I’m Noah Schoen, and I’m Aliza Becker and this is October 27th, a podcast about the October 27th, 2018 synagogue shooting in Pittsburgh. Aliza and I co-founded an oral history project that recorded over 100 interviews with local Jews and non-Jews about their life stories and reflections on the shooting. Our interviewees taught us so much and we’ve created this podcast to share their insights with you. This is October 27th. 

In 2019, I attended a conference that responded to the shooting by bringing Pittsburghers together to learn how to educate against hate. It was there that I met Dr. Joe Harmon, who teaches a Holocaust elective at Redbank Valley High School AN HOUR north of the city. When I asked Dr. Harmon if I should speak with any of his students for our oral history project, he told me, without hesitation, “You should interview Clara Gourley.” 

Clara was still in high school when I met her, but she has a poise well beyond her years. From a young age, she developed an innate sense of justice that compelled her to speak out. In this interview we hear her perspective on what it means to be an ally to others, and how learning about the Holocaust has affected her. Through Clara, we also get a picture of the close-knit rural community she calls home. 

Gourley: My name is Clara Gourley. So, I live in a very small town about an hour and a half out of Pittsburgh. There are maybe two thousand people in New Bethlehem. And I live out in the countryside. I mean, I can almost see my nearest neighbor—almost. I've grown up in the same house ever since I was born. And my town is very small, and a little below the poverty line, I guess you could say. 

The one thing that my town does very well is festivals. And we have a peanut butter factory in our town. So every year, we have the Peanut Butter Festival. And we have a run, and the company will come down and sell like fifty different kinds of peanut butter. You’d  be surprised by how much you can pair with peanut butter. 

Schoen: It seems like you like your town. 

Gourley: I do. It has its ups and downs, but I chose to look at the positives of it, than examine the negatives and dwell on them.

It's taught me a lot about who I am, and it’s influenced my views a lot. And, I mean, some people may look at small towns with disdain and think of how awkward and backward and redneck they are. And yes, we're small. We are maybe a little bit backward, and we're definitely redneck, but they care about the people there, and they're truly willing to do whatever if you need it. 

One of my best friends, when she was in about I would think third grade, her house burned down and her family lost everything. And they're already considered below the poverty line, and it was very difficult for them to regain everything they’d lost. So the town, they jumped in. My class, we donated toys, clothing, and—it doesn't replace what they lost, but they were able to cope with the loss of their house better. 

When I have family members who are sick, everyone in the town is always asking me, like “Oh, how are they doing, you know?” And they like to offer their medical advice, of course, on whatever they think could help them. And they like to bring a lot of food. The food is something they do very well. 

My town is very much your traditional Christian white conservative town. 

Schoen: Is Christianity or faith a part of your life? 

Gourley: One hundred percent. Everyone has their own thing, but Christianity I guess you could say is mine.

I love the ideals, the values behind it. And I've taken those and tried to apply them to the way that I live and to my own life.

And I might not agree with everything all the time, or I might not understand it. But I just have to trust and know that something bigger than me is going on. 

And I believe that God does have a plan for me in my life. I don't exactly know what it is yet, but I just have to trust that everything I'm doing is planned by Him, at least. 

It just seems with everything that's going on, with all of the problems and woes in the world, it's just too much for us to handle alone. So, when we're putting our trust in something bigger than us, it's essentially taking something off of our chests and knowing that we don't have to do this alone. 

So if I trust that He's powerful, and that He can handle everything, then I know that I may fail sometimes, but, I always have Him to help me get back on up. 

My church is 175 years old. Woo! I think it's one of the oldest in our area. I've grown up in that congregation. It's a second family to me. I've spent countless hours at church. I know like every single crook and cranny of it.

And it's not perfect, because nothing ever is. But it’s family, and it's a home. And whatever my family goes through, we have just this huge support system full of people who are willing to help us with whatever we're going through and to help us get through life. 

My town is not very accepting of those that would be considered different, whether it goes to the color of their skin, to their religion, or to their gender identity. And that's one thing that I've always had to struggle with. 

My family would be considered more diverse than many of the other families there. My uncle, he married a half Black woman. And I have five cousins, and they’re all quarter Black. And then my great uncle married an Asian woman and so all their children are half Asian. 

And one day I was in school and someone they pulled their eyes back at the corners and made a comment about being a chink and being Asian. And I was like, “You can't make that kind of comment. That's rude. That's mean.” And what I considered unacceptable, they considered just fine to do. And that's when I started noticing the differences between my views and the majority of theirs, really, at least in the second grade class. 

The thing is they really didn't have any cruel intentions towards people who are Asian.They didn't have any hatred behind that. It was just ignorance and everyone else was doing it. And I mean, there wasn't really anyone there to speak up and say, “Hey, don't do that,” besides me. 

And honestly, I've learned to pick and choose my battles, because sometimes I'm ridiculed because of it or given a weird look, or they just completely and utterly ignore me. They may not care, but they just know not to say it around me. 

One of my best friends, she grew up in a much more inclusive, diverse area than my town. She's really inspired me to keep on speaking up and saying something, because she doesn't care what you have to say about her. She just knows that what you're saying is wrong, and she's not going to take that. 

Schoen: Is there anybody else who’s encouraged you? 

Gourley: My parents, definitely. I've talked to them before about how people making racist comments— it hurts me because sometimes I'm scared to speak up.  And my mother will always say, "Clara Joy, you need to speak up.” 

I have a teacher, and her motto for everything is just like travel outside of your comfort zone and that little bubble you have because you learn so much more out there. And I've kind of taken that and applied it to my life. 

I've gone to places, I've met some people different than me who have different beliefs, skin colors, different identities than me. And it’s like when you hear of something on the news, it’s different than actually going there and seeing it and meeting the people who have had to deal with it. And their burden or their pain, their struggle, in a way it becomes part of mine, because I sympathize and I empathize with them. So, I try to speak out about it. 
My town, it has its ups and downs. But you can't let the most negative perspectives of it let it influence your view on the people there who live there, because they're wonderful people. 

Schoen: Are there any Jews that live in New Bethlehem? 

Gourley: As far as I know, none. I mean, I think the nearest synagogue is like an hour or so away from my town. Yah, it's mainly just a lot of churches. 

Schoen: How did you first hear about Jews?

Gourley: It would have to be I would think in church, actually, when we were reading the Bible and they would be mentioning Jews, and I'd be asking my Sunday school teacher, like, "Miss Arlene, who are the Jews?" And then she had to explain it to me. And even then it wasn't very in-depth.

I first got my glimpse into the Jewish life last year with Dr. Harmon's Holocaust class when we were exploring who the Jewish people were, what they had went through before the Holocaust happened, how they had been around for thousands of years, and they were like one of the oldest groups of people. And about some of their holidays, aspects of their religion, the propaganda used to turn people I guess to fear them. And I guess getting to know them as a people and then him just telling us of everything that happened. It was just something that you just can't forget.

And it just really affected me on how people might make these jokes about the Holocaust. And now, after that class, I just—I can't, I can’t take that. 

One day I saw a kid drawing a swastika on his Chromebook, and I looked at him, and I go, "Do you have any idea what that means?". And then I sat there and I talked to him. And I was like, "That is a symbol of hatred, and something that is incredibly just horrific, and you decide to draw that on your Chromebook?" He erased it. 

Or if kids on my bus will make jokes about it. I’m like, “Is the deaths of six million innocent people funny to you?” And they always just kind of shut up after that. 

I mean I don't think they say those things, and they’re not intending to be completely and utterly rude. I don’t believe that the majority of them are being like, “Oh, those Jews are going to try and take over the world.” I just think that they've heard the same thing before. They’ve heard it from other people. They deduce, it’s okay. And if something's okay, then you can say it. 

Most people they don't know the true horror that the Jews suffered. I doubt many of them have ever met a Jewish person, let alone talked to them about something so horrific.
Words have a bigger impact than we give them credit for. It's my philosophy that you have to be very careful with what you say at least, lest it's taken a different way than what you intended it for. 

You can absolutely tear someone apart with your words. And how you choose to use them really kind of shows what kind of person you are. In my opinion, at least. 

And the one thing I do kind of blame for the climate that these words have created, and how kind of unsteady it is—I absolutely do blame, at least partly, the politicians and how they choose to use their words. If you have to belittle someone to prove your point, then your point, at least to me, isn't worth hearing. 

You should be able to prove your point through your actions and how you speak of other people. 

Schoen: What do you think would help some people in your town be more aware of some of these differences and potentially be more sensitive? 

Gourley: One of my true thoughts is that if you had more knowledge and more education, that, and a perfect world, that it would solve everything. And I truly think that having more diversity in my town would help, too. Because if you look at someone's history, you can see why they do the stuff they do or what's shaped them, what they've gone through, and it really helps you relate to a person. 

I'm thinking if we really went and we educated people more about that, they would be I guess a lot more open and a lot less intolerant. 

But, it has to be handled a certain way, because you can't go to a group of eleventh graders whose class is like ninety-nine percent white and say, “No, you guys haven't gone through anything at all because of your skin color.” Because some of these kids have gone through absolute, just hell. And you can't look at them and blame them, I guess. 
It has to be handled delicately, if you don't want them to close themselves off.

Schoen: I want to pivot now to the events of October 27th. Can you tell me about what you remember on that day? 

Gourley: I remember I was sitting at my kitchen table reading USA Today, because I did that every single day without fail. And I refreshed the screen, and I saw there was like a shooting at a synagogue. And I'm like, ‘Oh my goodness, what happened?’ And so I click on it, and I'm like, Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh. And I’m like, “Wait, I know that area.” And I'm like, “Oh, my goodness.”

I had a friend who was in Pittsburgh that day, and I remember thinking, “Oh, is she okay? What's going on?” And I just remember sitting back in my chair and thinking, “How?” 
I mean you hear of these things happening in other places: Paris, Orlando, Nevada, California. But to have something happen that you've driven past before, that you know the area, that you've loved the city. It impacts you differently. It hits you a little closer to home. And I just remember being truly horrified, and just sitting there stunned and astonished. 
As the days went on, and I kept on reading articles about that, I looked at the list of victims. I'm like, “They've done nothing wrong. They were mostly elderly people who have lived their whole entire lives. And they just went to the synagogue that morning.” 

And I just, it's hard to find the right words to express how I felt.

I think it was the Sunday after. We were taking prayers and praise requests. And the one man raised his hand and he said, "Let's pray for the Tree of Life shooting. Let's pray for the synagogue." And so we were just praying for the people, for the community there, for the people who had went through it, and the victims. 

During my Holocaust class, we brought up the Tree of Life shooting and how antisemitism it’s not extinct. It hasn’t disappeared at all. And it’s still very much in the United States and in the world.

It’s changed my view of things that can happen, these acts of senseless violence. It's made everything seem a lot more possible and real, like it could happen. And if it can happen in Pittsburgh, it could happen pretty much anywhere. And there always seems to be a thought in the way back of my mind that I could go to school and something could happen. 

Schoen: Is there anything that we haven't touched on that you'd like to add something about? 

Gourley: The one thing I do remember reading was an article about after the perpetrator—he was somehow injured, and the doctor and the nurse who worked on him. And I remember reading how they were Jewish, and I just remember being completely and utterly amazed by that and how he completely changed the lives of the community and how they were still able to find the grace and forgiveness to work on him and make him better. I don't think I could have done that. It's given me a lot of respect for them to still work on him. It’s something that deeply impacted me.

And seeing how everyone responded after it. Going through Pittsburgh and seeing like on every single door, the Stronger than Hate. I was walking down the hall the other day, and I saw a girl with the Stronger than Hate shirt on, and I was thinking, “Wow, it's still amazing to see how even after something so terrible changes that will change the city forever, people they respond by coming together.”

And that’s the one thing I've always loved is seeing how people come together to support each other. And in times of hostility, differences are put aside, and everyone, they see this, and they take it as a sign of, “What can I do to help?” It's no longer, “Oh, you're different than me, you have different political views. Oh, you're a Democrat, oh, you're a Republican.” It's no longer that. It's more of, “What can I do for you? What do you need? I'm so sorry that this happened. How can I support you?” And it’s always warmed my heart to see that. 

Schoen: Why do you think that response is so important? 

Even if it is just for a short amount of time, it helps people heal. When you have someone who you usually fight with or who you would consider an enemy come up to you and say, “I'm so sorry this happened,” it comforts you. It shows how there is hope for everything going on and how we don't have to lose faith in humanity and force everyone who's different away from us. It shows how we can put aside everything that we think is right and still help those who are going through a rough patch or have gone through this terrible event. 

Schoen: Lastly, I just wanted to ask you, is there anything else that you'd like to say to someone who might be listening? 

Gourley: Whenever you do anything, think of the implications it's going to have on those after you and those that you're with now. Because you don't know how much it's going to impact your world and the world around you.

And try to learn, I guess, as much as you can. You might not necessarily agree with someone, and you don't have to. You don't have to be best buddy friends with everyone. But you do have to respect their ideas, even if you think that it's stupid or foolish. Just be open to new things. And if someone has these different ideas, don't shut them down completely. 

October 27th is written and hosted by Aliza Becker and Noah Schoen, and it’s produced and edited by Carly Rubin. We get administrative support from Tina Stanton Gonzalez of the Hannah Arendt Center at Bard College. Our music is from Blue Dot Sessions and our closing theme is Tree of Life by Nefesh Mountain. If you want to support our work and the creation of more episodes like this one, you can make a donation at October27podcast.org where you’ll also find episode transcripts, a link to this full unedited interview, and more. That’s October27podcast.org. And lastly, thank you to all of the amazing Pittsburghers who shared their stories for the Meanings of October 27th Oral History Project. We’re so grateful for your trust and your generosity.