As I was writing about the impishness of my cousin, I recalled two incidents that made me realize that both he and I must have been genetically predisposed to that trait. The one I’m writing about today has to do with a visit to Dothan, Alabama during my 2003 sabbatical. I drove around the country speaking about my father’s experiences in Dachau and as a U.S. Army soldier.

I encountered many different people in the course of the two-plus months, many different venues in which I spoke, many communities large, small and in-between. Dothan’s Temple has the smallest bimah I have ever seen (smaller than the one in Charlottesville, VA which I didn’t think was possible!). Only one person could stand there at a time. And so, the president asked me to sit in the front row and we’d switch once he introduced me.

Right behind me were two rows of teenagers, all girls. They couldn’t have been older than 15, probably 13. I heard them murmuring, whispering to each other. Finally, one of them tapped me on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” she said with a very thick Alabama accent.

“Yes, what can I do for you,” I inquired.

“Is that the rabbi up there?” she asked in a whisper.

I just knew this was going to be fun, lots of fun, and I was going to play a little game.

“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” she said, “we’re from such-and-such a school to hear a rabbi speak about the Holocaust. We don’t know what a rabbi looks like, so we were wondering if that man up there is the rabbi.”

Realizing they fell into my trap, I continued, “I really have no idea. What do you think a rabbi looks like?”

This lovely young lady then said, “Different.”

Not expecting that at all, I asked, “How different? Different from your dad or the other men here?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “just different.”

The president began his introduction. I casually remained in my seat and when he said, “It’s now my pleasure to welcome Rabbi Grumbacher to our congregation,” I turned around and asked, “Am I different?”

“No, sir.”

With that I got up, looked again at the girl, smiled and walked up to the bimah. I cannot begin to describe the look on her face…priceless, for sure.

I am so mean….but I think that taught those kids something.