When I was a small child in Houston, in his off-hours from the area police department, my father used to moonlight for a synagogue, back when neo-Nazis were horrifically attacking Jews throughout the city. He was liked so much by them that my family was invited there a few times as they had various celebrations.
I have forgotten much in my life, but I have never forgotten how kind and loving they were to me.
But that was about forty years ago. Thankfully, while in Tulsa last weekend, a friend asked if I wanted to visit the Sherwin Miller Museum of Jewish Art, 2021 E 71st St., as it’s been on her bucket list for a while. “Yes!” I exclaimed and within a few minutes, we paid our small admission price and were absolutely absorbed by not only the history of the Jewish people, but the art and design as well.
