The Short Vort
Good Morning!
Today is Thursday the 10
th
of Sivan 5778 and May 24
th,
2018
Dedicated to the Memory of Mrs. Aliza Grund A”H
Last week on Erev Shabbos Klal Yisroel lost a most cherished and devoted
askanis.
On Friday, Mrs. Aliza Grund passed away at the age of 70.
Her name was associated for years as a member of the Presidium of N’shei Agudas Yisroel of America.
She did a great deal for the Tzibbur in her role at the N’shei, and she helped countless individuals through her organizational involvement and perhaps even more in her personal participation in countless acts of Chessed to so many people.
Indeed, over the years our paths crossed, whether it was for a communal issue which she was dealing with or about a Shidduch, which she was involved in.
However, in truth, already when I was a little boy and throughout my childhood and young adulthood, the name of Aliza Grund was always heard in my home.
In fact, her name was mentioned so often by my mother and especially my father, I thought she must be related to us.
The reason for the constant mention of her name was that my father Z”L, being a Yerushalmi born Sabra, would do his best to travel with the entire family to Eretz Yisroel as frequently as possible.
Being that my mother A”H worked for the public school system, as soon as summer vacation would begin I can still hear my mother say, “Moshe, it’s time to call you friend Aliza!”
Besides her competency which she always displayed in dealing with my father and his travel plans, the fact that she was also born in Tel-Aviv was considered by my father as a sign of additional ableness in being to ensure a successful trip.
I recall years later when she called me from her office at the Agudah to discuss a communal issue, I said with a feeling of genuine astonishment, “Wait, Is the famous Mrs. Aliza Grund I am speaking to?
The one who personally for years took care of all of my father’s travel plans?”
When she asked me who my father was, I told her his name was Moshe Eisenman and that he was no longer among the living. I can still hear the sadness in her voice when I told her the news. And I can even recall fondly how appreciative and how admiringly she spoke about my father. I felt as if he was her only client! Little did I realize the extent of her proficiency and expertise in the travel world and in the Jewish communal world in general.
When I heard of her passing, I felt as if I had lost a real old friend of the family.
Another reason, besides my father’s passion for traveling that I felt as if a family friend has passed, is because her brother Rav Shlomo Besser Sh’yichye is a dear and close friend of mine.
And her nephew, Rav Yisroel (R’ Sruli) Besser is my mentor, friend, and personal coach as I write for Mishpacha Magazine.
As only Hashem could devise and plan things, this week’s column “happened” to be about Mrs. Aliza Grund’s father, Rabbi Chaskel Besser Zt”L who passed away in 2010.
It is a fitting tribute to him and to his dear, beloved daughter Mrs. Aliza Grund A”H to whom I devote this edition of the Short Vort.
R’ Chaskel and Hat in Hand
The Langer boys (name changed) had lost their father one year before.
This Shabbos was his first Yahrtzeit.
In the West Side Shteibel, they davened in, their father was the first of the American born Mispallelim to pass away.
He was one of the founders of the Minyan and had davened there for twenty years.
Everyone in the Shul knew and loved him, and he was an integral part of the Minyan.
For his first Yahrtzeit, his boys were sponsoring the Kiddush in honor of their father.
Back then- in the early seventies- almost every over 50 in the Shul was a survivor and had multiple Yahrtzeits for relatives lost in the war.
Therefore, quite often there were multiple Yahrtzeits every week.
The accepted practice was that whoever was making the Kiddush and had a Yahrtzeit for a parent (as opposed to a more distant relative) took priority.
The “secondary Yahrtzeit” would squeeze into the back of the Shteibel to make their own minyan; while those making the Kiddush davened in the Main part of the Shul.
The Langer boys, ages 19, 15 and 13 were expecting to receive the honor of davening in the Main Minyan as they were sponsoring the Kiddush in recognition of their father who was a beloved and cherished active member of the Shteibel.
Their father wasn’t an anonymous relative who had been killed in the war which no one in the Shul knew personally; their father was one of the Chevra; one of the regulars and everyone loved and respected him.
Being this was their father’s first Yahrtzeit, the boys were sure that proper protocol would be followed and they would receive the honor of davening Mussaf in his honor.
Yet, sometimes even the best-laid plans go awry and for some oversight, without any intentional ill-will, and without anyone wanting to cause pain, somehow the Langer boys suddenly found themselves shoved to the back of the Shul having to make due with an ad-hoc Minyan hurriedly collected for them.
They were squeezed into the back of the Shteibel half in and half out of the actual Shul.
The boys were shocked and humiliated.
The older Langer boy was beside himself with pain and stormed out; his brothers followed his lead, and they too exited the Shul before the Kiddush they were sponsoring had begun.
Ironically, as the men sat down to consume the Kugel and hungrily heap herring on their securely held Kichel, the sponsors of the Kiddush were nowhere to found!
The boys were painfully making their way back home as they bravely held back the tears as what they perceived as an insult to the memory of their beloved father at the occasion of his first Yahrtzeit.
Their pain and hurt was palpable and real,
About an hour after being home in their fifth-floor apartment they heard a rare knock on the door.
On the West Side of Manhattan- certainly back then- as everyone there lived in apartment houses, it was rare to go visiting someone on Shabbos afternoon.
Indeed, to hear a knock on your door on Shabbos afternoon was as rare a serving Matjes herring without onions; it just wasn’t done.
To reach someone’s apartment, you would have to schlep up multiple flights- sometimes as many as seven or eight trips, and if the building had no doorman, there was no guarantee that you would even obtain entry into the apartment house.
So, therefore, visits from anyone on Shabbos day was just not done.
The entire Langer family was shocked and surprised as they heard knocking at their door.
The boys ran to open the door.
Standing there, out of breath from hiking up the five long flights was none other than the Rav of the Shul.
He had climbed the stairs to personally apologize to the boys for the unintended, but, a nevertheless painful insult they suffered that morning.
The boys were astounded; here was the Rav, who was no youngster–who had arrived “hat in hand”-, and climbed all the way up for the sole purpose to appease and apologize to the boys for the slight to their father.
The boys were astonished and moved by his humility; after all, he was not even involved in the sudden change of venue of the ‘second minyan’; he was just as surprised as the boys themselves; nevertheless, he came to apologize.
Yet, this was not your regular Shul Rav.
The Rav of the Shul was not even a paid rabbi; in fact, in all the years he served as the Rav of the prestigious West Side Shteibel he never took a salary.
Nevertheless, he had seen enough suffering in his life- from his own birthplace in Katowice, Poland where he lived until the Nazis destroyed his world- to know that when orphans are in pain, a Yid responds, even if he is not responsible for that hurt.
And as he stood at the door, with ultimate self-effacement and humility he apologized and appeased the young boys for the unintended pain they suffered.
The Langer boys never forgot the enormity of that momentous apology by the Rav of their Shul.
Indeed, it left such an impression that one of the Langer boys- years later as an adult- publicly related this incident, as it made him realize what true Kavod HaTorah is.
The name of the Rav of the Shul was Rabbi Chaskel Besser Zt”L; a beloved
askan
for Klal Yisroel and a man who is remembered by legions of Jews as a man who sacrificed much of his life for the sake of his fellow Jews.
The true giants of our nation are the ones whose greatness is epitomized by the magnitude of their humility.
His son in Rav Shlomo Besser Shlita who now occupies his father’s position as Rav of the Shteibel and during the week is my beloved neighbor in Passaic.
His grandson, Rabbi Sruli Besser is now a dear and beloved friend of mine; a great writer in his own right.
R’ Sruli is a man who undoubtedly learned the trait of humility from his beloved grandfather and continues his grandfather’s legacy by continuing to contribute to the Klal without looking for accolades or praise.
His beloved daughter, Mrs. Aliza Grund A”H no doubt also absorbed the trait of humility and of sacrificing on behalf of the Klas as she, in her own right, was involved in countless acts of Chessed, done for free and without any thought of financial reimbursement.
May her family be consoled among the mourners of Yerushalayim and Tzion.
“If Not Now, Then When?”- Hillel
Ron Yitzchok Eisenman, Rabbi, Congregation Ahavas Israel, Passaic, NJ
