Shofar, so good
By Joel Beck
Friday, August 20, 2004

The 4th annual Great Shofar Blowout certainly opened plenty of eyes, including those of Amy Waren, who helped set a Guinness World Record for shofar blowing in Swampscott this week.

Ever wonder what the world's largest shofar horn blast sounds like? That's exactly what 500 people in Swampscott set out to discover this week - hopefully making history in the process.

Who would have ever guessed that the most challenging aspect of the North Shore's "Great Shofar Blowout" had nothing to with trying to set a Guinness World Record? As it turns out, getting into the record books is pretty darn easy.

That became abundantly clear the moment more than 500 shofar blowers - by far exceeding the 100 required by Guinness for inclusion in its famous book of world records - descended onto King's Beach in Swampscott on Tuesday evening. Before then, needless to say, no one had ever attempted to draw a record-breaking, shofar-blowing crowd.

(Lost yet with all this shofar talk? For those of you who are not Jewish or aren't up to speed on old biblical traditions, a shofar is an ancient instrument made from a ram's horn and is still used in many modern Jewish ceremonies and rituals.)

But considering Tuesday's impressive turnout in Swampscott, event organizer Debbie Coltin quickly learned that her biggest challenge was not going to be convincing anyone that the Great Shofar Blowout was truly Guinness-worthy. Instead, the hardest part for Coltin was simply trying to shout instructions over the wailing and piercing moans created by hundreds of amateur shofar blowers.

"Just make your sound and stop," Coltin chuckled at one point, with the megaphone in her hand proving to be all but useless. "Otherwise we'll be here until Rosh Hashanah."

Such was the chaotic scene at the Jewish Federation of the North Shore's 4th annual Great Shofar Blowout, which has undoubtedly become one of the more popular and, let's face it, peculiar events to make its way to the region in recent years. After all, how could one possibly explain the event to the many puzzled passersby who happened to get caught in the crossfire as hundreds of shofar-armed pedestrians managed to bring traffic in Swampscott to a grinding halt for several minutes?

Oh, they're just going to blow their shofars. Should be done in a few minutes.

Of course they are. Makes perfect sense.

Nevertheless, the shofar extravaganza was deemed an enormous success by all those in attendance. For starters, organizers of the event were ecstatic because it marked a truly unique beginning to the Hebrew month of Elul, the time when Jews traditionally begin sounding the shofar in the days leading up to the Jewish new year of Rosh Hashanah.

"We start blowing it daily in spiritual preparation for the holidays," explains Coltin, the continuity committee director for the Jewish Federation of the North Shore.

"Jewish pride plays such a big part in this," she adds. "(The shofar) has survived thousands of years and has been around just as long as the Jewish people have survived. There must be a reason for that. It's kind of like a metaphor for the Jewish people themselves. To think that we're still doing this today, thousands of years later, is quite unbelievable."

Perhaps. But maybe not quite as unbelievable as the fact that once all the appropriate paperwork is officially submitted, Tuesday's shofar affair will be officially documented in the Guinness Book of World Records. Despite the not-so-surprising fact that there had been no previous world record for most shofars blown at once, Coltin says that they were inspired after learning about a Indiana University student who set a record for most dreidels spun at once.

With that, the next logical step was to gather up as many shofars as humanly possible and bring in official "authenticators" make sure the new world record is indeed legitimate.

"I've never authenticated a Guinness world record event before, but I have authenticated a number of pints of Guinness," grinned Swampscott Rabbi Neal Loevinger, who joined the likes of Swampscott selectman Dan Santanello, Marblehead state Rep. Doug Petersen and U.S. Rep John Tierney as the designated judges for the event.

While the prospect of a record-setting evening may have served as motivation for many to bring their shofars to the shores of Swampscott on Tuesday, others clearly reveled in the camaraderie they experienced by joining with their neighbors in an act of religious solidarity.

For others, blowing horns on the beach just seemed like a pretty cool way to spend a Tuesday night.

"I was just curious," says James Young, a Lynn native and avid shofar collector. "I just wanted to hear what 500 shofars all blown at once really sounded like." Well, don't we all?

Style points  Not many people realized it at the time, but there was another world record in danger of being broken at Swampscott's Great Shofar Blowout.

It's doubtful that the folks at Guinness keep track of things like "most number of blood vessels burst while trying to force breath through a small wind instrument." But considering the number of vein-popping, blue-faced people who were walking around King's Beach with shofars pressed to their lips, maybe it's time Guinness thought about accepting some new entries.

Leave it to Rabbi Loevinger, however, to help ease the pain of the many shofar neophytes who made their way to King's Beach. After watching two young boys struggle to get any kind of acoustically pleasing sound out of their shofars - more acoustically pleasing, that is, than the already shrill squawking noise the instrument is designed to make - Loevinger immediately wowed them by showing them his patented technique.

"You just have to relax," Loevinger explained to the youths. "If your lips are stiff, it won't do you any good. You have to blow from your stomach, not from your chest."

Certainly, you can't argue with Loevinger's results - this coming from the man who, at least unofficially, appeared to be the only person at the event who could blow two shofars at once - but it's interesting to note how his style seemingly contradicts with some of the other shofar experts in attendance.

For instance, Beverly native Ira Lerman, a trombone player, explains that the embouchure he uses for his shofar is actually very similar to that of a trombone. The main difference being that trombone-playing requires a lot of movement in the jaw, whereas getting the right shofar sound mostly comes from the lips.

Sound advice, to be sure. In many ways, it mirrors the advice offered by Swampscott resident Stan Black, an admitted shofar novice, albeit in much simpler terms.

"You just put your lips together and blow," says Black.

Sounds easy enough. But after surveying the diverse styles with which people approached their shofar-playing on Tuesday, it's clear that there is no right way or wrong way to blow.

Just before the group made its quasi-historic pilgrimage to King's Beach, many of the people roamed on the grass near Swampscott's Monument Square, practicing their shofars and filling the air with sounds that can really only be heard to fully digest.

"It will be very loud and noisy," was the correct prediction offered a few days before the event by Amy Sessler, a spokesperson for the Jewish Continuity Committee at the JFNS. "At some of our training sessions, you would have thought that a bunch of whales got beached or something."

Sounds about right.

Having a blast

In New England, the excited tension that would accompany the Red Sox reaching the verge of securing a World Series championship is a virtually foreign sensation. It can only be assumed that the clearly palpable excitement that hung in the air in the minutes leading up to the record-setting shofar blow is the closest comparison to what that glorious day will be like.

Alright, maybe not that close. But there wasn't anyone at King's Beach on Tuesday who wasn't having a blast, literally or figuratively.

For the past several weeks Ted Reed and Susan Bell from the Beverly-based film production company Counterproductions have been working on a short documentary about the Great Shofar Blowout. They, even after spending countless hours talking to people about the shofar and attending numerous shofar training sessions, were as curious as anyone to catch a glimpse of the event's climactic moment.

"We have no idea what it's going to sound like," says Bell with a smile and a shrug.

For his part, Lerman - the trombone player from Beverly - bordered on near giddiness as the big moment approached.

"As a kid, I was brought up very religious and I was always led to believe that only a chosen group could blow the shofar," says Lerman. "But as I got older I realized that anybody can blow. That's why I came out here tonight. I wanted to give something back to the community. You don't have to be Jewish to do this. That's the beauty of it. Something like this is totally free of political and financial motivation. You're here because you want to be here."

Meanwhile, people like Ron Budd of Chelmsford woke up on Tuesday morning having no idea that in just a few short hours they would take part in an event that would land them in the Guinness Book of World Record. Budd heard about the Great Shofar Blowout on the radio on Tuesday morning and decided to drive to Swampscott to take part in it.

His rationale for doing so, like the one gentleman who came all the way from Englewood, N.J. to participate, was quite simple.

"I thought it would be fun to be a part of history," says Budd.

In the end, more than 500 people stood on King's Beach and blew their shofars for just about five minutes, thus making history indeed. Motorists drove slowly by the beach, mostly likely a little confused about all the commotion, but quite possibly swept up in the pure emotion of the moment.

At first blush, an event where hundreds of people do little more than blow hot air through a small hole in the business end of a ram's horn doesn't exactly seem like reason to celebrate. But the smiles on everyone's faces told the whole story - and perhaps proved that something more was done than just setting records.

"It's definitely more significant than just the Guinness record," says Brenda Millet of Lynn. "It's about people and spirituality. I don't know of these people even realize the impact and the depth of what they're doing."

E-mail reporter Joel Beck at jbeck@cnc.com