We certainly look different as we sit in the Rebbe’s dining room. He’s the chashuva Rebbe of Arugas Habosem, and looks the part, with his bekeshe and long beard. I, on the other hand, am wearing my usual tie-less shirt and casual tan slacks. Yet we are sitting together at his dining room tisch, along with his wonderful Rebbetzin, discussing his mother’s upcoming 50th yahrzeit.

Back in 1963, Reb Shaya and I loved to ride our bikes all over the Park Heights neighborhood where we both lived. Both our families were refugees, resettled in Baltimore. But we were different in many ways. He attended the Yiddish-speaking Shearis Hapleita (now TI), a chassidishe cheder, and came to TA with his class in the afternoon for English studies. I went to TA. He was from a Hungarian Satmar family, and I was from a Yekkishe German background. But for the last 50 years, Reb Shaya and I have stayed close, cherishing the old bike-riding days when we were classmates and very good friends.