Features
The real story behind Sammy Davis Jr.’s conversion to Judaism
Jewish comedians made racist jokes about him. Some Black audiences booed him. But his faith was genuine
By Beth Harpaz February 23, 2023
(This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.)
Sammy Davis Jr. was a short and skinny Black man with one eye. His wife was white, his mother was Puerto Rican and he was a convert to Judaism. In the crass and racist world of mid-20th century comedy, he was a walking punchline, even in his own routines.
“When I move into a neighborhood, I wipe it out,” was his standard self-deprecating gag. The line received knowing laughs in the 1950s and ’60s when many towns forbade property sales to Blacks and Jews, and whites often fled when Black families moved into their neighborhoods.
Jokes by his fellow entertainers were crude. In a live skit at the Sands in Las Vegas in 1963, Dean Martin physically lifted Davis up (he weighed a mere 120 pounds) and said, “I’d like to thank the NAACP for this wonderful trophy.” At a Friars Club roast, comedian Pat Buttram said that if Davis showed up in Buttram’s home state of Alabama, folks “wouldn’t know what to burn on the lawn.”
Jewish comedians got their licks in, too. Milton Berle cross-dressed as Davis’ white wife, May Britt, and sang, to the tune of “My Yiddishe Mama,” “My Yiddish Mau-Mau,” a reference to an anti-British rebellion in Kenya.
At another roast, Joey Bishop said he’d “never been so embarrassed” in his life as when he met Davis in synagogue. When the rabbi came in, Bishop said, “Sammy jumped up and hollered, ‘Here come the judge!’”
This cringeworthy line was delivered by Davis himself in a show at the Copa: “I don’t know whether to be shiftless and lazy, or smart and stingy.”
Some of these jokes implied that it was preposterous for a Black man to convert to Judaism. But for Sammy Davis Jr., being Jewish “was the most logical thing in the world,” historian Rebecca L. Davis told me. “Over and over again, he made this analogy between being Jewish and African American. He was very admiring of the Jewish millennia-long struggle against oppressors and overcoming all kinds of obstacles.” He saw himself as “an outsider and very marginalized, and he could see in the Jewish experience a similarity that really drew him in emotionally.”
Davis, a history professor at the University of Delaware (and no relation to Sammy), has done extensive research on the entertainer’s conversion, his career and how he was perceived. Her article, “‘These Are a Swinging Bunch of People’: Sammy Davis, Jr., Religious Conversion, and the Color of Jewish Ethnicity,” appeared in the American Jewish History journal in 2016, and she included a chapter about him in her 2021 book, Public Confessions: The Religious Conversions That Changed American Politics. Her take is that Davis was not only one of the most successful entertainers of the 20th century despite the many racist barriers in his way, but that his Jewish faith was utterly genuine.
The fateful accident
Davis lost his eye when he crashed his car driving home to California from Las Vegas in November 1954. One of several stories about what sparked Davis’ path to conversion originates with the aftermath of the accident. He wrote in his 1965 autobiography, Yes I Can, that his friends Tony Curtis, who was Jewish, and Janet Leigh, who was not, arrived at the hospital and Leigh gave him a religious medal with St. Christopher on one side and a Star of David on the other. “Hold tight and pray and everything will be all right,” Leigh told him.
Davis later told Alex Haley in a Playboy interview that he gripped the object so tightly that the Star of David left a scar on his hand, “like a stigmata.” He took it as a sign that he should convert.
Davis also felt that he owed his career to a Jewish man, Eddie Cantor, who ironically had been one of vaudeville’s best-known blackface performers; Cantor’s act earned him a spot with the Ziegfeld Follies. Decades later, Cantor gave Davis his first big break, a solo televised appearance on the Colgate Comedy Hour in 1952, and became a father figure to him. “He saw Cantor’s Jewishness as part of what made Cantor a good person,” said Rebecca Davis.
In another version of how his car accident led to his conversion, Sammy Davis said that a mezuzah Cantor gave him had mistakenly been left behind in a hotel room the day of the crash. That story transformed the mezuzah “into a talisman,” Rebecca Davis observed, another signpost on the road to his conversion.
Identifying as a Jew
In his memoir, Sammy Davis recalled Rabbi Max Nussbaum, of Temple Israel in Hollywood, telling him, “We cherish converts, but we neither seek nor rush them.” But he began to publicly identify as Jewish before formally converting. In 1959 he refused to film scenes for the movie Porgy and Bess on Yom Kippur, while Ebony ran a photo of him holding Everyman’s Talmud.
He also repeatedly compared the oppression of Jews to that of African Americans. In his 1989 book, Why Me?, he wrote that he was “attracted by the affinity between the Jew and the Negro. The Jews had been oppressed for three thousand years instead of three hundred but the rest was very much the same.” When he visited the Wailing Wall in 1969, he said Israel was his “religious home.”
The reception from Black audiences
American Jews by and large loved him, and his reception in the Jewish press, including the Forward, was also positive, Rebecca Davis said. But it was more complicated for Black media. On the one hand, she said, he was “this exemplar of Black success, very wealthy, very famous, very successful” in an era of rampant racism.
On the other hand, there was “confusion and anger” about why — as a prominent Black activist who joined marches, raised money and was the United Negro College Fund’s largest donor — Sammy Davis so often connected the civil rights cause to Judaism. While there were a “disproportionate number of Jews who were passionate about civil rights and were willing to put their personal safety on the line to stand up for civil rights,” at the same time, Jews were part of a “broader American culture that saw African Americans as inferiors. That was the prevailing cultural norm among white people in the 1950s,” Rebecca Davis said. Other critics felt that he had converted to ingratiate himself with whites as a way to get ahead.
And when he “let himself be the joke” as part of the Rat Pack — a loose ensemble of performers that included Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra and Peter Lawford — that “really angered a lot of African Americans who saw him more as performing for white audiences than for Black audiences.”
He formally converted with Britt shortly before their wedding in 1960. She was as serious about it as he was, making sure, even after they were divorced, that their children went to Hebrew school and that their son was bar mitzvahed.
Disinvited from JFK’s inauguration
But their marriage also resulted in one of the most painful episodes of his life, when he was disinvited from John F. Kennedy’s presidential inauguration. The Democratic coalition that elected JFK included Southern white Democrats, and they did not want a Black man married to a white woman performing at the celebration. “They forced Davis out,” Rebecca Davis said. “He was so stung by that. Here he was on stage and on film with Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra and the biggest stars of the day, and they all got to go to the inauguration, but he didn’t.”
That rejection helps explain Davis’ subsequent embrace of Richard Nixon. “Nixon, who was politically very devious, figured he could use Sammy Davis as a token African American supporter by overdoing it and inviting him to sleep in the Lincoln bedroom,” Rebecca Davis said. That made him the first Black man to spend the night as a guest in the White House.
Some African Americans saw Davis’ alignment with Nixon and the Republicans as a betrayal. Harry Belafonte and Sidney Poitier stopped returning his phone calls, Rebecca Davis wrote, and a year or two after he performed at the 1972 Republican National Convention, he was booed at an event organized by Jesse Jackson.
He responded to the boos by saying, “I get it. I understand. But I need you to know, I always did it my way. It’s the only way I’ve got,” Rebecca Davis said. “Then he sang ‘I’ve Gotta Be Me,’ and they gave him a standing ovation.”
A steadfast Jew until the end
His third wife, Altovise, was a churchgoer, but Sammy Davis remained a steadfast Jew until the day he died. Everything he said about Judaism “was said with the utmost sincerity,” Rebecca Davis said. “He never once looked back and said, ‘Oh, that was just a phase I was going through.’ And he never talked about it in terms of his career. He only talked about it as something that spoke to him on a deep level.”
Davis died of throat cancer in 1990 at age 64. Sinatra, Berle, Liza Minnelli, Stevie Wonder, Dionne Warwick and many other celebrities were among thousands of mourners who backed up traffic for 8 miles en route to the funeral at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in LA. Rabbi Allen Freehling presided at the service, but the eulogy was given by Jesse Jackson.
“To love Sammy was to love Black and white, Black and Jew,” he said, “and to embrace the human family.”
The service also included one last standing ovation for Davis, when they played a recording of – what else? – “I’ve Gotta Be Me.”
Beth Harpaz is a reporter for the Forward. She previously worked for The Associated Press, first covering breaking news and politics, then as AP Travel editor. Email: harpaz@forward.com.
This article was originally published on the Forward
Features
Streaming-only households are growing in Canada
More and more Canadians are cutting the cord and relying exclusively on internet-delivered video. Fresh industry data indicates streaming-only homes are approaching three in then households, while the share with no cable or satellite subscription hit roughly 46% in 2024, clear signs of a decisive shift toward SVOD and free ad-supported streaming.
Cord-cutting crosses a new threshold
The long-running trickle of cord-cutting has become a stream. Convergence Research’s latest “Couch Potato” outlook estimates that 46% of Canadian households had no cable, satellite or telco TV subscription in 2024, up four percent from 2023, with the figure projected to rise further in the next few years. Trade coverage of the same report underscores the trend: OTT revenues rose an estimated 15% in 2024 as traditional TV subscriptions continued falling. While individual timelines differ by source, the trend is the same: legacy TV is shrinking fast as Canadians rebuild their viewing stacks around apps.
At the same time, streaming is not only near-universal but increasingly standalone. Media in Canada reported “nearly three in 10” households are streaming-only, relying on online sources instead of cable bundles. It’s a trend we’ve seen in other fields as well, such as casino games, where people are more interested in the online alternatives instead of landbased sites. Thus, digitalization is not a TV-thing only, but a general trend in the country. Young adult Canadians are even more onboard on this trend, accelerating the generational hand-off from channel guides to connected-TV home screens.
Regulatory and market signals reinforce the shift as well. In June 2024, the CRTC required large online streaming services to contribute 5% of their Canadian revenues to support local news and domestic content. Major platforms challenged certain aspects of the framework, but the new contributions regime, according to reports, should add roughly C$200 million annually to the ecosystem.
What’s driving streaming-only growth
Three intertwined forces explain why this change keeps advancing. First come value and flexibility: with household budgets under pressure, Canadians are more selective about which services they keep year-round. MTM’s 2024/2025 read shows people are “streamlining” their subscriptions, maintaining one or two anchors and rotating others around tent-pole releases, while filling gaps with free ad-supported TV and platform freebies.
Technology and habit formation have an important role as well. The app grid on a smart TV has replaced the channel guide for many households; game consoles and streaming sticks have made it trivial to jump between different streaming apps. Once viewers get used to on-demand navigation, reverting to fixed-time channels feels limiting, especially for younger audiences that were born with immediacy and personalization.
Content economics are nudging straggles online too. Rights for premium series and more live sports are flowing to digital, thanks to options like NBA Pass, F1 TV Pro, and others. As subscription TV revenues are declining, broadcasters and distributors are experimenting with slimmer linear tiers, hybrid bundles that pair broadband with streamer discounts, and ad-supported options that meet price-sensitive households where they are. The result is a feedback loop: as more content and better prices accrue to streaming, more households find they no longer need traditional TV packages at all.
Features
Exploring how to earn money in Tongits Go and GZone Tongits: Rewards and Myths
Tongits stands out as one of the most iconic card games in the Philippines, fusing fun, excitement, strategy, and social interaction. Spanning generations, this traditional game has remained a staple during family gatherings and leisure moments, bringing people together with its engaging mechanics. The emergence of mobile platforms such as Tongits Go elevated the experience further, offering Filipino players the opportunity to enjoy the thrill of the game anywhere and anytime. Alongside this advancement, however, a recurring question floods online forums: “Can I and how to earn money in Tongits Go? ”
Understanding the answer requires separating myths from facts surrounding Tongits Go, as well as examining alternatives like GZone Tongits, which brings competitive gameplay and tangible rewards into the picture.
Tongits Go: Digital Entertainment Rooted in In-Game Progress and Rewards
The appeal of Tongits Go lies in its seamless ability to deliver the essence of the traditional card game in a digital format. Widely accessible on mobile devices, the app continues to attract thousands of players seeking entertainment and lighthearted competition. However, misinformation about its ability to provide real monetary benefits stirs confusion, with claims linking how to earn money in Tongits Go to GCash as a source of cash withdrawals.
Myth: Real Money Withdrawals Are a Tongits Go Feature
Tongits Go is designed purely as an entertainment-centric platform. It operates as a digital space for online casino rather than an e-wallet or online casino. While players can earn in-app rewards such as Gold and Gostars, these hold value only within the game environment. Gold is primarily used for joining tables, competing in tournaments, and unlocking gameplay options. Gostars, meanwhile, are accumulated through completing daily missions or participating in special events. Occasionally, Gostars may be redeemed for prepaid loads or promotional digital vouchers, but these opportunities are infrequent and offer minimal monetary value.
Contrary to false claims about Tongits Go online acting as a money-making platform, there is no system in place for converting virtual winnings to genuine cash. The promotion of such statements often stems from unofficial or unreliable sources, heightening the need for player vigilance in protecting their personal information against scams.
Fact: In-Game Achievements Enhance the Fun Factor
How to earn real money in Tongits Go account rewards players through engaging in-game challenges that foster personal growth and development without monetary stakes. Tools such as the Battle Pass system, tournament leaderboards, achievement rewards, and daily missions help players track their progress and compete against others for prizes such as additional Gold and Gostars.
This approach motivates participants to focus on enhancing their gameplay skills and sharpening their strategies, contributing to a vibrant community atmosphere built on friendly competition.
Promoting Safe Play and Caution
How to earn real money in Tongits Go emphasizes ethical and responsible practices by encouraging players to moderate their time spent on the app. The developers position the game as a platform for relaxation and recreation rather than profit generation, warning users to remain alert against external claims promising “real cash withdrawals.” Ensuring safe and responsible play remains a cornerstone of Tongits Go’s philosophy.
GZone Tongits: Navigating Competitive Gameplay with Genuine Rewards
For players seeking higher stakes, GZone Tongits stands out as a viable alternative. Unlike Tongits Go, which functions purely as an entertainment platform, GZone Tongits combines skill-based gameplay with tangible rewards. As a PAGCOR-licensed platform adhering to Philippine online casino regulations, GZone guarantees fair competition, transparency, and a safe player experience.
Real-Time PVP Competitions
Unlike casual apps, GZone Tongits incorporates Player vs. Player (PVP) matchups where individuals compete against other real players rather than AI opponents. This format introduces a dynamic and unpredictable element to each round while maintaining familiar mechanics rooted in traditional Tongits online gameplay.
Several variations of how to play Tongits are offered through GameZone Tongits, catering to diverse player preferences. Tongits Plus sticks closely to the original Filipino rules, preserving cultural authenticity. Tongits Joker introduces Joker cards, adding new layers of challenge and strategy. Tongits Quick, on the other hand, is a streamlined, fast-paced version suited for shorter play sessions. With flexible table levels ranging from Newbie to Master, the platform accommodates players of all skill levels, fostering an inclusive environment.
Legal Regulation and Verified Rewards
Game Zone Tongits sets itself apart through its legal framework, which guarantees its credibility across game transactions. As a PAGCOR-certified online casino platform, it abides by strict regulatory guidelines, ensuring fairness, transparency, and security for every player involved in competitions. Key events, such as the prestigious ₱10,000,000 GameZone Tablegame Champions Cup (GTCC)—the Philippines’ first Tongits e-sports championship—offer significant rewards to top-performing individuals, elevating the competitiveness of the game.
Unlike Tongits Go, GZone Tongits creates earning opportunities that are verified and legitimate. The presence of regulated payout systems ensures real-value rewards for players, making competition profitable without compromising integrity.
Smart Reward Structures and Responsibility in GameZone casino
GameZone Tongits supports an ecosystem that rewards players strategically while promoting responsible practices. Features such as daily and weekly rebates return percentages of wagers to players, creating avenues to continually reinvest and optimize their play experience.
VIP levels unlock better rewards and exclusive access to high-stakes tables for loyal players, while regular tournaments and leaderboard placements recognize skill and consistency, offering tangible prizes and acknowledgment. Tools for establishing spending limits and setting playtime boundaries enable players to engage responsibly, reinforcing GameZone’s commitment to moderation and sustainability.
Exploring Tongits Platforms Based on Player Preferences
Tongits Go provides a welcoming space for casual gamers seeking entertainment, social connections, and lighthearted play. Its focus on digital rewards, such as prepaid loads and promotional incentives, keeps gameplay enjoyable without monetary pressure. Those who prioritize relaxation and shared laughs often gravitate toward Tongits Go as the ideal choice for convenient online casino experiences.
Meanwhile, GameZone online Tongits appeals to competitive enthusiasts ready to immerse themselves in tournaments offering real-world prizes. Its elevated gameplay merges professional standards with Filipino tradition, providing guaranteed payouts alongside thrilling matchups. GameZone Tongits delivers a regulated environment perfect for individuals looking to combine play skills with tangible rewards.
Preserving Filipino Tongits Culture Through Modern Play
The allure of Tongits transcends generations, blending strategy and camaraderie to create an experience steeped in Filipino tradition. Digital platforms such as Tongits Go and GameZone slot adapt this beloved pastime to modern online casino preferences, catering to players from varied backgrounds and interests. Whether pursuing casual engagement or competitive achievements, the game retains its heart through its ability to build connections and challenge players to think intelligently.
Features
Dating in New York after Oct. 7 was already painful. Then came Zohran Mamdani
By David Berkowitz October 31, 2025
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
I was considering getting back together with someone I dated earlier this year. When we reconnected this past summer, we hit it off again instantly. As we took in the sunset along the East River promenade, we reminisced about how easily the conversation had always flowed between us.
But then, she had to ask the question: “Who are you going to vote for?”
“I have to vote for Mamdani,” I said.
And that was the end of that. It became a Zohran Mamdani breakup. Or, Mamdani, the Democratic candidate for New York City mayor, torched the chances of us getting back together. I have him to blame — or thank — for that one.
Dating in New York City has never been easy. Dating here as a divorced 40-something Jewish dad seeking to meet other Jews in a post-Oct. 7 world, with an autocrat as president and a democratic socialist running for mayor, is almost impossible. There are so many political reasons to decide it’s not worth it to pursue a relationship with someone — even before determining how well you’d really get along.
When I resumed using dating apps this spring, after the end of my first long-term relationship following my divorce, I noticed that way more Jewish women in their 30s and 40s were listing their politics as “moderate” than I’d ever seen before. Many of them showcased Israeli flags or Stars of David in their bios or noted something positive about Israel or Zionism.
As I began chatting with potential interests, I learned that for some women, the aftermath of the Oct. 7 attack had transformed them from social liberals into supporters of President Donald Trump, due to Republicans’ perceived alignment with Israel’s interests. Others were liberal and perhaps even progressive in many of their views, but adamantly Zionist. They were thus much more conservative than me when it came to any question about Israel’s right to keep prosecuting a war with an exceptionally high civilian death toll.
Being back on the dating scene was a minefield. And then Mamdani’s stunning surge in the Democratic mayoral primary began.
I wasn’t ready to vote for Mamdani in the primary, instead ranking his Jewish ally, Comptroller Brad Lander, first. But the more I learned, the more comfortable I was with Mamdani’s vision and plans for New York. And he’s running for mayor of New York City, after all, not Tel Aviv.
Yet what I found: With many potential dates, even an allusion to Mamdani would halt any progress in its tracks.
Just this month — ironically, on Oct. 7 — I was having a pleasant back-and-forth with someone on Lox Club, the supposedly selective dating app for Jews with “ridiculously high standards.” I was increasingly eager to meet her: She was bright, pretty, well-traveled, and, most importantly, starting to find me hilarious.
She lived in Manhattan, like me. But when I asked about where she’s from, she said she’s from Long Island and that she’ll likely move back after the election if Mamdani wins.
Part of me was tempted to say whatever was needed to at least score a date. I could have done the texting version of smiling and nodding, perhaps validating her fears and saying I’m worried too. But I suspected I’d be wasting my time pretending we could accommodate differing outlooks on the city’s future. I texted her that I’m convinced a Mamdani administration would be way better for the city than most people fear. Still, it seemed our views were too divergent, as much as I’d have loved to meet her. She agreed, and I ruefully tapped “unmatch.”
In some ways, it seems frivolous to lament the plight of diaspora dating. The trauma experienced by Jewish daters in the comfortable environs of New York City can’t possibly be compared to the trauma of those who experienced the terror of Oct. 7, or the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza during the subsequent war.
But there’s a real cost to Jews becoming more suspicious of one another. We risk isolating ourselves into smaller and smaller blocs, making it harder for us to connect once we find each other.
It also means that those who take a less reactive and more nuanced view wind up silencing themselves. How can I express that my heart was torn apart every time I heard first-hand accounts from freed hostages who returned to Israel — but that I also grieve deeply over the devastation in Gaza? How can I admit that former Gov. Andrew Cuomo has a good track record in connecting with Jewish voters and would likely reliably stand up to antisemitism, but be more compelled by Mamdani’s infectious love for New York City — and believe his criticism of Israel doesn’t make him an antisemite?
And how can I express my love for Israel — the idea of it and its people, though not necessarily its government — while voting for a candidate who questions Israel’s viability as a Jewish state?
For too many Jewish daters like myself, there is increasingly a sense that looking for someone who is also willing to take an open-minded approach to conflicting political truths is like praying for a miracle.
There was one promising moment, before my springtime interest and I decided not to renew our romance, that gave me hope. My date and I watched an episode of Real Time with Bill Maher, one of her favorite shows, together. I hadn’t seen his show in so many years that I was game to see why she enjoyed it so much.
I was surprised she could find humor in someone so critical of Trump, the president for whom she voted. She was surprised I could agree with a lot of the centrist views from Maher and his guests, most of which didn’t toe the progressive line. I told her that night that if things worked out between us, we’d have to invite Maher to our wedding.
That obviously didn’t happen. But I still think we need more moments like that — opportunities to appreciate both our commonalities and differences. I could envision another version of that relationship, where we end up listening to different podcasts and following different Instagram accounts, but still find areas where we can share similar perspectives and laugh at the same jokes.
I’m skeptical, and disheartened. But I’m still holding out hope for some future “Maher weddings” — even though with every swipe right or left, it feels increasingly naïve to think that. And yet, at heart, I’m a Jew, and I’ve studied enough of the history of the Jews to know that we’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this. But not before more anniversaries of Oct. 7 have passed.
David Berkowitz is the author of The Non-Obvious Guide to Using AI for Marketing and founder of the AI Marketers Guild.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Forward. Discover more perspectives in Opinion. To contact Opinion authors, email opinion@forward.com.
This story was originally published on the Forward.