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5:12 p.m. Mahadav Makes The Ma’ariv Minyan
by Uma Ramiah, Michelle Turner, Allan Appel, & Melissa Bailey | Jan 24, 2012 7:28 pm
Commenting has been closed | E-mail the Author
Posted to: 24 Hours
At Young Israel Synagogue, nine men were waiting to say the afternoon and evening prayers. Assaf Mahadav made it just in time.
At 4:47 p.m. he entered the doors to the synagogue’s cozy rectangular book-lined space in a small shopping center off Whalley Avenue. That gave the congregation enough adults to be able to do a full mincha daily afternoon service, including an out-loud recitation of the amidah prayer and mourner’s kaddish.
Mahadav (pictured above with Young Israel Rabbi Chagie Rubin), a 40-year-old biologist from Rehovot, Israel, who’s doing a post-doc at Yale, rushed over, as usual, to help the small congregation get a minyan. He does that every morning and late afternoon. Young Israel is one of three Orthodox congregations within three blocks of each other at the crossroads of Beaver Hills, Edgewood and Whalley that work hard to get a minyan together twice each day.
“My work at Yale is very expensive. I just leave it. It will wait,” Mahadav said. But Jewish daily prayer times, like Muslim daily prayer times, won’t wait. “This place needs me,” Mahadav said.
And he needs to prayer, as evidenced by the intensity with which he recited mincha.
Like Mansour Salih, the Sudanese cabbie whose afternoon prayer we wrote about earlier today (read about that here), Mahadav had a favorite personal addition to the prescribed prayers Tuesday. He recited Psalm 63. He said the psalm expresses why he drops his work to make the minyan, he said.
My soul thirsts for you
My flesh longs for you
In a dry and thirsty land where there is no water.
“I read it,” Mahadav said afterwards, “and I disappear.”
He was saying that a little after 5:10, in between the end of mincha and the start of the evening ma’ariv service. Before stepping outside he checked the room to make sure 10 adults were inside. There were; a couple more had wandered in after Mahadav. So it was safe to speak. The minyan would go on.
A.A.
5:07 p.m.—Longhini Wraps It Up
Roman Gonzalez hosed down the chicken grinder as workers wrapped up the day at a third-generation New Haven sausage plant.
Longhini Sausage Company has been in New Haven for 60 years. It moved to its current spot off Ella Grasso Boulevard, on (ready for it?) “Longhini Lane,” after urban renewal.
Workers started their day at 7. They run meat through a grinder, mixer, stuffer, and finally a wrapper that slaps labels on the meat, so it can be sold to major supermarkets like Stop & Shop and Big Y.
When a day’s worth of meat was done, plant supervisor Mike Baldo (pictured) lay drill parts on the “stuffer” machine—to dry for the next day.
M.B.
4:45 Traniesha Shaves 28 Seconds
In a field house full of high school track runners, Traniesha West felt the thrill of victory—only to see it snatched away.
West’s squad was one of 16 from tech schools around the state that converged at Hillhouse’s field house Tuesday afternoon for a track competition. It was their last chance to qualify for the state championships.
This is the first year that West (at right in photo), a junior from Classical Magnet in Hartford, has been on the team. She’s been working hard. That work paid off on Tuesday afternoon, when she ran the 200-yard relay in 48 seconds. That was 28 seconds faster than last time.
And her four-person relay team clocked in at 1:49, enough to win their round.
West was pumped afterwards. For a moment.
“Yeah, that was probably the best time of the year,” coach Hildie Heck (at left in photo) told West. “But we were disqualified.”
“For real?” West asked. “What happened?”
“One of the runners” on the team—Heck wouldn’t say which one—“tipped the cone.” That disqualified the team.
Heck then gave West the news about her own time. That, at least, softened the news.
M.T.

4:40 p.m.—The Gold Building Earns Its Title
As sun set on Tuesday, 234 Church St.‘s window panels glowed in the sinking sunlight.
Yep. That’s why people call it the Gold Building.
Denise Jones and her son CJ—CJ is short for Clifford—walked toward the 64,000 square foot office building that houses Jones’s bank—Chase—and her lawyer’s office.
“Yeah, this is the Gold Building,” Jones said, clutching a cup of Dunkin Donuts tea. “I think it’s pretty.”
U.R.
3:36 p.m.—Outside Shelter, Talk Turns To Re-Entry
Groups of men were hanging around outside Immanuel Baptist Homelessness shelter on Grand Avenue—hoping for a spot to stay for the night. Os and Chino leaned up against the brick wall, Chino listening to Reggaeton on his iPod.
Eddy (at right in photo, with Oz at left and Chino at center) walked up to join them. The conversation turned to jobs. Os works weekends at the flea market on Ella Grasso Boulevard, saving up money, while the other two are still looking for work.
“The background’s killing everyone,” Eddy said. All three have a record—Eddy was released from prison a few months ago. They talk about how hard it is to find a company, or a person, that’ll hire them.
“They look up your record, and you know there’s no chance,” Oz said. “They don’t want to give us a chance.”
Chino, from New York originally, wears a Yankees hoodie and horn rimmed glasses.
“You know what I’m going to do, I’m going to start my own company. I know janitorial work. I’ll start my own place and hire a few Mexicans.”
Oz and Eddy laugh, pounding him on the back. Oz hands him a penny.
“Here you go man, take this. Just wait til INS shows up at your door.”
U.R.
Related stories from today’s 24-hour coverage:
• The Graveyard Shift
• Daybreak
• The Grind
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