My 1965 summer in Israel was one of my most special. After a flight from Ankara to Tel Aviv, I hitched hiked to Tiberias and then up the road to Kibbutz Ginosar. It was Sabbath eve and they never turned anyone away on the Sabbath. I got up the next morning and asked when I could go to work. Ginosar was a secular kibbutz and they welcomed my request with immediate placement in the banana fields. A week later, I volunteered to help on a fishing boat purse netting sardines and Mushte (also called “St. Peter’s Fish”), and for the next six weeks, I was a fisherman on the Kinneret, the Sea of Galilee.
When Martha and I traveled to Israel several years ago, we visited Ginosar. The banana fields were greenhouses; the fishing dock was there, but no longer used, and the kibbutz had a new hotel. None of that mattered. My memories still burned brightly.