By Donald H. Harrison

EL CENTRO, Calif. -- The kosher butcher's daughter from San Diego still observes kashrut in this largely Spanish speaking city in the Southern California desert, but this requires a high level of commitment.

Cynthia Witt Harvie, whose late father Eli Witt was the longtime operator of San Diego's only kosher butcher shop, regularly drives on a 220-mile round trip to San Diego to pick up meats from her father's successors in the kosher meat trade. The Imperial County Jewish community is far too small to sustain its own kosher butcher. The only synagogue in the area, Congregation Beth Jacob, counts only 50 members, many of them inactive.


Cynthia and Wayne Harvie stand on steps of Congregation Beth Jacob, which they lead.  At right,  Wayne shows
a portable ark he crafted to be able to take Beth Jacob's Torah to events around the Imperial Valley.  The image
is of Balaam overlooking the encampment of the Hebrews, when he says (Numbers 24:5) "How goodly are your tents,
O Jacob,  your dwelling places, O Israel..." (click on ark to enlarge image) (Donald H. Harrison photos)

Cynthia and her husband, Wayne, became used to the drive over desert and mountains when their daughter, Stephanie, who now is in her late 20s, was studying for her bat mitzvah. Although Cynthia's job as a teacher and Wayne's practice as a CPA precluded the parents from taking Stephanie to Tifereth Israel Synagogue in San Diego during the week, they regularly brought their daughter for Sunday morning classes, sometimes coming in on Fridays to participate in the entire Shabbat weekend.

Cynthia's determination to be involved in Jewish life, notwithstanding the long distances to Jewish population centers, came into play during the couple's most unusual and memorable Rosh Hashanah.  Ignoring the pains she felt in her back, Cynthia told Wayne they had to drive  to Yuma, Ariz., where High Holiday services were to be held that evening.  Although 50 miles apart, the Jewish communities on both sides of the California-Arizona state line considered themselves to be a single congregation.

The trouble was that the "back pains" started coming more and more frequently, and when there was no longer any denying that Cynthia had gone into labor, Wayne turned around and started driving towards home. But car trouble forced them to pull over at a rest stop that served both east-bound and west-bound traffic on Interstate Highway  8.  Unfortunately there was no telephone at the rest stop, and this was in the days before cell phones. Finally Wayne was able to persuade an Arizona-bound driver to stop at the inspection station in Arizona and to request that the authorities there call for assistance.

That resulted in an ambulance taking the couple back to Yuma, Ariz., hospital where daughter Stephanie was born.

The same kind of dedication exemplifies the Harvies' efforts to keep the Congregation Beth Jacob a going concern, notwithstanding having fewer than 20 active members among approximately 50 members overall  At one point in their twin-town association, the congregants in Yuma, Ariz., regularly drove to El Centro, where the synagogue is located, but after realizing that there were far more Arizonans than Californians in the congregation, they decided they would hold services on their own side of the state line.

The El Centro contingent, in the spirit of good will, donated one of the two Torahs that the congregation kept in its aron kodesh. A case of good Yuman relations.

After a while, some of the Yuma congregants decided it was time to hire a rabbi. Other Arizonans were not so certain that they wanted to take on such an expense.  According to Wayne, the pro-rabbi forces in Arizona "lobbied" the El Centro contingent to vote in favor of retaining a rabbi.  If they did so, the Arizonans promised, the new rabbi would spend some of his time each month at the synagogue in El Centro.

So the rabbi was retained, and conducted some services in El Centro before the anti-rabbi forces in Arizona were able to regroup and carry the day. The rabbi was let go.  However, Friday night services as a result of the rabbinical experiment became more popular in El Centro.  The congregation decided to have lay members conduct such services at least twice a month.

Wayne Harvie, as president, typically conducts the lay services, making it a point to call on various members of the congregation to lead responsive readings and various Hebrew prayers, so that everyone feels a sense of participation.   Cynthia serves as the choir director, and, additionally, teaches Sunday school to a tiny class.

The Yuma congregation a number of years ago reached agreement with the Hebrew Union College about its program to supply student rabbis to remote congregations.  This program brings Jewish learning to such congregations while affording experience for the student rabbis.

Impressed with the program in Yuma, the El Centro congregation also contracted with Hebrew Union
College to provide a student rabbi once a month and on holidays.  Wayne Harvie continues to conduct the services on the other Friday night, although he admits that the ones conducted by the student rabbi typically are better attended.  The young rabbis have proved to be an interesting group of people, with a variety of life experiences. In particular, Wayne remembers one female rabbi who grew up as a Christian in post-Nazi Germany prior to her conversion to Judaism.

About $9,000 yearly cost for the student rabbi program is a major expense for Congregation Beth Jacob, given that the congregation may be one of the few in the world that does not charge its members any dues whatsoever. Instead the congregation relies on voluntary contributions, many of which are made by the Harvies themselves and such other stalwarts over the years as Calvin and Lois Mandel, Mark and Frankie Weil, Jack and Diana Weil, and Dennis and Vickie Cook. 

One member left $5,000 in her will to the congregation, with which the board decided to purchase an air conditioner.

The subject of air conditioning brings to mind the story of how Cynthia Harvie, then married for about a year to Wayne, came to settle in the Imperial Valley.  She had just graduated from San Diego State College, and teaching jobs were scarce.  However,  Brawley needed a new teacher at Witter Elementary School, named after a local newspaper publisher. "Witt, Witter," thought Cynthia.  "That's an omen!"  

So along with her mother, the late Goldie Witt, she drove to Brawley from San Diego in 115-degree heat in a car that had no air conditioner.  The experience prompted Mrs. Witt to decide that Imperial County was a "God-forsaken place," but Cynthia grew to love it.  A year later, after completing his schooling to become an accountant, Wayne followed her out to Brawley, which is about 14 miles north of El Centro.  She later transferred to Oakley Elementary School, where she teaches second grade, and he became a partner in a CPA firm.

To keep expenses low, the Congregation Beth Jacob board decided to share the building with an Hispanic church known as the Latin Assembly of God.  In a sweetheart deal, the synagogue does not charge any rent to the small church, but does ask the Christian congregation to pay the utilities and to look after the maintenance of the building., In addition, the church has agreed not to affix any permanent Christian symbols inside or outside the building.  Although the newsletters and literature of both congregations can be found on bookshelves and on bulletin boards, there are no crosses in the shul.

The building is an aging stucco structure constructed in the 1930s when the Jewish population in the area was quite a bit higher.  Wayne Harvie said in those days produce companies had buyers making so many purchases at Imperial Valley farms, that it made sense for the buyers to settle near the farms rather than to commute from either Los Angeles or San Diego.  Many of those buyers were Jews, .who built themselves a congregation in the most central city of the area, the geographic location being the reason why the city is called "El Centro."

Today, there are very few Jews in Imperial County.  Those that are identified as Jews by Wayne are automatically listed as members of the congregation, accounting for the swollen "inactive" rolls.  Wayne explains that attitudes in Imperial County toward fellow Jews are different than they are in urban areas. If a Jew has a Jewish neighbor in San Diego County who doesn't attend the same synagogue, it doesn't cause any concern, he said.  The first Jew assumes the second Jew is a member at another synagogue.  But in Imperial County, he says, if the second Jew doesn't belong to Congregation Beth Jacob, then he doesn't belong to any congregation.  So Wayne, as president, makes it a point to be a recruiter.

Among the congregants are several Hispanics who have converted to Judaism from Christianity.  Wayne Harvie said in some cases these Hispanics believe that they were of Jewish descent, perhaps from people who converted from Judaism to Christianity under the threat of the Spanish Inquisition. These Jews-by-choice studied in San Diego with Rabbi Leonard Rosenthal of Tifereth Israel Synagogue.

The Beth Jacob president said there also are some Jews living not too far from the congregation in Mexicali, the capital of Baja California. However, he said, because of long delays at the border in the wake of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on New York and Washington D.C., the Mexican Jews do not come nearly as often.

As the keepers of a Jewish outpost in California's desert, the Harvies often findi themselves called upon to come to the aid of travelers, or their families. In one case, an Orthodox Jew driving from the East Coast to California missed a sharp turn and was killed in the resulting accident.  The Harvies recited psalms over his body at the funeral home until the family could recruit Orthodox Jews to take over the ritual.

With their home telephone number--(760)  344-3436-- listed over the door of the synagogue for anyone with inquiries, the Harvies receive a fair share of requests for financial assistance from cash-strapped Jews whose cars or trucks suffer mechanical breakdowns.  And, they are constantly being recruited to speak at schools and at civic groups about Jewish holidays and Jewish affairs.

It is a life that keeps them Jewishly involved every day.  In a county where many people aren't quite sure exactly what a Jew is, the Harvies are keeping the candle of Yiddishkeit burning bright.