Senior rabbis at large congregations rarely found time during the day for a quiet moment. One meeting always ran right into the next. Rabbi Groh had been doing this work long enough to know that if he wanted some time to work on his High Holy Day sermons, he would have to carve it out on his schedule well in advance. The problem was that every time he sat down to write, another pressing phone call or emergency would interrupt. On this day, as he sat down at his desk, his iPhone started buzzing.
He glanced down at the screen to see who was calling, hoping it was someone he could ignore for the time being. However, after seeing the name of the contact that appeared on the screen, he answered immediately.
“Yehoshua, how are you? What’s happening my friend?”
“Shalom, Eitan.”
“It’s getting late in Israel. Are you still at work?”
“Eitan, I am in DC. We are in the same time zone.”
“What? You are here in the States? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming? Can you make it down to Florida? It would be great to see you.”
“I need to see you too, but not in Florida. Eitan, I need you to come up to DC tomorrow.”
“What are you talking about? You know it’s just about Rosh Hashanah. I can’t just leave town.”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about. Eitan, I am not here on holiday. This is business, and we need to talk.”
“Ok, sure. What is going on?”
“Not on the phone. Come to DC and I will tell you all about it.”
“Is the State of Israel going to buy me a plane ticket?”
“You know the answer to that, Eitan. Of course not. Just get here ok?”
“Ok, my friend. I will see you tomorrow.”
* * *
The Israeli Embassy sat on the picturesque, tree-lined corner of Van Ness St. and International Drive. It was not a coincidence that the building was set back further from the street than its next-door neighbors, the embassies of Ghana and Bangladesh. While their buildings were located directly along Van Ness St., the world’s only Jewish state had its DC home positioned away from the street and surrounded by a strategically placed thick trees.
When Eitan’s taxi arrived at the gate, a young Israeli security man in a black suit asked Eitan for his passport. The man was well aware of every scheduled visitor to the embassy, and he knew exactly who Eitan was. Nevertheless, he took his passport and retreated back into his small guard stand. A couple of minutes later, he reemerged and handed Eitan back his passport. The large gate began to swing open, revealing a path that led toward the embassy.
“Welcome to the embassy, Rabbi Groh. You may enter here.”
Before Eitan could answer, the guard turned to the taxi driver, and said simply, “You may not.”
Eitan took a moment to pay his fare and thank the driver. Realizing that the driver might not be familiar with the tone of Israeli customer service, as he placed his credit card in the machine he said to him, “He’s usually a lovely guy. Don’t judge him just on this moment.”
The cab driver nodded but did not give any sign that he recognized or appreciated Eitan’s attempt at humor. Emerging from the cab, Eitan whispered, “Oh well,” as he made his way towards the embassy. He had only walked a few meters before he caught his first glimpse of Yehoshua. He was standing in front of the entrance, wearing a black leather jacket and holding a cup of coffee.
“Gets chilly in DC this time of year,” Eitan said, extending his hand towards his friend.
“It’s freezing here. Even colder than Jerusalem gets in the winter. Come on, let’s go inside.”
Upon entering, Yehoshua guided Eitan through the security office, where he passed through a metal detector and was handed a visitor’s badge. Yehoshua then pointed to a box and asked Eitan to place his cell phone inside of it, which he did without protest. After passing security, Eitan followed his friend down a hall and towards a small conference room while attaching his visitor’s badge to his shirt pocket.
“Can anyone just come and visit the embassy and walk around back here?” Eitan asked Yehoshua.
“Of course not.”
“Then why do I need a badge? Doesn’t everyone here already know I’m a visitor?”
“I have no idea, Eitan. I will check with the foreign minister on that policy the next time I see him.”
Eitan was not surprised at his taxi driver’s lack of appreciation for his sense of humor, but Yehoshua usually shared his dry wit. Today, however, Eitan could see that Yehoshua was in work mode. Something was of grave concern, and his friend was in no mind for lighthearted banter.
Eitan stopped talking and followed Yehoshua’s lead. The hall they were passing through was lined with portraits of past ambassadors. Eitan paused briefly when he passed the striking countenance of one of his heroes, Yitzhak Rabin. Rabin rarely smiled, and this picture was no different. His stern gaze reminded everyone who passed by of the importance and consequence of their mission.
Eventually Yehoshua turned right and entered a small meeting room. Inside sat one man behind a table. Spread out on the table were various pictures and files, and the man appeared quite immersed in the contents that lay before him.
“Gilad,” Yehoshua said.
Gilad looked up and for the first time noticed the two men who had now entered the room.
“This is my friend Rabbi Groh,” Yehoshua began.
“From Miami Beach, yes, I know. Please, Rabbi Groh, join me. We have much to discuss.”
As an Israeli, Yehoshua was used to being interrupted, and he did not mind that Gilad did not allow him to complete his introduction. Yehoshua had known Gilad for over ten years. He was not embassy staff. He was a Mossad man who worked very closely with his counterparts in the States. And he was the first person in Israel to discuss with the Americans any new threat to the American Jewish community.
Once Yehoshua and Eitan were seated, Gilad jumped into his briefing. He explained how his counterparts in the US had traditionally kept his office abreast of anti-Semitic threats in the States. In the past, it was the usual suspects, who were more bluster than action. But as everyone knew, the political upheaval over the last several years brought with it a reinvigoration of radical elements. And this time, they had the internet. For the first time, enemies of the Jewish people were finding each other all over the country. In recent years, a unique team of FBI agents had been appointed to monitor them. For the most part, they kept their findings to themselves. However, when a threat reached a certain level of danger and imminence, it was Gilad who would receive their call. Now it was Eitan’s turn to hear what he had learned.
“The FBI has an undercover agent who is embedded within a cell in rural Georgia. They are better organized and more secretive than most of the other groups we track.”
Eitan’s eyes were trained on Gilad. He listened intently to each and every word. Just from the mention of the state of Georgia, he had a feeling he knew where this was going. Georgia was way too close to Florida. Once again, Eitan realized he was a target.
“As of right now, this group we are monitoring has not committed any acts of terror of which we are aware. But they are different than many of the white supremacist organizations we follow. Especially in that part of the country. What we have learned from our informant is that their main enemy is not the African American community. It’s the Jewish community. And while they have not done anything yet, we have reason to believe that something big is in the works.”
“Why do you think that? Don’t most of these groups spend their time distributing ridiculous flyers and spray-painting swastikas?” Eitan asked.
“Fortunately, that is the case for most of them. We have not seen much violence since the Pittsburgh tragedy, but that doesn’t mean that we can ignore these threats.”
Eitan had hoped momentarily that Gilad was going to agree with him, but in reality he’d known what Gilad was going to say. And he knew that he was right. He remained still and continued listening to Gilad’s briefing.
“This group in Georgia is proud of its German roots, and Nazi ideology is at its core. Its mission is to focus the cause of America’s troubles on the Jews. Not immigrants, or the economy, or any other factor. They want Americans to recognize that the Jews are the cause of all their troubles.”
“Something we have heard before, no?” Yehoshua added with a sense of concern.
“When they tell us they hate us, believe them, right?” Eitan responded.
“Unfortunately, that is a lesson we learned the hard way. I can assure you we will not make that mistake again,” Gilad confirmed.
“This group we are looking at now calls themselves the Society of Germanic Americans,” Gilad continued.
“Catchy name,” Eitan quipped.
“It is a group that goes back over nearly a hundred years. It lay dormant for centuries after World War II, but apparently the grandson of the founder is having success resurrecting the group. And he is a problem. Our source has infiltrated his inner circle, and what we have learned is terrifying. No one other than his inner circle and his own little group of henchman are aware of his plans. But at their last big meeting just a couple of nights ago, he told his followers that something big was about to happen.”
“Rosh Hashanah,” Eitan said to himself but loudly enough that Gilad heard him.
“Well done, Eitan. You are getting good at this,” Gilad said.
“Unfortunately,” Eitan said in disbelief. “Do we know where they are planning their attack?”
“Well, Eitan. That is what we want to talk to you about. This may not be easy to hear, but we need to share it with you,” Yehoshua interjected, trying to offer some compassion and empathy. But Eitan wasn’t interested. He just wanted to know what they knew. Sensing Eitan’s concern and eagerness to learn the truth, Gilad continued the briefing.
“From what our source was able to gather, they do have a target. Their leader is well versed in what he calls the ‘Jewish problem.’ He railed against the government of Ukraine for caving to the Israelis and the puppets of the Jews in Washington. And he is determined to have the last word.”
“He is coming after me because of my involvement?”
“Yes,” Gilad answered. “You and your congregation. Our informant was able to uncover his plans and send us detailed information. The plan is to attack on Rosh Hashanah. He thinks this will send a message that there will be a price to pay for Jews trying to control American affairs.”
Eitan looked at Yehoshua. Yehoshua’s eyes met his. “I guess, here we go again,” Eitan said softly.
“I am sorry, my friend. But just like last time, you are not alone. We are not going to let anyone harm you or your congregation.”
Eitan nodded in agreement, but Yehoshua noticed that tears were beginning to well up in his friend’s eyes. The nightmare was not yet over. But neither was his determination to protect his friend and his people, no matter where or when the enemy chose.