The Sayzeh Song: Book Two

By Chaim B. Segal

Seventh grade and the summer that followed brought a combination of new life experiences and a few sad farewells. A careless four words led me to suffer my first broken bone. On the heels of my recuperation, I got to witness Smoky, our family cat, giving birth. It was the first birth of any species that I was ever present for.

There was the excitement of the arrival of the first early model Kurzweil Reading Machine at Sinclair Community College, and my attendance at Camp Stone for the last time would open my ears to popular music in an entirely new way. But in other respects, that session at Camp Stone was deeply disappointing.

An important part of my life would soon come to a sudden halt. The demise of choir was equivalent to the death of a very deep section of my heart.

Experiences gained both inside and outside of school since my start at Stivers would set the stage for my 8th grade year to be one of great transition. This will be the subject of Book Three.

So let’s continue where we left off. In Book One, I introduced you to my family, starting from its inception, then focused on my growth and development. In this book, we will first set the stage for the story ahead, then journey through the last half of my 7th grade year as a new student at Stivers and the subsequent summer.

Again, a hearty thanks to you, my readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chaim B. Segal
• Release date: May 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005217105

Book preview

Farewells and Debuts

As the above heading suggests, 7th grade and the summer that followed brought a combination of new life experiences and a few sad farewells. Soon after my switch from Hillel Academy to Stivers, a careless four words led me to suffer my first broken bone. Fortunately, this did not put as much of a damper on becoming acclimated to my new scholastic setting as it could have, and I found out rather quickly that I could still function close to normally during the healing process. On the heels of my recuperation, I got to witness Smoky, our family cat, giving birth. It was the first birth of any species I was ever present for, and it proved to be an especially moving experience I will never forget.

With the end of my 7th grade year, inevitable boredom and cabin fever were somewhat relieved by trips with my father to perform an important religious necessity, and even more so by the arrival of the first early model Kurzweil Reading Machine at Sinclair Community College. Finally, my attendance at Camp Stone for the last time would open my ears to popular music with an entirely different approach than ever before. The latter will be a bigger focus in succeeding parts of my story.

Though the future was seemingly bright, I had no idea that an important part of my life would soon come to a sudden halt, which for me would mean the end of a lifelong hope—mainly, the honor of touring with the Beth Abraham Youth Chorale. For me, the demise of choir was equivalent to the death of a very deep section of my heart.

My last time attending Camp Stone would prove highly disappointing, despite my coming to see popular music in a new light. Discomfort in camp would cause me to make the sad choice of disappointing friends and returning home, where boredom and cabin fever would resume until the start of school.

Experiences gained both inside and outside of school since my start at Stivers would set the stage for my 8th grade year to be one of great transition. This will be the subject of Book Three.

So, let’s continue where we left off. In Book One, I introduced you to my family, starting from its inception, then focused on my growth and development. Here, we will begin by setting the stage for the story ahead, then journey through the last half of my 7th grade year as a new student at Stivers and the subsequent summer.

Again, a hearty thanks to you, my readers.

Prologue

Before I begin Part Two of my story, here is somewhat of a blueprint of my personal setup at the start.

First, I need to clarify something about my first name, Chaim. Hebrew is not the natural language of choice for most of the characters in this story, including Dad and Mom. In the secular world, I’ve had to be known as Hyim, because the English language lacks a sound comparable to the Hebrew letter Chet. It should not be thought that I have two names.

To set the stage for the start of my story, I will now describe my family at this time, in 1983.

Dad

At age 48, he is extremely overweight and has resisted several diets. He has been teaching psychology at Central State University for around 15 years. At this time, I understand that he is sick and tired of working there. He is trying to see if he can retire early. I myself do not totally understand why he’s in such a hurry to get out of there. As would be expected, he and Mom more or less direct the flow of what goes on in our household.

Mom

At this point, she is three months shy of her 45th birthday and is in relatively good health. She has begun taking courses in preparation to enter nursing school at Sinclair Community College, the area’s main community college, located at this time at the edge of downtown Dayton. An extremely sensitive person with a truly big heart, she is looked up to by many people in the community. Though she stands behind Dad in most instances, her giving nature makes her a little more allowing of some of our choices than Dad is.

Charlie

At the approach of his 22nd birthday, he has just finished training in the Ohio Air National Guard.

He is now studying journalism at Ohio State University. At this time, I don’t know that he’s studying journalism. He’s living in a tiny room of a basement in a house located in a strange neighborhood in Columbus, Ohio, near the OSU campus. At this time, other than keeping kosher to a moderate degree, he’s not observing Judaism very strongly. However, he’s happy to observe the laws with us on his visits home.

Ray

At age 18, he’s trying to work and pay his own way through the New School for Social Research in Manhattan. I have no way of knowing this, but his living situation there is not what I would call stable. Since my Bar Mitzvah, he’s come home to visit a few times. However, tension and chaos in our house cause him to feel uncomfortable when he comes home. In addition, he and Dad view the world pretty much from opposite angles. Thus his visits are few and far between. With very few exceptions, he’s given up all religious observances, and he makes no bones about the fact that he no longer observes when he comes home for his brief visits.

Moshe

At age 16, he’s midway through his sophomore year in high school at Hillel Academy. His situation there is better than mine ever was, and he’s benefiting from both the Hebrew– and English–language subjects that are taught there. However, both Mom and Dad are slightly dissatisfied with his being at Hillel Academy. Though he and I still have our share of brotherly fights, we’re closer to each other than Charlie and Ray ever were. It’s possibly our blindness that brings us together.

From the time he was born, everybody in the family has called him Moishe (pronounced Moy–shee), and that was his actual name throughout this story. He will have it legally changed to Moshe in a few years.

Me, Myself, and I, Chaim

I’m 14 years old as of October 29, 1982. I’m extremely thin and look younger than I actually am. I’m slightly ashamed of my position in school as a 7th grader at my age. However, I realize that I myself am not to blame for my having fallen behind in school. Until this time, the remainder of the family has been unaware that I have a slight problem processing information in school and elsewhere. It has not impeded my learning in a major way by this point, but in the long run, it will come as a great surprise to some important people on the outside. If any of my teachers have noticed anything, they’ve probably concluded that any learning difficulties I appear to have are a direct result of my blindness.

While this is absolutely not the case, at this point in time, my blindness does have a direct bearing on how I perceive other people and on how I assume they perceive me. From the time I was very young, nothing has made any lasting impression on me unless it directly relates to me or my situation. As a matter of fact, it was not until the spring of my ninth year that I began to understand that Dad actually taught at Central State University. Although I visited the university several times during my youth, it took me a good while to understand that it was a university campus and not just a place where a billion things happened.

Having heard stories on radio and TV news involving incidents of people being killed, I have chosen to purposely avoid news reports as much as possible, unless I’m listening to hear about something specific. In order to feel comfortable at this point, I absolutely have to believe that unpleasant events don’t happen that often, despite what I’ve experienced at Grant School and Hillel Academy. I am unaware that my three older brothers know a reality I don’t, and Dad and Mom, for the moment, assume that I have a good eye on my environment.

At this time, my favorite foods and beverages include juicy hamburgers with French fries, chicken soup with matzo balls, turkey, meatloaf, potato kugel, kishka, donuts, pumpkin and coconut custard pies, chocolate mint patties, various types of ice cream, root beer, and eggnog. I’ve had a strong dislike for raisins nearly my entire life. This dislike has almost amounted to fear whenever I’ve come upon a raisin or two that I was not expecting in a bakery item or other dish of any type.

At this point, I think it would be great if I could develop more of a social life for myself, but I don’t know where and how to start. I enjoy some of what goes on in the family, such as good meals on Shabbos and happy holiday gatherings. However, I despise the tension and chaos that seem to arise in our house for no reason. I have no idea how both this tension and my own internal tension will affect what is to happen to me over the next few years. However, I have always been determined to make every situation in life work for me.

From a year before my Bar Mitzvah, davening has been a regular part of my day. I pray in Hebrew, using a Siddur much more than Moshe does. I have absolutely no idea of the meaning of about 90 percent of what I’m saying, but feel that I’m paying my dues as a Jew by davening. I feel that I may somehow save Jews in the Soviet Union by doing it and will prevent another Holocaust from happening. I enjoy leading services at Shul—especially on Shabbos and Yomtiv. I sing and chant in a melodic manner, but have almost no idea of the meaning of what I’m delivering to God on behalf of the members of the Shul. Dad and Mom are very proud of the fact that Moshe and I can lead the davening for the congregation.

To me, each holiday of the year, whether Jewish or American, has its own special splendor. Pesach (Passover) has always been my favorite holiday, despite the tension that goes along with it. The nature of our celebrating festivals as a family has changed over the years, but not so much that it’s not something worth looking forward to anymore.

We have our fifth dog of my life. His name is Tov. He’s a mixed breed, but his dominant breed is Black Labrador. He was given to us by Edward Sinter, a friend and colleague of Dad’s for the past 10 years. Edward gave Tov to Dad back in June, about a week after school ended. (Edward Sinter will be described at a more appropriate part of the story.) Dad drove Tov home from Wilberforce one evening, and he and Mom accepted him into the family on the spot. At the time, we had adopted a cat a week earlier, naming her Mazal. JoAnn Basch, who was visiting at the time, suggested that we name the dog Tov so that we would have Mazal Tov—Hebrew for congratulations.

Mr. Sinter had rescued Tov from the streets of Wilberforce. He had been mercilessly abandoned by some African students who had gone back to their country after a year of study at the university. These students left Tov to wander the streets after brutally abusing him for as long as they held him captive. As Mom, Moshe, and I bathed him in the basement, we pulled worms out of his emaciated body. For the first few days of his living with us, it was an effort for him to climb the stairs of the house. He is a very loving pet, but I also find him to be annoying, as you will soon see in the story. I also theorize that it’s because we own him that we’re not part of the inner circle of Shomrei Emunah. I won’t understand the real reason for this for another 12 to 13 years.

Since last Sukkos, we’ve also had a gray female cat which Mom adopted from a local fruit farm. Mazal disappeared a while before, and Mom decided to adopt this other cat, whom we named Smoky. Smoky is not spayed and is about to go into heat. Lucky for her, there are several male cats in the neighborhood.

Moshe and I are still in the Beth Abraham Youth Chorale. Last year was a smashing success, as we celebrated the Beth Abraham Youth Chorale’s tenth anniversary. This year, Cantor Kopmar decided not to have a tour. He regretfully apologized to me at the beginning of the year, but he promised that should the choir continue next year, I will go on tour. The choir is performing a work based on the Hallel service in honor of the State of Israel’s 35th anniversary. They performed this work in 1973 as well.

Moshe and I are good friends with Michael Kolstein. He’s a few weeks older than Moshe, and they’ve known each other for a little over three years at this point. Michael’s family is a little more comfortable financially than we are. Like the Shoffmans (described below), they find it easy to maintain good relations with those in the community who have a little less. Like me, Michael Kolstein is about to leave Hillel Academy. Some of his reasons differ from mine. He’s sympathetic to my cause. In fact, he’s defended me more than once when he’s seen a classmate of mine try to antagonize me for no reason. The Kolsteins do not keep Shabbos and live way out in the suburbs.

We’re also good friends with the Shoffman family. They’re a unique family, but not the happiest. Like the Kolsteins, the Shoffmans have limited religious observances and have chosen to live out of the city. They live a few blocks away from Hillel Academy. Melvin, the husband and father, is an intellectual gentleman who travels the world doing work for the U. S. Postal system. His wife, Gilda, is one of the best kosher cooks in the area. It seems that she has an uncanny instinct for finding out the personal information of everyone in the community, and when she can, she’s glad to step in and help out where she can. She’s helped our family through some very difficult times without our even asking her to. She is a caring woman, ready and willing to help in any emergency.

The Shoffmans have three daughters. The oldest daughter, Elaine, is in my class at Hillel Academy. The two of us share being looked down upon by several classmates.