No Rabbi Heschel in "Selma" movie? Inexcusable!

I was looking forward to seeing the new movie, Selma.  Emblazoned in my heart is the iconic photo of Dr. Martin Luther King marching with Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel in the front row.  A photo that for my generation has come to symbolize the unity between Jews and African Americans during the 1960s.  For years I have told friends, family, and students to "watch for the man with the bushy white hair and beard" in the original Selma footage.  Unfortunately, in the new movie Rabbi Heschel does not appear in this scene or anywhere else!  The omission has me -- along with a lot of the Jewish community -- wondering why not.

Marching from Selma to Montgomery: 
John Lewis of SNCC, an unidentified nun, 
Rev. Ralph Abernathy; Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., 
Ralph Bunche (former U.S. Ambassador to the UN), 
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, and Rev. Fred Shuttleswort

I can understand film director Ava DuVernay's desire to make a film that focuses strongly on Black leadership.  There have been too many civil rights films already with white sympathizers as the main characters.  (I have the same complaint about Holocaust films that focus on non-Jewish supporters -- of which there are also too many.)

And this is not the only revisionism in the film.  The King estate did not allow the filmmakers to use King's real speeches, so his words are paraphrases. That's not so bad, viewers say.  But to omit showing Rabbi Heschel -- or any rabbis for that matter -- is puzzling.  I find it hard to believe that DuVernay could not have known who Heschel was, given how close he was to Dr. King in those years.  Surely she did her research?  Or did she think the guy with the bushy beard was just some sort of hippie?  (Read more on that theory...)

The appearance of Heschel (second from the right) in that famous photo was not tokenism.  Rabbis and lay Jews alike were involved in the lunch-counter sit-ins, the Freedom Rides. the early protests.  Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner -- both martyred on the same night as James Cheyney -- were both Jewish.  And while it is true that Southern rabbis tended to lay low publicly, for fear of antisemitism and violence against their congregations (some synagogues were actually fire bombed) many helped behind the scenes.

Rabbis from other parts of the country were more vocal.  Peter Dryer, in his January 17, 2015 article in the Huffington Post, " Selma's Missing Rabbi,  lists the following rabbis who came to Selma (Plus Rabbi Leon Jick, who is not on Dryer's list but was at Selma, according to this article):

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (grey beard on the left),
Dr. King (center) and Rabbi Maurice Eisendrath
(holding the Torah) in front of the State Capitol in
Montgomery, Alabama

Israel Dreisner (Temple Sha'arei Shalom, Springfield, NJ)
Maurice Eisendrath (president of the Union of American Hebrew Congregations)
Albert Friedlander (rabbi for Jewish students at Columbia University)
Herbert Teitelbaum (who led a congregation in Redwood City, California)
Gerald Raiskin (Peninsula Temple Sholom in Burlingame, California)
Joseph Gumbiner (director of UC-Berkeley's Hillel)
Joseph Weinberg (Congregation Emanu-El in San Francisco)
Saul Berman (Berkeley's Congregation Beth Israel)
Mathew Simon (spiritual leader of a Los Angeles congregation)
Steven Riskin (New York City's Lincoln Square Synagogue)
William Braude (Temple Beth-El, Providence, R.I.)
Saul Leeman (Cranston Jewish Center in Rhode Island)

Nathan Rosen (director of Brown University's Hillel center)
Maurice Davis (Indianapolis Hebrew Congregation)
Arthur Lelyveld (Cleveland's Fairmount Temple)
William Frankel (Beth Hillel Congregation, Wilmette, Illinois)
Sidney Shanken (Temple Beth-El, Cranford, N.J.)
Allan Levine ( Temple Emanuel of Rochester, N.Y.)
Andre Ungar (Temple Emanuel of Pascack Valley, N.J.)
Perry Nussbaum (whose synagogue, Temple Beth Israel in Jackson, MS, was bombed in 1967)
Leon Jick,  Professor of American Jewish history at Brandeis University

And that doesn't count unknown Jewish laypersons.  But most visible of all was Rabbi Heschel, right up there in the front row, only one person away from Dr. King.  Messing with this image is, to me, a sort of historical sacrilege, like changing the profile of the flag raising on Iwo Jima or the 13 stars on Betsy Ross's flag.  Some things are not meant to be changed.  I'm not asking that Jews be given equal time.  All it would have taken was to have an actor made up like Heschel for this scene.  Would that have been so hard?

King and Heschel had met at a conference on "Religion and Race" at the National Conference of Christians and Jews in 1963, where Heschel gave the opening speech and King gave the keynote address.   After the first Selma March, known as "Bloody Sunday" (March 7, 1965), Heschel led a delegation of 800 people to FBI headquarters in New York City, protesting the lack of protection for the marchers.   King invited him to come to Selma for the next march and he did.

Afterward, Heschel made that moving statement that has become a watchword among Jews and gentiles alike:

"For many of us the march from Selma to Montgomery was about protest and prayer.  Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling. And yet our legs uttered songs. Even without words, our march was worship. I felt my legs were praying."

Heschel and King remained close friends and continued to work together.  When King won the Jewish Peace Award, it was Heschel who presented it.  In fact, King was looking forward to attending a Passover Seder at Heschel's home, but was assassinated before that could happen.  Rabbi Heschel was the only rabbi to speak at King's funeral.

A still from the movie.  That guy on the far right sure doesn't
look like Heschel, even though he is in the same place.

So, with all these iconic images and events, why don't we see Rabbi Heschel -- or any other rabbi -- in the movie, when we do see King embrace a Greek Orthodox priest, and can recognize a Roman Catholic priest, a Protestant minister, and other clergy in the front row?  One reviewer does make mention of "an elderly Jew in a yarmulke" -- and there is such a gentleman standing in the place occupied by Heschel in the original photo.  But Heschel usually wore a beret -- not a yarmulke.  And this stand-in, if indeed he is supposed to be Heschel, lacks the bushy hair and beard of the real Heschel.  So much so, that Jewish reviewers do not see him as such.  Neither do I.

Which brings us to another production detail that was pointed out by Ulrich Rosenhagen in The People's Legs Are Not Praying: Why "Selma" was not the Interfaith Movie I was Hoping For.  In the original film footage, King and others are wearing flower leis. given to them by a Hawaiian delegate.  In Hawaiian culture, the leis are a symbol of peace between rival or warring clans.  By extension, a symbol of racial and religious unity.  But as Rosenhagen writes:

"In the movie the protesters aren't wearing flower leis. I don't point this out to quibble with the director's costume choice but rather to draw attention to the curious absence of the spiritual sentiment that held these marchers together. They firmly believed that only a religious faith capable of transcending clannish religious divisions could challenge the deep injustices of American society. This confidence in a divine love that made the overcoming of such religious parochialism possible swelled in the hearts of the marchers and anchored the close friendship between King and Heschel. The activists truly felt that the many faces of God had their eyes on Selma."

Maybe the leis are gone for costuming reasons, out of concern that modern viewers might find them strange or puzzling.  Then again, that could have been solved by showing the Hawaiian representative giving them and explaining the significance.   Or maybe -- sadly -- the spiritual-political unity my generation felt back in the 1960s is gone.  Maybe the film unconsciously (?) ended up reflecting that.  In recent years there has been a lot of tension between the Black and Jewish communities, something that makes me very sad.

I had hoped this movie might bring back the story of how Jews and African Americans had once worked together for freedom.  But with Jews omitted from the script, that message is lost.  And that, too, makes me very sad.

(This article was updated by the author on May 6, 2019)

* * * SEE ALSO * * *

Fresh Controversy Hits Selma: Daughter of Abraham Joshua Heschel "Shocked" by Exclusion of her Father from Film  article in the Algemeiner

"Selma" distorts History by Airbrushing Out Jewish Contributions to Civil Rights  -- The Forward

What Selma Meant to my Dad, Abraham Joshua Heschel -- Suzannah Heschel in The Forward, also reprinted in several other Jewish pubs

Following in My Father's Footsteps - Suzannah Heschel.  Interesting personal memories.

Why My Grandfather -- and my Dad - Marched in Selma -- Zoe Hick in Haaretz

Another Failure of the Selma movie: Why Did It Leave Out Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel? -- Jeff Dunetz in The Lid.  Has nice photos, including  a telegram Heschel sent to King in the Birmingham jail.

Negro Marchers from Selma wear Yarmulkes in Deference to Rabbis -- reprint of a March 22, 1965 article about a little-known show of solidarity

Jewish Voices from the Selma Montgomery March  -- some interesting firsthand stories -- including a Sabbath service -- about Jewish participation at Selma, from the Duke University Library, which houses the collection of Heschel's papers.

When we marched together in Selma - S.L. Wisenberg in The Forward.  Some Selma history plus a look toward hope for the future.

Praying with my Legs  -- a two-hour upcoming documentary on the life and teachings of Rabbi Heschel.  A worthwhile project -- and definitely needed, as all of this controversy over Selma will attest.  Visit the site and consider donating to the project.

On Anniversary of Selma, Remembering the Civil Rights Activism of Rabbi Heschel (VIDEO)

Koko and Appleblossom, my two latest rescue kittens

A couple weeks ago, some cruel, heartless person dumped a box of kittens outside the laundromat in Sandstone, Minnesota (nearest town to where I live).  My daughter-in-law Leona was there and saw the car pull up, throw out the box, and drive away.  She tried to get the license number but it was too dark outside.  (In Minnesota, dumping animals is a crime.  As it should be.  A curse on people who do this cruelty!)

Leona went and got the box, which was fastened shut and moving as the poor cats struggled to get out.  Inside were three kittens -- two grey tabbies about 6 weeks old and an older kitten who looks like a purebred Siamese.   She brought them to me that same night.  All three were cold, thin, sick, and frightened.  It's a mitzvah to help an animal in need, even if it is a stray and even if the suffering is not your fault.  So of course I took them in.

The smallest grey tabby (in the middle of this picture) was just skin and bones and had diarrhea.  In spite of my best efforts, he died two days later.  This is the only picture I have of him, taken the day after the rescue, and you can see how weak and tiny he was.  But at least he had warmth, food, cuddling and love for the last days of his little life.  I had been calling him and his sister "Majnun and Layli" after characters in a Middle Eastern legend, but when Majnun died, it was just too sad to keep calling his sister Layli.   So she became "Appleblossom" after the cat in the book by that name written by Shulamit Levi Oppenheim.  (One of my all-time favorite Jewish children's stories.)

The Siamese we named Koko after the famous cat detective in the "Cat Who" series.  And he certainly does love to snoop around!  Both cats are now doing fine and very bonded to me -- they cuddle when I lie down and sit on my lap whenever they can.  And they come running every time I go in the bathroom, which is where I feed them so the other cats don't take their special kitten food.  It did not take them long to learn where the goodies are!

My other cats have accepted them pretty well, with varying degrees of attention.  Annabelle, who has always been a little grump, growls if they get too close, so she's not too happy about it.  But Sapphire, my old blue-eyed neutered male, licks their faces and cleans them.  Angel Cat doesn't go that far, but she lets them sit next to her.  As for all the others, they seem to just sigh and say, "Here we go again!"

Koko and Appleblossom curled up together.
I'd call this pic "A Tail of Two Kitties!"

Orion launch: One small step toward Mars, one big nostalgic moment for me

This morning I woke up at 5:50 AM, just in time to tune in and watch the launch of the Orion spacecraft at 6:05 (Central time).  This was both a big moment for NASA and a nostagic one for me.  The newscaster said this was the farthest out in space that the USA had sent a spacecraft since the last Apollo mission in 1973.  The thing is, I'm old enough to remember those Apollo flights, as well as the earlier Mercury and Gemini programs.

I grew up in the space era.  The sound barrier was broken by Chuck Jaeger on October 17, 1947, just 13 days before I was born.  (That was also the year of the supposed alien landing at Roswell in July.  It has always been a family joke that I'm weird because I got zapped by an alien mind beam.  I was in my mother's womb in California at the time, so who knows?)

Ten years later, Sputnik orbited the earth.  I can still remember the day that my father showed me the story in the morning paper.  The same paper had times listed for when you could see the tiny satellite cross the sky.  That was a big deal back then, as we went into the backyard to look for that pinpoint of light.

Then the space race was on, and every kid I knew (and a lot of adults, too) were tuned in to the space program.  Like everyone else, I went through a phase of wanting to be an astronaut.  That never happened, but I still fulfill my love of outer space with Star Trek and movies like The Right Stuff and Apollo 13.  (I've lost track of how many times I've watched that movie, but I will say that Gene Kranz's line, "Failure is not an option!" has become a watchword around our house.  It's my favorite movie for how a group of people working together can achieve the seemingly impossible.)

"Earthrise" by Frank Borman

One of the interesting things about space flight back then was that the famous picture of Earth rising over the moon wasn't even on the original agenda.  Until the Apollo 8 astronauts actually saw that from the lunar orbit, nobody had thought to include it in the list of photographic goals because nobody could picture it.  But Frank Borman knew a good picture when he saw one, so he pointed the camera and clicked.  That photo -- as well as many others of the "blue marble" -- has become a universal symbol of the unity we might one day have on our planet.  It was no accident that the first Earth Day happened in April 1970, less than a year after the Apollo moon landing.

I was 22 and living in South Dakota when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon in 1969.  People today who claim the moon landing was faked don't know what they are talking about.  Sure, the pix are fuzzy, but that's because the cameras and transmissions back then weren't a good as today.  But for those of us glued to our TV sets during the live transmission, there was no doubt it was real.  Cynics ask who was taking the photos of that first step, but the answer is simple:  The Eagle lander took them, the same as there was a camera on board Orion that took pix of the earth receding as the craft rose into the sky, etc.  No, my conspiracy theory friends, the Apollo moon walk was very real.

Photo of Mars showing a thin atmosphere.
What else will we discover there?

Today's Orion mission was a test flight for new equipment -- including a heat shield and a re-design of the Mercury-type capsule -- that may eventually be used for a trip to Mars.  A lot of people will ask, why go there?  It's so expensive, what do we get from it?

True, it is expensive.  But the technological  advances we got from previous space missions have long since paid for themselves.  One example being those thin, light, but very warm materials we now use for so many things.  (I've got a pair of winter boot liners made of the same stuff as astronaut space suits.)  Learning to put satellites in orbit has given us GPS, cell phones, global communications.  Etc.  And the quest for lighter payloads has given us smaller and smaller electronics.

So who knows what we will learn from the Mars mission?  I say, let's go!