Charles' Story

I was born in Scranton, PA on June 17, 1950. My father, who was Jewish, was a coal miner and died from TB on April 1st of 1950. I never knew him.

At that time, I was the 6th child and my mother couldn't take care of us so she placed us into an orphanage. We were all tested for TB and I was ‘positive’ for juvenile TB. I was sent to a sanitarium outside Philadelphia until I was 14 months old. I was then returned to the orphanage. My first memory was that of going into a foster home when I was about 3. My foster parents couldn’t have children but were exceptionally good to me and eventually wanted to adopt me. They'd take me to Hebrew school on Saturdays (honoring my father) and to Christian Sunday school because my mom wasn't Jewish.

When I was 4 1/2 my appendix burst and even though I was rushed to the hospital, I died on the operating table because they couldn’t find my mother to authorize the procedure. They finally found her in a bar and had to sober her up before getting permission to operate. In either event, I guess the poison had worked its way into my system and I had a brief but full “out-of-body" experience (I’ll write more about that later). That started my spiritual quest for G-d.

When I was 8, my foster mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer, so the CPS and orphanage relocated me to live with this person who said she was my mother. I lived with her, her new husband, and by this time nine children (10 including me), all claiming to be my brothers and sisters. I say that because I hadn't ever met my mom or any of my brothers or sisters before. Life there was very difficult for me. From the time I went back to live with my family, my mom would always say “I wish you would have died instead of your father”.

I could no longer handle the physical and mental abuse so I emancipated myself at 17 and lived in the YMCA in downtown Scranton. It was near my high school and I worked every day after school and on Saturdays cutting grass, filling people’s furnace stokers with coal, shoveling snow, etc. to support myself.

In September 1968 I met a Pentecostal girl at a football game. She later became my wife. I graduated from a vocational high school in June 1968 and got a job right after graduation.

A year later, after joining the Union, the company went on strike. At that time, the only option was to either enter the military under my decision or the governments’. So, into the USAF (I retired after 23 years) I went in August 1969. While in the military, my life changed drastically and I accepted Yeshua as my Messiah.

In 1977 I became an Assemblies of God minister; but something was missing. I could not reconcile the Trinity dogma and the anti-Semitism that was pretty bad everywhere I went. I left the ministry and began my personal search for Yeshua and I quickly became a Jewish/Christian teacher.

In 1987 my wife was diagnosed with chronic progressive Multiple Sclerosis (MS) and this sealed the deal; I would dedicate my life to Abba’s work with the caregiving of my wife as my main purpose.

A few years ago, I was asked to create a Messianic Jewish Bible study here in Sacramento, California. The entire group consists of gentile believers who wanted to know the scriptures from a Jewish point of view. It has evolved into a quasi-synagogue where we have bi-weekly classes and every Holy holiday we go through each one just as if Yeshua was in our presence. I have also co-conducted Holy Day ceremonies for the past 20 plus years with other Messianic organizations and congregations. Just last year we purchased a Torah Scroll and had an Ark build by a Jewish Russian cabinetmaker.

Nobody here, however, actually speaks or writes fluent Hebrew. Therefore, I decided to learn Hebrew and in turn teach (or encourage others in) Hebrew to our small congregation. I'm the only person in our little community who has any Jewish background. I'll be 70 this June 17th and decided I have waited long enough to take full advantage of reading and writing Hebrew.

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