Seeing one’s father cry is an intense experience. I feel it to this very day
But my father was a hard-working, 24/6 family man, not the “go bowling with the guys at the lodge” type. He never attended any of the meetings, never joined the activities. His social circle was contained almost wholly within the shul and day school community, and I never knew him to hang out with the other lodge members.
One day I saw him making out a check to pay his membership dues to B’nai B’rith’s Aaron Milstein Lodge #49.
I innocently asked, “Why do you belong to a B’nai B’rith lodge?”
My father told me that the lodge was named after a kid he grew up with, and he felt an obligation to belong. Now I was even more curious. I pressed him for details.
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