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Shame, shame, shame I was horrified to see the opening headline "Beauty and Brains" (Summer '97) announcing the newest winners of scholarships named for pioneering McGill women. Has McGill yet to rise above the sexist attitudes which require the mention of a woman's physical attributes in association with her achievements, scholastic and otherwise? The story below captioned "Irish Eyes," in contrast, omits adjectives such as "beautiful" and "blue" in describing the eyes of Gavin Ross, announcing his retirement from the McGill Alumni Association. It seems in his case, his physical attributes were not deemed relevant to his contributions to McGill. Michael Savage, BCom'84
Strong, silent type Your article on McGill Hall-of-Famer, Jack Gélineau, BCom'49, (Martlets, "Hall of Famers", Summer '97) was read with great interest. Permit one factual correction. Jack Adams was the majordomo with the Detroit Red Wings. Weston Adams, Sr. and Art Ross guided the fortunes of the Bruins. Jack Gélineau was an exceptional all-around athlete, as well as a good student. Jack was starring at Montreal Catholic High School, along with Fred and Tommy Bridel, BCom'48, while I was cribbing my way through D'Arcy McGee High School. Our two schools rivaled the Martins and the Coys. These institutions produced top athletes S.A. (Steve) Walker
The Bagg Street Synagogue: A Memoir. Your Spring 1997 article concerning the Bagg Street synagogue brought forth a rush of memories. In the 1960's and 1970's, it was my custom to draw my own Jewish New Year's greeting cards. The thought of commemorating one of Montreal's many "Shtiblach" somehow appealed to me. A "Shtibel" (singular) literally means a little home, but in fact often refers to a small synagogue. Montreal's East end (now 'the Plateau') was littered with these small congregations. They most often originated as a Jewish Landsleit group; these were loose associations of immigrants from a particular locale of Eastern Europe whose members could meet occasionally and commiserate about the hardships of the new land. Many small religious congregations grew out of these associations and had strange names like the Yishitzer, the Bassarabier, the Wilkomirer or the Anshei Ozeroff which told more about their origins than about their beliefs. They would rent or purchase a modest property, install a sign over the entrance, usually of black background with gold lettering, and in this way make known their existence. Thus, huddled together in the comfort of prayer and familiarity they would engage a rabbi, usually a part-time schochet (ritual slaughterer) and tutor of recalcitrant 12 year old boys learning the readings for their bar-mitzvah. He would serve as Rabbi, Chazzan (Chanter) and often Shames (caretaker) and was invariably the poorest member of the congregation. Girls were not similarly honoured; Bat-Mitzvahs simply did not exist on the "plateau" at the time. In the area bounded by Pine, Hutchinson, Laval and Van Horne it was possible to come across one of these houses of worship on most streets, every few hundred yards. Perhaps it is a childhood exaggeration but I would hazard that there had to be not less than 50 such institutions in the area described above. They were generally low on décor and often low on decorum; nonetheless they helped forge good Canadians. Our own congregation, the Machziki Hadath, was made up of immigrants from Dinovitz, Proskurov and Kamenetz-Podolsk, and was located in a converted stable on De Bullion near Rachel Street. We moved often in those days - it was the custom. Rents in the 1930's and 1940's were anywhere from $20 to $30 a month for an unheated walk-up. Come May 1, it seemed that 25% of Montreal's Jewish immigrants were on the move; essentially, it meant one got a paint job. Between 1930 and 1942, my family moved in and out of 4 such dwellings, all within three blocks of the Bagg Street synagogue. One of those dwellings, the one in which I had my Bar-Mitzvah, was at Bagg and Clark, diagonally opposite the Bagg Street Schul, or the Beth Shloime as we knew it then. In order to draw a "typical shtibel" I researched the area for the most representative of these little synagogues, and found that they had nearly all evaporated. It was natural that the Beit Shloime, which had survived, was the best choice. Strictly speaking, the Bagg Street shul is not a typical 'shtibel'; after all, it was not a converted home but was built as a synagogue. However, its charm and small size made it qualify. The cornerstone, in Hebrew only, (Bill 101 had not yet come into existence) describes its construction as having taken place about 1925. Who designed it and who built it, I never did learn. That the congregation was not wealthy was obvious on many counts. In the first place, its location was away from the larger and more important streets. The material is a soft brick and the only external concession to ornament was an oversized, naively decorated, barrel vaulted canopy over the main entrance. The interior was similarly undistinguished, but its women's gallery gave it a certain innocent charm and airiness. The oversized 'oren koidesh' or sanctuary was a gift from one of the synagogues (the Shaat Hashomayim, I believe which was relocating at the time from its downtown location to Westmount). How they got the Oren into the building, I don't know, but it is possible that it was brought in before the building was fully enclosed. To get back to my greeting card, the drawing worked out well and I had people I barely knew calling me for copies because they had seen it and remembered their own past connections with the Shul. The most memorable call came from a friend, the late B. J. Schwartz (B. J. Shacket, McGill Nursing School), widow of Dr. Arthur Schwartz, another McGill graduate. Her son Clifford was being Bar-Mitzvah at the time and she thought that it would be nice to have the ceremony at the Bagg Street shul, and would I make available the drawing for use as an invitation. I was flattered and of course agreed. B. J. Schwartz at the time was struggling to raise three young children on her own and I shall never forger the feelings generated at that wonderful Bar-Mitzvah of young Clifford. Her many friends rallied to the occasion which turned out to be a most heart warming ceremony. There have been sporadic attempts at reviving the congregation but, until now, all have petered out. The original members have long since disappeared, but in some strange way, the congregation has managed to hang on. There were times when it had a daily minyan, serving those who worked in the area and had to say Kaddish or commemorate a Yahrtzeit. I was aware of several McGill connections. One such is Mr. William Kofman, McGill Eng. 1947, who has appeared for many years during the High Holidays with his shofar to 'daven' and usher in the New Year with the sounds of the ram's horn. Another individual to have taken an interest in the preservation of the building was Dr. Naomi Paltiel (Lowy), McGill Medicine. One can walk through blocks of these streets and not even see a trace of what once was. In one house there used to be what we called the Rumainisheh Shul, at another the Poilisher, the Galitzianer, and so on. That they have all disappeared leaves one with a sadness and the wish to see preserved what little remains. In our heritage, there is Yizkor, the injunction to remember. Harry Stilman, You can e-mail: Janicep@martlet1.lan.mcgill.ca | |||
although the ranks were badly decimated by the war years. The McGill Redmen were incredibly tough and talented in '46, led by their captain, Dr. Bob Brodrick, MD'47. They competed at every level with teams of semi-professional status. Tops in every endeavour, Jack Gélineau is deserving of all accolades. Incidentally, his career was not just "accountancy." He was a very competent administrator at a respected seniors' residence in Westmount for many years. He epitomized the "strong, silent" type which has become an extinct breed.