Rabbi Begoun could barely believe his eyes as he saw emblazoned on the woman’s sweatshirt “Michigan” in Hebrew letters. The couple was even more astonished at the sight of the three distinctly religious-looking men congregated on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. If ever there was an opportunity to “bagel” this would have been it, and the gentleman said the only Jewish word he could think of, “Good yuntif.”
“Ehh, what are you guys doing up here?” Mr. Beachcraft Baron questioned, unable to conceal his incredulity.
“We are here to perform a ritual divorce.”
“Hey, I just got divorced.”
“Were you and your wife,” questioned Rabbi Senderovic looking up, “both Jewish?”
“Yep.”
“Did you give her one of these?” the Rabbi queried, pointing to the document.
“Nope.”
“Sit Down, Your Next!”
This time, without looking up, Rabbi Senderovic commented, “Sit down, your next!”
The return flight was delayed and from what Alex could tell they were going to have to divert from Timmerman Field Airport as a dense fog was rolling in over Lake Michigan. Alex did not wish to do an instrument approach and kept communicating with ground control who assured that the airport was still clear. That sure wasn’t what Alex was seeing.
Night fell across the sky like a curtain, and for the encore dark clouds blew everywhere, snuffing out the stars dozens at a time. A storm had coalesced, jagging the sky with bad electricity. And yet, the tower kept reporting that the clear weather was still holding. The plane’s tank was on empty, and if Alex was going to divert, there was precious little time to implement an alternate plan.
Pilot Goldman dropped down and saw the threshold lights and chevrons directly ahead. The runway was remarkably dry despite howling winds and crashing thunder. The second they touched down, raindrops the size of small squids splat against the windscreen, followed by blinding rain. It was terra firma for the mitzvah performers, who completed their mission – two for the price of one.
