In the languid Deep South in the year 1913, an energetically nervous, former Brooklyn Jew, Leo Frank, skipped out on the Confederate Memorial Day Parade and went to work at the pencil factory he managed, instead. Among Atlantans, a mere 50 years after the War of Northern Aggression, even relocated Yankees were expected to mark the solemn day with respect.

New York City has always been a metropolis of menace. The Irish gangs of Five Points, the Italian and Odessa Mafioso, the Chinese Triads, the Son of Sam. Those of a certain age can still recall that blighted urban era of 1960s and 1970s. Entering Central Park—at specific times, and at several entry points—was a high-risk venture. Neighborhoods and areas that would one day become fashionably hip—SoHo, Alphabet City, Tribeca, the East Village, the Lower East Side, Williamsburg, even Times Square—were unfailingly avoided at all cost.

Israel just celebrated its jubilee anniversary — 75 years of modern statehood. Yet, not unlike the way near octogenarians are shamefully neglected, few paid much attention to Israel’s special birthday — including many Jews.  The party atmosphere was manifestly absent. Perhaps no one wanted to risk being photobombed while Zionists blew out candles. Indeed, with such sparse well-wishers, even “Happy Birthday” went unsung. A conflicted diamond anniversary was very much a dud.