Back in 1979, when I moved to Baltimore, Jack’s Grocery was the “in” place to shop. It was a cozy, quaint, heimishe mom-and-pop grocery store, where everything from the freshest produce and canned goods to appetizing and hot take-out food specialties, all within two aisles. The proprietors, Jack and Rose Boehm, a”h, were hardworking, ehrliche, goodhearted Holocaust survivors from Czechoslovakia who worked their way up in America, despite not knowing a word of English when they arrived.

My sister, Debbie Burnstein, a”h, passed away in December, at the age of 66. Debbie was developmentally challenged and lived in a group home just about her entire life. She was raised in a generation when people didn’t talk about children who had such challenges. They were “put in the closet,” so to speak. But my parents were not like that. Unfortunately, their family and friends did have that mindset, so my parents had it hard. Even our relatives, as wonderful as they were, never called and asked, “How’s Debbie?” or “Where are you putting her?” And my mother was too uncomfortable to tell them that they had to put her in a non-Jewish place.

Chaya Milevsky was born in the Jewish ghetto of Shanghai and moved to Cleveland as a baby, before life took her to Mexico, Israel, Toronto, and ultimately Baltimore. Her husband, Rabbi Dr. Uziel Milevsky, zt”l, a musmach of Ner Israel yeshiva, was the former Chief Rabbi of Mexico and founder/lecturer at Ohr Somayach Toronto. Chaya shared her incredible life story with me.

 My article in the last issue of the Where What When, about a young woman’s experience being hospitalized with COVID, caused some consternation among readers. As a follow-up, and to provide a candid, unrestrained glimpse into hospital life these days, I asked a hospital-employed nurse for an anonymous first-person account of what it is like to take care of a patient load that includes COVID patients.

I felt like I came late to the party. I was exposed to COVID so many times before I was finally diagnosed with it the week of October 11^th. My mom had it and was hospitalized for two weeks. Some of my siblings had it; they waited it out at home and were okay. I wasn’t admitted to the hospital until October 19^th, and my experience was – shall we say, interesting. I learned a lot and am still processing what happened.

I really don’t know where I picked up the virus. I had traveled to the Midwest to spend Yom Tov with my parents, and shortly after I returned to Baltimore, I attended a friend’s wedding – masked, of course. I work in a health care facility, and we had some COVID cases, so it is kind of crazy that it took so long for me to get it. In the building where I live with my roommates, there were people who had Corona, but we didn’t catch it. We were being really careful.

Choosing a career is the most momentous decision (aside from marriage) that young people have to make. While many in our community gravitate to certain common occupations, career paths are not always straightforward. The twists and turns of life – not to mention the bumps and mountainous climbs – often play a role in deciding what we want to be “when we grow up.” The young men depicted here are entrepreneurs. Although they may have not yet arrived at their final career destination, one thing is for sure – these ambitious young men made some unconventional choices. I had the privilege of “virtually meeting” each of these young, single men, whose career callings reminded me of Robert Frost’s poem, “The Road Not Taken.” They each took the road less traveled by, and to them, it has made all the difference.