Remembrances of a Founder
by Elaine Stiles

It's hard to believe more than 18 years have elapsed since Miriam said, "Let's create a synagogue!" We four newly or soon to be married interfaith couples knew each other through science fiction fandom and wanted a community that truly reflected us, not one where we'd be lost in the established crowd. Of the four couples, only Pat and Miriam lived near the Park Heights JCC. Phyllis and Mark were in Remington, not far from Steve and I in Waverly. Dori and Paul lived in the Chase area, the extreme northeast part of Baltimore County.

Dori a transplanted Philadelphian, and Phyllis, from the DC area, grew up in the Conservative movement. Miriam, the local, had a smattering of Orthodoxy along with the total identification with the Jewish people only a daughter of Holocaust survivors can feel. I had moved to Baltimore from the New York suburbs where I was raised in the philosophy of "Yiddishkeit" with its emphasis on peoplehood and the left wing labor movement with a bit of Orthodoxy through my live-in grandparents and semi-regular attendance at the classically Reform Free Synagogue during high school and at the original Reconstructionist congregation, SAJ, after college. In high school Dori's husband Paul and Miriam's husband Pat, both practicing Catholics, didn't want to take part in their wives' religious lives. Phyllis' husband Mark, raised as a Protestant, was only peripherally interested. My Steve, also raised as a Protestant, was the most committed to exploring Jewish life.

Miriam arranged a meeting with Rabbi Berlin, then heading the Baltimore Board of Rabbis. I'm sure he would have loved it if he could have convinced the five of us – Miriam Winder Kelly, Dori Grasso, Phyllis Kramer, Steve and I – to join Oheb Shalom, where he was spiritual leader, or one of the other existing congregations. When he saw this was impossible, he provided some practical advice on where to start. Soon we began to meet Friday evenings at various places around outside of the Northwest corridor. Word spread of our existence.

Annette Blank joined us while we were meeting at Morgan while still trying to forge our identity. She was there the night Rabbi Teutch talked to us about the Reconstructionist movement. I didn't need much persuading, and, as it turned out, neither did the other nine people attending including Mark and Steve. I suppose we took Beit Tikvah's first "Leap of Faith" by deciding to affiliate as a congregation rather than a chavurah. Phyllis drew up our incorporation papers listing our chosen name and affiliation and Dori took on the task of first president and primary service leader.

We grew in fits and starts, gradually adding young, single adults and beginning with my mother's relocation to Baltimore, older adults as well. New members found unexpected relationships. Annette had taught Iris Wingert in Sunday School in the Essex area, while Mike and Judy Frumkin knew my brother and sister-in-law through Marriage Encounter and had been members of the same congregation as my high school best friend's family.

While the congregation was still small enough for the Board to be the majority of the membership, we hired our first regularly scheduled student rabbi, Leila Berner, and our first regular meeting place, Loch Raven Baptist Church. The church was just up the road from my mom Anne Mandell's house, the focus of much of our non-service activity. Trust her to move closer to her daughter than to the JCC. She hosted the Board meetings, the student rabbis, the Chanukah party, and, once the Wacks family joined with the other members of their cooperative Sunday school, the preschoolers. Ask Matthew Bugnaski about playing and learning in my mom's basement art studio/classroom. Mom also provided speakers from among her friends and leant her singing voice to our already musically rich tradition.

Mom continued to host Board meetings even after she moved to her condo at Falls Gable in Mount Washington. The departure of Rabbi David Stein, our part-time, in-town rabbi, marked the end of mom's active Beit Tikvah life. She began as our mother and, toward the end, as members' kids proliferated and grew, became the congregational grandmother as well. I only wish those who've joined since Rabbi David left (especially those who joined after Rabbi Liz was hired), could have known her and all she contributed to our community.
Samples of her art will be on display at the Chi Celebration. I hope those of you who knew her will want to take something of hers home with you and give a donation to Beit Tikvah in appreciation of her art and value to us during these past 18 years.

Mom always seemed to live within a short distance of Beit Tikvah. She moved to Falls Gable not long after we moved to our current location. I was President ten years ago when we outgrew Loch Raven Baptist and they outgrew us. I was feeling rather discouraged about finding an affordable, yet inviting, large enough space when Nina Storch made a suggestion. The Storches lived in Rogers Forge at the time. Nina had learned of a church in Roland Park with a financial need to share their building. I called the then pastor and our relationship with First Christian Church began.

I suppose I could continue with recollections of the intervening years. While Rabbi David was here, Steve decided to formally convert to Judaism. He wanted to be able to have an aliah and even read from the Torah. Esther, upon hearing Steve, an active and founding member, say he was converting, quipped, "To what?" Our now 8½ year-old Labrador was a young puppy and slightly scared by Rabbi David's full-grown Lab, Mocha. They became great friends while Steve studied with Rabbi David to complete his conversion.

During Rabbi Liz's first year here, Brian Berle, who'd just lost an uncle, Beth Bugnaski and I, who'd both lost our mothers within the year, were reflecting on the support provided during our time of loss. Rabbi Liz hadn't come on Board when my mom died and Rabbi Josh had left for Atlanta, but Linda Baer, our cantor and mom's friend and neighbor, was there for the funeral and Shiva as were all the members of Beit Tikvah past and present who knew me and my mom. Beit Tikvah has changed over the past 18 years, but its essence remains. It's still a community that reflects us. I no longer know everyone, but even with our larger size, I know that everyone shares a commitment to providing a community you can rely on that reflects our approach to Judaism and the larger world.