This is one of the oldest synagogues in Mississippi, dedicated in 1905 in my father’s hometown of Lexington, in the hills on the edge of the Delta. There were never more than eighty in the congregation, and the rabbis always drove in from Vicksburg or elsewhere. But, like the ark, symbolized by the handles (or horns) up there on the sanctuary’s roofline, the believers have remained steadfast. There’s talk now–as the Jewish population has dwindled–of moving the building to Ole Miss, but I wonder if that wouldn’t be a mistake. Could be there’s still some draw left in the place, and the population will rise again.
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 