The Gemara (Taanis 22a) tells us how Rabbi Beroka asked Eliyahu Hanavi, “Who in this marketplace is a ben Olam Haba?” Eliyahu pointed to two men, explaining that they had a direct ticket to the World to Come. Curious as to what made them worthy of such definite reward, Rabbi Beroka asked the men what they do. They replied that they make jokes and bring joy and happiness to people.
Michelle Jakobovits, a close neighbor and cousin of mine, who passed away on Tuesday July 10, 2018, was like the two men singled out by Eliyahu Hanavi, for she was always bringing joy and simcha to others. Michelle was overflowing with ahavas Yisrael, and this love was felt by all those privileged to come into her orbit – family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, and, really, any member of klal Yisrael. This manifested itself in the simchos she participated in wholeheartedly, the many organizations she involved herself in and even helped directly, the shiva houses she managed, as well as her ordinary day-to-day interactions.
Dr. Yoel Jakobovits, a well-established physician, well-known talmid chacham, and well-regarded askan, is my second cousin. His grandmother, my Tante Fani, and my grandmother, whom he and Michelle called Tante Malie, were sisters. Tante Fani married Rav Eliyahu Munk, the rav of Paris and author of World of Prayer, and brought her simchas hachaim (joie de vivre) and sense of humor from her native Germany to France. She did not leave it behind even during the most dangerous and fearful times, when she and her husband and children were forced to flee from the Nazis.
Michelle joined the family 45 years ago, when she married Yoel, son of the famous Rabbi Immanuel and Amelie (Munk) Jakobovits (later Lord and Lady), of Great Britain. She then combined the joy and love of life she inherited from her parents, Mr. Shmuel and Mrs. Thea (Schreiber) Tauber, with the simcha of the Munk and Jakobovits families, and shared it with everyone around her.
Michelle’s maternal grandfather, Reb Avraham Schreiber, was a direct descendant of the Chasam Sofer, Rav Moshe Schreiber, and his father-in-law, Rav Akiva Eiger. Reb Avraham, who lived until the age of 102, had known the Chasam Sofer’s daughter. Michelle took great pride in her lineage and the holy blood that flowed through her and through her children. Along with all her joy and positivity, there was an obvious aristocracy about her.
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Upon entering the Jakobovits home during the shiva a few weeks ago, one was greeted by a photograph of a laughing Michelle – because that is how she greeted everyone, with her lovely, lovely laugh. More than just a smile, and never cynical or sarcastic, it was a “tinkly” laugh, emanating from deep within, from a person who loved to be happy and loved to make others happy.
And boy did she make others happy! She raised a large family with heavy doses of love and chochma, creating a home rocking with laughter, which became known as one of the best places to hang around. And her children are all happy, healthy, Torahdik individuals.
“Rabbi Naftoli Neuberger brought us to Yeshiva Lane 38 years ago for what I thought then was a two-year stint at Hopkins,” says Dr. Jakobovits, “but Michelle ‘knew’ that this was the place to bring up our family. How right she was!”
When practically anyone on Yeshiva Lane, and so many others in the Baltimore community at large, made a wedding or bar mitzva, Michelle was usually among the first to offer assistance: accommodations for guests, delicious kugels and salads to feed the hungry hordes on erev Shabbos, delicacies for the Shabbos seudos, help with décor and pulling it all together. She often hosted sheva brachos in her home, with an eye for beauty and tasty food.
She once made a sheva brochos for a chassan who had Crohn’s disease. Though she cooked special food for him according to his restrictions, she made it look the same as everyone else’s so he would not feel uncomfortable. About 15 years later, he still felt grateful to her for her thoughtfulness.
Michelle also provided meals for new mothers and new neighbors. She once made supper for a neighbor who lived in her apartment building. She was unable to make it home in time to bring it over to the neighbor, however, so she asked her to pick it up herself. The neighbor gladly retrieved the supper from the refrigerator on her own, and she promptly served it to her husband and children, to great compliments. A few hours later, she was surprised to receive a phone call from Mrs. Jakobovits. “You only took half of the supper!” Although the neighbor’s family was more than satisfied with one main course, one starch, and a salad, Michelle did not think that was enough and, as usual, had prepared above and beyond.
Yet with all that she did, she laughed off everyone’s thanks and insisted it was no big deal. More often than not, when others tried to reciprocate, she barely even remembered what she had done for them and thanked them profusely – verbally, in writing, or with a gift – for their assistance.
Whenever she met someone, even just in passing in the supermarket, she asked after them and their families and genuinely showed interest, often asking to look at pictures of their children. No wonder so many people later said, “She was my favorite person,” and “She was so beloved.”
With her magic touch, she brought comfort to those in sorrow as well, by bringing over home-cooked food, paper goods, and any necessary groceries and supplies to shiva houses – even before the levaya (funeral) took place. She also arranged meals for the rest of the week and saw to all the other details in each house of mourning. When she was out of town during a recent tragedy, it took several women to do what she had accomplished practically on her own. Here, too, when praised for her acts of chesed and thoughtfulness, she just laughed it all off.
In her thoughtfulness, she showed an interest in others, remembering small details about them, and knowing when to reach into her memory to demonstrate that thoughtfulness. For example, when a neighbor had to miss a family chasana, Michelle showed up on the day of the wedding just to tell her neighbor that she was thinking of her. And when she knocked on the door with her laughing, smiling face, you can be sure she helped take the edge off of the disappointment.
A community member’s child needed specialized therapy on a daily basis, but due to an illness in the family, no family members were available to take him for his therapy. Enter Michelle Jakobovits, who, as if she had nothing else to do, picked him up from his house (a 15-minute drive from her home), brought him to his therapy (a 20-minute drive), and then went to work at Bais Yaakov Middle School (another 15-minute drive). Then, when she finished work, she picked him up from his therapy and brought him back home, and only then did she finally go to her own house. This went on for about a month – back and forth every day – all with her usual smile and laugh, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to give away so much time on a daily basis.
More than 20 years ago, a raging fire swept across two town homes on Yeshiva Lane, destroying everything in its path. Though nobody was hurt, thankfully, the residents of those houses were left homeless, with not much more than the clothes they were wearing. One of those families, the Eisgraus, booked a few rooms in a Days Inn for the night after the fire, until they had time to regroup. Several hours after they had checked into the motel, there was a knock on the door. There stood Michelle Jakobovits, holding several bags containing food, toiletries, personal items, pajamas, even bobby pins and a snood for Mrs. Eisgrau. Most meaningful of all, she presented Mrs. Eisgrau with a siddur, which she had inscribed with a sincere and heartfelt message. Although Mrs. Eisgrau had other siddurim, this was the one she ended up using the most since it was associated with a feeling of warmth and ahavas Yisrael. Earlier this year, Mrs. Eisgrau passed away suddenly. Soon after her petira (passing), her children drew lots to see who would inherit the siddur from Mrs. Jakobovits. Over two decades later, Rabbi Yaakov Eisgrau related, they can still feel Michelle’s thoughtfulness and concern.
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In all this, Dr. Jakobovits was more than just a passive bystander while his wife ran around helping others. Indeed, he is a major chesed player in his own right. Reb Yoel and Michelle excelled in the mitzva of hachnasas orchim (welcoming guests). They invited people whom others often forgot, and made sure to welcome extended family members whenever they were in town. Before an impending snowstorm, they invited Dr. Jakobovits’ elderly cousin and her husband for Shabbos, so that in case the snow piled up too high, the elderly couple would not be stuck in their house but would be surrounded by family. At the time, the Jakobovitses were hosting their son and daughter-in-law for several months, and they were staying in the guest room. Rather than inconvenience their children, Reb Yoel and Michelle moved out of their own master bedroom suite and gave it to their guests, who were none the wiser. And since their son and daughter-in-law were away for Shabbos, they, too, had no clue that their parents had given away their own bedroom and bathroom instead of asking them – a young couple – to empty out their room. All to bring joy to an elderly couple while not marring the joy of their own children.
There is a footnote to the above story. I remember Michelle telling me about a time, soon after their marriage, when she and Reb Yoel stayed at the home of our mutual cousins in Gateshead, England, who gave them their master bedroom – and how amazed she was at the couple’s selflessness. Nonetheless, if anyone were to praise her for her action during that snowstorm, she would of course have played down the whole thing.
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With all of Michelle’s involvement in the community, with all her help during times of simcha (joy) and tzara (trouble), with all the hachnasas orchim that went on in the Jakobovits home, with all the concern she showed others, nothing – absolutely nothing – came before her family.
“My mother was so special,” says her son Nechemia. “So many people came to the shiva and said she touched them in some way. She made everybody her friend, and she meant it. We grew up in a fun and loving house, never feeling neglected, even though we were 10 children. She gave us anything we needed, never taking a thing for herself. We were her life. She was the best mother in the whole world.”
When doing her chesed, Michelle did not impose on her children but involved them in a cheerful way. When hosting a sheva brachos, she often cooked a separate menu for them so they would not resent her involvement.
She did not demand her children’s help, especially after they got married and came to visit, usually begging them to take it easy while she doted on them. When she hosted them for Shabbos, she called beforehand to find out what they wanted so she could prepare their favorite dishes. When they left her house, it was never empty-handed; she would tell them to empty the fridge and freezer, sending them home with roasts and other finds. If her children complimented her on a new possession or item of clothing, it inevitably found its way into their suitcase on their way out. When she was hosted by them, she brought her own linens, along with lots of food and treats for all.
If she lived to give, then giving to her children was her favorite pastime. Michelle once saw a chandelier that she liked and considered purchasing. After further thought, though, she changed her mind: She would much rather be able to give more money to her children than to enjoy a new chandelier in her own home. Making others happy, especially her children, was her primary joy. And when she spoke of her children – every single one of them, children and children-in-law alike – her pride and nachas were obvious in the glow that lit up her face. She was especially proud to see them all grow into bnei and bnos Torah, following in the footsteps of their illustrious forebears.
Michelle taught her children by example. Except during her childrearing years, she davened three times a day, often davening Maariv in the wee hours of the morning. Her tznius, which reflected her aristocratic bearing, was evident in her dress and her mannerisms and continued into her final days, even when she could hardly communicate. Yet perhaps the greatest gift she bestowed on her family was the lesson she gave them in kibud av va’eim. Michelle treated her parents and her in-laws like the royalty they were: serving them, caring for them, waiting on them hand and foot. During the last few months of her life, when she herself was ill and weak, her children had an exact script to follow – written by their very own mother.
Eleven years ago, Michelle was diagnosed with stage four of a dreaded illness. Rather than allowing the illness to take over their lives, Reb Yoel and Michelle made the conscious decision that they would have the last laugh, that they would keep the illness under wraps, so that Michelle could continue bringing cheer to others. During those years, not only did she not slow down, but she went full speed ahead with chesed: helping more individuals, becoming involved in more chesed for the klal. Had others known, they would have surely felt pity and not asked her to help out, and they would not have accepted her offers. In addition, they would have been afraid to share their own problems with her. Yes, she really had the last laugh.
Around Pesach of this year, the disease became more complex. Though Michelle still cleaned, cooked, and hosted before and during Pesach, soon after Yom Tov the situation slowly began to unravel. At first, she did not want anybody to know. How could people visit her, bring her food, help her out, when it was supposed to be the other way around? In time, though, she learned to accept the help offered her, making sure to show her gratitude as much as she was able to.
During this period, she was often too weak to speak on the phone, even to her children. Nevertheless, when a neighbor’s daughter got engaged, she made sure to pick up the phone and call to wish mazal tov. Anything to share in another’s simcha.
Whenever I went to visit her, I would tell myself that I was only going to stay for 20 minutes, since I did not want to tax her. Inevitably, I would be having so much fun shmoozing and laughing with her that before I knew it 30 minutes had passed. During one of my last visits, she was so weak that she was sleeping most of the day and could barely speak. But I still got to hear her beautiful laugh. How I cherish the memory of that sound, that last laugh.
* * *
When discussing the eishes chayil, Shlomo Hamelech writes: “Oz vehadar levusha vatischak leyom acharon – Strength and majesty are her raiment, and she joyfully awaits the last day.” Michelle had nothing to fear at the end of her life. She had already outfitted herself with such oz and hadar during her productive lifetime that she was able to laugh in the face of death.
Oz vehadar, strength and majesty, are also accurate descriptions for her dignified levaya. The funeral home was packed, with over 1,000 people in attendance, and more than that number of viewers online. Her seven sons touched on her many attributes in different ways, each one focusing on what he had gleaned from his relationship with their majestic mother. Reb Yoel, with tremendous oz and strength, thanked Hashem for all the good He bestowed upon him and Michelle, and encouraged the attendees by citing the optimistic words of Dovid Hamelech.
Though Michelle is now joyfully reaping the rewards for all the selfless acts in her lifetime, we, those left behind, are bereft and forlorn — without her help, without her wisdom, without her cheer, without her laugh.
May we find joy in emulating her special ways, and may we soon be zocheh (merit) to the fulfillment of: “Az yimalei schok pinu uleshoneinu rina – Then our mouth will be filled with laughter and our tongue with glad song.”
A version of this article first appeared in Yated Neeman.
Sidebar
In the Community
In addition to the personal chasadim that Michelle did for individuals far and near, she also took on responsibilities for organizations that were close to her heart. She was a founder and pillar of P’TACH, the first organization that recognized the need to provide special education for children of the community. It was the precursor of the services that special needs children enjoy today.
Mr. Steve Storch, who worked with her on the board, says, “Mrs. Jakobovits was on the board from the beginning, for over 20 years. She was a phenomenal lady. She brought so much to the table. She knew the financial side and was also very well versed in special education. She was a part of every activity and was always willing to roll up her sleeves. She gave of herself so freely and with such ease. It was beautiful to see.”
Cheryl Greenfield and Michelle were lifelong friends who grew up together in Queens. They continued their close friendship in Baltimore. “We did so many things together,” says Cheryl. “I remember dragging bags with mailings for P’TACH to the post office with our little kids tugging at our skirts. We were co-presidents of Bais Yaakov, and we worked in the Bais Yaakov kitchen, cooking for graduation dinners and various events. Michelle was an unbelievable person – always doing things for her children and grandchildren, as well as the community. She always knew what was best for each child and grandchild, and she took it upon herself to provide it. She did chesed nonstop. Even recently, she was in involved in selling tickets for Simchas Esther. She didn’t make a big deal of anything. She had a smile and a wonderful, happy demeanor all the time.”
