The flight to Philadelphia had barely cleared the runway in Portland when I took out my book, put on my headphones and played the tape Rabbi Choni Vogel had sent me to help me study for my haftorah. I couldn't help but smile as I heard his first few words, "Okay Shloma Yakov, here is the tape, I am sure you are going to be FANTASTIC!"
Fantastic indeed. I had been studying for six months and no matter how much I tried, I simply could not retain the melodies. Six months before, I had made a mitzva pledge to chant the haftora that I should have presented at my bar mitzva 33 years earlier. Back then, I was such a poor Hebrew school student that my teacher Rabbi Lapidus had wisely limited my role to a morning aliya and leading the afternoon service later that day. And even that had been an enormous challenge.
Trying to Find an Excuse to Get Me Off the Hook
Of course, life had changed since I discovered Chabad, and reciting the haftorah of my youth had seemed like a great idea. But now it was almost "game time" and I simply was not ready. Even as I was practicing on the plane, I was trying to find an excuse to get me off the hook. I was desperate to avoid looking foolish in front of friends and family.
As I sat in my seat wallowing in self-doubt an elderly woman strolled past, looked at my open book with the Hebrew writing, looked at me and then kept walking. Repeating this procedure for the better part of a half hour, she finally stopped in front of me. She said, "It isn't often you see someone reading from a Hebrew book on an airplane. What are you reading?" I explained that I was practicing for my haftorah.
She smiled and sat down in the seat next to mine and proceeded to tell me her life story. She was a retired Jewish doctor living in Los Angeles and she and her husband were on their way to Philadelphia to see their son. After a little while she walked back to her seat.
Her Husband Gave Me an Old Newspaper Article to Read
Several minutes later her husband sat down next to me. He pulled an old newspaper article from his jacket pocket and gave it to me to read. He explained that the photo in the article was of his cousin's school class back in Hungary during World War II. He pointed to his cousin and said he was the only member of the class that had escaped when the Nazis invaded his village. He thought since I was studying for my haftorah I would appreciate reading the article.
The story moved me but I was mystified why he thought it had a connection to my haftorah. When the plane landed, the doctor and her husband said goodbye.
After picking up my luggage, I started driving toward Chabad of Delaware, where Rabbi Vogel's second son Areleh was soon to celebrate his Bar Mitzva. As I crossed the state line into Delaware I could almost smell the aroma of the Rebbetzin's mouth-watering kugel cooking in the oven!
The next evening was Shabbat and it got off to a joyous start as friends and family from around the world prayed, ate, laughed and sang together. On Shabbat morning, Areleh made us all proud leading the services, reading from the Torah and chanting a magnificent haftorah.
When services were over the celebration began in earnest. After more food, and of course more kugel than I could eat, a full-fledged "farbrengen" began. Each participant shared insights and wisdom about the Torah portion, the responsibilities a boy assumes upon becoming Bar Mitzva and discussions of spirituality and commitment.
Recalling a Miraculous Escape from the Nazis on the Last Boat Out of Calais
Midway through the festivities Rabbi Vogel cajoled his father, Reb Noson Vogel, to recount his miraculous escape from the Nazis, on the last boat out of Calais, France. Rabbi Vogel described how, on that fateful day, which "coincidentally" was exactly 61 years to the day of Areleh's Bar Mitzva, his sister had convinced a guard to let the family secretly scale the wall of the ship and board before it sailed out of port. In the end they were four of the less than seven hundred souls who finally escaped from the clutches of Hitler's henchmen that day.
He explained that only through G-d's blessing did he and his family escape the hands of the Nazis and how he had dedicated his life to foiling Hitler's ultimate plan by promoting and supporting Jewish education throughout the world. Rabbi Vogel established the Lubavitch Boys High School and eventually the Lubavitch Yeshiva in London, which sends to communities around the world hundreds of boys who are involved in Jewish outreach. He said that with every mitzva performed, and with every Jewish boy or girl educated, we ensure that the Jewish people survive and thrive in the post Hitler world.
Realized that Learning the Haftorah was More Important than I Had Imagined
When Shabbat was over and it was time to return to Oregon, I returned with a passion burning in my heart. When I first started this journey I was fearful of "looking foolish" in front of my friends. After meeting the couple on the plane and then listening to Reb Vogel's words of inspiration, I realized that learning and chanting the haftorah was more important than I had ever imagined.
I realized that no matter the final melodic quality of my haftorah, it was imperative to complete it. For every note of my haftorah and the millions that others have and will chant, serve to remind us that despite the evil intent of the Hamens and the Hitlers of history, the spirit of the Jewish people still burns brightly throughout the world.
As I sat back in my seat I couldn't help but marvel at hearing two such painful, yet inspiring stories over the course of a few days.
I thanked G-d for these wondrous blessings, smiled, picked up my book, slapped on my headphones and went back to work.
Reprinted from the August 31, 2001 edition of L’Chaim Weekly, a publication of the Lubavitch Youth Organization.
