Rei'ach HaSadeh Vol 5

178 Rei’ach HaSadeh

however, my father learned about other Jewish roots, as deep as those of
the trees which graced the property of the old brick house.

From the 1830-1860s, a wave of young German and Eastern
European Jews arrived in the United States, and a small subset of these
individuals chose to set out for rural communities. By one estimate, on the
eve of the Civil War about 16,000 young Jewish people wandered as
peddlers across the US. These brave people were on a mission to make
a comfortable life and brighter future for themselves as well as their
families. Additionally, many also faced the same direction and prayed the
same words three times daily that we do today. They refrained from
working on Shabbos and kept strict laws of kashrus.

One rural area to which they were attracted was known as the Slate
Valley, where the quarries of Western New York and Eastern Vermont
produced slate that was shipped to cities such as New York and Boston.
With this mass production came opportunities for commerce for these
young Jews. Poultney, Vermont became one of the hubs for this group of
young Jewish immigrants. There, they established the first synagogue and
the first Jewish cemetery in the state of Vermont. A “pinkas,” or
recollection of daily events of the community, was recently uncovered
– a fascinating story in of itself – which reveals the story of Jewish survival
in this community. The community diligently kept Shabbos, observed the
High Holidays, and kept kosher. Almost overnight, however, due to
changes in the slate industry, this congregation and community dissolved –
leaving only the pinkas and a cemetery behind.2

While my father lived in Poultney he was, as far as he knew, the
only Jewish individual in a town of about 3,000. Imagining a Jewish future
was difficult, as the only evidence of Judaism in his town was an
overgrown, abandoned, and then-derelict cemetery. But inspired by the
final resting place of 83 individuals who had preceded him to Poultney by a
century, my father established a much stronger connection with his own
Jewish identity. As he began to delve more into Judaism, he started
spending Shabbos in Boston, and also traveled to Jerusalem to learn in
depth at Ohr Sameach. At this point, he realized that if he wanted to
maintain an Orthodox lifestyle, it would be best to move to a more
established community. Shortly thereafter, he met Janet from Oceanside,
New York who was in Boston at a Shabbos dinner he also attended.

2 Robert S. Schine, “‘Members of this Book:’ The Pinkas of Vermont’s First Jewish
Congregation,” The American Jewish Archives Journal, 60, 1 & 2 (2008), pp. 51-98 (regarding the
Poultney congregation).

Gabe Cooper 179

After getting married, my parents decided to move to New York,
where they raised my siblings and me in Riverdale, Merrick, and West
Hempstead. This decision was easy in that a Jewish infrastructure – active
shuls, options of schools, and kosher food – was already in place. For my
father, however, there was, and is to this day, quite a bit of nostalgia for the
serenity, beauty, and rawness of Poultney, Vermont. My father’s connection
to the Jewish community of the Slate Valley at a much more isolated period
of his life was among the reasons my parents raised us to feel connected to
Jewish values and to play active roles in our community.

Our Cooper family history came full-circle earlier this year.
We were blessed by the birth of a baby boy, whom we named Samuel Paul
in memory of my grandfather Paul, who lived his remaining years with
vigor in that old brick house in Poultney. Shortly after Sam was born,
I noticed a link on Facebook describing a Jewish teenager, Netanel Crispe
from Danby, Vermont, who had raised over $15,000 to repair and restore
the cemetery in Poultney. I immediately contacted my father. Eager to tell
Netanel about the Cooper connection to Poultney, we touched base
with him as well as Ari Sohn from PreservUs, an organization that digitizes
and restores cemeteries. On a cold Saturday night, the energy over Zoom
was palpable as the four of us shared stories of how we are connected to
this remote town. We also encouraged each other to forge ahead in our
respective communities with the same kind of strength and enthusiasm that
had driven the Jewish community of the Slate Valley.

The Jewish vitality of Poultney – and certainly many other
communities in places across America – has all but been forgotten since the
late 19th century; but for my family’s former hometown, this year was
a success. The headstones and the surrounding grounds of the Poultney
Cemetery have been restored, as have the souls of those buried there been
honored and uplifted.

I view my new family’s growing roots in Springfield to be strongly
connected to what once was the thriving Jewish community in Poultney.
In the same way that my father left for an environment more
accommodating to his needs, the Jewish community of the Slate Valley left
for more opportunities to thrive. That my father was so inspired by the
connections he cultivated in that remote New England town makes my
family’s new chapter in Springfield that much more exciting. I also hope to
feel more connected to a center of Jewish life – at the shul that is down the
road from me on the corner of Mountain and Shunpike, and also to a small-
town cemetery, over 200 miles away, nestled on a country road between the
Adirondacks and the Green Mountains.

180 Rei’ach HaSadeh

Gabe Cooper, his wife Rachel and son Sammy have lived in Springfield for just over a year.
He is a resident in Podiatry at Atlantic Health. In his free time Gabe enjoys finding and taking
off the beaten path local day trips; cooking Indian-style dishes; and reading about American
Jewish history.



Congregation Israel of Springfield
www.congregationisrael.org