, INCLUDING DRESSINGS)

April 2, 2014

Paul Greenberg: Death and joy in the spring

Dan Barry: Should South Carolina Jews be forced to maintain this chimney built by Germans serving the Nazis?

Mayra Bitsko: Save me! An alien took over my child's personality

Frank Clayton: Get happy: 20 scientifically proven happiness activities

Susan Scutti: It's Genetic! Obesity and the 'Carb Breakdown' Gene

Lecia Bushak: Why Hand Sanitizer May Actually Harm Your Health

Stacy Rapacon: Great Funds You Can Own for $500 or Less

Cameron Huddleston: 7 Ways to Save on Home Decor

The Kosher Gourmet by Steve Petusevsky Exploring ingredients as edible-stuffed containers (TWO RECIPES + TIPS & TECHINQUES)

Jewish World Review June 6, 2014 / 8 Sivan, 5774

D-Day, the Sixth of June: 'He don't know where, he don't know when'

By Paul Greenberg

JewishWorldReview.com | A scrap of childhood doggerel has become only a memory of a memory by now. They say that's the way the little gray cells record and re-record memories, taping over the previous one and changing it here and there each time it's rehearsed.

By now that little ditty has acquired the patina of a folksong you might have learned at your mother's knee, like "O Susanna." But the sing-song lyrics keep coming back every D-Day.

Was it Cab Calloway or Spike Jones or some other minor but colorful songster who recorded that scrap of song in the wartime Forties? My Internet search for the words has come up empty, but there's no forgetting them, or at least the words I now remember or imagine. Any more than you would forget a promise that help is on the way and growing ever nearer, like the Lord of Hosts himself, about to tumble down the walls of Jericho:

Hitler got the heebie-jeebies,

He knows we're comin', but

He don't know where

and he don't know when,

But we made our reservations--

And we're comin' in . . .

And on this day 70 summers ago, D-Day, the Sixth of June, we came. Like an avenging army -- and navy, air force, marine corps, coast guard and everything else. Terrible as an army with banners, as the Good Book says. And we did not come alone. There were GIs and Tommies, Free French and valiant Poles, the Canadians and Scots and remnants of every captive people of Europe.

Has there ever been a greater or more American force than the one assembled that day? Or a more eclectic one? They might as well have been a cross-section of the country: New England bluebloods and conscripts from Southern chain gangs, New York Jews and good old boys from back home, slum kids from the tenements and scions of Roosevelts, small-town boys from the Midwest (one named Eisenhower) and the corpsmen and nurses and gravediggers prepared to deal with the mountain of casualties about to come. Black and white we came, and every shade in between, all converging on those beaches that would soon be raked by gunfire and covered by the acrid smoke of artillery barrages.

A world in arms was out there approaching the French coast. And it was about to surge, hurling itself against Hitler's vaunted Atlantic Wall, his unbreachable Fortress Europe that would be breached that day by a tide as unstoppable as the spirit of liberty itself. However long suppressed, light was about to come back to Europe, The long night of barbarism was about to lift. And let freedom ring.

There was no stopping such an armada, the greatest the world had ever seen. It covered the Channel as far as the eye could see, a great host come to incarnadine the multitudinous seas with its blood, prepared to turn the green one red. At last, a saga worthy of Shakespeare -- and Cab Calloway.

Old Hitler's got the heebie-jeebies,

He's lookin' mighty slim,

He knows we're comin', But he don't know where

and he don't know when,

But we done made our reservations,

And we're movin' in ...

The code words had already gone out to the French resistance over the BBC -- a few lines from Verlaine's "Chanson d'Automne," Autumn Song. Les sanglots longs/ Des violons ... The long sobs/ Of the violins/ Of autumn/ Wound my heart/ With a monotonous languor.

It was the signal that the time had come. The invasion was about to begin, and the message was clear: Rise up and strike! The gliders had been dispatched from England's green, green fields to fly motorless over the French coast lest the enemy hear them and be warned. They were to plow through the hedgerows of Normandy and disgorge their fighters. The first paratroops were landing behind the enemy lines to prepare the way. And then -- and then the flood tide of freedom would descend on the beaches, God be with them.

The first wave of Americans landed in the wrong place on Utah Beach, luckily. For they came ashore on an only lightly defended stretch of the beach. Their commanding general, Theodore Roosevelt Jr., was his father's son. Realizing they were a mile off course, and with the second wave already coming ashore, he forgot about finding the proper site and just pressed inland. "We'll start the war from right here," he decided. And his rough riders did. They were soon up the beach and driving into France with artillery and armor. The liberation was under way.

The boys at Omaha Beach weren't so lucky. It was a death trap, lined with obstacles, the heavy guns in the impregnable bunkers pre-sighted and murderous. Well, supposedly impregnable. At 13:35 hours 6 June, the German 352nd Division was able to tell High Command that the American assault had failed and been thrown back into the sea. Only the Americans didn't know it. We kept on coming. And the German units on other sectors of the beach were reporting attacks -- from their rear. Somehow the Americans had got through, and behind them. The invasion hadn't failed. It only should have.

The Americans were already clambering up the cliffs. Amid the smoke and fire, the dead and wounded, rising and advancing, our flag yet waved. The Allies had landed. To stay.

By the end of the day, more than 150,000 men were ashore at Gold, Juno, Sword, Omaha ... the beaches were being secured, the wounded being evacuated, the bodies collected, and the breakout was about to begin. Battle after battle was yet to come, and more dead would be piled high, but the Sixth of June, D-Day, was over. And by dawn's early light back home, bells were ringing all over America. We'd done made our reservations and were movin' in.

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Paul Greenberg is the Pulitzer prize-winning editorial page editor of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette.

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