The Temple, or as it was also known, The Hebrew Benevolent Congregation, was originally located at the corner of Richardson and Pryor. 1 It wasn’t until 1931 that the congregation moved further away from downtown and transferred to the intersection of Peachtree and Spring Street where it still stands today.2
The New Guy in Town
On April 7, 1946, Jacob M. Rothschild was discharged from active military duty, and months later, he was offered a position as head Rabbi at The Temple. At the same time, the current Rabbi, David Marx, was retiring, and Rothschild accepted the offer, assuming the role of community Rabbi during a transitional time for this synagogue. After arriving in Atlanta, Rothschild began his new life, and now lived among, “the keepers of history, those men and women placed by their social, religious and genetic inheritance on top of the human pile- the ‘white power structure,’. 3 Rothschild was now surrounded by southern social structures, dominated by the white elite who believed it their sacred duty to maintain this order in Atlanta.
Atlanta was a foreign place for the new rabbi, as he quickly encountered segregated areas for both blacks and whites. Everywhere he went, Rothschild felt dislocated, surrounded by unfamiliarity. While riding the streetcar to the synagogue, he discovered more Jim Crow practices, and it was all very confusing to him as he never got used to it. He quickly became intolerant of the casual racial humor used during this time. “By the time he shook hands with the Temple board members eagerly awaiting his arrival, he was unsettled, a slightly more perturbed man than the one they had hired,” said Greene.
What made Rothschild distinct in the eyes of the board who hired him was that he was all-American, a veteran, and an overall sensible guy, “not too otherworldly, not too Jewish, a regular Joe who played poker and football and just happened to be a rabbi,” Greene said. After his experiences with the racial hierarchy that dominated Atlanta, Rothschild had a new priority in his position, ensuring he and his congregation were accepted by the rest of the city. He wasn’t visibly Jewish like his predecessor, he didn’t wear a yarmulke or any special clothing. He was the perfect Jewish man to advocate for the rest of his community, counteracting the white supremacists that faced the city.
The goal wasn’t a total social revolution, but rather to make connections with influential people in Atlanta to earn their favor towards the Jewish community. The question remained, however, would the city’s elite allow Jews to progress along with the rest of the city? Rothschild was hired for his leadership and potential to lead the charge on Atlanta’s power dynamics and ensure Jewish peoples’ participation in increased commerce and civil affairs. Around the same time, in the summer of 1946, America’s first Neo-Nazi was created in Atlanta, with the central motivation of hatred towards Jews. “Their members wore armbands bearing the drunken thunderbolt design once worn by Hitler’s Elite Guard,” said Harold Martin in The Atlanta Constitution. 4
One of the members of this group, George Michael, arrived in Atlanta, and like Rothschild, he pondered on the racial relations of the city. The two men’s purposes differed however, Michael believed African Americans and other ethnic communities as inferior, and so he joined this new organization, vowing to protect the supremacy of his fellow white men. Rothschild was made quickly aware of these kinds of men, but he wouldn’t cross paths with one for another ten years. The Temple continued to serve the Atlanta Jewish community, maintaining its reputation as the city’s most prominent synagogue, but the history of The Temple contained another crucial element, a violent attack on the structure in 1958.
What Happened
Early in the morning of Sunday, October 12, 1958, apartment residents near Peachtree and Spring Street awoke to the sound of explosions. Later that morning, around 7:30, Rabbi and his wife, Janice Rothschild, awoke to the phone ringing. It was the synagogue’s custodian, Robert Benton who had arrived at the damage, a large hole where the entrance used to be, with shattered glass everywhere, and broken symbols of Judaism. This destruction signified another age in which a temple had been destroyed.
Reflection
Janice Rothschild published a memoir in 1983, detailing her experience during this time. Throughout her essay, she recounts how religious leaders and politicians denounced this unspeakable crime that was committed against The Temple. She believed in the minds of the perpetrators, the attack wasn’t motivated by Jewish hate, but by the so-called, “white demographics,” of the congregation. 5
Towards the beginning of her memoir, Mrs. Rothschild said Atlanta was a city of churchgoers, and academics, both black and white, confused as to how such a thing could happen. “Atlanta did in fact contain the basic ingredients for understanding inter-group harmony,” she said. Regardless, the bombing had happened, and by noon that day, the news had been broadcast on all national outlets and became international news that evening.
She recountede how letters poured into The Temple office from all over the world. Plenty of them were from non-Jews, as well as monetary contributions to assist with the repairs, despite the frequent announcements from the synagogue that insurance was fully covering it. Money continued to be sent in, however, signifying that this was a serious matter to everyone, even those who weren’t affiliated with the congregation. Damage costs were estimated to cost about $200,000.
Aftermath
On the day of the attack, Rabbi Rothschild received a letter from the minister at Custer Avenue Baptist Church. The letter contained sympathies expressed to him and his community. 6 The following day, Rothschild received another letter from Koinonia Farm, an international Christian agricultural community located in Americus, GA. “Friends, we love you and want you to know that we are suffering with you,” said Conrad Browne in the letter. 7
These letters exemplified how the overwhelming tragedy of the bombing reached communities outside of Atlanta. Koinonia had a history of attacks on its property by the KKK and used that shared experience to relate to the congregation. For under God, there is neither rich or poor, free nor slave, Christian or Jew,”. Koinonia’s letter was another example of an unrelated community to The Temple expressing solidarity.
Not even a full week after the attack, The Atlanta Constitution released an article that described five suspects who were indicted in the attack, one of them had escaped by was eventually seized.8 One of them, Richard Bolling, was labeled as the central figure and was captured when detectives R.W. Davidson and B. Compton stopped his car while driving on Deering Road NE. The detectives received a tip that Bolling would try and flee that morning, and he did not resist arrest when found.
Bolling was one of the five who were indicted by Fulton County, charged with the bombing of the synagogue. Another suspect, Luther King Corley, was relieved of his indictment and was later released. Despite this, Judge Virlyn B. Moore sent the remaining suspects into custody of county sheriff T. Ralph Grimes. Wallace H. Allen, Kenneth Chester Griffin, Allen Bright, and Bolling were all charged with the willful and malicious destruction of a place of worship within the city limits.
The next day, Atlanta newspapers were swarmed with concerns and sympathy from citizens regarding the attack. It seemed as though the entire city of Atlanta bore the emotional impact of the crime, as several of Atlanta’s ethnic and religious communities were among those who sent messages to local papers. “They were not all Jews, or Catholics, or Negroes, the minority groups who might be expected to express their feelings strongly,” said Martin in a 1958 article in The Atlanta Constitution. 9 Messages also came from regular citizens of Atlanta, who were all horrified by what had happened.
During this time, in the late 1950s, Atlanta was known for its public image of ethnic tolerance. “Atlanta, like Paris, was a special place, which left everybody who visited here a pleasant memory of warmth and friendliness,” said Martin. The Temple bombing did not align with this image, one that welcomed strangers and where free worship was granted. The main concern expressed in this article was asking how Atlanta would ever emotionally recover from such an incident.
Why?
To try and understand the motivation behind the attack on The Temple, we need to pay attention to the social climate of Altana during this time, beginning with May 17, 1954. The ruling of Browne V. Board of Education stated that segregation of school children based on race was no longer allowed. This decision sparked racial and ethnically motivated violence, with bombings taking place across the South in response. Segregation advocates began making their bombs, and attacks, which were taking place as frequently as twice a week. Ten percent of these attacks were aimed at Jews, consisting of synagogues and the homes of community rabbis. A year before the attack on The Temple, synagogues and Jewish community centers were attacked in Charlotte, Miami, Jacksonville, and Birmingham.10
Antisemitism increased in the South during the tensions over new desegregation policies. Flyers and letters were handed out to local wholesalers and were passed around during public demonstrations. The previous suspects who were indicted and charged with the bombing were seen participating in these demonstrations. On July 27, 1958, the National Committee to Free America from Jewish Domination, (NCFAJD,) picketed in Atlanta, spreading harsh antisemitic rhetoric, waving signs that read, ‘Save Ike from the Kikes,”. 11 Such a shame that petty racial prejudices lead to the destruction of a beloved house of worship. Luckily, The Temple remains standing today, a reminder that mindless hate will never win.
- Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Atlanta, Fulton County, Georgia. Sanborn Map Company, Vol. 4, 1911. Map. https://digitalsanbornmaps-proquest-com.eu1.proxy.openathens.net/browse_maps/11/1377/6154/6520/97571?accountid=11226 ↩︎
- Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Atlanta, Fulton County, Georgia. Sanborn Map Company Vol. 6, 1925-Oct.1950. https://digitalsanbornmaps-proquest-com.eu1.proxy.openathens.net/browse_maps/11/1377/6156/6534/98765?accountid=11226 ↩︎
- Melissa Fay Greene, The Temple Bombing (2006), 24 ↩︎
- The Temple Bombing (2006), 33 ↩︎
- Blumberg, Janice Rothschild. “The Bomb That Healed: A Personal Memoir of the Bombing of The Temple in Atlanta, 1958.” American Jewish History 73, no. 1 (1983): 20–38. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23882575. ↩︎
- Minister Thos. B. Thraikill to Rabbi David Rothchild and Congregation, October 12, 1958 ↩︎
- Conrad Browne to Rabbi Jacob M. Rothschild, October 13, 1958 ↩︎
- 5 indicted in bombing of temple;: Missing 5th suspect is seized grand juror is threatened. (1958, Oct 18). The Atlanta Constitution (1946-1984) Retrieved from https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/5-indicted-bombing-temple/docview/1612028351/se-2 ↩︎
- Martin, H. (1958, Oct 19). Bombing of temple hurt atlanta’s pride. The Atlanta Journal and the Atlanta Constitution (1950-1968) Retrieved from https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/bombing-temple-hurt-atlantas-pride/docview/1632634907/se-2 ↩︎
- The Temple Bombing (2006), 6 ↩︎
- Kellman, George. “ANTI-JEWISH AGITATION.” The American Jewish Year Book 60 (1959): 44–52. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23602919. ↩︎
