Thank You,
Hashem, for giving us Abba. HaRav Yonasan Binyomin HaLevi Jungreis, zt”l, was an extraordinary individual
and most beloved father. Besides being a tremendous talmid chacham, he took a sincere and loving interest in every
person he interacted with. Our Abba took great pride in his heritage and strove
to instill in his children the special middos
of his illustrious ancestors, the generations of Jungreis rabbanim. Abba was a direct descendant of the renowned miracle
worker, the Menuchas Osher, HaRav Asher Anshel Halevi Jungreisz.
Our
father was born in Szeged, Hungary, the second to largest city in Hungary,
where his father was the Chief Rabbi. HaRav Avraham (our Zeida) and Rebbetzin
Miriam (known lovingly by all as “Mama”) opened their home and hosted rabbanim and refugees with mesiras nefesh as they journeyed from
one city to another in the pre-war Holocaust era. Unfortunately, the glorious
Hungarian Jungreis dynasty came to an end when the Nazis, ys”v, murdered most of the family.
Although
Abba was a small boy during the Holocaust, he had vivid memories. He remembered
the night they were deported to Bergen Belsen concentration camp, in June, 1944.
The Nazis barged into their house, screaming at them to pack a few belongings
as they would be going to the cattle cars in a few hours. He recounted his
harrowing experiences in Bergen Belsen. He remembered how scared he was to go
to the bathroom in the middle of the night as the Nazis let out the German shepherd
dogs to hunt any Jews walking around the camp. Mama would accompany him as they
crawled through the fields to the outhouse.
One
Friday night, as Zeida sang “Shalom Aleichem,” our father cried, “Where are the
angels? I do not see the angels.” With a trembling voice, Zeida answered him,
“You, my precious children, are the angels.”
With
siyata d’Shmaya and the help of HaRav Avraham’s sister Elza, Abba, his
parents, and his siblings, Yanky (Rabbi Yaakov Jungreis) and Esther (Rebbetzin
Esther Jungreis, a”h) were granted passage on the Kastner transport. For two years,
the Jungreis family remained in a Switzerland displaced persons camp. In 1947,
they arrived in America and settled in the East Flatbush section of Brooklyn.
Our
father attended Rabbeinu Chaim Berlin high school. Abba was brilliant and
proficient in all subjects. He had a “gemara-head” and took great joy in
learning day and night. Immediately, Mama and Zeida encouraged their children
to become involved in B’nei Akiva, an organization that symbolized hope and
renewal for the Jewish nation. Abba went to Camp Moshava where he was known for
his leadership and friendliness. He excelled in music, sports, and drama. He
then went on to be a most efficient and popular program director in the Pioneer
Hotel in the Catskills. As a teenager, our father accepted a shteller in McKeesport, Pennsylvania,
where he davened for the Amud, blew
shofar, and spoke to the congregants for the Yomim Noraim.
Abba
learned in Ponevezh Yeshiva in Eretz Yisrael in the late 1950s. It was very
uncommon for a child Holocaust survivor to embark on a two-week boat ride
across the world, knowing that he’d barely have any communication with his
parents for an entire year. The separation post-war was very traumatic, but Abba’s
parents and rebbeim recognized his potential and believed this was best for
him.
He
went on to learn in Yeshiva University, where he was a talmid muvhak of HaRav
Dovid Lifshitz, the Suvhalker Rav. Rav Lifshitz was impressed with Abba’s hasmada, warmth, and likeability. Abba
received semicha from HaRav Lifshitz
and from his grandfather, HaRav Tzvi Hersh Kohen. In 1967, he married our
mother, Goldie Rauzman, the daughter of Reb Yehuda Tzvi and Raizy Rauzman. They
moved to the Canarsie section of Brooklyn. Abba was appointed rabbi of the
Glory of Israel Synagogue in East New York. He would walk five miles to and
from shul every Friday night and Shabbos day. In 1969, Abba opened his own shul
in Canarsie, called Yeshiva Ateres Yisroel, and remained as the beloved rabbi
until our parents’ move to Flatbush in 2001. Abba greeted the religious and the
non-religious congregants in the same most welcoming and loving manner and was
influential in sparking their Yiddishe neshamas.
As
children, we played a big role in the shul. We would help prepare the seating
plans for the Yomim Nora’im and labeled the seats. We also handed out the
Yizkor cards to those who needed them. Whether it was assisting someone to find
the right place in the siddur or
lining up the Chumashim on the shelves, our father ensured that we were
actively involved in the happenings and services of our shul.
Abba
was a most doting and loving father. From the time we were babies, he told us
stories. The first story he told us in Yiddish, in a sing-song lullaby, was
that of our leader, Moshe Rabbeinu. He would sit on the edge of our beds and tell
us stories of Rashi HaKadosh, the Menuchas Asher, our grandparents, and other
ancestors.
Every
morning, we would wake up to the sounds of Torah with Abba learning while
swaying back and forth. He took great pride in using his father’s and
grandfather’s nusach when davening
for the Amud during the Yomim Nora’im.
When we came home from school in September, we would hear the melodious songs
of Yossele Rosenblatt on the cassette recorder, which he also incorporated into
his davening.
Abba
was very affectionate with his children, attaching attached terms of endearment
to our names, like “mein tyereh sheifeleh (my dear little sheep).” When we left our house, Abba
would lovingly kiss us on each cheek and then give us an additional kiss on our
foreheads “for good luck.”
When
he was still young, a health condition prevented our father from driving
anymore, so he got in the habit of walking. We loved to accompany our father on
his walks to the grocery store. Strolling hand in hand, he held a tight grip
and always made sure to walk on the side closer to the street as this offered
us better protection from the cars.
Abba
wanted us to succeed in school. It was not unusual for him to put hours of
preparation into our homework. When we had Chumash or Navi questions with
multiple mefarshim, we turned to Abba
for help. He would peruse the Rashis, Sefornos, Rambans, Rambams, and Ohr
Hachaims to get us the optimum answers. Since he wanted us to master the
material as well, he would review it with us until we demonstrated that we
understood.
Abba
amassed a huge collection of sefarim
and took precious care of each one of them. Every sefer had a specific place on his meticulous bookcases. He was
constantly arranging, organizing, dusting, and surveying his massive
collection. They were his treasures, and his kavod for them mirrored his kavod
LaTorah. Abba’s home away from home was Eichler’s sefarim store, where he was like a kid in a candy store.
From
when we were young children, Abba instilled in us a love for Eretz Yisrael. He
would often tell us that when his family left the DP camps in Switzerland, his
parents wanted to immigrate to Israel but went to America because they were
able to secure visas from there. Abba loved to speak Ivrit. He was an expert in dikduk
(grammar) and spoke like an Israeli.
Abba
was worldly and appreciated world history. He was able to differentiate what
was true and what was false in the political climate. He also followed sports
and knew all the scores and stats. He read the newspaper daily and took great
pride in being a patriotic American. As a survivor of the Holocaust, he did not
take the freedom America offered lightly. He lamented the backward spiral America
was taking, and he constantly emphasized the importance of standing up for the
truth.
We
were very close to Mama and Zeida, our grandparents, who lived close by. Our
parents treated Mama and Zeida with utmost reverence. When Abba greeted his
father, he would first kiss him on his palm, then on his cheek. He accorded his
father that same devotion when Zeida was immobile and unresponsive. Abba would
sit by his recliner and tell him divrei
Torah, speak about the grandchildren, or sing one of Zeida’s favorite songs.
Abba
was very close to his grandchildren and took great interest in their daily
lives. When a grandchild was still very young, he would teach them to chant, “Torah tziva lanu Moshe” by having them
repeat each word carefully. He wanted to know who their teachers and rebbeim
were, what they were learning in school, and their hobbies. He remembered what parsha or blatt Gemara each one was
up to and would consistently inquire with them how it was going. He told them
stories of his youth, his days in camp, and his experiences in Israel. What he
enjoyed most was teaching them songs: songs of his youth, songs about Eretz
Yisroel, Yiddish songs, Torah songs, hartzigeh
songs, and patriotic American songs.
When
Abba came to our homes, he would often start the visit by saying that he didn’t
want to “impose.” Having Abba was not an imposition; it was our greatest kavod! Abba’s compliments were
incessant. He praised us to no end about our children (even when they
misbehaved), our clothing, our accommodations, and the food we prepared for
him. He would compliment us on anything and everything, and would often do so in
the presence of the grandchildren, so they could hear just how wonderful their
parents were.
Abba
also made a point of getting to know each family’s neighbors, Rav, and even the
employees in the local supermarket or pizza store. One non-Jewish cashier even
referred to him as “Abba” when she would see him, and when he would ask her how
she was doing, she would answer, “Baruch Hashem.”
Abba
had a soft spot for animals and loved family visits to the zoo. He marveled at
their beauty and taught us that we can learn a lesson from each creature. As
children we observed him feeding the stray cats and petting goats and sheep on
farms. He would also use animals as metaphors in his speeches. For example, he
would teach us to be like a tzvi, a
deer, which peer behind them to ensure that their children are following
behind.
Abba
was a born orator. He transmitted vital lessons to all in his addresses. He had
many trademark speeches, the most popular being about the importance of having
a lev tov, a good heart, which was the
take-away of many of his divrei Torah.
He always taught us that middos tovos are paramount to being a good Jew.
Perhaps
Abba’s greatest pleasure in life was, as he’d say over and over again, “for the
mishpacha to get together.” In
November 2019, our entire mishpacha
got together to celebrate his 80th birthday in our parents’ home. Although
he tried his hardest to hide it, it was apparent that he was not feeling well
that night. Two days later, he suffered a heart attack. The next few months
were very difficult as Abba was transferred between hospitals and rehabs. It
was very distressing for us to see our father’s health so compromised, and yet
we were inspired by his unwavering emunah
and his unusual determination to live.
Our
final communication with Abba was while Face-timing him during the last hour of
his life; pandemic rules prevented us from visiting in person. The last thing
he heard was his precious grandchildren singing songs, including “Uv’chen Tzaddikim Yiru V’yismachu.” Even
though he was intubated, the nurse recounted that, miraculously, our father was
mouthing the words along with his grandchildren, while tapping his foot in
rhythm. Abba’s sha’as petira was
minutes later.
Abba
was niftar on the 5th of
Iyar, 5780. It is not a coincidence that it was Yom HaAtzmaut, Israeli
independence day, a most beloved day for Abba. It is a year since his passing,
and we miss our Abba so much. We look forward to the coming of Mashiach
speedily in our day, when we will be reunited and the mishpacha can be whole once again.
With much love and admiration for
our holy father,
Rochela Zagelbaum, Ari Jungreis,
Chayala Isbee, Layala Salomon, and Boruch Jungreis
