Lehisraanen Episode 15: Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Katzman (Crown Heights) | Part One

00:00 Speaker 1 Sholom aleichem, welcome to another episode of the Lehisraanen podcast, where chassidim share memories and bring to life the times they spent with the Rebbe at Beis Chayeinu, 770, the source of life. In this way, we chassidim refresh our connection to the Rebbe, relive the atmosphere of those days, and make good resolutions to strengthen our study of the Rebbe’s Torah and follow in his ways. With Hashem’s help, we will see him again very soon. This week, we’ll refresh those memories together with the chossid Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Katzman. As we come from the festival of festivals, the celebration of the Geulah on 12 and 13 Tammuz, he’ll share stories of his grandfathers’ and father’s mesirus nefesh in Communist Russia. We’ll hear about their special connection with the Rebbe and the Rebbe’s family, and the stages of their escape from Russia: the displaced-persons camps, Pocking, France, and finally their arrival in the king’s neighborhood, at Beis Chayeinu, 770. He’ll tell us about special instructions and yechidus meetings his father and grandfather received. Then he’ll share his own memories, beginning when he was just three years old and remembers the Rebbe in an orchard in the town of [unclear], and continuing through the years of the fifties, the sixties, and the eighties. As someone who was at home in Beis Chayeinu and hardly ever left it, he shared special personal experiences that refresh and strengthen our connection to the Rebbe, until we see him again very soon. This episode is dedicated in honor of Mrs. Esther Sarah Nechami bas Raza Rivkah, in connection with her birthday this week. May she and her husband shlita have much nachas from all their descendants, in good health and joy. [unclear] robust health and boundless joy. And may we all merit to see the Rebbe again immediately. Let’s listen and be refreshed. Sholom aleichem, Rabbi Katzman.

01:51 Speaker 2 Welcome.

01:53 Speaker 1 We’re meeting at last. I’ll ask you what I ask all my interviewees: Fun vanet shtamt ir? Where do you come from?

02:02 Speaker 2 That’s a question that... Yes, everyone asks about your background. So my lineage begins—officially, as they call it, with the stock of chassidim. On one side, my mother’s side, we’re chassidim. My mother’s father was Rabbi Chaim Chanin, and we come from a line of chassidim going all the way back to the Alter Rebbe. He knew exactly, generation after generation, all the way back to the Alter Rebbe. His father-in-law was Reb Shmuel Nemoytin, one of the Ten Martyrs of [unclear]. Apart from his lineage, he was—

03:07 Speaker 1 A chossid, with mesirus nefesh.

03:08 Speaker 2 Yes. No, that too. He was an exceptional servant of Hashem. He was a devoted chossid, and the Rebbe Rashab instructed him to travel to Moscow, which was outside the Pale of Settlement, and open a hotel with a restaurant there, so chassidim would have a place to meet.

03:38 Speaker 1 People traveling through.

03:39 Speaker 2 Yes. But what came of it later, after the revolution, during the Communist period, was that it became a good place to meet under the cover of—

03:56 Speaker 1 Supposedly eating at a restaurant.

03:58 Speaker 2 Yes, eating at a restaurant. He also had the privilege of hosting our Rebbe in his home when the Rebbe arrived in Leningrad. Ah, sorry, I said Moscow. My mistake—Leningrad. The Rebbe sent him to Leningrad, and our Rebbe stayed in their home. I know this from firsthand testimony, from an uncle, my grandmother’s brother, Rabbi Polani Nemoytin [?], who told me that he slept in the same room as the Rebbe for three months. He also said that apart from “gut morgen” and “gut nacht”—good morning and good night—he didn’t hear a word from the Rebbe. The Rebbe was that quiet. They would also bring food from that house to the Rebbe’s home, and to the Rogatchover. My grandmother told me that she was a little girl and used to bring the food. That’s how she knew the Rogatchover. She described to me what he looked like and so on. Reb Shmuel, too, was among the martyrs. He disappeared together with Reb Chunya Marozov, his son, and many other chassidim—Raskin, Itche Raskin. They were the kedoshim of that time. He also had the privilege of having a son, Reb Yoske, Reb Yosef Nemoytin—

05:46 Speaker 10 Who helped the Rebbe’s father.

05:47 Speaker 2 He was the one who went around with a bed and helped the Rebbe. So that’s our lineage on that side. My grandfather, Reb Chaikel, stood out all his life. Everyone who knew him knew that he was involved in communal work from his youth. He was a young man. His story was that his father died when he was young, and he had to provide for the family. He was the oldest. So he and his mother had some sort of factory, [unclear], and they were wealthy. This was under Communist rule, so everything was done under the table, on the black market, and they were wealthy—truly wealthy. And when you’re wealthy, age doesn’t matter and wisdom doesn’t matter; you’re, as they say, in the thick of things. That’s how he became involved in communal work. Even though he was young, he worked alongside the leading figures of the time: Reb Chunya and all the prominent activists of the older generation, Reb Avraham Mendel Plotkin, Reb Mendel Dubravsky, and the others. And that’s how he always was. He was generally well-off and able to help, and his whole outlook became: “I live for someone else. I don’t live for myself.” He married Reb Shmuel’s daughter in Leningrad, and they stayed there until the blockade—the siege of Leningrad. Then a terrible famine broke out, and everyone who could—

08:00 Speaker 10 During World War II.

08:01 Speaker 2 Yes, that was in 5702 [?], I think. People were literally dropping like flies. They escaped on the last train out of Leningrad. Not everyone managed to get out, and almost nobody who stayed survived. There were so very many among Anash. Ah, there’s someone else I didn’t mention. My grandmother’s grandfather was Reb Shaya Nemirotin. Reb Shaya Nemirotin was Reb Shmuel’s father. He was a rav of a special kind. The Rebbe Rashab held him in very high regard. The Rogatchover corresponded with him. He was an exceptional rav, the rav of Beshankovich. By the way, since we’ve mentioned Beshankovich, my grandfather used to tell a story. He grew up around there too, in [unclear]. He was a student of Reb Shaya Bruk and learned with him in cheder. Once, in a town in that area—I don’t know exactly which one, but somewhere around where they lived—there was a fire. And, G-d forbid, in those days all the houses had thatched roofs. It took just a moment for the whole town to go up in flames.

09:27 Speaker 10 Everything burned down.

09:29 Speaker 2 Yes, and sadly there were casualties, so many casualties. One chossid there lost sixteen members of his family. My grandfather remembered that when they came to gather what remained, that chossid said, “Now I understand why the Tzemach Tzedek told me seventy-five years ago to study [unclear] every day.”

10:02 Speaker 10 Yes, the [unclear] is by the Alter Rebbe—

10:04 Speaker 2 Because you see, in Tanya he explains that material things have no real significance. The chossid said, “If not for that, I wouldn’t have gotten through this.” That’s what my grandfather remembered from childhood—stories, memories. There were always farbrengens in their home. They had money, and they had guests. That continued until after the siege, when they traveled deep into Asia, heading for Samarkand. They had heard there was a community of Anash in Samarkand. Tashkent was a stop along the way. At every station, whenever the train stopped, my grandfather would jump off to buy something to eat. He went into the market and saw that it was full of food. So he said, “We’re staying here. There’s food here. We don’t know what there is in Samarkand, but here there’s food.” They stayed in Tashkent, and a community formed there too. They began stopping the trains—

11:14 Speaker 10 To get the—

11:15 Speaker 2 “Get off here; there’s food.” There was something of a center of well-to-do people there, and a great deal of help came from there. I think the Deutsch family was there too—that illustrious family, also well known for how they helped everyone. They didn’t end up moving to Samarkand, but my grandfather traveled here and there. He used his money, bribed the police, and that gave them a little respite in the middle of the war. The government was also occupied with the war, so there was some respite, and they established Tomchei Temimim. My grandfather was one of its biggest supporters. Then, after the war, an acquaintance of his in the police told him, “You have to get out of here, because you’re on the list.”

12:20 Speaker 10 In the crosshairs now, as they say.

12:21 Speaker 2 “We’re starting.” Of course, he spread the word, and he also told Reb Nissan, “I have to escape.” But Reb Nissan was still under the impression—

12:33 Speaker 10 That everything was free.

12:34 Speaker 2 That they had to—no, that too. They didn’t understand. They understood that a message had come from the Frierdiker Rebbe that everyone should stay. So Reb Nissan wasn’t ready to go along with it, but my grandfather said, “I have no choice. I’ve been told I have to escape.”

12:49 Speaker 10 You were in the crosshairs.

12:50 Speaker 2 Yes. So Reb Nissan said to him, “You’ll escape? What am I supposed to do without you? How will I manage?” My grandfather said, “Here,” and gave him money. I don’t know whether it was one million rubles or two million. I know we have a copy of the receipt. Reb Zalman Shimon was also at the yeshiva, and he wrote a receipt acknowledging that they had received the sum.

13:21 Speaker 10 That enormous sum.

13:22 Speaker 2 Yes. And in the end, after the whole situation changed and everyone decided to flee, they used that money to pay for the forged passports. Some of it came from that money. Other people contributed too, but that money was an important part of it. And after the Frierdiker Rebbe’s Igros Kodesh were printed, we found a letter in which the Frierdiker Rebbe asks for an accounting of how much money Chaim Kolchanin[?] gave, because he wanted to repay him. Okay, we didn’t know about this all those years, but that’s what we found. That was after he reached France—first Pocking, then France, and later he moved to the United States. He was always one of the leading activists, in every situation. That was his character. That’s on my mother’s side.

14:25 Speaker 10 On your mother’s side.

14:25 Speaker 2 My mother, too—may she live for many long years—was also privileged to be involved. She was an activist, and still is, even at her age. She was among the founders of Machon Chana. When the Rebbe visited Machon Chana, the next day he sent a letter to everyone on the administration, to each woman separately. So there’s a letter to my mother, a letter to Mrs. Telshevsky[?], and to Rebbetzin Klein. Each one separately, saying how much he had enjoyed the visit.

15:06 Speaker 10 And your father, Reb Zelig.

15:07 Speaker 2 Now we’ll come to my father.

15:10 Speaker 10 I can say that I remember arriving at the kibbutz, and they would always tell me, “In Crown Heights, look at the Jews [unclear] and see how he holds himself like a sheigetz.” Reb Zelig was one of the examples.

15:20 Speaker 2 Okay, let me tell you something. Before I begin, we really know almost nothing about my father. He was closed off; he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t talk about himself or tell us his history. We really don’t know. What I do know, I heard from people after he passed away. So this is roughly what I’ve pieced together. His mother was from the Pindrik family. Apparently they had been chassidim for several generations. His mother’s brother was Rabbi Shmuel Yosef Pindrik, who appears several times in Igros Kodesh. He was in—well, which city? There’s a yeshivah there, and one of its roshei yeshivah also writes a lot. How did the name slip my mind? One of the towns.

16:29 Speaker 10 Where? In which country?

16:31 Speaker 2 In Eretz Yisroel. In Eretz Yisroel, you know. Not Etz—where—

16:41 Speaker 10 Not in Netanya? No.

16:43 Speaker 2 Yes, in Netanya. In Netanya, right. It slipped my mind. Rabbi Shmuel Yosef Pindrik was in Netanya, and somehow the Rebbe was very close to him and looked after him. There was a story involving a generator. He was in a nursing home, and the Rebbe wanted to pay for a generator for him for Shabbos. There’s also a letter in which the Rebbe wishes him mazel tov on the shidduch of my father, his nephew. We don’t know much about that either. We really don’t know much. That’s my father’s mother’s side. On his father’s side, there was a Tamim known as Mishka Poltaver. Moshe Zalman Katzman was a student in Tomchei Temimim. Everyone asks whether he was related to Rabbi Shmuel Katzman, who is mentioned in Lubavitch[?]. We don’t know of any connection. Moshe Zalman was an exceptional oved; he was famous as Mishka Poltaver. I would hear Reb Meir Ratkin and Mendel Morozov reminisce about him and speak of him with such admiration. So my father was born in Poltava, but his own father, as I understand it, was a misnaged.

18:07 Speaker 10 Meaning his father, the father of Reb—

18:08 Speaker 2 The father of Reb Moshe—

18:10 Speaker 10 Was Litvish.

18:11 Speaker 2 His name was Zelig. No, Zelig was on his mother’s side. Hillel, I think. So he was a misnaged. What sort of misnaged? He wouldn’t let the girls study Torah. That kind of misnaged, a frum misnaged. But we really know nothing about him. They also moved to Malakhovka. They were in Malakhovka, and their house was one of the hiding places where chassidim would take shelter.

18:49 Speaker 10 On the way from Moscow.

18:50 Speaker 2 Yes. So that was one of those houses. From there they moved to Samarkand. When they reached Samarkand, amid the famine—yes—his parents both died within two weeks. A sister died too, a little later, I think, and my father was left behind. This was around the time of his bar mitzvah. He was left with his brother, Reb Hillel, who was three years younger. They were alone together. I have to tell a story about what quite literally saved my father from death. My father had nothing. They had no mother, no father. They wandered the streets, through the puddles. Their clothes hung off them; they were dressed in rags. Then one day Reb Shaul Gopin passed them in the street. He was just a young man of twenty or so; I don’t know exactly how old he was. He saw two children in the street and looked at their faces. He said, “They look like they’re one of ours.” He asked their names, and when they identified themselves, he said, “Come with me.” He took the two children, and then brought them to Reb Michel Teitelbaum. Reb Michel Teitelbaum had arrived in Samarkand when everyone was looking for a roof over their heads and a slice of bread. And Michel Teitelbaum arrived and said, “We have to open a yeshivah.”

20:40 Speaker 11 He was looking for children.

20:41 Speaker 2 Yes, and nobody would even pay attention to him. They called him Michel der Meshugener—Michel the madman. “What are you thinking about now? [unclear] There are no students now.” At that time, there wasn’t a student anywhere in Russia.

20:56 Speaker 11 This was after he had already been arrested, with everything that happened in Berdichev and all that.

20:59 Speaker 2 Yes, yes, his whole history. But he had to open a yeshivah. Reb Shaul Gopin had two orphans for him: no opposition, no parents.

21:10 Speaker 11 Treasures.

21:11 Speaker 2 No parents to—

21:14 Speaker 11 [unclear]

21:15 Speaker 2 Yes. So he takes them to Michel and says, “Michel, here are your first two boys, your first students.” Here are your first two children to teach. Michel took them and brought them to the home of Manya Dubravsky. Manya Dubravsky was the mother of the well-known chossid and writer Rabbi Yehoshua Dubravsky, Heshke Dubravsky. Her husband had also died of starvation, as had two of her children. She was left alone with Heshke. But her father-in-law, Reb Mendel, her husband’s father—no, Reb Mendel—

21:57 Speaker 11 No, her father-in-law was named Mendel.

21:59 Speaker 2 Her husband was Lipa, Eliezer Lipa. Reb Mendel. They were still there, in I don’t know what sort of hole they were living in. He brought the boys to Manya Dubravsky’s home and said to Manya, “Manya, give me your son for the yeshivah.” She looked at him. Heshke was lying in bed with typhus, swollen from hunger. With a bitter smile she said, “What I need for him is a Jewish burial, not a yeshivah. What are you talking about? He’s about to die.” And Michel said firmly, “If you give this boy to the yeshivah, I promise you he’ll live.” Reb Mendel was on the other side of the house. [unclear] I don’t know how old he already was.

22:52 Speaker 11 Mendel was the father-in-law.

22:53 Speaker 2 The father-in-law. And he called out to her, “Manya, what have you got to lose? Give him the boy.” “Okay, fine, take him.” Right then and there, Michel found a Gemara somewhere in the house and opened it.

23:12 Speaker 11 Three children.

23:13 Speaker 2 Three children, and he began teaching them. That’s how Tomchei Temimim began.

23:17 Speaker 11 In Samarkand.

23:17 Speaker 2 In Samarkand. And then it became a flourishing yeshivah, with Reb Nissan and all the others. It simply saved them. Once there was a yeshivah, there was food, there were places to sleep—somehow everything came together.

23:36 Speaker 11 It saved them both physically and spiritually.

23:38 Speaker 2 Yes, right, exactly. And my father devoted himself to his studies. I can’t get my head around it. In our generation, we can’t understand how people in that situation, amid hunger—

23:54 Speaker 11 They didn’t know, they didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.

23:56 Speaker 2 They suffered terrible hunger, had no proper clothes, and so many of them had lost their parents. Nobody would believe it. If you had taken that class and placed them among the misnagdim, they would have been world-renowned Torah giants. The Morozovs were a little older, but they were Torah giants. How it happened, I really don’t understand. Then the time came to flee, and there were still differences of opinion.

24:31 Speaker 12 Among the shluchim.

24:33 Speaker 2 Yes, yes—whether to flee or not. For about half a year, until—Reb Nissan was still saying not to flee. My father’s uncle, Reb Shmuel Yosef, called him and said, “I have passports for you. If you want, come with me.” My father answered, “I belong to Tomchei Temimim. What is Tomchei Temimim doing? What does Reb Nissan say?” A week or two later, around Shavuos 5706, my father went to invite Reb Nissan to his brother Hillel’s bar mitzvah. He arrived at the house and was told that Reb Nissan had disappeared. He had fled because they had begun following him too. So my father said, “Wait a minute. I’m staying on Tomchei Temimim’s account, but if it’s no longer here...” He changed his mind and joined his uncle before he left. That’s how he got out. He reached Pocking, then Brunoy, and there too he immersed himself in his studies. In fact, he received a visa and was supposed to be among the first to arrive, around Yud Shvat, with Reb Dovid Raskin.

26:03 Speaker 12 Around the time of Sholom Morozov.

26:04 Speaker 2 Yes, and Gedaliah Korach.

26:06 Speaker 12 [unclear]

26:08 Speaker 2 Yes, but his brother didn’t get a visa. So he stayed another year and a half, until Purim. Shabbos Mevarchim Adar 5712, he arrived at [unclear].

26:26 Speaker 12 A sentence, a sentence with—

26:27 Speaker 2 That was his first farbrengen. The first maamar was “Avdi Dovid,” and he really was a servant. I don’t know how many more details there are, but there are some interesting ones. This is what I heard from Reb Yair—not directly from him. I heard it from bochurim who told me. Do you know the story? They started asking me for details about something that happened with my father on Shabbos, on what they called Shabbos Hagadol 5712.

26:59 Speaker 12 Shemini 5712.

27:00 Speaker 2 Shemini 5712. I said, “What about the niggun of the Three Movements?” Reb Yair had told the story. I had never heard it in my life, so I went over to Reb Yair to ask him. He looked at me and said, “What, you don’t know?” How would I know? My father never said a word. All the stories I’ve told you until now—

27:25 Speaker 12 You heard from—

27:26 Speaker 2 Not from my father. Reb Yair told me that it was on Shemini Atzeres. The Rebbe was asking repeatedly for them to sing the Three Movements. They started singing, and apparently some were singing it one way and some another. It was the small zal, with everyone crowded together, and they didn’t really know exactly how to sing it. Today people don’t understand what that was like, but that’s how it was then. Suddenly, in the middle of the singing, my father was apparently singing on his own. It sounds as though he simply closed his eyes and sang. Suddenly the Rebbe began looking at him. It was a small zal. The Rebbe was looking at him, and gradually everyone around him fell silent while he sang. When he finished the niggun, the Rebbe turned to him and asked, “Who did you hear that from?” He answered that he had heard it from Dovid Leib Marozov, the son of the elder Rabbi Chuna[?]. The Rebbe remarked, “That sounds right.” I don’t know if that’s the version we know today. I don’t know the details, but that’s the story. Now, another story, this one connected with the wedding. My father was an orphan, and the Rebbe was very concerned for him. Anyone who reads the Igros Kodesh from that period, anyone familiar with the history of the early [unclear], especially the first half, knows how very concerned the Rebbe was for the Chabad community, particularly the orphans and the bochurim at 770. The Rebbe appointed a chossid, the well-known Reb Itche Goldin[?], to look after the orphaned bochurim, especially when it came to shidduchim. In short, a match was arranged. My grandfather, Reb Chaim, was officially a wealthy man, but at precisely that time he had nothing. Still, he merited it: my father was considered outstanding, one of the finest of the Temimim, a person of great avodah and a great Torah scholar. Anyway, once the match was arranged, the first thing the Rebbe did was write to my grandfather, who was still living in France. He wrote

30:12 Speaker 2 to him that he must not borrow money for tickets to come to the wedding. The wedding was supposed to be here. The Rebbe was [unclear]. He should not buy a ticket. So the first thing from the Rebbe was: you’re not coming to the wedding. Nevertheless, the Rebbe said, “I’m asking for a dowry.”

30:38 Speaker 13 So he shouldn’t borrow money for tickets to Crown Heights, to New York, but a dowry—yes.

30:42 Speaker 2 Not money for tickets, but yes for a dowry. And he told Reb Itche, who was the intermediary, “Tell him I don’t give away my bochurim for free.” So they didn’t know what to do. There’s a whole story of how he got the money. Briefly, there was a woman who had benefited from his money to buy passports in Russia. She heard he needed money and went out of her way to help. I’ll even mention her name. Those who remember Reb Motel Gurary, who was a rabbi here in Crown Heights—

31:31 Speaker 13 At Chevra Shas.

31:33 Speaker 2 His mother, Etty[?]. She said, “He gave me money so I could get out. I have no way to repay him, but I saved money to marry off my orphans. So I’m willing—

31:50 Speaker 13 To give the money as a loan.

31:52 Speaker 2 To lend it. She asked rabbis, and the rabbis said they would take responsibility, but she still wasn’t ready. She wrote to the Rebbe. We heard this too from Reb Motel Gurary at the shloshim for my grandfather.

32:12 Speaker 13 For Reb Chaim.

32:12 Speaker 2 For Reb Chaim. And my father passed away before him.

32:15 Speaker 13 Yes. Your grandfather was still [unclear].

32:18 Speaker 2 Yes. My father [unclear]. My grandfather—

32:20 Speaker 13 [unclear].

32:21 Speaker 2 Yud Cheshvan. And my grandfather, samech-vov. In short—or samech-daled. Anyway, Reb Motel told us that she received a letter from the Rebbe about the merit of helping a bride marry, with astonishing things in it. That’s how the matter of the dowry worked out. Then there was one more small detail, and I’m telling it because it was published not quite accurately. There’s no picture from my father’s [unclear]. Chanukah 5697. And Reb Itche[?]—there was a period when it was known that the Rebbe wasn’t pleased about—

33:19 Speaker 13 Having pictures.

33:20 Speaker 2 Having pictures, but everyone took pictures.

33:25 Speaker 13 Wasn’t there a condition that there could only be two pictures?

33:28 Speaker 2 That was later. So my father said, “The Rebbe doesn’t want pictures; there won’t be pictures.” Then Reb Itche[?] stepped in. He went in to the Rebbe and said, “Perhaps the Rebbe could allow a little—

33:45 Speaker 13 Leeway.

33:46 Speaker 2 Leeway, at least. You told Reb Chaim[?] he can’t come.

33:50 Speaker 13 So let him have a picture.

33:50 Speaker 2 He gave the dowry. At least let him have the pleasure of a picture.” The Rebbe answered, “If not with Zelig, with whom will I be able to have my way?” If not with Zelig—

34:06 Speaker 13 With whom will I be able to prevail?

34:07 Speaker 2 With whom will I manage—

34:08 Speaker 13 To prevail.

34:09 Speaker 2 To prevail. That was that, and so it remained: there’s no picture. You can see that even at the wedding immediately after my father’s, there is a picture, but you can tell it was taken on the sly. It isn’t of the face; it’s from the side. Later the Rebbe gave permission. I think it was first for one picture, and then for two. As a bochur, my father was appointed rosh yeshiva in Newark. Everyone talks about him as a mashpia, but he was actually strong in nigleh; he was a mashgiach and rosh yeshiva. In one document, the Rebbe calls him “the rosh yeshiva from Newark.” He davened with avodah. His students say they would hide behind the door and watch him daven. Eventually, after he had four children, there was no livelihood. The yeshiva really wasn’t doing well. The Rebbe said, “It seems you need to look for another livelihood.” He found work. At first he worked nights, until one of his employers grew very fond of him and said, “Come be my partner.” So he became a businessman. He went in to the Rebbe and said, “I don’t want this.”

35:40 Speaker 13 I don’t want it.

35:41 Speaker 2 “I don’t want this. It isn’t what I’m made for.” The Rebbe answered, “It seems this is your lot.” And that’s how he lived his whole life: this is my lot, the lot of a Jew. But he always davened with avodah. That was what he was best known for; everyone knew it. He would get fired up at farbrengens.

36:05 Speaker 13 He learned Shas regularly.

36:07 Speaker 2 He learned—that was his whole, whole—

36:10 Speaker 13 I still remember when he came in for that last half year.

36:12 Speaker 2 Right. His whole personality, his whole personality, was nigleh and Chassidus. In his last half year at Oholei Torah he was already, as they say, retired. They asked him, and he became a mashgiach at Oholei Torah for that last half year. And after he passed away, I remember everyone coming into the house and seeing his set of Shas. That was what struck them. They knew about his davening and all that—

36:45 Speaker 13 That the volumes of Shas were worn from use.

36:46 Speaker 2 This is getting a little embarrassing. It has nothing to do with me.

36:50 Speaker 13 It does, it does. What’s [unclear]? All right, one thing I do remember you telling me is that you remember the Rebbe from—well, from the age of three.

37:01 Speaker 2 Yes.

37:01 Speaker 13 That brings us to [unclear].

37:02 Speaker 2 Yes. I was born here, grew up here, and I’m still here.

37:11 Speaker 13 Until the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu.

37:13 Speaker 2 Amen. So yes, the first question everyone asks is, “What’s your earliest memory?” For years I’ve remembered an image of a Lag BaOmer parade. When I think about it, I was three, because the parade was after the Rebbe had [unclear]. I remember being a little boy with my mother. She had a stroller, and we were standing on Eastern Parkway, across from—by the bank, on the bank side. I remember looking and seeing the Rebbe standing outside 770 as buses went by. I even remember their colors: olive and beige. I don’t know what you’d call that brown—olive and brown. I have that image in my mind. You could see the buses full of children, and the Rebbe—

38:28 Speaker 13 Clapping his hands.

38:28 Speaker 2 Clapping his hands. I thought to myself, “How can that be? Are you crazy? You were three—what could you possibly remember?” So I was delighted when, a few years ago, JEM found video of that very parade, from that very angle. It was exactly the image I remembered. So apparently that’s my first memory. I also have a hazy memory of the shalash, but I remember it. How do I remember? Because the Rebbe was filmed in the shalash.

39:07 Speaker 13 The shalash is the—

39:08 Speaker 2 It was—

39:09 Speaker 13 The parking area, the garage.

39:11 Speaker 2 Yes, where the very back part is now—

39:15 Speaker 13 Where the porch is.

39:16 Speaker 2 Of 770.

39:16 Speaker 13 Where the western bleachers are.

39:17 Speaker 2 Yes. And there was parking there for the building, for ambulances. I don’t know exactly what it was. That was also one of the reasons they bought the house, so the Frierdiker Rebbe could go straight into the elevator. So there was, um, the—

39:37 Speaker 13 The shalash.

39:38 Speaker 2 No, there was a slope going down. And we children would play there while the Rebbe was davening inside. I remember people coming out and shouting at us, “Quiet!” Yes. Those are some of my earliest memories. 770 was our home. Don’t forget, it was a very small community, and that was the only place. Where else would a Chabad chossid go? Today there are lots of shuls. Back then there was this place, the [unclear], especially on Shabbos. We played in the [unclear], in every nook and cranny. It all belonged to us. Even Gan Eden Hatachton was ours. They didn’t lock doors. My father used to daven in the [unclear]. When the Rebbe farbrenged, he would be at the farbrengen, but that was only once a month. On all the other Shabbosos my father would daven in the [unclear] until two, three o’clock. We were little, from about age eight, running wild.

40:54 Speaker 14 You ran around, you made a racket.

40:56 Speaker 2 Yes, yes. Later, when they built the building—as the Rebbe once put it—until a brilliant Jew from England came along with the brilliant idea that instead of the tarpaulins over the shalash, you could build an actual roof. So they built the first section. And that led to more of the children’s antics. There was a roof there, and how did you get onto it? You went up the stairs inside Gan Eden Hatachton, where there are windows. Today everything is closed off, but back then it was all open. We’d climb out through the windows onto the roof. They had also made skylights in the roof, and when it was hot they’d be open, and we’d run around up there. Foolish children—but we were children, and it was home. The Rebbe davened upstairs.

41:51 Speaker 14 In the zal.

41:52 Speaker 2 In the small zal, and we were under the Rebbe’s feet. That was for Minchah and Maariv, on Friday evenings and Motzaei Shabbos. Apart from Kabbalas Shabbos and Shabbos morning Shacharis, everything was still upstairs. Minchah and Maariv—okay, not Minchah and Maariv yet. During the week that came later. We would sit at the farbrengen. That’s another thing: we sat right underneath the Rebbe. The platform wasn’t really a platform. They took a few tables and joined them together, including the Rebbe’s table; it was all pieced together.

42:38 Speaker 14 The platform for the—

42:39 Speaker 2 [unclear]

42:40 Speaker 14 The farbrengen platform.

42:41 Speaker 2 The platform where the Rebbe farbrenged.

42:44 Speaker 14 For davening there was no platform at all.

42:46 Speaker 2 Right. We would sit there, and the tables weren’t in the best shape or particularly well made, so there were always plenty of gaps and cracks. Sitting beneath the Rebbe, we could look straight up at him. Literally underneath, physically beneath the Rebbe’s feet. And sometimes the Rebbe would eat and a crumb would fall. We would daven to be the one to get that crumb. Yes. It didn’t happen often, though—that has to be stressed.

43:22 Speaker 14 Mm-hmm.

43:23 Speaker 2 In later years, the Rebbe made Kiddush at every farbrengen. Earlier, it wasn’t the practice for the Rebbe to make Kiddush at every farbrengen.

43:32 Speaker 14 There were farbrengens without even saying l’chaim.

43:34 Speaker 2 Yes, exactly. There was nothing—no l’chaim, no mezonos, nothing. But if it was around a special day, sometimes, you know, in Tishrei or Kislev—I don’t know exactly what the rules were. That’s why, if you look at the transcript, there’s sometimes a line, “[unclear] made Kiddush over wine.” What? Why mention it? Because it was something new. It wasn’t the usual thing. So when there was something like that, a drop of wine or whatever, that was at the farbrengen. At davening, we stood right next to the Rebbe. The children were always right next to the Rebbe.

44:15 Speaker 14 The thing is—

44:20 Speaker 2 It’s hard to answer exactly. Obviously, if the Rebbe hadn’t wanted it, it wouldn’t have happened. It was natural. You know, I’ll add that maybe there was also a certain lack of organization. There weren’t really gabbaim or an organizing committee, or anyone standing there—

44:46 Speaker 14 To decide what the song would be.

44:48 Speaker 2 Yes. They did whatever needed doing. There are things I remember that I haven’t heard anyone else talk about, but I remember them. The boxes—so the Rebbe did stand on a platform made from a few tables. I remember one particular example clearly. On Simchas Torah morning they dismantled the platform from the night before, and the Rebbe davened on the floor. After Shacharis the Rebbe moved to one side, and a few bochurim... Yes, I remember it so clearly.

45:37 Speaker 14 What did the Rebbe do?

45:39 Speaker 2 The Rebbe stood there. It took about half a minute, but the Rebbe moved to one side.

45:46 Speaker 14 And then he went up to begin the—

45:49 Speaker 2 Yes. And then, yes. That’s an image I remember from childhood. There were other special things for us children. Shavuos 5724. I was seven. There was a rule from Rabbi Chadakov—this I heard at the time, so I remember it. My father said that Rabbi Chadakov had said all the fathers had to take their children home when it reached eleven at night during the farbrengen.

46:28 Speaker 14 In the middle of the farbrengen.

46:29 Speaker 2 In the middle of the farbrengen. I remember my father would leave the—

46:34 Speaker 14 Take you home and come back.

46:35 Speaker 2 Take me home, yes. Shavuos 5724—I don’t know what happened. For some reason my father didn’t take me home. Maybe he couldn’t find me.

46:50 Speaker 14 Was this Motzaei Yom Tov?

46:51 Speaker 2 Motzaei Yom Tov.

46:52 Speaker 14 Meaning that by eleven the farbrengen was already well underway, on Motzaei Yom Tov.

46:55 Speaker 2 Yes. On Motzaei Yom Tov the farbrengen started at eight, before sunset, but it went on until [unclear], even two o’clock. So what did we do? We were tired. This is another of the places that are closed off today. Downstairs, near the elevator, there’s a wall with a door that now leads to the library. When we were children—

47:34 Speaker 14 Near Yishai Nissan Klein’s room [?].

47:36 Speaker 2 Yes, around there. His room is further inside. Just as there’s a hallway upstairs, there was a hallway downstairs too, but there was no wall; it was open. The doors we saw were doors to the Frierdiker Rebbe’s library. We would actually see Rabbi Chaim Lieberman going in and out. There was a passageway there leading to the boiler, to the—

48:09 Speaker 14 The room—

48:09 Speaker 2 The heating system. There was also an incinerator there, for burning garbage. If you look in the hallway at 770, on the floor of the zal, there’s a place they made for coats. Look at the wall and you’ll see something there.

48:42 Speaker 15 A sort of hole, as though—

48:43 Speaker 2 Like a hole, a sealed-up hole. That’s where there was an opening to throw the garbage in.

48:52 Speaker 15 That’s where they burn the chametz, isn’t it?

48:54 Speaker 2 Yes. Down below, there was a fire inside the building, and the Rebbe would go there to burn the chametz every Erev Pesach. But that passageway had another use. All the lost—no, all the lost items, what we call in English the lost and found. Anything left behind was thrown in there: all the coats and everything else. For a child, it was paradise too. If I needed to sleep, I’d go there. It was next to the heating system, so if you needed a little warmth, it was warm. Apparently I wasn’t the only one. A few of us children slept there. Suddenly people came and woke us up: “The Rebbe is looking for you in the middle of the farbrengen.” That was the famous story. The Rebbe began to cry because no one had remembered. It was now Isru Chag, and nobody had mentioned the Jews of Russia. The children weren’t to blame, though. So they were to sing [unclear], and people went looking for us. That’s a memory I have. There are things like that here and there. I knew Rebbetzin Chana.

50:22 Speaker 15 About how many children were there?

50:27 Speaker 2 Twenty, fifty—I have no idea. We knew Rebbetzin Chana as children. There were reasons we were close to her. When Rebbetzin Chana arrived in Pocking [?], she was unknown. There was fear of the Russians [?]. So she wasn’t well known, and I think she also arrived on forged papers. People didn’t know; only a very few knew who she was. I don’t know exactly what happened there. She was stranded, with nowhere to stay. They gave each family half a room, or a room and a half. And my aunt—who was my aunt? My grandmother’s sister—was a very well-known woman, Mrs. Musya [?], and she was alone. Her father and her child had passed away. That was it; she was alone. They gave her a tiny room, just enough for a bed and a little space to put your feet beside it. That was what she had. Then she saw a woman she didn’t yet know, who had nowhere to go, and invited her in. Once she realized who she was, of course, she gave her the bed and slept on the floor. Later, before Shabbos, Rebbetzin Chana asked my aunt, “Where will we be for Shabbos?” She said, “Come, we’re going to my sister’s.” Rebbetzin Chana was welcomed there. My aunt ran to her sister and said, “We have a guest.” And that’s how it was. She came to their home and stayed for several weeks. She ate with them. I don’t know exactly how long it was before she moved to Paris. My grandmother and grandfather also helped her with all sorts of things. For example, when she heard that her son was coming, she said, “I have nothing to wear. I’m going to Paris, and I have nothing to put on.” So my grandfather took care of it. He traveled to—I don’t know—some large city, to Munich, to buy fabric for her, and they made her clothes. That was one thing. It’s interesting,

53:20 Speaker 2 My mother tells how she was a child then—about ten, maybe a little older. Rebbetzin Chana would come, and the children were warned: an important woman is coming, and you have to be on your very best behavior.

53:39 Speaker 16 Your manners.

53:41 Speaker 2 Yes. When she came, she would talk and talk and talk. One of the things she spoke about was my grandmother’s brother, Reb Yosef. They had been together in Alma-Ata [?]. So we got—they got—

54:01 Speaker 16 Greetings from him.

54:01 Speaker 2 Greetings from him. She also told them something else, a very interesting anecdote. Reb Yosef had a son then, Levi Yitzchok.

54:16 Speaker 16 That you—

54:16 Speaker 2 Yes, that’s what he named him. He also had a yechidus; the Rebbe invited them in for yechidus. So she told them there was a son named Levi Yitzchok. That’s very interesting, because it’s known that afterward, the first Levi Yitzchok—the Rebbe was close to him, and the Rebbetzin was very close to him. They greatly appreciated that he had been given the name Levi Yitzchok. I don’t know exactly. Maybe because there had been—

54:42 Speaker 16 A stretch of time.

54:43 Speaker 2 A break in contact. I don’t know. But she told them about the son. So there was also a connection with Reb Yosef, and later with Musya. And she took the trouble to come and eat meals at my grandfather’s home. So we were somewhat close. In general, Rebbetzin Chana was very—

55:07 Speaker 16 Her home was open.

55:08 Speaker 2 Not only her home. She was refined, but approachable. One thing I remember, for example: she would stand on Kingston. They said she called it “shteyn oyf der zin”—standing in the sun. “Zin”—she spoke with a Ukrainian accent. “Shteyn oyf der zun,” standing in the sun, became “shteyn oyf der zin.” And she would stand there. She got pleasure from seeing the children. “My son’s little ones,” she would say. “Zin” also sounds like the word for “son.”

55:54 Speaker 16 Son. So, his little ones.

55:56 Speaker 2 My son’s children. She would also stand there—and here I may be adding a little interpretation—almost like a lookout. She would stop people, or people would stop to speak with her, and she would ask what was going on, what was happening. She would tell them how the Rebbe came every evening, and sometimes she would repeat things: “The Rebbe said this; the Rebbe said that.” Our family would stop too, and we would visit her at home—always by invitation, of course. She would give the little children candy or chocolate so they could make a bracha, “makhn a bracha,” and she would listen and answer “Amen.” One of my clearest memories is the last time I saw her. It was perhaps a month before her passing, in the summer.

57:03 Speaker 17 The summer of 5724.

57:04 Speaker 2 The summer of 5724. My mother was far along in her pregnancy. I remember we went out. She had five children with her, and I was the oldest. Rebbetzin Chana asked how she was doing and inquired about the pregnancy. She gave her blessings: “It should go well; there should be blessing.” That’s the last time I remember seeing her. Then she passed away.

57:45 Speaker 17 Her passing. Now, [unclear]. You just mentioned the oldest son, [unclear], my grandmother.

57:53 Speaker 3 My father had lost his parents, and so on. The name Yosef Yitzchok was—

57:58 Speaker 2 Okay, that’s a fair question. It’s worth pointing out that several things happened then, and not everyone is aware of them. First of all—

58:11 Speaker 17 You were born at eight months.

58:13 Speaker 2 I was born at eight months, and the custom was that before the bris, the father went in for yechidus. If there were grandparents, they went in too. Yes. I don’t think that happened in our case. My father never told me that the Rebbe said anything. It’s known that there were people whom the Rebbe told to give either the name Yosef Yitzchok or his own name, as it were, after the Tzemach Tzedek.

58:51 Speaker 3 It’s stated explicitly in a sicha.

58:53 Speaker 2 Yes.

58:53 Speaker 3 But you’re talking about—

58:54 Speaker 2 But that happened in yechidus too. I know of at least one story where they went in for yechidus, and the grandmother—the father’s mother—said to the Rebbe, “But what about my husband?”

59:10 Speaker 3 Her husband had been killed.

59:11 Speaker 2 Yes. And the Rebbe answered, “There will be more children. Don’t worry.” I know that story.

59:17 Speaker 3 Firsthand.

59:18 Speaker 2 Yes. But look at it historically: many families arrived without parents, without anything. Their first sons were named Yosef Yitzchok—or at least the first was Yosef Yitzchok—and in many cases the next was Menachem Mendel. Only the third received a family name. If you like, I can give you names. That’s how it was in our family: I’m Yosef Yitzchok, the second son is Menachem Mendel, and only the third was named after—well, my father’s father, Moshe Zalman. And Reb Nachum Volosov [?]: his first son was Yosef Yitzchok, his second was Menachem Mendel, and only the third... Bar Yunik [?]: his first son was Yosef Yitzchok, and only his second was Avraham Boruch, after Posner, his father-in-law. There were others too. Dubravsky—Heshke [?] Dubravsky. His first son was Yitzchok. He couldn’t name a son Menachem Mendel because his grandfather, Reb Menachem Mendel, was still alive. Only the third was Menachem Mendel. But that was the accepted practice. It’s worth knowing about.

1:00:43 Speaker 4 Nu, let’s go back to 2 Tishrei.

1:00:45 Speaker 2 Now we come to 6 Tishrei. The sixth—6 Tishrei was Shabbos, the funeral was on Sunday, and in the middle of Sunday night my sister was born.

1:01:02 Speaker 4 [unclear].

1:01:03 Speaker 2 After Sunday evening. The night of—the night before Monday. Then my father came to the shiva. You couldn’t just go in. There was [unclear]. I don’t remember exactly how it was arranged. There were guests; it was Tishrei. But first of all, Reb Dovid Raskin and my father were like brothers.

1:01:32 Speaker 4 A blood connection.

1:01:33 Speaker 2 Yes. And another thing: he was a kohen. And another thing—

1:01:37 Speaker 4 He had a simcha.

1:01:38 Speaker 2 A daughter had been born to him.

1:01:38 Speaker 4 He had a simcha.

1:01:39 Speaker 2 Yes. They let him in. They brought him in for davening, and he received an aliyah. After the aliyah, he needed to name the baby. So he turned to Reb Dovid and asked him to ask the Rebbe whether he could name her Chana. People today don’t understand—

1:02:04 Speaker 4 That you don’t do it without permission.

1:02:04 Speaker 2 The whole idea. What do you mean, ask? Was there any doubt? It’s not that there was a doubt. You didn’t do it without asking.

1:02:15 Speaker 4 Personally, I very much support that. Yes. Right, it was the accepted practice.

1:02:29 Speaker 2 Yes. So that’s what happened.

1:02:31 Speaker 4 Yasher koach.

1:02:32 Speaker 2 That’s what happened. There’s something from the Frierdiker Rebbe about this. There’s a very sharp letter. It was connected with something from a few days earlier. The Rebbe writes about a person like [unclear], a ben Torah.

1:02:47 Speaker 4 To set up the whole—

1:02:47 Speaker 2 Yes. That’s part of the letter. There the Rebbe writes—people think he’s writing to the bochurim—“You think you’re doing good things, so you don’t have to ask the leadership?” That’s not how it works. Before doing something, you must ask and get permission. Only then do you do it. For the Frierdiker Rebbe, that was a clear rule.

1:03:09 Speaker 4 Reb Dovid asked.

1:03:11 Speaker 2 The Rebbe asked—Rabbi Dovid asked the Rebbe, and the Rebbe answered with a smile, [unclear]. So he gave her the name. After that—now we’re getting into yechidus, because usually here you speak with people who went into yechidus as bochurim. I can tell you about yechidus as children. So we went in for yechidus. A few months later, and then once a year, we would go in as a family around Chanukah. Why? One reason was that my father knew his birthday was around Simchas Torah, but he didn’t know the exact day. That just shows you how much people knew. Besides, in Tishrei there were guests. So Chanukah worked out: my birthday, my sister’s birthday, and my parents’ wedding anniversary were all around then. So we would go in around Chanukah. What did we gain from that? We went in on Chanukah. Often it was during Chanukah itself.

1:04:35 Speaker 5 Chanukah gelt.

1:04:36 Speaker 2 We would get Chanukah gelt. In those years, that wasn’t the usual practice. I have silver coins, silver dollars, that I received from the Rebbe, and I also have a dollar bill. Once the Rebbe gave me a paper dollar that said “Silver Certificate” on it. Today every dollar says “Federal Reserve.” It’s just a banknote. There used to be a banknote backed by a piece of silver in a government vault. So I received one of those.

1:05:12 Speaker 5 A special edition. A silver edition.

1:05:13 Speaker 2 Yes, right. And we received Chanukah gelt from the Rebbe. That year she was little, three months old. I remember the Rebbe gave all of us a dollar. No—yes, we had all already received a dollar. And for my sister he took out a ten-dollar bill. I think he placed it on her. That was the first special gesture of closeness.

1:05:49 Speaker 5 Did he say anything about the name? No.

1:05:51 Speaker 2 Okay. I jumped a little ahead of Motzaei Yom Kippur. Motzaei Yom Kippur.

1:06:02 Speaker 5 In a sense, that was when the shivah ended.

1:06:03 Speaker 2 Yes, the Rebbe [unclear] Yom Kippur. So the Rebbe sent a mazal tov letter, as usual: “And her name in Israel shall be Chana, may she live.” Was it handwritten? I don’t remember. And afterward, something was written on the side: “Enclosed here...” I don’t remember whether it said “sixty-three, the numerical value of Chana,” or “Enclosed here, corresponding to the numerical value of Chana, toward her education.” He sent an amount of money corresponding to the numerical value of Chana, toward her education. That was right on Motzaei Yom Kippur. Afterward there was a first yechidus. Then there was a second yechidus. The following year, [unclear], we went in for yechidus. She was already a little over a year old, and in those days it wasn’t customary to make a particular celebration of birthdays. There was what the Rebbe would allow us regarding birthdays, but only for those who went in for yechidus. But we didn’t go in for yechidus on the birthday, when my father went in. So he would write out the whole list of names, with each person’s birthday alongside their name. The Rebbe turned to my father and asked, “When is her birthday?” Her birthday. I don’t know whether he pointed with his finger or mentioned her name. No, I don’t remember. And my father answered, “I wrote it”—meaning, I wrote it in the note. But he did say the date: 8 Tishrei. 8 Tishrei. So the Rebbe asked, “Did you write to me?” Then my father said, “I write when I go in for yechidus.” So the Rebbe said—

1:08:30 Speaker 6 A separate yechidus about this concerns me.

1:08:38 Speaker 2 [unclear]

1:08:39 Speaker 6 In other words, on the birthday—a separate note in honor of the birthday.

1:08:53 Speaker 2 Yes, yes. And that was another special gesture of closeness connected with this matter of the Tzemach Tzedek. That’s what we merited. Now that we’re talking about yechidus, I have another yechidus that... I wish I could tell you that I went in for yechidus as a bochur, made the most of it, asked questions, and so on. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like that, and I’ve heard that other guests of yours have told you the same thing. We were—I don’t know, I don’t understand. The truth is, I don’t understand how it happened. We simply weren’t taught. I can’t grasp it. People would go in and ask for a brachah, like a householder going in and holding out his hand. What are you—“who shall live and who shall die”? This is a bochur going in for yechidus. In fact, when the Rebbe discontinued it, the Rebbe complained. This is what the Rebbe said: “I did something new, instituted something that had never existed before: anyone could go in for yechidus. Bochurim could go in for yechidus. It’s well known that their predecessors generally did not let bochurim go in for yechidus. And I thought a bochur would come in, open up, and I would be able to guide him and educate him. They come in and ask for a brachah. The following year, another brachah. To no purpose,” the Rebbe said. “It’s simply a waste of time.” The Rebbe explicitly said this was one of the reasons he was discontinuing it. So I can’t tell you about yechidus like that. But there were things nonetheless. One of the most wonderful things—I still think about it today. I was six years old, and we went in for yechidus as usual. The Rebbe would test the children. The Rebbe would always test the children on what they were learning. The Rebbe asked me what I was learning. “Parshas Mikeitz,” I said.

1:11:06 Speaker 6 That’s Chanukah.

1:11:07 Speaker 2 Yes. No, Mikeitz as part of starting to learn Chumash. The Rebbe asked me, “Mikeitz what?” I said, “At the end of two full years.” Simple. The Rebbe asked me, “Two years from what?” I was stuck. I don’t know whether it was out of fear, or because I simply didn’t know. The Rebbe looked at me and said, “If you don’t know something, you should ask.” That was it. Seven years later, I went in for my bar mitzvah yechidus. The Rebbe would generally test bar mitzvah boys on the pilpul they had prepared, a pilpul in nigleh. I went in, and the Rebbe asked me, “What did you prepare in nigleh?” A pilpul. Somehow we had been told that when the Rebbe asks, you should start saying it. So I started. It was on the subject of someone who had not worn a tallis with tzitzis, [unclear]. That led into the question of which takes precedence when one thing is frequent and the other is not: the frequent one comes first. I don’t know, I don’t remember exactly, but that’s how I got to “the frequent one comes first.” The Rebbe stopped me. “Why does the frequent one come first?” It wasn’t relevant to the pilpul as a whole.

1:12:54 Speaker 7 The structure of the—

1:12:55 Speaker 2 Yes, it was just a line in it. I didn’t know. I didn’t answer. I said—I think I even said, “I don’t know.” The Rebbe looked at me and said, “Nu, so you simply don’t know. You should ask.” It was as though, with that “nu,” he was saying: I’ve already told you that.

1:13:19 Speaker 7 Six years earlier.

1:13:20 Speaker 2 Seven years earlier. And whenever I think about it, I’m moved: how many thousands of people had passed before the Rebbe, how many important things had happened. A child comes in.

1:13:36 Speaker 7 From [unclear] to [unclear], so many things had happened.

1:13:39 Speaker 2 And the Rebbe remembers. It’s astounding, astounding. It just shows you that every person exists to him. It’s not that you were just one more person. Now, it’s true that when we were little, the crowd was smaller. Maybe, maybe. But that’s so untrue. It remained so until the very last days—not just the last days, but today. Each person exists as an individual, not as part of a group. As an individual. You personally matter to the Rebbe. The Rebbe thinks about you, cares for you, educates you, and values you. Astounding, astounding. Do you want another story like that? Entirely different in character, and it needs a little interpretation. A little interpretation. You simply can’t do without the interpre—otherwise you can’t understand it. This happened in 5731. I was already fourteen. Rebbetzin Nechama Dina passed away.

1:14:53 Speaker 7 The grandmother.

1:14:54 Speaker 2 The Frierdiker Rebbe’s wife, the grandmother. There were no sons, only two sons-in-law, and the older son-in-law was the Rashag. He was left to say Kaddish and lead the davening. So during the shivah, they were in the room—the Frierdiker Rebbe’s room on the second floor.

1:15:19 Speaker 7 That’s where the minyanim were held—

1:15:20 Speaker 2 Yes, yes. Anyway, the Rebbe would join them, as he did for every davening—Minchah and Maariv each day. Instead of going into the zal, the Rebbe would go upstairs and join those minyanim during shivah. When the Rebbe went upstairs, of course there was no problem getting a minyan. But Shacharis? The Rashag wasn’t himself sitting shivah. He ran the yeshivah and had to be at work by nine. So he would daven at seven-thirty. At seven-thirty, in those years, [unclear], the place was empty. There was one minyan at seven-fifteen with a few older men. I don’t know when there was another minyan, apart from the Temimim, who davened later according to the yeshivah schedule. There were fifteen older men who davened at seven-fifteen. Now they needed another minyan. There was none—not even enough people. The bochurim had their scheduled Chassidus study, and there weren’t enough older men. “Tsu shlepn mentshn”—how do you say it? To drag people, to bring people upstairs—it was quite a task. I have to make something clear here: the Rashag was very sociable. He wasn’t the type to say, “I’m the Rebbe’s son-in-law, I’m the Rebbe’s brother-in-law, I’m someone important.”

1:16:57 Speaker 8 He was distinguished, but he was very, very...

1:16:59 Speaker 2 But he was very friendly with the bachurim, and even with children. Why do I emphasize “even with children”? Because we had a particular connection with him. First of all, we would set up his place for davening [unclear]—his chair and shtender. He also had shalosh seudos to take care of. The Frierdiker Rebbe had told him to say a maamar every shalosh seudos. How would he have the strength? So he would prepare a simple shalosh seudos, a third meal. Hungry people would come, and some would stand. Anyone who wanted to eat knew that after Maariv there was shalosh seudos upstairs, on the first floor, in the small room. There was no maamar, but there was challah and herring, and there were also two bottles of soda—what do you call it? Not soda.

1:18:06 Speaker 8 A sweet drink.

1:18:07 Speaker 2 Yes.

1:18:07 Speaker 8 Carbonated.

1:18:08 Speaker 2 Yes. So he kept it at home, and after Minchah someone had to bring it over.

1:18:18 Speaker 8 And the children would go.

1:18:19 Speaker 2 So three or four children would always go up to the third floor, take it out of the refrigerator and bring it down. So he—

1:18:29 Speaker 8 He had a connection with them.

1:18:30 Speaker 2 Yes, he did. And after we brought it, he would give us a cup to drink, too. It was a cup of sweet soda. So we felt comfortable with him. And I don’t know why I decided, but I would help him find a minyan.

1:18:53 Speaker 8 For Shacharis, and—

1:18:54 Speaker 2 For Shacharis, yes. Of course, he wasn’t going to go downstairs looking for people. So I went down. I would arrive at seven fifteen and drag people in. It wasn’t easy. That’s how we davened every day. It was a bare minyan, without any unnecessary fuss. On the last day of shiva, I looked out the window. It was the window near Eastern Parkway. I saw the Rebbe arriving at 770.

1:19:31 Speaker 8 Early. He usually arrived later.

1:19:33 Speaker 2 The Rebbe would usually arrive at ten on Mondays and Thursdays, and on other days sometimes as late as twelve. At a quarter to eight, the Rebbe arrived at 770. Something didn’t add up. I started thinking. I wasn’t familiar with shiva; I didn’t know all the customs about getting up from shiva and so on. But something in my head said it was probably connected. Yes, the last day of shiva—ver veis, who knows? It’s not that I knew, but those were my thoughts. When I came to that conclusion, I started trembling.

1:20:19 Speaker 8 Because the Rebbe was on his way to the room.

1:20:21 Speaker 2 That is, the Rebbe was on his way to the room. Why was I trembling? Because yesterday I’d been thrown out of yeshiva. Now I was a boy who’d been thrown out of yeshiva, a fourteen-year-old who would be called up to the Torah. And I thought to myself: The Rebbe will come in, look at my face, and I’ve been thrown out of yeshiva. How can I have the nerve to look at the Rebbe? You’re practically a criminal, my brother. It was a really frightening moment. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t run away. Why? First of all, I would— And even if I thought the Rebbe would enter the room and I could somehow slip away, I couldn’t, because the Rebbe’s place was in the corner by the door. If I went in or out, I would pass right in front of the Rebbe. I had no choice. I started thinking; at last my head was working. I looked around the room. Maybe there was a corner where I could hide? I found one. The room had bookcases built into it, making the wall thicker, and the doorframes were thicker too. It wasn’t, uh, what do you call it—

1:21:53 Speaker 8 It wasn’t flush.

1:21:53 Speaker 2 The doorframe wasn’t narrow; it was thick. There were four doors, and I saw that behind the Rebbe there was a doorway like that. I could get in there and hide.

1:22:07 Speaker 8 You’d still be in the room, but no one would see you.

1:22:09 Speaker 2 Yes. That’s what I did. I hid. The Rebbe came in. This is what I remember from where I was behind him: I saw the Rebbe open a Tehillim and say Tehillim until they finished davening. When davening ended, the Rebbe turned and said that everyone who had davened with the minyan should go into the other room to comfort the mourners. But he stayed where he was, waiting for everyone to leave. Everyone went out; the Rebbe stayed until last, and it was as though I didn’t exist. So I stood there, hiding. Suddenly the Rebbe left his place, took a few steps toward the middle of the room and turned around. Without seeing the picture, it’s hard to understand, but he pointed a finger in my direction. He didn’t say a word. He just pointed his finger: You, there. And he motioned—

1:23:13 Speaker 8 Come out.

1:23:14 Speaker 2 Get out of there.

1:23:15 Speaker 8 And go.

1:23:16 Speaker 2 He gestured with his hand: Go there.

1:23:19 Speaker 8 Go comfort the mourners.

1:23:20 Speaker 2 Go—

1:23:21 Speaker 8 Like everyone else.

1:23:21 Speaker 2 Come out of that corner and join everyone else. That was my story. I won’t say I understood it on the spot. I was in no state to think. I fled like an arrow. But afterward I thought about what had happened. I saw not only the Rebbe’s concern, but a loving father. The Rebbe sensed that there was a child there, trembling, ashamed, frightened, not knowing what to do, hiding.

1:24:08 Speaker 8 [unclear].

1:24:09 Speaker 2 Hiding, running away. The Rebbe was saying, “Don’t worry. I’ll come and pull you out of the mud, and I’ll show you the right way.” That has stayed with me. It’s hard to express what you feel when you think how much attention the Rebbe gave us. Children—I’m telling stories about children. The Rebbe thought about us, remembered us, knew us. That was our life; that’s what we grew up with. That’s the story.

1:24:50 Speaker 9 If so, Rabbi Katzman, our Sages have already taught us that sometimes one must leave a space between one section and the next. So we’ll stop here, in the middle of the memories and stories, and, with Hashem’s help, continue in the next episode. Next week we’ll continue to relive and be refreshed by the stories and heartfelt chassidic life of connection to the Rebbe of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Katzman. This week’s episode was dedicated in honor of Rebbetzin Mrs. Esther Sarah Nechama bas Rosa Rivka on her birthday. We wish her life, peace, goodness, good news and nachas, with robust health and joy, together with all her descendants and her husband, shlita, amid good news. And may we see each other soon with the Rebbe—Moshiach now.