“RABBI’S MUSINGS (& AMUSINGS)”
Erev Shabbos Kodesh Parshas Toldos 5785
28 Cheshvan 5785/ November 29, 2024
Mevorchim Chodesh Kislev
Dedicated in loving memory of my Zaydei, Rabbi Yaakov Meir Kohn zt”l, R’
Yaakov Meir zt”l ben Rav Yosef Yitzchak zt”l hy”d
WORLDLY WINDOWS
One morning two summers ago in our bungalow in Camp Dora Golding, my wife
made a rather interesting discovery when she went to wake up our (then)
six-year-old twins. There were a couple of empty Snapple bottles with a bunch
of dead fireflies on the bottom. When she asked the twins to explain, they
replied that they made themselves natural night lights.
No one told them that if the bottle is airtight the fireflies will die….
In Parshas Noach the Torah states that when building the teivah, Noach
was to make a “tzohar”. Rashi offers two explanations of what a tzohar is.
Either a stone that gave off tremendous light or a window. According to the
opinion that it was a window, what was the purpose of it? Why would they need
to see the destruction outside?
While the world was being destroyed, those inside the safety of the
teivah could not forget about the suffering outside. The window symbolized that
one can never ignore the pain and suffering of those outside.
My Zaydei’s brother, Reb Zushe Wilmowsky, was a young yeshiva student
when World War II broke out. At the time he was learning in Baranovich Yeshiva
under Rav Elchanan Wasserman zt”l. He survived the war by joining the Bielski
partisans in the forest.
In the DP camps he was introduced to Chabbad chassidus and soon became a
fiercely devoted lifelong chossid of the Lubavitcher Rebbe zt”l. In later years
the rebbe would affectionately refer to Reb Zushe as “mein partisan”.
Chabad published a book about Rav Zushe entitled “the Partisan” which
includes some reflections written by my Zaydei.
There my Zaydei writes that when Reb Zushe was three years old, he was
gravely ill. The most qualified doctors in Vilna gave up hope for his recovery.
His father, Rav Yosef Yitzchak zt”l, Rav of Selz, traveled to the Chofetz
Chaim to request a beracha for his dying son. The Chofetz Chaim told him to
daven for Klal Yisroel and then, with the help of Hashem, his son would be
healed. Miraculously, Zushe recovered.
The Gemara (Berachos 30a) says that one should always include the public
in his own prayers. Rashi explains that doing so will help his prayers be
accepted in heaven. It is possible that this was the rationale behind the
instruction the Chofetz Chaim gave my great-grandfather.
My Zaydei himself was also a talmid of Reb Elchanan in Baranovich and a
talmid of Rav Aharon Kotler in Kletzk. He too escaped the Nazis by surviving
with a group of partisans. He married my Bubby in Samarkand, Uzbekistan, and
they arrived in New York after the war.
My Zaydei became the Rabbi of the stately and distinguished Slonimer shul
on the Lower East Side in 1949. The shul was located in a magnificent building
with hundreds of seats. He remained the Rabbi until the shul’s closing in 1974.
Last year I received an email from someone who saw an article I had
written about my Zaydei. Having lost my Zaydei when I was 8 years old, and
always wishing I knew him more and had the chance to learn from and with him
more, this was an extremely meaningful email to receive:
“I met your grandfather in 1972, shortly after my wife and I married and
moved into the Grand Street co-ops on the Lower East Side. While exploring the
neighborhood, we came upon the Slonimer shul, as it was called, and I met Rabbi
Kohn, who was still struggling to keep a minyan going on Shabbos. (As I recall
Rabbi Kohn was also working at that time as the mashgiach for Shapiro’s Wines.)
The minyan met in the small beis medrash downstairs, since it was impossible to
keep the huge upstairs shul going. The minyan was a very motley crew of poor
people, old people, “characters”, and, then me (also a “character” I guess).
“Your grandfather took care of everyone with great respect and warmth.
Nothing was beneath him in terms of shepherding this remnant. My wife and I
were welcomed into his home and the rebbetzin, your grandmother, was always
gracious and happy to see us. For a while we even became a chavrusa together,
learning gemara on Shabbos afternoons. He was well respected in the
general community and among the other rabbonim.”
What I found most remarkable about his warm description of my Zaydei is
that this was during what must have been a very difficult time for him.
I came across a New York Times article from March 19, 1974, entitled
“Despair fills Lower East Side Synagogues”. The article described a tour of the
East Side synagogues. By that time, many of the once proud and
packed-to-capacity structures had floundering memberships, some had even
shuttered their doors completely. It included a description of my Zaydei’s
shul: “The tour bus stopped outside the Beth Haknesseth Anshe Slonim, at 172
Norfolk Street, but the rabbi had told Professor Wolfe that he was too embarrassed
by the destruction to admit visitors. “In the past year and a half the
synagogue has been severely vandalized by the community,” said Professor Wolfe.
“Every stained-glass window has been broken. They stole the pipes two weeks
ago. The next time you pass here it may be a parking lot.”
The shul indeed was abandoned that year. (It was purchased a few years
later by Spanish artist and sculptor Angel Orensanz who refurbished the
building.)
It was amazing to me that even as the Shul and Kehila he had faithfully
led for over two decades was dwindling, my Zaydei was still warm, embracing,
engaging and inspiring in all the ways I remember him.
This week, 27 Cheshvan will mark the yahrtzeit of my Zaydei. It never
ceases to amaze me how much I miss him and how much he remains my foremost role
model in life. He went through so much loss and challenge during his life, yet
he was always so warm and friendly and always seemed so happy. His love to
learn and teach Torah remained with him literally until the moment he died. In
fact, he died with a volume of Gemara left open.
He was a person who brought light to others and was a source of blessing
to all who knew him. I and many others still benefit from that light even now, 37
years after his passing.
May his memory be for a blessing.
Shabbat Shalom
& Good Shabbos,
R’ Dani and
Chani Staum
Strivinghigher.com