If your travels to Israel between the 1970s and the early 2000s included a visit to the Kotel, chances are you saw – or at least heard of – the legendary Rabbi Meir Schuster, z”l. He was the tall, lanky, black-hatted bearded fellow in the dark suit, who dedicated himself to frequenting the Kotel, day in and day out, no matter what. A man on a mission, he loved his fellow Jews so much that he wanted to share his enthusiasm for Judaism with them, out of pure compassion. Indeed, he received no monetary compensation for his work.

Arizonan Robin Meyerson jokes that her husband Charles saves bodies while she tries to save souls. He is an electrical engineer who creates pacemakers and other lifesaving medical products. She, the mother of their five children (and a grandmother), is a former corporate marketing whiz and, most recently, a motivational speaker, teacher, and author, who has made raising awareness about Jewish burial her life’s mission. How did she make that drastic leap? Robin shared her inspirational story of Divine Providence when she came to town to be a featured speaker for Project Inspire.

I read between the lines of Becky’s seemingly innocent WhatsApp chat sent shortly after I arrived at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Stamford, Connecticut. It was the first time my fairly recently widowed former grad school roommate was attending the annual Samchainu and Nagilla international Shabbaton for almanos (widows). Knowing her hesitancy (I twisted her arm to attend!), I knew that, “U here yet? I’m in room 4058. You?” was a cry for help.

My suspicion was confirmed when I picked Becky up from her room to go downstairs for the buffet lunch. She confided that she was so overwhelmed by the sadness of seeing so many almanos together that all she wanted to do was stay in her room and read all Shabbos. I took my longtime friend under my wing and was thrilled when she admitted, before parting ways on Sunday, that she was uplifted by the experience and happy she came.

So, what do Baltimoreans Chavi Barenbaum, Esky Cook, Malky Goldstein, Rebbetzin Fredda Hopfer, Rebbetzin Judy Neuberger, and Chaya Zwick have in common?

Why, Rebbetzin Chana Wesel, of course!

The veteran teacher par excellence taught them all at the Bais Yaakov in Williamsburg, in Brooklyn, New York. The adage, “Teachers live forever in the hearts they touch,” is certainly true of Rebbetzin Wesel. And after having the pleasure of meeting and interviewing her, I understand how this beloved and inspirational protégé of Rebbetzin Vichna Kaplan – the founder of the first Bais Yaakov high school and teachers seminary in America – captured the minds and hearts of her students. Indeed, many of her former students – who are scattered around the world – still keep in touch with her over a half-century later.

Here is her story and theirs:

A Close Escape

Rebbetzin Wesel did not start life in America. Born in Vienna, she was only seven years old when her family left. But she clearly remembers the events that foreshadowed their escape.

“It was March, 1938, on Shabbos Parshas Zachor, when Hitler, y”s, marched into Vienna and annexed Austria to Germany,” recalls Rebbetzin Wesel. “We knew then that we had to get out; we were fortunate that we made it out.”

Rebbetzin Wesel explains that the word, “Jude” was painted on all the Jewish-owned stores, and signs were affixed to benches that said Jews were not allowed to sit there. Her mother was afraid for them to use their Jewish names, and her eight-year-old brother was only allowed to wear a cap instead of a yarmulke.

Aryeh Leib Freedman did his “homework” before he spearheaded the formation of Misaskim of Maryland, a full year ago, in memory of his father, Rabbi Mendel (Menachem Mendel Don ben Aryeh Leib) Freedman, z”l, longtime principal of Bais Yaakov of Baltimore. This homework included conferring with Sol Levinson and Bros. as well as with the Chevra Kadisha to gauge the volume of services needed. So Aryeh Leib was surprised by the higher than anticipated numbers of aveilim (mourners) that the eight-member volunteer organization serviced in its first year: over 150 shiva houses and over 350 aveilim (mourners).

“It was a lot more than we expected,” remarks Aryeh Leib. “We had heard there would be about 50 to 60 shiva houses per year. However, because many people sit shiva in Baltimore for levayas (funerals) held out of town, the numbers are much higher.”

The locally-run, independent non-profit 501(c)(3) organization, which is modeled after the New York-based Misaskim, has alleviated the last-minute scrambling by Baltimore aveilim for shiva house items and other needs above what Levinson’s and other organizations already graciously provide for community members. These include: sifrei Torah, each with an aron kodesh; siddurim in nusach Ashkenaz, Sefard, Ari, and Edot Hamizrach; shtenders; a bima for laining; low aveilim chairs and tray tables; a lending library of English and Hebrew sefarim about the halachos of mourning; and Mishnayos charts, among other items. Air conditioners, fans, and heaters are also provided when needed.

When Misaskim first started, Mr. Dovid Davis, stepped up to donate two sifrei Torah for use in shiva houses. As the greater need became apparent, the Tuchman family, Chaim Pollack family, and Gershon Seidel family also lent sifrei Torah to Misaskim. Recently, the Zobdeh and Moeinzadeh families kindly donated a Sefardi sefer Torah for use by Misaskim as well.

It’s always exciting when “one of our own” makes it big. By now, most of us have heard of Judge Rachel (“Ruchie”) Freier, the chasidishe super-woman. So when Rabbi Yisrael Motzen, of Ner Tamid, introduced her last month in a program in memory of longtime congregant Dr. Frank F. Schuster, it made for a fascinating evening.

Rabbi Motzen pointed out how both Judge Freier and Dr. Schuster had successfully persevered to break the status quo with what he called their “holy chutzpa.” Dr. Schuster clung to the unpopular path of Torah in the early 50s, even while facing opposition and hardship in his pursuit of a medical degree at Johns Hopkins. Similarly, Judge Freier overcame many obstacles to arrive at her present position. A “regular” wife and mother in Boro Park, she worked to support her husband’s learning. After he earned his degree in accounting, she, too, went to college and, subsequently, law school. In their shared office, she practiced real estate law, while her husband did commercial financing.