Clipping, Roots of the Temple (1 page)

chronicle Roots of the Temple by Christopher Hagen With 70,000 congregants, Las Vegas has the fastest-growing Jewish population in North America. To help meet the demand, a $10 million state-of- the-art facility is taking shape in Summerlin, including a 32,000-square-foot sanctuary, social hall, education center, library and youth lounges. But this new Temple Beth Sholom has its roots in the wanderings of the Jews in our desert during the century past. In the 1930s, there were maybe 25, all of mixed backgrounds and beliefs, and often tran- sient. Adele Baratz arrived as a child in 1928 and attended Sunday School classes in the back of A.J. Schur's law office, taught by his daughter, Sallie Gordon. There was no rabbi, but occasional services were held in the Eagles' Hall on Fremont Street. "The ones who knew the services would do them," Baratz says. In 1943, a chapter of B'nai B'rith was founded, with Gordon as president of the ladies auxiliary. "Many of the early Jews never affiliated with any- thing," Baratz says. "This began a sense of commu- nity." Sabbath services became more regular. Upon arriving in 1946, Hank and Barbara Greenspun found "a group of very dedicated citizens making do," Barbara says. Led by the Mack brothers, the group had gathered pledges to construct a build- ing. That September in time for the High Holy Days, the Las Vegas Jewish Community Centre at 13th and Carson was dedicated. Within a year, everyone had met their pledges and the mortgage was burned. The first resident rabbi, Louis Cohen, came in 1948 and he tried to accommodate the congregation's melange of viewpoints. But as Baratz says, "We're famous for eating rabbis." Cohen was only the first. As Las Vegas grew during the postwar years, so did community center activities: the city's first preschool program was begun circa 1950, the youth group held square dances and other events, Jewish Family Services helped indigents, and the sisterhood began the gift shop as a local source for religious needs. A growing contingent of Jewish hoteliers in the '50s meant holiday dinners at the Dunes, Riviera and the Sahara. Jack Entratter brought in such celebrities as Steve Lawrence and Met star Jan Pierce to sing the "Kol Nidre" for Yom Kippur. The center was soon overcrowded, and fund-rais- ing began anew. There were benefit fashion shows and plays, including The Drunkard starring Lloyd Katz and East Lynne, with Barbara Greenspun as the hero- ine. There was a pool party at the Last Frontier where Phil Silvers, Ray Bolger and Hopalong Cassidy auc- tioned their autographs. The top cash producer was the annual gin rummy tournament, hosted by casinos. Many of these Jewish hotel-casino execs were "connected," or at least came from mob back- grounds. Entratter, Moe Dalitz, Moe Sedway, Gus Greenbaum, Davie Berman and Jake Kozloff all were industry kingpins. Some were seen regularly at services, many were not. "These were not deeply religious people," Greenspun says, "but they longed for a sense of community, and they were very con- cerned about providing the younger generation with education and training in the traditions. These men raised a lot of money and volunteered a lot of time." With their considerable help, property was pur- chased at 1600 Oakey and groundbreaking took place in 1956. But as recession hit the nation, con- struction slowed, and Charles Salton, Baratz's broth- er, says the structure was "half-built for a long time. The temple was unable to borrow any more, so everybody took a piece of the old loan." Greenspun recalls that "a group of the men got together, went in and signed personally" on the loan to complete the project. In 1958, Temple Beth Sholom was dedicated. Today there are a dozen or so synagogues in the Valley, but the landmarks of the original congregation still stand. The white-painted brick building at 13th and Carson is now home to the New Life Christian Academy. And the sign in front of 1600 Oakey declares: Spring Meadows Presbyterian Church. Behind that sign is a burning-bush sculpture and, farther back, are massive wooden doors surrounded by Hebrew inscriptions. Soon these will be headed for a new home in Summerlin. But the memories, the tra- dition, the sense of continuity-all tied to the place which was, according to one member, "part and par- cel of our family"-cannot be moved. For many of those who gave birth to the temple and nurtured it through the years, this was the promised land. V Temple Beth in '58