The Simchas Torah Events of 5738 - Rabbi Tuvia Zilberstrom shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You are listening to the “Lema’an Yishme’u” podcast from Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 One Simchas Torah was etched into the annals of chassidim: Simchas Torah, Shemini Atzeres 5738. They had announced in advance—Rabbi Groner came into the shul and asked for order. But everything was always beyond the natural order, beyond any set order. They asked people to be more careful that day and to keep things more orderly, but the announcement remained just an announcement. On the eve of Simchas Torah, the Rebbe distributed honey cake as usual, [unclear] [?] to the guests who had arrived after Erev Yom Kippur, as well as to the women and girls of Chabad. Just as the Rebbe was nearly finished, someone else arrived, and the line grew longer and longer. The Rebbe continued distributing lekach for hours beyond the usual time that evening. [unclear] A short while later, the Rebbe went home and returned for the night of Shemini Atzeres. As we said, there had been announcements that things should be more orderly, but the Rebbe came in as usual and conveyed that it was business as usual. In the middle of hakafos, the Rebbe clapped a little more weakly. Then the Rebbe turned, leaned his hands on the lectern, and asked for his chair. The Rebbe always stood throughout hakafos and the prayers. He hardly ever sat during prayers or the Torah reading; at farbrengens, the Rebbe sat, and during the chazzan’s repetition in Shabbos prayers and Mincha prayers. But not during hakafos or the Torah reading. So the Rebbe asked for the chair, sat down, and leaned back in it. Leaning back in the chair was also unusual for him, and the Rebbe held his hand over his heart. There was a great commotion, and those who understood grasped what was happening. The shul always needed more air—it is on the ground floor—and people were asked to leave. The crowd left the shul amid some commotion. The only source of outside air in the downstairs shul was on the women’s section level, facing

03:21 Speaker 2 Eastern Parkway, where there are windows facing the street. First they opened those windows, since the air conditioning was running. They also removed the windows separating the shul from the women’s section, another barrier, so that a little air could get in. This made some noise, so much so that the Rebbe turned and gestured with his hand: “What is all this noise?” Meanwhile, the Rebbe sat in the chair, and the shul had emptied of almost all the thousands who had been there. Of course, we had to leave the shul, but at a moment like that, if I wasn’t the only one staying, who could leave? A hundred, perhaps a hundred and fifty people remained. Rabbi Klein stood beside the Rebbe the whole time, and others came over, doctors and so on. After some time, when the shul had more air, the Rebbe stood up. We learned afterward what condition he was in. Of course, a bochur did not understand much about these things—that the Rebbe had suffered a heart attack right there in the shul, after feeling unwell during the day and, in fact, for several days before. But the Rebbe never let the physical world dictate things—not that night, not before, and not afterward, as we know from what happened later. To illustrate, I’ll tell a story: near [unclear] Chaim Saban [?] there was a building, the library, and later a dentist had an office there. Once, in early Cheshvan, the Rebbe went to that dentist to have a tooth extracted. Looking at the tooth, the dentist asked the Rebbe, “You must have been in a great deal of pain.” The Rebbe said, “That’s right.” “That means at least two weeks of pain.” The Rebbe said, “That’s right.” “Why didn’t you come earlier?” The Rebbe said, “I was busy. There were guests, and there was Simchas Torah, Shabbos, farbrengens,

05:46 Speaker 2 and yechidus.” Only after the Rebbe had finished the work of Tishrei did he go to have the tooth treated and extracted. Even on Simchas Torah, he did not go to rest. He came to do hakafos; everything went on as usual. But when the Rebbe rose from his chair, he looked around and gestured with his hands: What was all this noise and commotion? The Rebbe said to continue hakafos. People did not understand, because they thought either the Rebbe should leave or they needed to help him out of the shul. The Rebbe insisted on staying where he was and said to continue hakafos. So that is what they did. They took out the Torah scrolls and continued hakafos, moving quickly. The Rebbe clapped along to the niggunim of [unclear] [?], more weakly and looking paler. Then came the seventh hakafah, when the Rebbe himself was to make the circuit, and he would not forgo it. They suggested doing the hakafah beside the Rebbe, on his platform. The Rebbe did not agree. He wanted everything to be business as usual: to hold the Torah scroll by himself, even though they wanted to help him, and to go down and back up the stairs—one of the greatest dangers in the medical condition he was in. The Rebbe went down, walked with the Torah scroll, and reached the center of the shul. When the crowd had left, there were traces of mashke that people had taken before hakafos, and of what had come back up afterward. A chossid, Rabbi Lipsker, ran to the center of the shul and took off his yarmulke to wipe it up, but that was not enough; there was too much. That day I had put a towel inside my prayer lectern, so I ran past the Rebbe to the lectern. With everyone running, nobody knew what anyone was running for. But I took

08:11 Speaker 2 the towel, and it was enough to clean the spot where the Rebbe would do the hakafah. The Rebbe would not forgo it and came down with the Torah scroll. He was so pale and moved so slowly. The Rebbe asked for—together with the Rashag—and just as we mentioned, he held the Torah scroll on his right side, took care in moving it to his left, placed his hand on the Rashag, and slowly made the circuit. As during ordinary hakafos, he still looked out at the whole crowd and, with a motion of his head—though every movement had to be limited—encouraged the people to dance. But inside, our hearts were gripped by fear and trembling. When the Rebbe finished the hakafah, they asked the Rashag to indicate that he could not go on, and he made a gesture that he could not continue. The Rebbe returned, and they wanted to take the Torah scroll, but he would not agree. They lowered the lectern so that the Rebbe would not have to climb the stairs again. No. The Rebbe handed over the Torah scroll and went back up to say Aleinu. Everything was business as usual. The Rebbe said, “A gut Yom Tov,” and began “Vesamachta Bechagecha.” Everything was as usual, despite all the limitations. Afterward the Rebbe left, walking with his heavy siddur and all his things. He did not let anyone walk alongside him except the gabbaim and secretaries, and I joined them afterward as he went up those steep stairs, which even today are hard for a young person to climb. The Rebbe would not forgo it; he climbed those steep stairs with all his things. He reached his room and continued with his usual gestures, encouraging the children and adults singing “Vesamachta Bechagecha,” the niggun of [unclear] [?]. I think it was “Vesamachta Bechagecha.” But when the Rebbe entered his room, he closed the door, and everyone waited outside. For minutes—minutes that felt like an eternity—the Rebbe was inside the room, and on the way

10:40 Speaker 2 Usually, after hakafos, the children would stand outside. The Rebbe would come out, they would sing a hakafos niggun or “Vesamachta Bechagecha,” and the Rebbe would head home. That was in the usual years. This time, many long minutes passed. People knew the Rebbe wasn’t feeling so well, and he did not come outside. I was inside, near the Rebbe’s room. Apparently, I was among the few who went upstairs from those who had been downstairs; not everyone went up, but I was among those who followed the Rebbe upstairs. The tension among the people upstairs was tremendous. The Rebbe did not open the door. They tried to open it, but it was locked. Everyone was frightened, their hearts pounding and their minds racing, and they knocked on the door. Rabbi Bistritzky was there by the door, along with Rabbi Groner and others, but the door was not opened. Anyone can imagine what the people there were thinking. The Rebbe wasn’t opening the door for anyone, and they didn’t know quite what to do. I remember two things. First, the Frierdiker Rebbe’s eldest daughter, Chana Gourary, came. She knocked on the door, and the Rebbe did not answer her either. The knocking grew louder, and she called the Rebbe by name. She called him by name and said, “Open the door.” They had tried everything before that, but nothing had worked. Then the Rebbe opened the door. When he opened it, some people went in. Why hadn’t the Rebbe opened the door? He had simply been sitting and massaging his heart, and he wanted to take care of himself. The Rebbe didn’t need anyone to teach him how to take care of himself. That was what he was doing, and he was resting. Then people went in, including doctors. There was some debate about whether to tell the Rebbetzin, but I remember that she arrived, and Halberstam,

13:24 Speaker 2 Chesed Halberstam, supported her from behind, holding both her arms, and went in with her to the Rebbe. The Rebbe told her, “I’m a little tired. I stood all day handing out lekach. And during Sukkos, one doesn’t sleep in the sukkah, but one can’t sleep outside the sukkah either.” So for seven days, the Rebbe had not rested even during the few hours he normally rested, and he had grown tired over the course of the day. The Rebbe said, “I’ll rest a little, and soon we’ll go home.” Dr. Zelikson, who was there outside the door and also went in, suggested that the Rebbe put a square of chocolate under his tongue, which might help revive him. The Rebbe said to him, “Before Kiddush, how can one have such a thing?” The Rebbe did use squares of chocolate, but before Kiddush, he couldn’t. I won’t recount every step of what happened. When they brought the Rebbe something for Kiddush, he said, “How can one do it outside the sukkah?” There were a few other things like that. Later, when they brought the Rebbe something to taste, he agreed because he wanted to go home, but they absolutely would not let him. Then the Rebbe said, “Only inside the sukkah.” They brought grape juice, and the Rebbe said, “Grape juice? Do you make Kiddush on grape juice?” So he asked them to bring him wine. Even in that very difficult condition, the Rebbe specifically made Kiddush on wine and tasted a little. As I recall, he also drank a little orange juice. When the Rebbe went out to the sukkah, the large crowd was overjoyed to see him come out of his room. Everyone danced, and the Rebbe motioned to them with his hand. What’s more, when the Rebbe came back—I was standing outside too, and we were singing—the Rebbe motioned with his hand. He was very pale, but he encouraged us with his hand many times, to the singing of “Vesamachta Bechagecha.” The same thing happened when the Rebbe returned from the sukkah.

15:46 Speaker 2 We were also inside 770. I didn’t go out, because I knew that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to get back in. So we waited until the Rebbe returned from the sukkah. People sang, the Rebbe encouraged them, and he went back into his room. The Rebbetzin was there, along with others, and there was a very serious discussion about taking the Rebbe to a hospital. It has been recorded that the Rebbe would not agree to that under any circumstances, so they set up a hospital in his room. They brought in machines and connected the electricity. I remember who did what and how they brought all the necessary equipment into the Rebbe’s room. These things have been recorded, but perhaps we’ll return to a few points. The doctors were very worried about what would happen as the night went on. And what they feared did happen: at one point, the Rebbe suffered another heart attack. It was very, very dangerous. His entire holy body shook, and it took a long time, with injections, to get him to sleep despite the pain so that he could rest. It was a very tense night. A minyan led by Rabbi Yoel Kahn went to the Ohel to daven. The rabbis came out and said, “Daven, because the situation is very, very dangerous.” I can tell you personally that when I came down, left the alleyway and headed toward the large hall, Temimim were sitting there saying Tehillim. I started too, but in my state of mind I couldn’t manage it. We knew that the Rebbe davened for us, and for us to—simple Jews did say Tehillim, but it was very hard. I met a friend of mine, now well known as one of the great disseminators of Chassidus in the last generation, Rabbi Dovid Feldman, may he be well. He writes Toras Menachem, preserving all the Rebbe’s teachings for us and for future generations. He first began gathering all the Rebbe’s sichos in the summer of 5766, and they presented them to the Rebbe on Erev Rosh Hashanah 5777. The Rebbe’s response was, “Where is volume one?” So they made volume one, and the rest

18:30 Speaker 2 is history: all the volumes of Toras Menachem that we have, thanks to the devoted team that does all the work. I met him and said, “Dovid, [unclear], what happens now?” He told me, “Look, whenever there has been concealment in Lubavitch, a greater revelation has followed. That was how it was on 19 Kislev, and on 12 Tammuz. You’ll see that after this Simchas Torah, too, there will be great revelations.” That was the feeling of a chossid, a Tomim who had not lost hope. It was as though prophecy had been placed in him about all the revelations we would have afterward, after 5748. But let’s return to that Simchas Torah of 5748. During that night, people davened, and by morning there was a turning point. Toward morning, things became a little better. It is known that the Rebbe had already [unclear], and afterward he held a sefer and made little jumps in bed. These things are recorded in books, but let’s talk now about Shemini Atzeres and Simchas Torah. On Yom Tov, the Rebbe asked, in general, that people increase the dancing and rejoicing, because it gave him more life and more joy. Toward the end of Simchas Torah, there was an announcement. First, the Rebbe called Rabbi Groner and told him what to convey on his behalf at the farbrengen—the point he should make there. Rabbi Yoel repeated it and explained the point the Rebbe had told him. These things have been recorded. But near the end, the Rebbe said there would be another announcement before bentching. Rabbi Groner came and announced that the Rebbe would speak after Maariv; there would be a sicha from the Rebbe. All the tension that had built up since the night of Shemini Atzeres, over those forty-eight hours, those forty hours, burst out at once. Everything was dancing—the people, the tables, the benches. They sang the hakafos niggun again, knowing that, with Hashem’s help, they were going to hear the Rebbe once more.

21:02 Speaker 2 The Rebbe’s farbrengen, which in practice consisted of a sicha and a maamar—that was the whole story of the night after Simchas Torah. We have what was written down, but we had been connected to the Rebbe’s room even before that. So even then, we learned halachos from observing the Rebbe and how he conducted himself in his room. Before the Rebbe began the farbrengen with the chassidim, he asked for his hat, his sirtuk, and his gartel. I heard the Rebbe say it. By the way, you can learn a law about getting dressed from that. There is a dispute among the halachic authorities about which part of the body you dress first: do you put on your shirt or your trousers first? When the Rebbe asked for his clothes—and this is the custom among chassidim—he asked first for his hat, then his sirtuk, then his gartel. We heard that on the broadcast before the Rebbe began the farbrengen on the night after Simchas Torah. The sicha that night was supposed to be brief: the doctor had given the Rebbe permission to speak for three minutes, but the Rebbe spoke for close to twenty. Afterward, the Rebbe thanked the doctor for not stopping him. The doctor asked the Rebbe, “Have you told the chassidim everything you wanted to say?” The Rebbe replied, “That I will never finish.” And we are all waiting for “a new Torah shall come forth from Me,” because the Rebbe said he would never finish. The Rebbe announced that he could not send the chassidim home without receiving them and seeing them. Later, on Rosh Chodesh Kislev, the Rebbe came outside and appeared again before all the chassidim. Until then he had been—but he said he would receive the guests on two nights

23:25 Speaker 2 of yechidus. The Rebbe sat in a chair, and everyone passed by him for yechidus. I think the Rebbe also gave a dollar for tzedakah to each of those who were going home. I’m not sure, but everyone passed by the Rebbe for yechidus. Now I’ll confess to a bit of mischief: I didn’t wait until Rosh Chodesh Kislev. An opportunity came up, and there was a discussion about whether it was right to pass by the Rebbe and then leave—the main thing was to see the Rebbe again. But only those going home were meant to pass by; we couldn’t burden the Rebbe any further. Still, nobody wanted to leave the seminary. So I put my mind to work and went from building to building until I reached the roof of the seminary, where there was a window through which I could see the Rebbe. I recited Shehecheyanu, with the Divine Name and kingship, upon seeing the Rebbe on the night after Simchas Torah and the day after Simchas Torah. I didn’t wait until Rosh Chodesh Kislev, and I wasn’t the only one. Other Temimim and I saw the Rebbe every few days. I’ll add something: how much the Rebbe rested, we really don’t know. But while the Rebbe was in his room, from Simchas Torah until Rosh Chodesh Kislev, we had a chance to follow a little of his daily schedule. I want to say that the light in the room was off for three quarters of an hour during the night. That’s what we saw of the rest the Rebbe was supposed to be getting in the period between Simchas Torah and Rosh Chodesh Kislev. Perhaps I’ll add a personal story. At the beginning of Cheshvan, I received a letter that I had to deliver to the Rebbe. Why? There was a birth in the family: a woman was about to give birth, and they asked me to bring a letter to the Rebbe. It was one in the morning, everything was closed, and the Rebbe was in the seminary. The Rebbe had asked that there be no barriers or restrictions. In practice, during the day the boys learned in the small zal. They were no longer

25:53 Speaker 2 talking about the beis midrash downstairs. But at night, when there were no study sessions, they wanted at least the upper floor to be a place where the Rebbe could rest more normally, without all the noise and activity of the seminary. Later at night, they also tried to keep things quiet downstairs. During the day, the Rebbe wouldn’t allow restrictions. Once they put some kind of table outside near the seminary, and the Rebbe immediately asked them to remove it. “I don’t want any barriers. Everything should go on as usual.” But at one in the morning I received this letter to deliver to the Rebbe. Well, at six in the morning I decided it was already possible to bring him a letter. That was the accepted time. I came to the seminary, but it was shut tight. Normally, you would go to the secretariat and pass along a letter for the Rebbe. During that month, though, the secretary would open the window facing the courtyard, where the sukkah was, and letters were passed to the secretariat through there. They didn’t go in from the other side, where the doctors were coming and going and where the Rebbetzin was—I saw her often. So at six in the morning I tried my luck. The seminary’s main entrance was locked, and the secretariat windows were closed. I tried to get in through the seminary’s large hall. Of course, it was locked too, but I found an opening and got inside. The beis midrash was empty. We were already on winter time, and sunrise wasn’t until seven-thirty. I walked through the seminary almost entirely alone. The door to the upper floor was open, so I went up and opened it. Nobody was there. I saw that they had laid down carpets at night to keep the noise down. It was silent, everything was empty, and I walked along in the morning and entered the secretariat. That was empty too; no one was there. But I could see that the door to the Rebbe’s room was slightly open. Well,

28:23 Speaker 2 I waited in the secretariat for someone to come. I waited ten minutes. The doctors were around. The arrangement was that Rabbi Groner was there for half the night and Rabbi Klein for the other half. There was a bed in the library where they could rest, but nobody was there. The Rebbe’s room, though, was full of activity. But what business did I have there? I didn’t even go near it. I waited ten minutes in the secretariat, put the letter among the other letters, and was about to leave. Just then Rabbi Groner, a"h, came into the secretariat, his eyes wide with alarm. What was a fellow doing there in the middle of the night—and in the secretariat, where all the personal questions and answers were kept? I told him, “I brought a letter for the Rebbe.” “At this hour?” “Yes.” He said, “It’s good that you brought the letter. Where is it?” I told him I’d already put it in the letter box. “All right, give it to me.” I took out the letter and handed it to him. He said, “I’m going in to give it to the Rebbe now.” He left me alone in the secretariat again and went into the Rebbe’s room. A minute later he came out smiling and said, “I’ve already given it to the Rebbe.” I said to Rabbi Groner, “I know you don’t talk about these things, but I’m not leaving the secretariat now.” “Why?” “Because you told me it was good that I brought the letter for the Rebbe. What was so good about bringing it at six in the morning?” He smiled. I said, “Rabbi Groner, I’m staying here until you tell me.” So he said, “Well, since you’re asking: I was attending to the Rebbe, and the Rebbe told me, ‘Go outside and see whether someone has just brought a letter requesting a brocha.’” After that, I went to the secretariat every hour to ask whether the call had come with the good news of the birth. Of course, when the news arrived,

30:23 Speaker 2 I said, “Well, I have to arrange a Mi Shebeirach.” So, at the beginning of Cheshvan, I had the privilege of being part of the small minyan for the Rebbe’s Torah reading. I was even given hagbah. There was no sleeping or slumbering, with the heart, with the sound—[unclear]. The machine that displayed the heart’s activity was inside the Rebbe’s room. The doctors had a problem: the Rebbe understood too much about medicine, and he could see his heartbeat on the monitor. So the doctors decided they couldn’t leave it in the room and moved it out to Gan Eden Hatachton. The machine was connected by a wire, like most machines were, running from the machine to the Rebbe’s heart. But that was bothersome. Then they brought in a new machine costing thousands of dollars—one of the first wireless devices. Its sensor rested near the Rebbe’s heart, while the machine was outside. I began to walk around and look a little, watching the Rebbe’s movements and what appeared on the machine.