So True

Memoirs of my dad rabbi Goldstein

1

 

To Knock with an Emes

Memoirs of Rabbi Yosef Goldstein

“Uncle Yossi”

EARLY YEARS

In 1930, when I was three years old, my parents decided to leave Providence, Rhode Island, where we were the only religious Jews, and to move to New York in order to be able to live Jewish lives. It wasn’t easy, because that year was the height of the Depression. The economy was in bad shape and the currency was severely devalued. Yet my father sold his business in Providence and moved to N.Y., without knowing how he wouldsupport his family there.

My parents made this decision upon the advice of a number of Admurim who regularly visited our home on their way from N.Y. to Boston, who told my parents that Providence wasn’t a suitable place for frum Jews.

We arrived in N.Y. and settled in Boro Park. In those days there were only two yeshivos in Boro Park. One was a modern Zionist school called Eitz Chayim, and the other was Toras Emes. At first, my father wanted to register my older brothers in Eitz Chayim, but it cost too much, so
they registered in Toras Emes instead. When I grew older, I too went to Toras Emes.

In those days, the yeshivah was run by Rabi Yisroel Jacobson, one of the distinguished Chabad
chassidim in the U.S. All Chabad chassidim in N.Y., like the Posner, Simpson, Rivkin, and other families, sent their childrento this yeshivah. This was the case for about ten years, until 5701 (1941).

That year was very difficult. The administration of the yeshivahcouldn’t pay the teachers on time, and when they finally werepaid it was only 18 dollars a week. When they weren’t paid for a long time, they left. The high rate of turnover made it difficult for me to connect with my
teachers, in addition to the fact that we weren’t on the same wavelength, they being Litvaks, graduates of Mir and Slabodka, while I was all-American.

A TEACHER OF THE PREVIOUS GENERATION
One day the classroom door opened and there stood a new teacher. His name was Rabbi Shmuel
Zalmanov. There was no comparison between him and the previous teachers. He had the appearance of a Jew from a previous generation. He wore a long coat and a black hat, and he had a long, beautiful beard. He had a hadras panim the likes of which I had seen only in history books, and as soon as he walked into the room I stood up in awe. His manner and speech were friendly and gentle, and I could sense how everything was done out of great love. From day to day my attachment and admiration for him grew.

One day during recess I noticed him leaning his head on the table. I didn’t know if he was sleeping or just thinking, but he appeared frail. I went over to him and asked whether he felt all right, and he asked me to fetch him something to drink. I ran and got him a cup of water.

The next day I brought him a thermos of coffee and he thanked me a great deal and told me how I had revived him. From time to time I tried to bring him rolls and other food to sustain him. Our relationship was that of teacher and student, but still it was a wonderful friendship.

One day he disappeared. I took it very hard since I had become so attached to him, and I began to investigate what had happened to him. I discovered that Reb Shmuel was one of the big chassidim of the Rebbe Rayatz, and had been appointed to be secretary in the Rebbe’s yeshivah, Yeshivas Tomchei Tmimim. That’s when I head of Tomchei Tmimim for the first time, and I thought to myself that if this yeshivah was good for my esteemed teacher, then it was certainly good for me!

This resolution, however, remained just a thought, for RebShmuel Zalmanov’s replacement was also a Lubavitcher, RabbiYitzchok Dovber Ushpal, and I became friendly with him too, no less than with my previous teacher. I saw this as Divine providence, that Hashem was sending me angels to raise me out of the mud.

Reb Ushpal’s material circumstances were very poor. He came to class with torn pants and shoes, like a war refugee. He was very mesudar and clean, but in tatters, since he had nothing else.

I visited him and was shocked to see a house that had no furniture. Instead of chairs he had some crates that also served as a table. I spoke with some friends and we got him a mattress, chairs, and a table.

He greatly befriended me. One day he said to me, “Yossel, you’re a good boy and I have a present for you.” It was a volume of maamarim which he began learning with me in his home. This was my first connection with Chabad Chassidus.

Thus, a few happy months went by until he, too, left for Tomchei Tmimim. At that point I said to myself, and why shouldn’t I go, too?

THE FIRST TRIP TO THE REBBE RAYATZ
My parents didn’t agree, of course. In those years, a trip from Boro Park to Crown Heights wasn’t simple. You had to change a few trains, and it wasn’t the thing for a 13-year-old to do every day. And the price was prohibitive, at five cents a ride. It was only after “holy stubbornness” on my part that my parents agreed to let me switch to Tomchei Tmimim, but on condition that I stay in the dormitory so I wouldn’t have to travel every day. (five cents a ride was too much but the dormitory they could afford? Was it free?)

When I left for yeshivah, it was the first time I was traveling by train and I asked how to get to Eastern Parkway. I was told to get off at the Eastern Parkway stop. I left the subway and saw an impressive building. I was thrilled, thinking I was going to attend yeshivah in such a beautiful building. I quickly realized my error, discovering this was the public library. I asked a number of people how to get to 770, and they told me I needed to walk another 10 blocks.

I arrived at 770 and stood in wonder once again. I had expected to see a large shul, yet this was a house! Yes, an ordinary house, like all the houses on the block. Just as I walked into 770 a large celebration was taking place, a raffle for learning Mishnayos by heart. I later learned that the Rebbe Rayatz wanted to purify the air of America by means of saying Mishnayos by heart, and in order to motivate the chassidim they would raffle off mesechtos of Mishnayos in the Rebbe’s presence. (I’M NOT SURE I UNDERSTAND HOW THIS RAFFLE WORKED. THE WINNERS GOT TO SAY THE MISHNAYOS IN FRONT OF THE REBBE?)

The Rebbe Rayatz sat on the dais, the Rebbe (Ramash) on his left, and Rashag on his right. Rabbi Zalmanov, my former teacher, noticed me immdiately and called me over. He introduced me to Reb Eliyahu Simpson, the Rebb Rayatz’s secretary at that time, and I was registered in the yeshivah. I began learning in Reb Ushpal’s class in 770.

I recall the Rebbe Rayatz sitting on his chair on the small porch on the second floor (above where the large sukkah of 770 is) and reviewing Mishnayos.

The Rebbe once said: It’s a kal v’chomer. If the air around the Rebbe is like Gan Eden (like it says about Yaakov, “The scent of my son is like the scent of the field which Hashem blessed”) yet he sees fit to purify the air, then how much more so for us, in the air we find ourselves in,
do we need to review Mishnayos.”

THE DORMITORY
The sleeping problem was solved unexpectedly. In those years, shortly after they bought 770, the Rebbe Rayatz lived on the second floor, his son-in-law, Rashag, on the third floor, and the first floor remained empty at night (at that time there weren’t bachurim hanging around at
night). Rabbi Berel Chaskind asked me to sleep in 770. He chose me because I was an American who spoke English well and conducted myself properly, so if a policeman or mailman would
come, I’d know how to deal with them. I was given the key to one of the rooms on the first floor, a room that later became Rabbi Dovid Raskin’ office.

That’s how I had the zchus to sleep in 770 for a long period of time. I brought all my things to my new room, including my clothes and the maamarim that Reb Avrohom Pariz would publish. In those days printing was very expensive, and he would use a copying machine. These maamarim were my most cherished possessions, and I didn’t want to leave them at home. At that time, when a maamar came out, it was “bread from the heavens.” Till this day I have a bundle of tzukvetchte maamarim(crumpled maamarim), as they were called, since they were folded and put in one’s pocket to be learned on the train, on the bus, etc. That was its beauty: the more crumpled it was, the more it showed it had been learned.

I came to 770 in 5702 (1942), after the histalkus of RebbetzinShterna Sarah, mother of the Rebbe Rayatz, and I had the zchusof being part of the minyan that davened upstairs with the Rebbe Rayatz. Aside from me there were a few other chassidim who davened in the minyan regularly, such as Rabbi Nachum Sklar, Rabbi Avrohom Pariz, and Rabbi Yisroel Jacobson. I especially recall the sight of the Rebbe standing and taking in every move the Previous Rebbe made.

Chassidim came from afar in order to eat at the Rebbe’s table on Shabbos and Yom Tov. The Lubavitch kehillah in Crown Heights numbered a few dozen chassidim, but they came from other neighborhoods, too. Chassidim who lived in Boro Park ate at home and then walked to Crown Heights to farbreng with the Rebbe until the wee hours.

Forty to 50 people attended these farbrengens, but relative to theroom in which the Rebbe farbrenged in on the second floor, it was a large group. We once came to the farbrengen only to find the door locked. We learned that the Rebbe’s doctors said that the room shouldn’t get too stuffy (there were no air conditioners then, and when a few dozen people were in the room, it got
very warm). They had a system whereby a few chassidim entered, and after some time they left and other chassidim took their place. It often happened that in the middle of a sichah there were knocks at the door. Chassidim who stood outside who wanted some chassidim to come
out so they could go in.

We usually knocked quietly so as not to interrupt the farbrengen. One time, after we knocked a great deal but nobody came out, some of the chassidim began banging on the door. A few seconds later the Rebbe opened the door and said that when they knocked strongly the Rebbe [Rayatz] had stopped speaking, smiled, and said that they knocked with “an emes.” The
Rebbe allowed some chassidim to enter, but I as well as some others remained outside.

We waited a few minutes and then began knocking again, but nobody responded. There were a few chachomim who decided to knock strongly again until the Rebbe Rayatz stopped the sichah again and told the Rebbe:

Tell them that the time has already come when they can “take” from the walls there (i.e. the building of 770 was already suffused with Chassidus and kedushah, and even where we stood we were able to take chayus and kedushah from the walls). Today I think that if this was the case in 5703, how much more kedushah and Elokus are in the walls of 770 today?!

“A MESSAGE FROM ABOVE”
In those years it was difficult for the Rebbe Rayatz to walk, and since it was not dignified to see him being wheeled in his wheelchair, the Rebbe would enter the room first and leave last. When we entered the room, the Rebbe [Rayatz] was already sitting in his place with his face to the wall, so it wasn’t possible to see the Rebbe in a wheelchair.

One day after davening the Rebe asked us to wait, and they turned the chair around so that he could see us. The chassidim were shocked and wondered why the Rebbe was turning to view them. 

The Rebbe Rayatz looked at everybody with a penetrating gaze. This was the first time that I saw the Rebbe in tallis and tefillin. And if that wasn’t enough, the Rebbe suddenly began to speak. His face burned like a flame and he began with, “M’hut mir ibergigeben u’modia geven milmala” (they told me from Above). He said that on a day when you don’t say Tachanun, you must say chapter 20 of Tehillim, not as part of the prayer service but as supplication (see this instruction in the Tehillas Hashem siddur, p. 190). 

Later on, when I had yechidus with the Rebbe, I wrote about what happened
and concluded that to my great sorrow, despite the fact that I had seen the Rebbe in such an exalted state, I didn’t budge…

The Rebbe read the note, gave me a sharp look and said: RebYossel, af zich tor men oich nisht redden lashon hara (one is not allowed to say lashon hara about oneself).

That same year on Shavuos, the Rebbe Rayatz said we should sing the Niggun of Three
Movements, and in the middle of the niggun he suddenly rose from his wheelchair, supported himself with his hands, and stood up!

At that moment everybody rose and stood rooted to their spot. I stood next to the Rebbe’s table facing the Rebbe. The Rebbe stood with eyes closed and sang along as tear poured down his face. A few minutes later, the Rebbe stopped singing and sat down. Everybody sat and it was absolutely silent. We expected the Rebbe to say something, for we had never seen anything like this before.

The Rebbe opened his eyes, looked at each one of us, and said: I stood up in the middle of the niggun in honor of the three guests [the Baal Shem Tov, the Maggid, and the Alter Rebbe].

TIME OF WAR
Between the years of 5700 and 5705 (1940-45), the war years, the army held practice drills for civilians in the event that New York would be attacked by enemy planes. From time to time they would sound an alarm and everybody had to extinguish all lights and darken their houses. (For years afterward you could see the nails in the sides of the windows of the small zal in 770 on which they hung curtains.) Policemen went about the streets during this time and those people who did not darken theirhomes were heavily fined.

Once during a siren the assistants entered the room of the Rebbe Rayatz to shut the light. The Rebbe was in the room at that time and he looked out the window where you could see searchlightschecking to see whether any enemy planes were present.

Suddenly the Rebbe Rayatz sighed. The Rebbe turned around immediately to see what had happened, and the Rebbe Rayatz said, Vos vil men fun main tzeit?” (What do they want from my time?), because this went on sometimes for 20 minutes.

WORKING IN THE REBBE’S ROOM
Since I was a ben bayis in 770, Rebbetzin Nechama Dina appointed me to bring
food from the kitchen to the home of the Rebbe (her son-in-law), which was in the building on the corner of President and New York. The house number was 346, and we had a siman for it, “shmo hagadol” (“His great name,” shmo being numerically equivalent to 346). In this way a special closeness with the Rebbe was developed.

When the Rebbe came to New York in 5701 (1941), Merkos L’Inyanei Chinuch was founded, and one of its first projects was printing Talks and Tales. I once heard the Rebbe complain to Reb Sholom Mendel Simpson, “Ich darf alein leigin di Talks und Tales in di envelops un ich darf alein leigin di stemps. Mistama darf ich leigin in post oich…” (I have to put the Talks and Tales into envelopes myself, and stick the stamps on myself.I’ll probably have to take them to the post office, too.)

In those days the Rebbe had no help, because there were very few bachurim and they were tremendous masmidim.

Since I had heard the Rebbe say that, I approached him and suggested that I do the work, and that I would do it in my room so as not to disturb the Rebbe. The Rebbe said he agreed to my helping him, but he wanted me to work in his room.

I worked in a corner of the room, and as I did so, I observed the Rebbe to see what he was doing. At that time, kuntreisim of the Rebbe Rashab were being published, and the Rebbe edited the material with a pencil. He stood with one leg on a chair and the other leg on the floor while he
worked. In response to my request, the Rebbe gave me some of the galley sheets with his holy handwriting on it as a gift.

I was accustomed to asking the Rebbe Rayatz questions inChassidus. One time, I wrote that it seemed there was acontradiction between two maamarei Chassidus. The Rebbe wrote to me [see picture]: “I gave your letter with the question to my son-in-law…Reb Menachem Mendel, Shlita, and he will certainly answer you, im yirtzeh Hashem.”

Indeed, soon after, I received an answer to my question from the Rebbe. I regarded
this as a sign from the Rebbe Rayatz in 5709 to become mekushar to the Rebbe Shlita.

Since the Rebbe Rayatz had directed me to address my questions to his son-in-law, in those years I would write the Rebbe many letters with questions I had in Chassidus as well as nice explanations that I thought of. I had the privilege of receiving dozens of letters in response.

After the passing of the Rebbe Rayatz and the acceptance of the nesius by the Rebbe, I stopped writing the Rebbe my questions. I figured the Rebbe certainly had more important things to do, and I didn’t want to bother him.

When I went to the wedding of my brother-in-law, Reb Herschel Feigelstock, I traveled in the same car as the Rebbe (the Rebbe was the mesader kiddushin). The Rebbe sat in the front, and Rabbi Chadakov and I sat in the back. On the way, the Rebbe turned around and said: How is it that a long time has gone by and I haven’t heard questions in Chassidus from you?

I told the Rebbe that I realize that the Rebbe has more important things to do, but the Rebbe said, “Nevertheless, write!”

I wrote a letter to the Rebbe with some questions I had at the time. I did not receive an answer, but faithful to the Rebbe’s request, I sat and wrote another letter. This went on for 13weeks. Every Friday I handed in a letter to the Rebbe with the questions that came up that week, but I received no response.

Then I suddenly received a general-personal letter, NEEDS SOME CLARIFICATION WHAT A GENERAL-PERSONAL LETTER IS. Maybe: a letter written to all Anash on which the Rebbe had handwritten a personal comment: “Your letters were received in a timely fashion and when time allows, I will respond, bli neder.” Shortly thereafter a letter arrived with all the answers, and I had to look up the drafts of my letters to remind myself of my questions.


THE FIRST SHLICHUS AND LESSONS
One day, around the week of Parshas Shmos in the year 5705, I was sitting in the zal at seven in the morning when Rashag entered and told me that Rabbi Tzvi Shusterman from Chicago was opening a yeshivah in Rochester and had no teachers. “Maybe you can teach there for two weeks?”

I was 18 years old at the time and I didn’t think I was capable ofteaching, but Rashag said, “The shver (the Rebbe Rayatz) wants you to go.” Naturally, I agreed. 

I went to my parents’ home in Boro Park to tell them I was going to Rochester, an eight-hour train trip. My mother didn’tlike the idea, but my father told me to do what the Rebbe said. I took my few personal belongings which included a bit of clothing and most importantly, all the maamarim I had – that was my great treasure!

I arrived in Rochester where Rabbi Shusterman had rented an old house, which was freezing. There was no electric boiler, just a wood-burning oven, just like in times of old. RabbiShusterman and I chopped the wood into pieces, and I thought of the hashgachah pratis in the fact that I had lately learned the inyan of “wood which doesn’t burn properly, you break into pieces” (the wording from the Zohar as brought in Tanya) with Reb Shmuel Levitin.

We gathered children and began teaching. When four weeks had passed and I received no instructions from the Rebbe about what to do next, I asked Rabbi Shusterman what to do. He said: do what you think is right. I decided that since they had sent me for a period of two weeks, which had long since passed, it was okay to return to New York.

Shortly after I arrived, the secretary Reb Chaim Lieberman came to the small zal and gave me a letter from the Rebbe Rayatz full of rebuke for leaving Rochester without permission.

“Why did you leave Rochester without first getting permission from the menahel Shlita? Such is not done. A talmid ha’tmimimmust be devoted to the hanhalah with the utmost discipline.”

The Rebbe concluded the letter, “From now on you’ll listen towhatever they say and travel wherever they send you, and Hashem will help you materially and spiritually and you’ll succeed in learning and in conduct with fear of Heaven.”

Years later I showed the letter to the Rebbe, and he told me that it was specifically the sharp words that proved how close I was to the Rebbe Rayatz.