Rabbi Eliyahu Krieger was my menahel in high school. Born in Berlin to an Eastern European family, he arrived in the United States when he was young and studied in Yeshiva Torah Vadaas under Rav Shraga Feivel Mendelovitz, who single-handedly created Torah chinuch (education) in the United States. Rav Shraga Feivel created Torah Umesorah, whose mandate was to build Torah day schools in every small Jewish community in the United States. To accomplish this, he rallied gedolei Yisrael from across the spectrum to support Torah Umesorah’s activities and programs. Yet this was a sidebar to his official endeavors, which were to build Yeshiva Torah Vadaas in Brooklyn, Kollel Beis Elyon in Monsey, and various programs to train Torah teachers. He created the yeshiva settings whereby Rav Shlomo Heiman, Rav Reuven Grozovsky, Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky, and many others were able to influence the American Torah scene, and he was also instrumental in the building of several other yeshivos in America.

Returning to Rabbi Krieger, whereas most of his contemporaries who arrived on the American shores as refugees from the Nazis were eager to start businesses or pursue professions, Rabbi Krieger was interested in studying in yeshiva and became a disciple of Rav Shraga Feivel. This meant that he became committed to chinuch, as did the most of Rav Shraga Feivel’s talmidim. As happened to many, he also became the de facto “rabbi of his family,” since he was the first one to receive a yeshiva education and develop that perspective on life.

As soon as I got my driver’s license at 18, I drove to my friend Ruthie’s house to celebrate. But as I was parallel parking, a skill I had just learned to pass my driver’s test, I hit a car. “I’m not getting back in there,” I told my friend’s mother.

“Oh, yes you are,” she said, and the owner of the car I hit agreed. Through their kindness, I got back into the car, and, b”H, I’ve been driving ever since, even teaching my children how to drive when they were teenagers. Still, through the years, I’ve avoided parallel parking and mostly park my 2012 Camry at the curb in front of our house or between the white lines in parking lots. Now that I’m a senior (not a high school one, of course) my new problem is maneuvering my car between the white lines in those parking spaces.

When I settled in Baltimore in 1979, it was understood that “learning in kollel” meant the kollel of Ner Yisrael, established just 20 years prior. Today, 250-plus kollel fellows learn at Kollel Avodas Levi (subsequently named in memory of Rosh Hayeshiva Rav Yitzchak Ruderman, zt”l) in one of the five to seven chaburos (learning groups, see sidebar), with guidance from its Rosh Kollel, Harav Ezra Neuberger. Yet, dozens more men are learning in other local kollels, which seem to have sprung up overnight. Here are just some of them.

Kollel Nachlas Yosef

“There’s a real energy in the beis medrash, and everyone is shtieging,” says Rabbi Aron Tendler, rosh kollel of Kollel Nachlas Yosef. Named in memory of Rabbi Yosef Tendler, zt”l, longtime menahel of Ner Israel’s high school, the kollel was founded to ensure that young men entering the workforce or who are in school have a place to learn with the same intensity and enthusiasm they experienced during their yeshiva years. It is open to those who want to learn long term, short term, or even one seder (session, see sidebar) a day.

The kollel, under the guidance of seder rosh chabura, Rav Shimon Greenwald, started with 12 yungerleit (young married men); another seven, who are learning in Eretz Yisrael, joined for the month of Elul. To create an environment of intense and enthusiastic learning, the kollel yungerleit learn in one chabura (learning group) in one beis medrash, where they can take advantage of the great group dynamic and enjoy the ru’ach haTorah (the atmosphere of Torah) that comes from such an experience.

Morning and afternoon sedarim at Kollel Nachlas Yosef are held in its beis medrash on Smith Ave. For night seder, the kollel joins the many bnei Torah learning in Derech Chaim (Rav Pinchas Gross’ new shul). “Indeed, it is a wonderful testament to the amazing people of our kehilla that so much Torah is being supported throughout our community. And it is inspiring to see how many people come to learn after a long day at work,” says Rabbi Tendler.

?I like the American holiday of Thanksgiving which was just celebrated. Unfortunately, these days, instead of giving thanks to G-d and showing gratitude to others, many Americans think that Thanksgiving is simply a time to shop for bargains.

Giving thanks and showing appreciation are core Jewish values. The Modim prayer of thanksgiving is recited daily in our Shmoneh Esrei/Amidah. As Chanukah approaches, we Jews are reminded to be thankful for the miracles that Hashem performed for our ancestors. Our survival then, as now, has always relied upon miracles. In recent times, though, both of these holidays have become more about getting than giving. It seems that we need to be reminded to give with an open hand, to appreciate, and to be thankful, because our spiritual health and wellbeing require it.

We made aliyah two-and-a-half years ago. As calendar coincidences work, Israel has been at war for exactly half of the time we have lived here. So, what have we learned in the past 15 and 30 months?

First, I should have paid much closer attention to Mr. Pernikoff, z”l, at the Talmudical Academy, and maybe I would not be having as much trouble with conjugating verbs and keeping adjective genders aligned. For those under 55, or maybe even 60, Mr. Pernikoff taught Hebrew language in seventh, eighth, and ninth grades for many years, and he stressed verb and gender issues. But like most teenagers, I only studied for the tests – and not for “hey-you’re-really-going-to-want-to-know-this-in-50 years.”

Mazal tov on your new baby! As you lie in bed, dreamily examining her tiny features, you feel so grateful for this moment. You have been planning for the birth of your baby for at least nine months, maybe years – maybe your whole life! You took prenatal vitamins, got ultrasounds, took a prenatal yoga class, and listened to your OB provider’s advice on how to stay healthy and ensure the best outcome for your pregnancy and baby. You took childbirth classes and infant care classes and nursing classes. You researched your provider. You hired a doula. You have a whole shopping list of a stroller, car seat, bassinet, swaddlers, and more, all waiting in your online shopping cart.

And now it’s over. Your baby is here. What’s next?

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As I was walking down to Hebron this morning, my elderly friend Zechariah Nahari reminded me that yesterday was the end of shiva for Shalom Nagar, an 86-year-old Kiryat Arba resident. Zechariah, as a fellow Yemenite and family friend, was at the ceremonial meal held (by non-Ashkenazim) on the seventh day.

Shalom, a”h, had two claims to fame as far as I am concerned. First, he was the policeman who, in 1962, at age 26, hanged Adolph Eichmann, Hitler’s architect of the Holocaust. Chosen by lottery from among 22 policemen, and the only one of the 22 who did not want to do it, he pushed the button that caused the trapdoor to fall away, leading to Eichmann’s death. When you google pictures of Eichmann in his glass cage at his trial, the policeman on the left with the mustache is Shalom Nagar. This was the only case of capital punishment in Israel’s history as a modern state.

Second, he was the uncle of Rabbi Uzzi Nagar, who has been teaching us Daf Yomi for 14 years in Me’arat HaMachpeila.

Shalom, the uncle, born in Yemen in 1936, arrived in Israel as an orphan at age 12, served in the paratroopers, and then joined the prison service. For many years, he was irreligious, but as he advanced in the prison services and became head of Ramla Prison, he returned to his faith. Throughout his 25 years of retirement, he studied in one of Kiryat Arba’s many kollels. If you google Shalom Nagar, you will see a man in his eighties with a beard and peyos.

When Rabbi Uzi Nagar, the nephew, completed high school, he went straight into the air force for three years, and then he obtained a BA in engineering from the Technion, Israel’s MIT. As a student in the Technion, he met his wife Michal, and together they decided to devote their lives to Torah. Rav Nagar studied in an Ashkenazi Kollel in Jerusalem for seven years and then became a Torah educator. When I began Daf Yomi, Rav Nagar had already been teaching Daf Yomi for five years, so he is now approaching the end of his third teaching cycle.

Sadly, as time goes by and I think back to the people who played a role in my life, I don’t know if I really appreciated all of them. This article is a way to show hakaras hatov to someone who was significant in my early years.

In the 1960s, ehen I came up north from Montgomery, Alabama, for yeshiva, I learned, for the first time, that a large share of my fellow students were children of Holocaust survivors. Indeed, the renaissance of Orthodox Jewry is, to a very great extent, due to the impact of those survivors.

In the town where I grew up, there were hardly any Holocaust survivors. I recall Eric Knurr, who came from Germany. He was actually a relative of the Kranzlers of Baltimore. Mrs. Kranzler, a”h, told me he was a physician in Germany and came from a distinguished family. But aside from knowing his two children, Werner and Evelyn, I do not recall him being active in the shul, due to his owning a small grocery store. There may have been one or two other people who came because of the war, but I do not recall them.

I don’t have much experience with going to camp, and whatever experience I have is from a very long time ago. My parents sent me to an overnight camp when I was nine years old in hopes I would learn not to be shy. At least, that is what my parents told me when I asked them why they sent me at such a young age. I don’t remember much about camp, but I don’t think I liked it very much.

To learn more about camps, I had to ask others who had more positive experiences. It was a privilege to speak to my sister’s husband, Rabbi Yitzchok Schwarz, who has been the head counselor of Camp Kol Torah in Cleveland for almost 50 years – ever since before he and my sister were married. Their children are born and bred campers. I asked Rabbi Schwarz how campers have changed over the years. “When I was a camper, I used to come to an activity 10 minutes early in anticipation,” says Rabbi Schwarz. “Today, the boys are much more distracted. Many of them have devices to listen to music and lots and lots of nosh. The boys are not so eager for activities because they have other interests.” It seems that kids in camp have changed just like the rest of society.