As soon as I boarded the Dallas-bound plane in Newark I felt like the only Jew for miles around. A man wearing a ten-gallon hat sat in the row across from me, and for a split second I felt relieved that I was able to pass. By the time I made it to Wichita, two flights later, I felt like the only Jew in the universe. Toto, we’re not in New York anymore. What was a nice Jewish girl from the suburbs of New York doing on the Kansas prairie? Oddly enough, the story starts in a Rosh Chodesh group in Jerusalem….