In the years that followed, the series of events that shaped him into the much-beloved “Charlie Buttons” began to unfold. By the mid-1970s, Charlie was attending Jewish singles events in Manhattan. At one such event, a woman from the Chabad-Lubavitch community arrived with Shabbat candle-holders to encourage the young women to light Shabbat candles. Charlie thought it was a great idea to hand them out regularly at these events, and he asked her where he could get more. She directed him to Crown Heights.
Charlie took the subway and ended up meeting Rabbi Kasriel Kastel, program director at the Lubavitch Youth Organization. Rabbi Kastel offered him the opportunity to don tefillin and invited him to attend programs the organization was running. “And that’s how I ended up in Crown Heights,” Charlie recalled decades later.
The Court Jester
In his overalls and large, distinctive yarmulke, Charlie quickly became an icon in Crown Heights, especially in the synagogue at 770 Eastern Parkway, Lubavitch World Headquarters. He became deeply enamored with the Rebbe, who in turn showed him special warmth and affection. Almost every time Charlie passed by the Rebbe, he was greeted with a broad smile and an encouraging wave of the hand.
Charlie’s unique relationship with the Rebbe played out both in public and in private. When receiving kos shel brachah—the traditional wine of blessing from havdallah marking the end of Shabbat or a holiday—Charlie would approach the Rebbe holding three cups instead of the one cup everyone else had. He later explained that the cups represented chochmah, binah and daat—the acronym of Chabad. The Rebbe would patiently pour wine into each of Charlie’s cups, and then swing his hand in encouragement, which would usually send Charlie into a euphoria. He’d dance his way down from the platform where the Rebbe was standing.
There were also private moments. Charlie would sometimes stop the Rebbe on the street for a conversation, though he never revealed what they discussed. On one occasion, after losing his signature yarmulke while swimming in the ocean, he wrote to the Rebbe to share what had happened. According to Charlie, the Rebbe responded by sending him a new one.
That yarmulke played a key role in transforming him into the beloved “Charlie Buttons.” Charlie had a hobby of collecting buttons, which he proudly pinned to his large yarmulke. Many featured logos of Jewish organizations or carried messages encouraging mitzvot like Shabbos or tefillin. Others were rank badges from Tzivos Hashem, Chabad’s children’s organization. It’s no surprise, then, that he earned the nickname Charlie “Buttons”—so much so that most people knew him only by that name.
At some point, Charlie began attending weddings, engagement parties and other celebrations throughout the community, becoming a beloved and unmistakable presence at nearly every simcha in Crown Heights.
For decades, Charlie "Buttons" Nassofer brought joy (and balloons) to countless celebrations in Crown Heights. Courtesy of the Feller family
Bringing Joy to the Community
“At first, I only went to weddings,” he once told an interviewer. “It’s the mitzvah of bringing joy to the bride and groom. Then I thought—why not go to the engagement parties too? That’s also a chance to make them happy. From there, it grew to include brises, shalom zachars, melaveh malkahs—everything.”
And wherever Charlie went, his balloons came with. He’d blow them up and twist into animals and creative shapes that delighted children and, yes, even the adults.
Challenges and Perseverance
At one point Charlie worked at the United States Postal Service, but that job quickly ran into complications. According to Rabbi Ephraim Buchwald, Charlie—who was “exceptionally brilliant” and showed signs of being a savant—figured out how to work with remarkable efficiency, which didn’t sit well with the union. “Reputedly, he lost his job because he figured out how to service one of the large sorting machines in just two hours instead of the usual 18,” said Rabbi Buchwald. “The union accused him of causing other postal workers to lose work.”
Another point of contention was Charlie’s observance of Shabbat, which the USPS was unwilling to accommodate. Over the years, he was hired and fired by the Postal Service four times and spent decades trying to be reinstated.
As an alternative occupation, Rabbi Buchwald taught Charlie how to kosher kitchens. Charlie would carry out this work for anyone who requested Rabbi Buchwald’s help, including in some of Manhattan’s most luxurious homes. “Charlie would show up in his overalls, with his koshering pot and his oversized oven mitts,” Rabbi Buchwald recalls. “He went that way to the homes of those who couldn’t afford to pay, and even billionaires. And no matter who they were, they all grew fond of him.”
Legacy and Character
“Charlie was the epitome of the Talmud’s description of those ‘Who are insulted and do not insult, who hear their shame and do not respond, who act out of love and are joyful in suffering,’” says Nechama Dina Cohen of Beitar, Israel, who spent many a Shabbat meal with him at the home of her grandparents, Rabbi Eliezer and Raizel Zirkind. “Regardless of what anyone would say to him, he always stayed positive, was always happy and smiling, and only saw the positive in everything and everyone.”
“People whispered Charlie was a hidden tzadik—one of the 36 righteous people upon whom the world stands,” writes Rabbi Mordechai Lighstone, Chabad.org’s social-media editor. “I'm not an expert in hidden tzadikim ... but in a way, the joy he brought to others, he was already revealed.”
Excerpted from the current website of Chabad.Org
