October 2022
When asked to write a short article about following in my father’s footsteps (literally) as an usher at Holy Blossom, I immediately and gladly, agreed to pen something. However, having agreed to share some reflections, I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d write about. Let’s start at the beginning.
My father, Jack Leonard Toker, was a lifelong member of Holy Blossom Temple (HBT); and his parents, Moses (Moe) and Veronica (Vici), became HBT members shortly after they were married in 1926. My dad started ushering in his early twenties and continued well into his seventies, before “retiring” his lapel flower. For over 40 of these years, he was a fixture on the northern balcony at High Holiday services before his (downward) promotion in his sixties, to the main floor of the sanctuary.
At the time, I recall being a bit disappointed by his move to the main floor. Because our dad was stationed on the balcony, my sister (Ann) and brother (Richard) and I had perfect excuses to sit up there. As I recall, the balcony was a preferred spot for kids because it was somewhat distanced from most of the adults (except the latecomers) and provided both a perch from which to view people coming into the sanctuary (my sister’s favourite pastime) while also being concealed from many in the sanctuary, allowing my brother and me to perhaps pay less attention to the service than we ought to have.
While his children may have had mixed feelings, my father’s move to the main floor was a G-dsend for our mother, Pauline, who, to this day, sits more or less in the same seats and row located on the northern side about two-thirds back from the Bimah.
Shortly after my father’s passing in 2019 and my rejoining Holy Blossom, a call went out from Gerry Prendergast looking for members willing to serve as ushers throughout the year. As quickly as I agreed to write this little piece, I threw my name forward and shortly thereafter became an usher.
Why did I volunteer to be an usher? Was it from a sense of duty to my father, or tradition, legacy, or service? I’m sure all of these factored in some way, but more than anything else, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time.
I had just under a year of experience and was beginning to get the hang of ushering before the pandemic struck in 2020. Thankfully, this year, for those who choose to, we have returned to in-person (and online) services. I was thrilled to have been able to usher in the (apologies) new year at Rosh Hashanah and most recently, Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur day services. Under Gerry’s tutelage, and recalling my father’s facility as an usher, I think I’m getting my sea legs.
With that background, I would like to share a few usher’s reflections.
I’m not exactly what you’d call an extravert, but as an usher, one can’t help but meet people. Here are a few examples.
I arrived really early for Kol Nidre services. When I entered the sanctuary, there were only two other congregants seated. A short “Shana Tova” and “boy, you are here early,” later, we realized that our sons were best friends. We knew and had met each other’s sons and had been in touch through email but had never met in person. Thanks to this encounter and to my son’s (Luca) chagrin, I may be joining him, his buddies and their parents at their next concert together.
On Yom Kippur morning, I was able to catch up with my son’s former principal, who was extremely supportive through our son’s middle school years. He also happens to be the younger brother of a good friend of mine while growing up and the son of close friends of my parents. It was great to catch up with him and it wouldn’t have happened if not for my ushering.
I met the woman, who unbeknownst to me, had been proposed to by a distant relative and had turned him down. How’s that for a little ancient family intrigue?
I also chatted with the daughter of my father’s lifelong best friend. She actually said to me, “I see you are extending your father’s legacy”! And, because she had an Aliyah, (and therefore a reserved seat), I actually showed her to her seats. You see, being an usher is not just chitchatting and socializing. There’s work involved!
And, when I wasn’t busy escorting families to their seats, juggling reserved seats, consulting with the Gabbai (e.g., “Has so-and-so arrived yet? They have an early Aliyah and I need to know they’re here yet and where they’re seated”.), I did catch myself looking up to the balcony and thinking about my dad with fondness and love.
