It started with a WhatsApp message from a friend: “Important scoop big if true,” along with a link to the blog of a candy distributor about how the synagogue staple Sunkist Fruit Gems were apparently being discontinued. 

Memories flooded back of chomping into squishy, technicolored jelly bites, feeling the crunch of shattering sugar crystals and the citric acid bite of imitation fruit flavor; of whipping a lime green Fruit Gem at the head of a bar mitzvah boy standing on the bima, aiming right between his eyes, only for the chazzan to snatch the projectile a split second before it smacked the kid in the glabella. 

I passed the tip along to eJewishPhilanthropy’s intrepid correspondent Jay Deitcher, who confirmed with the company that the beloved candy had indeed been discontinued in May, seemingly spelling the end of decades of American Jews using the individually wrapped, kosher treats to shower bar and bat mitzvah celebrants, soon-to-be-wedded couples and others marking joyous life events. The remaining stocks of the candy were quickly snapped up, raising the prices on the Fruit Gems.

The response was overwhelming. On social media, users jokingly — one hopes — called the discontinuation “antisemitic,” and mourned the loss with a tongue-in-cheek baruch dayan emet, “blessed is the judge of truth,” the traditional saying after hearing of a person’s death. Jewish influencers made TikTok videos and Instagram reels lamenting the candy’s demise. eJP’s own Instagram post was “liked” nearly 13,000 times with almost 800 comments — orders of magnitude more than our normal levels of engagement. 

Other news outlets, including The New York Times, followed up on eJP’s report, reflecting on the candy’s significance and ubiquity.

We had clearly touched a nerve (presumably the hunger-controlling vagus nerve or perhaps the glossopharyngeal nerve, which helps control salivation).

In a time of grave polarization and division, Sunkist Fruit Gems brought the Jewish community together. Commenters were Orthodox, Conservative and Reform. Some belonged to explicitly right-wing organizations; others had “Jews 4 Palestine” in their bios. A low-stakes, saccharine drama was apparently just the thing to cut across denominations and political views. 

And the result of the Jewish community’s national, unified outcry was: victory. Two days after eJP’s report — months after discontinuing the candy — Sunkist announced that it was reversing course and would be bringing back the Fruit Gems.

“I guess both democracy and processed jelly sugars die in darkness,” one friend quipped. 

(One also wonders: What else can American Jews accomplish when they put differences aside and unite in common cause?)

Any journalist will tell you that their goal is impact, that their reporting and writing will result in real-world change. By any measure, eJP has had such an impact. Of course, our reporting over the years has had more significant consequences before, garnering support for important causes and holding individuals and organizations accountable for wrongdoing. But this case was immediate, tangible and, well, sweet.