Out in the Cold
It was a cold February day in the 1960s, and it was snowing on Jonquil Avenue. About two inches had covered the lawns and side walks, but the snow kept falling hard. My mom opened the front door and looked up the street, where she noticed a neighbor, an elderly gentleman, standing on the sidewalk in front of his home. He was not wearing boots and looked chilled. About half-an-hour later, she noticed the same gentleman, in a heavy winter coat and hat that was now covered with snow, was still standing in front of his home in the heavy snowfall. Fearing he was locked out, my mom and I walked up the street and invited the gentleman to take refuge in our home. He was grateful but declined. He was not locked out, explained he, but he and his wife could not locate their kesuva, and it was not halachically permissible for him to be in his house until a kesuva could be found or a new one written. After pleading with the freezing gentleman, we finally convinced him to take refuge in our home. We gave him some hot tea, and he defrosted slowly. He remained in our home for a few hours and had a bite to eat, and later that evening the wife located the kesuva, b”H, and they were back in their home happily ever after.
The Sinking Boat Ride
The boat left Baltimore' Harborplace with over 100 members of the frum community enjoying an evening cruise on the Chesapeake Bay. A half-hour after leaving the dock, waiters and waitresses began to serve the smorg and then a festive dinner to all the guests. The event was a fundraiser for an important kiruv organization. The food was tasty but a little unusual. A good friend of mine noticed one of the waitresses putting out some crackers that did not have a hechsher. He immediately spoke to the waitress and told her that the crackers she was serving were not kosher and asked to see the mashgiach at once.
“A mashgiach, sir? There is no mashgiach on board tonight,” the waitress said.
“Isn’t this a kosher event?”
“Well, sir, you see the little fish cakes they are serving on that table over there? Those are genuine Maryland crab cakes. This is not a kosher event.”
Within minutes of the discovery, word spread through the ship that a terrible error had occurred. Who would now walk the plank?! Everyone stopped eating and many washed out their mouths. Some threw up. The ship returned to dock right away and the evening came to an abrupt end.
Apparently, a major mix-up had occurred. This particular caterer had a kosher and a non-kosher division, and somehow the booking was entered under the treif division by mistake. The terrible error upset everyone terribly, and the fateful voyage became a lesson in the inherent danger of dealing with a caterer who is not totally kosher in all divisions.
Carnival or Wedding?
There was a carnival every year at Bais Yaakov when it was located on the Greenspring Avenue campus. The carnival was open to the community and was a fundraising event for the school. A group of boys and girls gathered down at the old barn, and one of the boys presented a young girl with a ring as a joke, also uttering some very serious words: “Harei at mikudeshis li.” It turned out not to be a joke at all! Rabbanim met the next day to decide if the kiddushin was valid. The issue was finally resolved, but not without some anxious moments!
Titanic Toveling
I once heard this story but never totally verified its validity. A very large and heavy piece of kitchen equipment had to be toveled. Because of its size, it was impossible to tovel it in a standard mikvah. So it was decided by the kashrus agency to take it to the harbor. Using a cable attached to the equipment, they would dip the monstrosity into the bay. A problem occurred, however, and the equipment fell into the bay and sank to the bottom. It had to be retrieved by divers, who hooked it back up to the cables and lifted it back to dry land.
Dancing Yekkes
When Rabbi Shimon Schwab came to Baltimore from Germany in the 1930s to serve as the Rav of Shearith Israel, he was shocked that the shul allowed mixed dances. One was actually scheduled for motzei Yom Kippur. From the pulpit he admonished the shul and insisted that it had to stop immediately. There would no longer be social dancing in the shul. He was successful in halting that practice at Shearith Israel, but some upset members moved the dance to another shul. A year later, Rabbi Elchonan Wasserman, zt”l, came to visit Baltimore and stayed at the Schwab home. Once he became aware of the dancing situation, he drew up a kol koreh, which he made every Orthodox rabbi sign, preventing social dancing in any frum shul in Baltimore.
Another story about Rabbi Schwab: A bachur who wore a very tiny yarmulke once asked Rabbi Schwab what the proper size should be for a yarmulke. Rabbi Schwab answered, “Well, the yarmulke should be equal to the size of your brain.”
The Long Shabbos Walk!
During the 1940s, it was extremely difficult to find a job here in Baltimore. One newly married individual searched for many months. It was difficult enough to find employment; finding one that didn’t require working on Shabbos was almost impossible. Many started a new job Monday and were let go the following Monday, once they did not appear on Shabbos. Faced with total poverty and hunger, this very desperate individual finally was offered a job where he would have to work on Shabbos. The job was located in Glyndon, Maryland, a good 12 to15 miles from his home. Every Shabbos morning, around 4 a.m., the fellow set out for a long walk. You see he had to work on Shabbos so as not to starve, but he thought he had no right to ride to the job, and this was his way of being a shomer Shabbos.
The Not So Funny Comedian
Alan King was a very popular Jewish comedian playing the Borsht Belt and even Vegas hotels in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Back in the very early 60s, he was booked as the entertainer for the annual Bais Yaakov banquet, which took place at the Baltimore Civic Center. I was a teenager and accompanied my sister and parents to the upscale banquet. It was very exciting, as this was something really new: a night of comical entertainment by a comedian of international fame. The banquet committee made it very clear that the show had to be totally appropriate, and the material the comedian would use had to be tasteful, beyond any reproach religiously, and appropriate for a frum audience.
The show was clean, but all of a sudden Mr. King began an entire series of jokes about wigs. Although not many women in the crowd wore sheitels at that time, the ones who did left the hall in a hurry. Bais Yaakov never had another comedian!
Fish or Meat!
The Talmudical Academy had a wonderful lunch program in the 60s and 70s. The favorite was Thursdays, when Mrs. Strauss, a European woman and really great cook, made the boys crispy fried fish. We all loved that weekly lunch. It was served with hot corn niblets and string beans as sides. Tuesdays we had spaghetti and tomato sauce. Fridays there were assorted sandwiches. You had a choice of grilled cheese, peanut butter and jelly, lettuce and tomato, tuna, and egg salad. Soups were served Fridays, as well, including tomato, vegetable, and noodle. On Rosh Chodesh we had hot dogs as a special treat to celebrate the chag. One Rosh Chodesh, they served a new delicacy, “tunies,” a hot doglooking sausage that was totally parve, made from tuna.
The eager boys downed the new delicacy, and within minutes, everyone got sick – and I mean really sick. The school practically closed that day, as boy after boy headed home with one big tummy ache. Every Rosh Chodesh after that, we were back to Baltimore-produced European Kosher all-beef hot dogs.
The Cleveland Snow Storm
A Bnos group left Batimore for a Bnos Shabbos convention weekend in Cleveland. There were 42 Bais Yaakov high school young ladies visiting Cleveland, chaperoned by my mother. After a wonderful Shabbos in Cleveland, it began to snow heavily. The school officials were consulted, and they determined that the girls should leave Cleveland early Sunday afternoon so as not to risk getting snowed-in in Cleveland. The much-delayed bus would arrive in Baltimore in the wee hours of the night, well after midnight.
We lived in a small row house on Jonquil Avenue, and we had just got brand new carpeting throughout the home. Three hours before arriving in Baltimore, my mom made a decision: Due to the 2 a.m. expected arrival, she would take all 42 Bnos girls to our home to sleep that night, and their parents would pick them up in the morning. She called my father to inform him that all 42 girls would be overnight guests late that night. (By the way, the home had one bathroom.)
Upon arrival, blankets and towels were spread all over the living room and dining room, and all the girls slept on the floor. They were instructed to remove their shoes so as not to soil the new carpet, and I remember 42 pairs of shoes on the front porch that night. I also remember making up numbers for the “bathroom lottery” to determine the order each student could use the facility the next morning. By 10 a.m., the place was totally back in order, and you would have never known what went on the night before.
Blue Plymouth Dart
In the 60s and early 70s, a local Plymouth car dealer, owned by the Penn family, must have had a special deal on the navy blue Plymouth Dart models. Many Ner Israel rebbes and students were driving that car. You mamash needed a GPS just to find your car in the parking lot, because everyone had the same model and color. Just imagine a Ner Israel banquet when the MC announced, “Will the owner of the blue Plymouth Dart please note: You left the head lights on.” All of a sudden, the entire hall would empty out.
The Green Raincoat
I cannot verify this happened in Baltimore – but it could have! A new baal teshuva was visiting some mourners whose shiva took place at a shul hall. The family was observing their shiva there, as they lived out of town He noticed all the visitors saying a certain prayer in front of the mourners right before leaving. He was extremely concerned, because he was not acquainted with the passage he should say upon leaving, and he didn’t know what to do. His friend told him not to worry: “Just stand in front of the persons sitting shiva. Behind them will be a sign; just read the sign.” So the fellow slowly approached the persons sitting down low, glanced at the sign on the wall, and uttered, “Will the person who took my green raincoat...”
The Mashgiach
Ner Israel Yeshiva on Garrison Boulevard, was famous for many wonderful colorful stories. One is told that I have heard many times but not verified totally has to do with Rabbi Dovid Kronglas, zt”l, the revered great talmid chacham and masmid from the Mir Yeshiva in Shanghai and, later, the mashgiach of the Ner Yisrael Yeshiva for many years. He gave many a wonderful mussar shmoozen to all his talmidim, and he was a model of Torah and yiras Shamayim for all to emulate.
Rabbi Kronglas was very much loved, respected, and feared by all the talmidim. He was short in stature but a true gadol in Torah. He was makpid that his talmidim should be on time for Shacharis each morning. On occasion, the Mashgiach would go to the dorm to check which boys didn’t make it to davening that morning. As he walked toward the building one morning, a very excited bachur began to run through the halls screaming “Reb Dovid is coming, Reb Dovid is coming” to warn all that the Mashgiach was making his rounds. As he ran down the hall yelling at the top of his lungs and totally out of breath, he turned a corner and came face to face with Reb Dovid! Reb Dovid sternly stared him in the face, and then smiled and, in his European accent, said “So who do you think you are....Paul Revere?”
Loyola College Days
I attended Ner Israel Yeshiva from 1968 to 1971. At the same time, I, along with and other Ner Israel boys, attended the Catholic Loyola College. In those days, our Yeshiva studies only counted for 15 college credits. I would need over 105 additional credits to get a degree.
My first interview, with the Dean of Students, a priest, was quite memorable. I came wearing my yarmulke, and as the priest studied my transcript, he told me, “Young man, we are going to get along real well…. So, why have you decided to pursue a business degree?” They did not have a real business curriculum at that time for undergraduates, but accounting and economics courses were offered as an excellent undergraduate program. I said, “Father, I understand fully....You see, Jesus saves, but Moses invests.” Most people to whom I told the story gasped at my remarks, but I think the Dean liked what I said. I graduated summa cum laude and won the Business Administration Award upon my graduation three years later. By the way, the Lord’s Prayer was recited at the beginning of each class. I was instructed by my rebbeim not to sit down before the class began, so when they said “please rise,” I was already standing.
A Terrible Car Accident
I remember being called to Shearith Israel one Sunday before Mincha to recite tehilim. A terrible car accident involving five former TA boys who were now YU students happened somewhere on the New Jersey Turnpike. Marc Lustman, in particular, was severely injured. He had been thrown from the vehicle as it flew off the road and down an embankment. The others – Steve Storch, Steve Bailey, David Liebowitz, a”h, and Stanley Katz – were badly shaken up. The vehicle flipped a few times, and when it came to rest, the boys rushed to their injured classmate Marc, fearing the worst. As they began to think that the accident had perhaps taken his life, chas veshalom, a man came running down the embankment. He had been right behind their vehicle in his own car and saw the entire accident. He was an EMT, and began to work on the injured Marc Lustman. Chasdei Hashem, he got a pulse and began to get him to breathe. Soon he was rushed to a nearby hospital, where it was touch-and-go for a few days. But, b”H, all ended well, with many tefilos and tehilim.
Kiruv – by Whom!?
Remembering Loyola reminds me of a wonderful story told by a former talmid of the Yeshiva.
A young Jewish fellow attended a fancy Catholic prep school in the Los Angeles area. His parents were non-observant fine Jewish people who valued the best in secular education and thought that this school was an excellent educational institution, just perfect for their son. The dean, a priest and excellent educator, was very close to all the students and took a real interest in their educational abilities. The priest was impressed with this bright Jewish student and his very inquisitive questions and opinions, especially those of a religious nature. For the most part the boy kept his Judaism to himself, but his Jewishness would sometime come out in his actions and words.
The priest called the boy to his office one day and said, “Young man, you are a very bright young fellow. Have you ever studied and learned the teachings of your own religion? Have you looked into your religious traditions and wonderful Jewish history?” The young man was truthful and told the priest he really did not know a great deal about his culture or his people.
From behind his desk, the priest took out a Jewish book from his bookcase and instructed his student to read the text and learn something about his heritage. From that day on, the priest would order a different book or sefer from a Jewish bookstore around every Jewish holiday. Meanwhile, the student graduated from this Catholic school, and the priest was becoming prominent in the Church hierarchy. The Jewish fellow went on to college in the New York area, and the priest became a bishop wearing the traditional robes of his very prestigious position.
The book and sefer at every Yom Tov continued as the young Jewish collegiate continued his education. But his dean, now a bishop, made the effort to stay in touch. It was the custom of the dean to go to New York each year and celebrate a reunion with his former students, many of whom studied in New York and the surrounding areas. For the class reunion of our Jewish college student, the dean sent a letter to all his former students. It announced that the class reunion would take place at Lou J. Siegel’s, a famous kosher restaurant in New York.
The many Ivy League college men from this class could not understand how in the world the dean picked this obscure restaurant. New York had Peter Luger’s Steak House, Trader Vic’s, and many of the finest restaurants in the world. Why Lou J. Siegel’s? When questioned, the dean explained there were two Jewish boys in that class, and that’s where the party needed to be. The dean was not sure if either boy kept kosher, but he felt it was the right thing to do. The reunion took place, and all enjoyed Lou J. Siegel’s.
All this time, the Jewish student kept reading the books the dean would send him. After a while, the books had an impact on his thinking, and he began to take an interest in his heritage. He had somehow heard about or read something written by a Rabbi Mordechei Gifter in a Cleveland yeshiva called Telshe. He wrote to Rabbi Gifter: “I will be on my way to the West coast, but I would like to stop in Cleveland and meet the Rabbi.”
Rabbi Gifter agreed to the visit. One day, this young fellow walked in to the bais medrash at Telshe and asked to see Rabbi Gifter. Rabbi Gifter warmly greeted him, and I believe he talked the young fellow into spending a Shabbos with his family at Telshe. Soon after that experience, the young man wanted to further explore the yeshiva world, and decided he’d love to learn in a yeshiva. Rabbi Gifter phoned his good friend Rabbi Herman Neuberger at Ner Israel and pleaded with him to admit this fellow. He had almost no Torah background except for his books from his dean, but Rabbi Gifter was convinced this fellow had a real chance of making it in the Torah world. On Rabbi Gifter’s recommendation, a reluctant but sympathetic Rabbi Neuberger took the chance. After his college education, the student came to Ner Israel and started in a lower yeshiva class; he rose slowly, eventually became an excellent talmid, and was mainstreamed into the Yeshiva.
He grew in learning and became a real masmid and became a very fine yeshiva bachur. Eventually, he got a really wonderful shidduch from an outstanding mishpacha. His learning led him into a career of rabbanus and the outstanding kiruv work he masterfully undertakes today. At his wedding, Rabbi Herman Neuberger and the Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Yaakov Weinberg, zt”l, who had only moments before been the mesader kiddushin. sat proudly as the chassan and kalla stood under the chupa. What a huge and marvelous success!
Oh, and by the way, guess who sat in between the Rosh Yeshiva and Rabbi Neuberger. Yes, you guessed it: the priest dean, now a bishop, in his full religious attire. He, too, beamed; he was so very, very proud. With a huge smile, he turned to Rabbi Neuberger and to the Rosh Yeshiva and declared, “Gentlemen, you know how he got here.... He’s Orthodox now because of me!” Amazing!
Art: Kosher or Treif?
Visiting San Francisco and walking through the winding streets, we came to an art shop selling the works of the famous American painter Thomas Kinkade. We gazed through the window and were impressed with the beauty of his outstanding art. We loved his realistic style, vivid colors, and fantastic light and shadows that he so beautifully transferred to canvas. We found a beautiful painting: a colorful garden scene with a beautiful mansion all lit up and both I and my wife loved it. It would really look great in our home, we thought, and after much consideration, we made the rather expensive purchase. The painting was shipped to Baltimore, where we proudly hung it in our music room as a major focal point.
I began to read about Thomas Kinkade and research his life story and painting career. I read an actual history of the numbered limited edition print we had bought and learned that, hidden throughout the picture, were Christian crosses. We took out our magnifying glass and studied the painting; after careful inspection, we located at least 12 of the religious symbols.
I immediately called San Francisco and explained we had a real issue, that we had had no way of knowing that these hidden crosses were present. The store manager told me he understood fully and it was no problem. There was a Kinkade gallery right here in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, and I could return the painting there for a full refund – not only a full refund but they would even refund the shipping. We were so impressed that their generous offer that we felt if we could find another, non-religious painting, we should make another purchase. We returned that particular painting and, really loving the Kinkade style, spent time going through all the art on display at the Baltimore gallery. We found another, very similar, painting and learned that the painter had hidden his wife’s initials throughout the painting. We had no objection to his wife’s initials, so we decided to make the new purchase.
Once home, we proudly hung our new “kosher” Kinkade. That night we shined a ceiling beam spot light on the painting, and to our alarm, a window pane stood out. We carefully studied the painting and were not sure if the window pane was in fact a cross. I immediately called our Rav who came over right away. After studying the painting very carefully with a magnifying glass, he gave it a complete hechsher.
She Made a Siyum Hashas
Rabbi Naftali Neuberger was at many a siyum Hashas celebrations. One such siyum was rather unusual, to say the least. This was not a siyum of one of his talmidim. Rather, Rabbi Neuberger was friendly with the Shimoff family, and Mrs. Sandy Shimmoff, a”h, was making a private family siyum. After many years, she completed Shas by studying with her husband Elliot, a”h, as well as learning on her own. The siyum was not an expression of women’s liberation but was a simcha celebrating her accomplishment of completing Shas and learning of Torah lishma.
The Baltimore Plague
One of the 10 plagues that Hashem brought on Mitzraim was arbeh, locusts. If you have been in Baltimore for only a few years, you may not know what happens here every 17 years. Every 17 years, in the spring, Baltimore is covered for weeks with – you got it –locusts. They are not real locusts, of course. Called cicadas, they are not even related. If you were here in 2004, you will remember the winged, orangeeyed critters flying through the air and covering sidewalks, grass, cars, and trees. While many panicked at the sight, and cicadas flying into cars even caused a few accidents, the insects are absolutely harmless. They do not sting or bite. They do eat foliage and can cause tree and plant damage. They also make a loud chirping noise; thousands of them in chorus can cause a deafening noise.
You will find the greatest concentration of locusts emerging, all within a few days, in areas dense with trees or old neighborhoods where the earth has not been disturbed. This nes (miracle) and the exact timing of the 17 year cycle is a Baltimore phenomenon. Other states have cicadas, but here in Baltimore, we get a generous outbreak. Apparently, there are two “broods” of cicadas. The eggs of Brood X, the one from 2004, will return in 2021. This year’s expected brood last visited us in 1996, and is called Brood II. The cicadas crawl out of the earth in a shell with feet, and they actually climb trees while still in the shell. After a few days, the shell splits on top, and the winged cicadas emerge. They mate and lay eggs on the tree branches. These eggs fall to the ground and somehow burrow into the earth, and thus starts the next gestation period of 17 years. Look for this fascinating phenomenon of nature soon.
Ahavas Yisrael Charity Fund
The Rabbi Chaim Nachman Kowalsky Memorial Ahavas Yisrael Charity Fund was started by Rabbi Elozer Isbee, a”h, and, ybl”c, Rabbi Boruch Brull over 34 years ago. In its second year of operation, the two founders asked me to join them in administering this tzedaka. I vividly remember a $15,000 dollar budget. Today, Ahavas Yisrael’s budget isf $1.8 million.
After joining them in this wonderful project, I had a meeting with Rabbi Herman Neuberger, zt”l, with whom I often would meet for his incredible advice and counsel. Rabbi Neuberger encouraged me to help build this tzedaka and promised me we would be matzliach, as we were an all-volunteer group. He also advised me to draft a letter to the Weinberg Foundation of Baltimore to ask for needed funding. I remember his advice clearly: Draft a short, one-page letter explaining the organization’s purpose and mission, which is to help the poor with basic needs. Tell them the group is all volunteer and no one is paid a salary. Finally he told me to hand deliver the letter to their office, as Harry Weinberg, of blessed memory, the billionaire who set up the foundation would not like one to waste money on Fed-Ex or other fancy delivery costs.
By this time, we had grown to a budget of $50,000. I drew up the letter and drove to the apartment house, not far from the Johns Hopkins college campus. The foundation’s office was located on the top floor of a huge apartment building Harry Weinberg owned. I parked across the street, entered the building, and gave the letter to a male receptionist, telling him it was for the Weinberg Foundation. He immediately called upstairs and announced that a young fellow was leaving an envelope at the front desk. Upstairs in the office were three gentlemen. The three trustees were Willy Weinberg and Nathan Weinberg, both brothers of Harry, and the accountant trustee, Bernie Siegel. Whoever answered the phone told the receptionist to have the young fellow come up and present his letter. So up the elevator I went, letter in hand, and without having an appointment and not knowing any of these gentlemen, I entered the office. All three gave me a very friendly welcome. We sat around a kitchen table, and they served me soda and some cookies. They kept telling me the cookies were kosher. They read my letter and we shmoozed for about half an hour. They asked lots of questions about the charity and how we operated.
I left the building feeling good about the encounter and especially appreciated the friendly welcome. About a week later, an envelope arrived at the Isbee home with a $10,000 check from the Foundation. They applauded our work and were happy to contribute to the cause. They loved that we were all volunteer and operated on a low overhead and that our mission was similar to theirs. Rabbi Neuberger was right: They liked the hand delivery and that action created the opportunity for a memorable meeting. Thus began a wonderful relationship with the Foundation. Both Ahavas Yisrael and the Weinberg Foundation have grown considerably over these many years. The Foundation has contributed many hundreds of thousands of charitable monies to this tzedaka over the many years since that original encounter.
Emergency Averted
In the 35 years I have worked with Ahavas Yisrael, there was one time, right after Purim, that our funds were totally depleted. We had an emergency meeting, and some of the trustees offered to lend us funds to be able to make a Pesach distribution to aniyim. With Rabbanim in attendance, they asked me to immediately launch an emergency campaign to raise money to fund the upcoming Yom Tov needs. It was very upsetting to have such a lack of funds, and I was very upset that the next morning I would have to alert the community of such an emergency campaign. In the morning, after shul, the phone rang. Irv Fishbein, a Baltimore attorney, was on the phone. “Eli, a client of mine passed away and bequeathed your charity $40,000. When can you pick up a check?” I couldn’t believe my ears; I cancelled the emergency campaign and was at his office within minutes. The amount was exactly what we needed to fund that year’s Pesach campaign.
Torah from Theresienstadt
Every Shabbos Mincha at Congregation Ohr Simcha, on Fallstaff Road, a tiny sefer Torah that weighs perhaps two pounds is used to lain. The tiny sefer Torah is one of the smallest kosher Torahs in the world. We do not know its exact history, but we do know it was hidden and lained from in the Theresienstadt camp during the Second World War. The very precious Torah is owned by David and Hindy Wolf and is on loan to the shul.
On a Yom Tov or Shabbos that require a second sefer, this miniature sefer is used during the morning davening. About two years ago, a fellow came into shul in a wheelchair. He was crippled and unable to walk. The gabbai approached him and said, “You’ll take hagbah (lifting the Torah on high).” The young fellow was puzzled and answered, “Oh, that’s impossible. I am unable to take hagbah because I am wheelchair bound.” The gabbai looked him in the eye and with confidence assured the young fellow that all would be fine. When the Torah came out of the aron the fellow understood. It was the first time in his life that he had the kibud hagba. With a tear in his eye and a beaming, proud smile, he hoisted the Torah above his head. Those around him spun the wheelchair round and round, and everyone shared in the simcha of that very special moment.â—†
