By Dr. Dovid Krinsky
One evening, the Rebbe’s wife, Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka, called 770, as she often would, to speak with the Rebbe. The Rebbe often worked late, but on this occasion the secretary who answered informed her that he had left some time before, and was not in 770 anymore.
Now, it doesn’t take much time to get from 770 to the Rebbe’s house; it was long past when the Rebbe should have arrived home. Calls began to go back and forth. Nobody, not even the Rebbetzin, knew where he was; it was like the Rebbe had disappeared. Nor did anybody know the whereabouts of his car, or of Rabbi Yehuda Krinsky, the Rebbe’s secretary who would normally drive him.
Word got out, and before long, a crowd of concerned people began to form in front of the Rebbe’s house. They were debating among themselves, wondering what to do, when all of a sudden the Rebbe’s car pulled up. He got out, smiled to the chasidim as he often would, went up the stairs, and closed the door.
The Rebbe had disappeared, and nobody knew where or why — only that he was back. For a couple of hours, there were only three people in the world who knew, and I was one of them.
Several years ago, when Rabbi Krinsky, who is my uncle, was sitting shiva after the passing of his wife, I visited him to give my consolations.
While I was sitting with him, a certain man was escorted in through the crowd and seated right in front of my uncle. My uncle then introduced me to him as “the Rebbe’s dentist.”
Hearing this description for the first time surprised me. True, it was with the Rebbe’s encouragement that I had practiced and taught dentistry for years, and that he had pushed me to accept a particular position on the faculty of Columbia Dental School. But I hadn’t felt free to mention to anyone that the Rebbe also had a more direct connection with my dentistry. Only after hearing my uncle say this publicly did I feel comfortable telling this story.
It was probably in the early 1980s when Rabbi Krinsky called me one day to say that the Rebbe needed a certain dental procedure. This was already uncommon. Normally, patients don’t call requesting a specific treatment.
“Are we certain that’s what he needs?” Yes, he replied. That was what the Rebbe had told him.
Rabbi Krinsky wanted to know whether it could be done right away, in my Boro Park office, with no other staff assisting, or anyone else present. There were some logistics to be worked out, but the answer was yes.
