By R.J. Morales | TX3DNews.com
When flames erupted at a Jewish community event in Boulder, Colorado, on June 1, the shock rippled far beyond the state line. For Jewish communities across the U.S.—including here in Collin County—it was a chilling reminder of the rising threat of antisemitic violence.
At least 15 people were injured—among them an 88-year-old Holocaust survivor—when Mohamed Sabry Soliman, an Egyptian national who had overstayed a U.S. visa, attacked a pro-Israel rally using Molotov cocktails. According to court documents, he told investigators he wanted to “kill all Zionist people” and said he would do it again. He now faces federal hate crime and attempted murder charges.
It’s easy to see something like this as a distant tragedy—another horrific act of hate in another city, another state, another headline.
But here in North Texas—especially in Collin County—many of our Jewish neighbors know it’s anything but distant.
The fear isn’t abstract anymore. It’s real. It’s constant.
“We Are Targets Now”
When I spoke with Rabbi Adam Ruditsky of Adat Chaverim in Plano this week, his voice didn’t shake. It didn’t rise. But the conviction cut through.
“We’re targets now,” he said. “It’s becoming open season on Jews.”
The rabbi is 61. He’s lived through decades of ups and downs in America’s relationship with antisemitism, but he said this moment feels different.
“In my lifetime, beyond the occasional name-calling or a joke, it didn’t feel like this. But now? It’s dangerous. This is the worst it’s ever been.”
Ruditsky wasn’t just talking about Colorado. He pointed to a broader pattern: the two Israeli embassy staffers murdered in D.C. on May 21. Vandalism at Governor Josh Shapiro’s home in Pennsylvania. Attacks on college campuses. It’s not a one-off anymore.
It’s a drumbeat.
And it’s changing how Jewish communities here live their lives—from school drop-offs to Shabbat services.
“Security is part of our budget now,” Ruditsky told me. “It’s just our reality. Every time we hold something public, we have armed guards. We had to change our entire protocol after October 7.”
Let’s pause for a moment and let that sink in:
Being visibly Jewish in America today means adjusting your security like a small embassy might. Not in Tel Aviv. Not in some far-off war zone. Right here. In our own congressional district.
That realization isn’t just sad. It’s staggering.
Local Leaders: “Support,” But From a Distance
To be clear, Plano PD has shown up. Ruditsky acknowledged their help last year during the Jewish holidays—cameras installed, patrols stepped up, no charge. And the mayor of Plano sent out a group message expressing concern.
But that’s about where the outreach ends.
“No elected official has ever personally reached out to ask how they can help,” the rabbi said. “We haven’t heard from churches, either. Not even a phone call.”
He did mention one Catholic priest from Melissa who reached out shortly after October 7. But since then? Silence.
“This is our life. Not yours,” he said flatly. “Maybe people think about it, but they’re not talking to us.”
The Data Doesn’t Lie
And it’s not just feelings. According to the Anti-Defamation League, 2024 saw 9,354 antisemitic incidents in the U.S.—the highest ever recorded. North Texas has also seen an increase.
In one especially chilling case, a Jewish student at UT-Dallas said they were told, “If Hamas doesn’t kill you, we will,” after being seen wearing a Star of David necklace.
If a comment like that were directed at a Black or Hispanic student, it might spark broader outrage—perhaps even public statements or community action.
When it’s directed at a Jewish student, though, the response often feels quieter. Sometimes it’s rationalized. Sometimes it’s overlooked entirely.
“Ask Before You Judge Us”
When I asked Rabbi Ruditsky what local residents could do to be better allies, he paused.
Then he said something that stuck with me.
“If someone’s beating up your neighbor, you don’t just stand there and say, ‘Not my problem.’”
His point was simple: speak up. If you hear hate, shut it down. And before you jump to conclusions based on TikTok, talk radio, or your Facebook feed—ask someone. Learn.
“We’re people. We have kids. Jobs. Homes. We’re not some monolith. Not every Jew thinks the same about Israel, or politics, or anything else,” he said. “But it’s like that gets ignored.”
A Call for Unity—and Action
Evan Hunt, a candidate for Congress in TX-03, responded with more depth than the district’s current representative.
“The disturbing attack in Colorado shows that antisemitism is on the rise, and is a painful reminder that America’s War on Terror isn’t over,” he told TX3DNews. “All forms of religious hatred and acts of terror have no place in American society.”
He added: “Our Homeland Security and police forces should prioritize the pursuit of the most dangerous criminals and terrorists—regardless of immigration status. ICE should be working with the FBI and DHS to focus on these types of perpetrators and their networks—not the majority of otherwise law-abiding immigrants.”
He also announced plans to form a local interfaith working group to help “find common ground on the most difficult issues of our time.”
“Celebrating our diversity is important,” he said, “but we also need to celebrate what we have in common.”
He ended with a broader call to action: “We must use our voices—not just to talk, but to lead. Local leaders must loudly reject all forms of terror and hatred for what they are… twisted distortions of all faiths that are totally un-American.”
That’s the kind of response many Jewish residents in our community have been waiting to hear—not just sympathy, but strategy.
It’s Our Problem, Too
Whether you go to church, synagogue, mosque, or nowhere at all—this should matter to you. Antisemitism isn’t just a Jewish problem. It’s a society problem. A democracy problem. A human problem.
It’s a test of what kind of country—and what kind of neighbors—we really are.
And so far? We’re failing it.
Editor’s Note: Rep. Keith Self posted a statement on X (formerly Twitter) condemning the Colorado attack, calling antisemitism “vile” and stating it has “no place in America.” TX3DNews also reached out to his office for additional comment regarding the attack’s local impact. As of publication, we have not received a response.