On Yud-Beis (12th) Tammuz 5687 (1927), the Sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, R. Yosef Yitzchak ('HaRayatz') Schneersohn, was released from prison in Stalinist Russia. Ever since then, the date has been celebrated as a major holiday among Chabad-Lubavitch chasidim.
Rabbi Berel Baumgarten always cherished this occasion. He himself was very close to the Rebbe Rayatz, and in the 1940's completed many missions according to the Rebbe's directives.
In 1955 the son-in-law and successor of the Rebbe Rayatz, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, sent R. Baumgarten to be the first Chabad representative in Argentina. During his 23 years there, he often made the long journey to the USA specifically to spend 12-13 Tammuz at 770 [Eastern Pkwy, Brooklyn, Lubavitch World Headquarters). The highlight always was being part of the packed congregation of thousands, participating in the Rebbe's special farbrengen for Yud-Beis Tammuz. In those years that he was unable to fly, he used the holiday as an opportunity to spread awareness of chasidism and the Rebbe to his fellow Jews in Argentina.
One year, however, he was forced to travel from Argentina to Brazil, and realized that on Yud-Beis Tammuz he would be in the middle of his trip. Disturbed at the prospect of spending this auspicious date far from anyone with whom he could share his feelings, he sent a telegram to the office at 770 before he left home, asking to be remembered by the Rebbe on that date.
While in Brazil, in order to reach his destination Rabbi Baumgarten had to cross the Iguacu River by ferry - a boat with an open deck covered by an awning, with several heavy-duty rafts tied together to carry cars and cargo. Together with several others, the rabbi followed instructions and drove his car onto the raft.
As soon as the cars were parked, he and the others left their vehicles and enjoyed the fresh air beneath the awning. He was happy to find that two of his fellow passengers were Jews. But his joy soon turned to consternation when he discovered that the two were totally alienated from their heritage, and had no desire to hear about Jewish practice or ideas. One of them brazenly flaunted a ham sandwich before him, making it clear how little Judaism meant to him.
Feeling that further conversation would be futile, and offended by their actions, Rabbi B. returned to his car and opened his books to study.
Suddenly, there was a powerful jolt - a banana boat had slammed into the raft! Huge beams that had been piled in a corner of the raft began tumbling down, pushing cars off the raft and into the Iguacu River. To his shock, his own car also began to move. He slammed his foot on the brake, but was powerless to stop the car's forward motion. It too crashed into the waves and started to sink!
R. Berel Baumgarten was a big man, over six feet tall and more than 250 pounds. Yet, as large and strong as he was, he couldn't open the car door; the water pressure was simply too great. Suddenly the door opened - how? He never understood - and he found himself out of the car and in the water, slowly rising upward.
His troubles, however, were far from over. Yes, he had escaped the sinking vehicle, but R. Baumgarten had never learned to swim! Frantically kicking and flailing his arms for what seemed like hours, he was at the end of his strength when his head suddenly broke through to the surface.
Exhausted, he could only bob helplessly up and down; he couldn't figure out what was keeping him afloat, but there he was. Between waves, he could see the raft close by, but was powerless to move towards it.
To make matters even worse, he could hear a rumbling thunder in the distance, and realized with horror that the river's powerful current was beginning to pull him away from the raft, and towards a waterfall!
As the white water crashed over him and he was unsure if he would survive, he pictured the Rebbe's face before his eyes Then he looked up towards shore and B”H, he saw a man there about to heave a life-preserver in his direction. It splashed into the river just within reach.
He grabbed the life-preserver and drew it close. He tried to put it over his upper body, but was unable to. He simply was too broad. Though his strength was giving out, he realized there was no alternative; he would have to hold on by hand.
After he had been hauled into the raft and was able to regain his composure, the two Jews whom he had met previously approached him, overcome with remorse. They acknowledged it was because of them that the rabbi had returned to his car. They apologized for their previous conduct. Not only that, the man who had flaunted the sandwich even promised to keep kosher from that time onward!
After Rabbi Baumgarten reached the far shore, he began to contemplate his situation. He had no explanation for the life-saving miracles that had occurred.
Days later, he was able to gain clarity. Someone told him that during that year's Yud-Beis Tammuz farbrengen, the Rebbe had turned to Berel's brother, Rabbi Mendel Baumgarten, and asked "Where is Berel?" He also instructed him to toast l'chaim.
When Reb Berel heard this, he sped to his brother to ask what time this occurred. Calculating the difference in time-zones, he realized that the Rebbe must have been reading the telegram at precisely the time that his car had been dislodged from the raft and he had been under water!
All these calculations, however, came later; at the moment, alive but stranded, he had more immediate concerns. His personal belongings had all been lost with the car, and he was far from any Jewish community. Where would he find a tallis and tefillin with which to pray?
In Brazil [and in all of the southern hemisphere], the Jewish month of Tammuz falls in the winter and the days are short. R. Baumgarten found that there was a small airport nearby, but no flights were scheduled until late afternoon; he would not be able to reach another city before sunset. He did not know what to do, being unable to conceive of letting the day pass without putting on tefillin.
He inquired about hiring a private plane. Although the cost was exorbitant, he was able to find a pilot who could fly him to another city before sunset. He sent a telegram to the leaders of the Jewish community there, asking them to meet him at the airport with tefillin.
There was a mix-up in communications, however, and no one greeted the desperate rabbi at the airport. With less than an hour left before nightfall, he grabbed a cab and told him to hurry to the nearest synagogue. Unfortunately, night fell before he could get there. Broken-hearted, he stopped the cab, sat down on a nearby park bench and cried.
At his next yechidus (private meeting), he asked the Rebbe how he could atone for not putting on tefillin that day. Before answering his question, the Rebbe looked up at him and asked: "Well, did I think about you? Yes or no?"
He then instructed Rabbi Baumgarten to study the laws of tefillin in the Alter Rebbe's Shulchan Aruch, and the discourses in chasidic thought that speak about the subjugation of heart and mind, the spiritual message associated with the mitzvah of tefillin.
Rabbi Baumgarten lamented that a pocket-sized Siddur and Tanya which he had been given by the Rebbe were now at the bottom of the Iguacu River. "Could the Rebbe please replace them?" he asked.
"Why? Is it my fault?" replied the Rebbe with a soft smile.
"And am I to blame?" replied Reb Berel.
To this the Rebbe smiled broadly, removed from a drawer in his desk a Siddur and a Tanya, and handed them to Rabbi Baumgarten.
Reprinted from an adaption by Rabbi Yechiel Tilles on “To Know and to Care”.
