Seth Gitell

𝗔 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝘃𝘀. 𝗛𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 My uncle, David A. Adler, is a well-known author of children’s books. (You may know his fabulous Cam Jansen series.) Fifty years ago, he published 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘰𝘧: 𝘈 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘬𝘰𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, based on a true story from over a century ago involving my great-grandfather, Nathan Adler. The story goes that Nathan built a sukkah on the roof of his apartment building. The owner of the building, who is said to have disliked Jews, brought Nathan to court the day before Sukkot to force him to take down the sukkah. The judge ruled in favor of the building owner and, looking at Nathan sternly—but with a twinkle in his eye—ruled that he had eight days to dismantle the sukkah. This account has been passed down as a cherished family story over the generations. Recently, I have been wondering how much the story we tell comports with what actually happened. The story was preserved and passed down for a reason—and that reason is what dictates how the story has been told and retold. And once my uncle published the story in print, it likely took on a somewhat novel trajectory. Just as an example of a historical problem I’ve recently considered: a sukkah built on someone else’s property is invalid if the owner of the land does not acquiesce to having the sukkah there. My great-grandfather was a learned man and surely knew this. I am not sure how this affected his actions. My family will doubtless continue to tell this story in the years to come. I am sure that the story will continue to develop from year to year and from generation to generation. My historical musings will have no effect on this—which is one of the beautiful things about cherished stories. Happy Sukkot to all who celebrate!