From tears to laughter—Torah springs from tragedy

Only after the final notes of "Etz Chayim" had been sung, only after the Torah had been placed inside the Holy Ark and only after her family was wrapped in a tight embrace by Rabbi Alan Lew, did 10-year-old Sophie Gunther reveal any emotion.

And then the gap-toothed kid with the endless brown bangs and the smile that could light up a hundred menorahs joined the rest of Congregation Beth Sholom in celebrating the memory of her sister and the Torah created in her honor.

She cried.

But the tears were a long time coming. And they were in short supply at the San Francisco synagogue on Thursday of last week. What remained was laughter, remembrance and a quiet determination to continue.

The service was held on what would have been the two-year anniversary of Eva Gunther's bat mitzvah. The 12-year old was struck and killed by a car on Aug. 5, 1997 while participating in the Junior Olympics in Charlotte, N.C.

"The night Eva died, she reached inside my chest and slapped my heart," Eva's father, Mark Gunther, told those gathered. "That's the only time I've felt her since she's been gone."

Gunther paused and collected his thoughts. "But tonight's service is an act of life. It's a small step, one of many our family will have to take as we begin to create new lives without Eva."

Gunther was followed to the podium by Lew, who told the congregation it was witnessing a historic event. He told congregants they now possessed a new Torah, paid for by the Gunthers, created especially for Beth Sholom.

"We have a new Torah for the first time in our history," Lew said. "Nothing expresses the continuity of life more than the Torah. And nothing could be more appropriate for keeping the spirit of Eva Gunther alive.

"This is a sacred moment we've arrived at."

The congregants had arrived for that special moment in a boisterous procession down Clement Street, singing and chanting. The Torah bobbed up and down under a chuppah, carried by children, parents and grandparents.

As the crowd sang "Lo Yisa Goy," Eva's aunt, Marsha Douma, said the Torah was a perfect symbol for her niece. "Eva was a proud, committed Jew. It was a very important part of her life. "

Eva "had an enormous sense of peace with herself," her aunt added, as police officers ushered the congregants across busy intersections. "She lived life without placing barriers on what she thought could be accomplished. Peer pressure didn't really affect her."

Eva's peers, perched on the stoop of the Gunther's house prior to the march, agreed with those sentiments. "When all the other girls were inside practicing ballet, Eva was outside playing dodge ball," said Natalie Zuckerman, 14. "Either that, or tae kwon do," said Amy Kahn, 14.

Other friends recalled Gunther's generosity and spirituality. "I'll always remember how Eva went out of her way to welcome me at school," Deborah Bundy, 15, recalled. "I didn't know anybody, and Eva made sure that I didn't feel left out."

Sitting on a couch in the Gunther's living room before the ceremony, David Kahn, 15, watched as the final inscriptions were made on the Torah. During his bar mitzvah, he had thanked his deceased friend for inspiring him to get more involved with his faith.

"Eva is really the reason I got into Judaism," Kahn said. "Before we became friends, I didn't know anything about it. But she loved being Jewish, and I always respected her opinions, so I decided to give it a try."

Kahn's seat on the couch was one of the few places available with any breathing room. While the Torah was being inscribed, the crowd was standing-room- only, with infants perched on parents' shoulders. Children darted through traffic, jockeying for position around the Gunthers' kitchen table. They watched intently, elbow-to-elbow, as the scribe, Rabbi Schmuel Miller, completed the inscription. After more than half a year of labor, the Torah was ready.

Sharing the spotlight with the scribe and the Torah was Lew.

"Rabbi Miller has written the word Amalek [the name of the Israelites' first enemy] on a piece of paper and has crossed it out." Lew said. "This takes all the negativity out of the Torah."

As people moved forward to watch the process, Robert Krantz, Eva's grandfather, felt himself being swept up by the crowd's momentum. "Don't push, don't push," said the 81 year-old Krantz. "I'm not as spry as I used to be. Everyone just take it easy."

When Miller finished his portion of the inscription, Lew led Mark Gunther to the table.

"When you talk about the Torah, you are talking about the greatest book in the world," Lew said. "In fact, I wish I was the Torah's press agent."

As the crowd laughed, Krantz expressed admiration for Lew's verbal alacrity. "That guy's got an equation for everything," Krantz said. "But he's quick. You gotta give him that. He doesn't skip a beat."

Gunther also never missed a beat. He joked with the crowd, and in a steady, deliberate manner, filled in his share of the letters. "Mark's a lefty," Krantz said to anyone within earshot. "Not on Sandy Koufax's level, but still good."

Before the actual inscription started, Lew began to describe the Torah's mantle, designed by the Gunther's family friend Peachy Levy. But Levy was lightning-quick in cutting off the loquacious rabbi.

"Don't steal my thunder, Rabbi Lew," Levy said. "I've got a speech already memorized."

The sound of laughter rang through the house again, echoing through the hallway. Tucked in a corner, next to display of her sister's mementos, Sophie shared in the crowd's emotions.

"This is a little dog that Eva's best friend gave her," she said. "And this is her black belt, and her 49ers cap."

And then Sophie was asked about her shirt, which had a photograph of Eva on the front and information about the Eva Gunther Foundation for Education on the back.

Beneath Eva's photograph was the phrase, "How'd ya figger?" Sophie was asked what the phrase meant.

"It's just an expression Eva used," Sophie said. When asked again about the expression, she shrugged her shoulders and looked down.

And then emotions overcame her. Her face crinkled up, and she grew pensive, as if remembering something. She looked up slowly, brushing her bangs aside.

And then she laughed.

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