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 its purpose? 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 Zeidi’s brother, Reb Zushe Wilmowsky, was a young yeshivah student when World War II broke out. At the time, he was learning in Baranovich Yeshivah under Rav Elchonon Wasserman zt”l. He survived the war by joining the Bielski partisans in the forest.
In the DP camps, he was introduced to Chabad chasidus and soon became a fiercely devoted, lifelong chasid 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 Zeidi.
There, my Zeidi 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 brachah for his dying son. The Chofetz Chaim told him to daven for klal Yisrael and then, with the help of Hashem, his son would be healed. Miraculously, Zushe recovered.
The Gemara (B’rachos 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 Zeidi himself was also a talmid of Rav Elchonon 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 Zeidi 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 Zeidi. Having lost my Zeidi when I was eight 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 Schapiro’s Kosher Wines.) The minyan met in the small beis midrash 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 rabbanim.”
What I found most remarkable about his warm description of my Zeidi is that this was during what must have been a very difficult time for him.
I came across a New York Times article dated 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 Zeidi’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 k’hilah he had faithfully led for over two decades was dwindling, my Zeidi was still warm, embracing, engaging, and inspiring in all the ways I remember him.
This week, 27 Cheshvan will mark my Zeidi’s yahrzeit. 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 a blessing.
*****
Dedicated in loving memory of my Zeidi, Rabbi Yaakov Meir Kohn zt”l – Rav Yaakov Meir zt”l ben HaRav Yosef Yitzchak zt”l Hy”d
Rabbi Dani Staum, LMSW, is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbe at Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, NJ. and principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, NY. Rabbi Staum is also a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and at www.strivinghigher.com
