Security risk - The Jewish Standard

How did she do it? Get aboard an international flight with no ticket purchased? Where were all the different layers of security? Maybe all security is just a giant very expensive hoax!

And where does security end, or begin? Airports are reputed to be among the most secure and safe places in our world. Right? Well, maybe not.

I’ve been to many airports. Most of them x-ray or frisk and document-check before you board the aircraft. But, most importantly, not before you enter the vast lobby where anyone can easily enter and meander, even those with less than benign intentions. Worldwide, very few airports have pre-entry surveillance. Very very few. And even that is far from comprehensive. But let’s come to grips with it — security is really not to protect us, the flying public. It’s to protect the airplanes.

And can anyone explain why that security is so visible and invasive at airports but virtually nonexistent on subways or buses?

All credit to the little nation of Israel, by the way, where security actually begins with an informal scanning of all who enter the terminal building. That young woman at the first entry door, she’s not decorative. She was trained to ferret out the bad guys — or gals.

Thus, perhaps we all need the power of prayer instead of the frantic and exhausting security checks, which, anyway, let that lady get all the way to Paris from our own USA with no impediments in place to stop her. Or even slow her down. Lucky for her fellow passengers, she only wanted to get a free flight.

And then there’s me.

When they see an old person, like me, in lots of places security checks are totally ignored. It’s apparent that the checkers, whether they be the similarly ancient supermarket personnel in Israel, barely able to stand by themselves as they poke and peek into your purse (but rarely mine), or the airport interrogators anywhere asking if anyone gave you an item to deliver, anything at all, if you’re gray-haired, wheelchair-bound, or barely hanging onto a cane, or leaning into a walker, or if you’re deeply wrinkled, the deeper the better, your security check will be, at best, perfunctory.

Hey! I don’t make the rules. But that’s how things are! To gain quick entry to the school or store or plane or fancy apartment building or top secret government institution, just look old. The more feeble and frail you seem, the less they’ll consider you a security threat. I often fantasize about writing a novel where the main character is a woman terrorist, a very old, very fierce, very menacing, very ancient person. The problem is my character just doesn’t exist. Fierce and frightening are simply not descriptive of us anciennes.

As I’ve grown old, and that seems to have been overnight, I’ve realized that I’m more and more impervious to the needed checks that you younger folks endure. Security takes one look and usually waves me in. No questions asked. I’m simply not a danger. This is pretty much universal thinking. Believe me! And the truth really is that I’m not dangerous at all. With my slow unsteady gait and aching feet, even if I wanted to do anything nefarious, I couldn’t pull it off. Frail elderly like me cannot even open the lid on a jar. And even when I do enter the mandatory security line, I look at the checker and witness his bored gaze as he passes my stuff down the conveyor belt. It doesn’t bing, and he looks beyond it anyway.

But security is nonetheless not a funny topic. We humans do the best we can to protect ourselves and each other, but there’s simply a limit to how efficient we are. We fortify, shield, and defend, but in the end, good fortune, plain old luck, is an imperative.

The other day a few fellow Jews and I went to an annual interfaith Thanksgiving event at a local church. There were all types of Christians in attendance, Presbyterians to Baptists, and a few Muslims. The service was completely pareve, nothing objectionable. We were all cordial to one other. We could have been at a movie theater or show or any other friendly environment. But I made one observation that distinguished this event from any event at all at, say, our synagogue. There was no nice guy, in our case named Peter, standing at the door, armed with a serious weapon, ready to defend us from intruders, invaders, or any who wanted to do harm to any in our friendly congregation. Whenever we convene at shul, Pete, his nickname, as I now call him, guards the front door as if our lives depend on it. And if he’s not available, a substitute is in place. And actually our lives might very well depend on it. Pete checks the periphery of the building regularly and makes sure that every person who enters has an innocent reason to do so. He knows us, recognizes each of us, and cheerily waves us in. That’s the good news. But, in contrast, Pete was not needed at the church. The security level was zilch. We Jews must have our guards. Other groups simply do not need that level of protection.

The bad news is that Jew-hatred, known as antisemitism, is rampant, and we must have guards at schools, shuls, camps, and all the other places where Jews are known to convene. This protection costs our congregation — and that’s all of us who’ve been politely waved in — plenty of money that could really be used very well to fill in gaps in other areas of our budget. Yet, we feel compelled to have Pete and/or his colleagues. None of us would bring a weapon to shul, and even though we have a pretty substantial alarm system, and we’ve been trained what to do in case of a terrorist attack, Pete is our ultimate defender. We need him. Places like American shuls in Pittsburgh and San Diego reinforced our fears, places where Jews were slain simply because they were at worship in their own synagogues. Jewish history is very instructive, and it behooves us not to ignore it.

Strangely, I have yet to see a security guard at a synagogue in Israel. I have seen many in Europe, over a great number of years. We used to think America was safe. We simply don’t have the luxury of thinking like that anymore.

Of course, if you’re flying, you don’t need to be Jewish to go through security checks. Events like 9/11 have changed the dynamic of flights dramatically. No more can you entertain your little kids with an impromptu cockpit tour. And everyone aboard knows when the pilots use the restroom. The entry is closed and forbidden until they are safely back in the locked-up cockpit. And heaven forbid if there’s checked in luggage for a no-show. That can cost you hours in time to retrieve the missing suitcase packed with someone’s personal stuff.

These onboard customs are preceded by the usual long lines at security checks, which oftentimes make departures totally miserable, as you stand on your feet before boarding, enough to exhaust you before you’ve left your home airport. And please remember to empty your water bottle. All necessary and all annoying.

We used to think that security was simple. Then came 9/11 when we incredulously looked above and saw planes used as weapons to destroy what we thought were impervious buildings packed with thousands of people, some of whom some of us actually knew!

And of course, nuclear is a word in all of our vocabularies, a word that cannot be ignored but really cannot be reckoned with either.

So what’s a person to do?

I don’t know!

Rosanne Skopp of West Orange is a wife, mother of four, grandmother of 14, and great-grandmother of eight. She is a graduate of Rutgers University and a dual citizen of the United States and Israel. She is a lifelong blogger, writing blogs before anyone knew what a blog was! She welcomes email at rosanne.skopp@gmail.com

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