Artificial Intelligence (AI) is everywhere. From a nerdy science discipline a few years ago, it has become one of the most influential driving forces of our society. If you’ve ever marveled at an AI-created poem or piece of music, if you’ve ever taken a ride in the Waymo driverless taxi or searched for information on the most obscure of topics and gotten a clear and detailed answer in seconds, you have encountered the seemingly magical power of AI.

A discipline that has been around since 1956[1], AI refers to a branch of computer science dealing with getting computers to mimic human behavior. Recent breakthroughs and real-world applications have seen it enter our daily lives. Yet despite its wonders, questions swarm around its potential benefits and dangers and how it will impact our society and individual lives.

Home and architectural salvage stores don’t resemble traditional home-improvement retailers. There are no boxed displays or matching sets, and very little is staged. Instead, these spaces are filled with materials that once belonged somewhere else – doors, lighting, fixtures, and hardware removed during renovations and clean-outs. For people working on a home, these stores often become a valuable resource once they understand how they work.

The inventory comes from a mix of places. Older homes, office buildings, hotels, and model units are stripped during renovations, and usable materials are set aside rather than discarded. Some pieces clearly come from earlier eras. Others are pulled from newer spaces where owners upgraded finishes long before anything wore out. What ends up on the floor depends entirely on what was donated that week.

Walking through a salvage store feels like part warehouse, part storage space. Doors are stacked upright along walls. Light fixtures hang in rows or rest on long tables. Bins of drawer pulls, knobs, and hinges sit side by side, and shelves hold tile, sinks, faucets, and mirrors. Larger items – vanities, cabinets, even bathtubs – are spaced wherever there’s room. The layout isn’t polished, but it’s usually logical once you spend a few minutes looking around.

The call came on a Sunday night, which is when these calls often come. A woman I’d met once at a Shabbos meal – quiet, polite, not someone who calls rabbis – was apologizing before she’d even said why she was calling.

“My father is in hospice,” she said. “He signed up with a cremation society years ago. He’s not religious, he never was, and he’s been very clear. I don’t even know why I’m calling you. I guess I just want to know, am I allowed to bring it up? Or is that a terrible thing to do to a dying man?”

I have been asked some version of that question many times, in hospital corridors, in prisons, at kitchen tables, and over the phone at hours when most people are asleep. And I want to begin where I began with her, because it is the most important thing I can tell you:

“Yes. You are allowed to bring it up. Not only allowed. If you are asking the question at all, it is probably because you love this person, and love is a perfectly good reason to have a hard conversation.”

In preparing this piece, I consulted on a forum with fellow Chabad rabbis around the world, colleagues who sit with families at these moments far more often than any of us would like, and I asked them to share their experiences. Several of their stories and insights have been woven into what follows.

by Anonymous

 When you hear the word “alcoholic,” what do you imagine? A person on a park bench, drinking out of a paper bag? Yet I am an alcoholic, and I don’t resemble that stereotype at all. This disease does not discriminate between young and old, male or female, wealthy or poor, professional or unemployed. I am just like you. I am a father, a husband, a son, and a friend. I daven in the same shul as you, and I send my children to the same yeshivos as you. I am the same as you, with one exception: I am powerless over alcohol. In this article, I hope to bring awareness about this deadly, progressive disease. I will share my personal journey – from when alcohol was something I enjoyed in small, infrequent quantities to something I could not live without – and finally, to my tentative recovery.

Driving has always been a pleasurable pastime of mine, and it has become more than a way to get from here to there and the source of many interesting experiences.

When our children came of age – 15 years and nine months – my husband and I teamed up to prepare them with the rudiments of a successful life of driving in Baltimore. My husband gave them their basic starter hours, and a certified driving instructor taught the Maryland required course. Once they could safely drive on the street without incident, I took over so they could hone their skills and get to their milestone of 60 hours required by Maryland MVA. This was followed by a celebratory trip to the MVA where they passed the test and received their licenses. They always appreciated the aftermath: congratulatory messages from relatives, high fives from close friends, and a new feeling of maturity and independence. 

I have always had a love for Eretz Yisrael and wanted to make aliyah, but I was determined never to leave my mother behind. My mother, Emma Sarah Hubert Mogilensky, a”h, moved to Baltimore about six months after we did. Born in Germany, she was sent away from home alone on the Kindertransport and lost her parents in the Holocaust. Rebuilding her life with my father in America, she became a widow at age 56. When she passed away at age 92, it was time to reconsider our life choices.

At the time, all three of our sons were living in Israel, two in Jerusalem and one in Bnei Brak. Our daughter lives in Lakewood, NJ. I had switched jobs about a year-and-a-half earlier, and I had mentioned at the interview that I would one day want to move to Israel and take my job with me. Amazingly enough, they were open to the idea. So, a month or so after my mother passed away, I told them that we were moving. One year after my mother passed away, we moved to Jerusalem. I had traveled to Israel seven months previously and bought an apartment in the Maalot Dafna neighborhood of Jerusalem, near two of our sons. We sold our home in Baltimore, and it became a down payment on our far smaller Jerusalem apartment. (Location, location, location!)

Making aliyah is incredibly exciting – the fulfillment of a dream. At the same time, it is totally overwhelming. There is so much to adjust to. I was 59, and my husband was 62 when we made aliyah. Learning to manage in Hebrew was and still is quite challenging. Let’s look at possibly the three biggest adjustments other than the language: grocery shopping, transportation, and health care. When you, i”yH, make aliyah one day, you can thank me for the heads up.

What is the right age for starting school? My birthday is in June, and I started first grade when I had just turned five. That is because my mother was teaching kindergarten and did not want me in her class. I remember the principal carrying me kicking and screaming to the first-grade classroom. I was a good student, but I was shy and did not have many friends. Maybe it would have been better for me to start first grade at six? Who knows? One thing I can say is that now, many years later, it doesn’t matter at all.

This is a topic of interest to everyone with a child whose birthday is close to the deadline. Every child is different, of course, and what works for one may not work for another, but for those on the border, is it generally better for them to be the oldest or the youngest in the class?

We’ve been through six bizarre and momentous years that brought us covid, elections, a horrendous terror attack, and miracles on a Biblical scale as Israel defeated six enemies. The last major miracle was just a few weeks ago, with the miraculous Dubai flight, in which 180 lives were spared through enormous divine providence. Whatever happens in the upcoming elections, let us pray that Hashem will continue to help us and protect us as He has until now.

*  *  *

Over the past 30 years, since his first term in 1996, Binyamin Netanyahu has spent 19 years as prime minister. He long ago passed David Ben Gurion’s 13-year record, a feat which seemed impossible at the time. The third longest reigning prime minister was far behind: Yitzchak Shamir, at six years. The fact is that a lot of people like having Netanyahu as leader. That is why they continue to vote for him.

Bullying and general meanness are unfortunately present in our schools. Yes, it has to do with the immaturity of the students, but does it have to be this way? In a community that prides itself on good middos, what can we do to eliminate this harmful behavior?

We at the Where What When received this poignant letter. We considered placing it in the Letters to the Editor but decided that the topic is important and deserves special attention. We therefore turn to you, our readers. The writer is asking for advice. Let’s give it to her. We’re sure that many of you have a lot