“I was born in the Soviet Union, and we moved here for religious freedom when I was two months old. I’ve been in the United States ever since and moved to St. Charles from Seattle just as the lockdown began. I have six brothers and one sister and I’m the only practicing Jew. My great-grandfather was a rabbi. Then my grandfather became agnostic after World War II. He stopped believing because he thought, ‘How could this be possible?’ seeing family members dying in front of him during the Holocaust.

I always used to walk around wearing a kippah and it was very noticeable. People would go, ‘Oh, he’s a Jew.’ And I always got strange looks. I was on a work trip, landed in Philadelphia, and drove to Georgetown, Delaware. I remember I stopped at a gas station and, as I got out of the car to pay, a guy on a motorcycle pulled up. There was a big iron cross on the back of his bike and a swastika on the side. I walked in, paid for gas, filled up my car, and this guy kept sitting on his motorcycle. I tried to avoid making eye contact.

I didn’t know the area very well. I didn’t want any trouble. As I started driving, he followed me. I got on the interstate and sped up 10 miles over the speed limit, then 20 miles over, and I think I hit 115 or 120. He not only kept pace with me but accelerated to pass. I figured if I got pulled over, I’d explain the situation. I kept on accelerating to 125, and after about five miles, he took an exit and just left. That was one of the biggest experiences of antisemitism I think I experienced. After that, I decided, ‘I’m going to start wearing a ball cap.’”

📷| Bill Motchan