When I publish a blog in the Times of Israel, I often wonder (and I assume all bloggers do) “Will it be well received?” How many “likes” or comments will it get? Will any reader bother to give me or my story any accolades?

Well, lo and behold, my story entitled, “The Anne Frank Neighbor Conundrum” hit new heights. Here are two comments, (one as a poem with the help of ChatGPT) my readers published:

Good morning, Mort! I just read your Anne Frank Neighbor Story–excellent as usual! I wish I could say I wrote a poem about you, but it was with the help of AI. I want to post it in the comments, but I wanted to get your approval first. I keyed a few words and I think it captured the essence of how I see you. What it left out was that I envy you because we were raised in the South to keep our opinions to ourselves so as not to offend anyone. We can’t say “No!” and my mom always said, “If you can’t say something nice about someone, don’t say anything!” You are my “Hero!” and the the poem is attached.—Jim

Mort Laitner

Mort is my friend; he is my hero. He speaks his mind; he tells it like it is. He does not fear to offend or to err. He has the b**** of a bull; he is fearless.

Mort stands for what is right; he does not bend. He challenges the wrong; he exposes the lies He is a warrior of light; he is our defender. He has the heart of a lion; he is wise.

Mort inspires me to be myself; he is my role model. He shows me how to live with courage and truth. He is a friend indeed; he is my soul mate. He has the soul of a poet; he is my muse.

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If you are based in Florida, perhaps you can become an advisor for Governor Ron DeSantis. You are intelligent, qualified, and articulate. This is a meaningful article.—Sam

Well, Jim and Sam, I’m flabbergasted by your praise; I thank both of you (and ChatGPT) with all of my heart.

The Anne Frank Neighbor Conundrum

Around the time of my bar mitzvah, my parents bought me and recommended I read The Diary of Anne Frank.

I read it in one sitting and cried. As Anne and her family hid in that Amsterdam attic, I sat beside them picturing Nazis on the streets below searching for and rounding up Jews.  And as I read, I wondered,  “If the Nazis had conquered America would any of my Catskill Mountain, Christian neighbors hide me, feed me or risk their lives to save me? Would I do it for them if the shoe was on the other foot? Or would any of them turn me over to the Nazis?

After asking a few of my Jewish neighbors about what I had named the Anne Frank Neighbor Conundrum, I soon learned that American Jews hated those questions. They enjoyed living in the land of denial. They refused to even consider them. Their faces contorted, when I placed this inedible conundrum on their plates. They said, “Don’t worry boychick, that will never happen in America. The Nazis are history. The good guys won. It can’t happen here and if it did, we’ll be able to escape to Israel.”

But I neglected to listen.

I started grading and studying my Christian neighbors for any tell-tale signs of  humanity, compassion or bravery.

Sixty years later, during the Trumpian era, I played the Anne Frank Neighbor Conundrum game but now it’s with my Florida neighbors.

So when I looked out of my Florida room window, I studied one of my Christian neighbors. He manicured his lawn, spending at least one hour a day, cutting, trimming and fertilizing. He loved cutting, clipping and sniping his hedges. His grass looked as immaculate as the lawn surrounding the Wannsee Estate.

You’ve guessed it, he’s a right-wing Republican nut, who dislikes Democrats, loves watching Fox News and votes for Donald Trump.

I watched as he hung the red, white and blue on his yard’s flagpole. He’s a proud American who doesn’t give a shit about America or liberty or freedom or justice.

Next to that flagpole, we used to discuss politics, until I got fed up with his stupidity and asked him:

Who do you think lit the fuse on anti-Semitism in America?

Who invites neo-Nazis and anti-Semites to his home to break bread?

Who uses anti-Semitic memes and tropes in their campaign literature?

Who praises Neo-Nazis torch carriers?

Today, I studied his green lawn and wondered:

Would my neighbor throw books written by Jews into a bonfire? Yup, I think so.

Would he paint signs on the park benches reading: No Jews Allowed To Sit On This Bench? Yup, I think so.

Would he drop canisters filled with Zyklon B pellets into the gas chambers? Most likely not.

“Would he lift a finger or voice a concern to save my life as I was being dragged out of my home?” I doubt it.

My neighbor failed the Anne Frank Neighbor Conundrum test.

And if you have a Trumper living in your neighborhood, I suggest you write in your diary: