In 1963, my father Nosson Kanelsky, gave in papers for the family to leave Russia. He was a refusnik until 1970 for 7 years. In those years, my father changed his job and worked in 18 different places, so that he would be able to keep Shabbat. When I turned five, my father began looking for a teacher for me. The requirements were not many. The teacher had to be a Lubavitcher chasid who was a capable teacher. But, it was known that if this teacher would be caught, he would be arrested. If caught, I would be taken away from my family and placed in a government orphanage. And no one knew what the consequences would be for my parents.
Every day during my father's 30-minute walk to work, he would think about who he could approach to be my teacher. Finally, my father found a teacher! This person was Reb Dovber Rikman. Not only was he a Lubavitcher chasid, but he had studied together with the Rebbe under the tutelage of the famed Reb Zalman Vilenkin in Yekatrinislav.
Rabbi Rikman taught me from age five to age seven. At seven years of age, I was required by law to attend school. Going to school had three problems: Attendance on Shabbat was compulsory; I would not be allowed to wear a head covering and I would have to sit through their atheist propaganda lessons.
My father found a doctor who wrote a note that due to my health, I could not attend school. When I turned eight years old, the doctor refused to write a new letter.
Father and Mother told me that we needed to talk. "If you go to school, you will have to find a viable excuse every Monday why you weren't in school on Shabbat. We will have to find a doctor who will say that you need to cover your head for medical reasons, and you will also need to stuff your ears with cotton!"
There was a second option, I was told. My parents could say that I had moved to Samarkand to live with my uncle. I would hide in our cellar. But that meant that I would literally not be able to see the light of day until we would leave Russia. And who knew how long that would be?
I told my parents I would have to think about it. Imagine, an eight-year-old child having to make such a decision! But for me, it was not a difficult decision. My teacher was very important and beloved to me.
And so, it was arranged that I would continue to study with my teacher for three hours each day. My grandfather, and especially my father, had instilled in me the importance of memorizing Tanya - the basic book of Chabad Chasidic philosophy. So, every day after studying with Rabbi Rikman, I spent time memorizing two lines of Tanya. Each night, I would walk outside in our yard with my grandfather for 10 minutes. I would review with him what I had learned that day as well as recite the Tanya I had memorized. (Our back yard was surrounded by a 10 foot high fence so it was safe for us to walk in our yard at night.)
For one and a half years I studied in the cellar and I did not see the sunshine. In 1968, before I had gone into hiding, my parents had a photo taken of me, my younger brother Avrohom, and my parents. My father sent the photo to my mother's cousin Tonia Minkowitz in Brooklyn. Together with the photo was a note: "Please take this picture and give it to Zaide (grandfather), and tell Zaide that we want to see him."
We could not address a letter directly to the Rebbe under any circumstances. How much more so for a blessing to leave Russia! But we knew our cousins would understand our intent.
Three months later, my parents got back a letter: "We received the photo. We gave the photo to Zaide. Zaide didn't respond."
My father was devastated! This meant the Rebbe didn't give us a blessing to leave Russia!
My father was very depressed. In addition, Russia changed the emigration rules and we were only allowed to apply once a year to leave. As if that wasn't enough, the year was also a census year.
The census workers came to our home. My father was at work. They asked my mother how many were in the family. My mother said that it was she, my father, "and our son." They had on record another son. "He is in Samarkand," my mother told them.
They did not believe her and began a thorough search of the house. They moved every table, every bed, opened every closet and cabinet. It was abnormal how they searched.
I was sitting in the cellar, learning. My grandmother came to me and told me that they were searching very close to where I was. I quickly ran to the attic. From the attic, I ran to the coal shed that was in the yard. They came close but thank G-d they did not find me. Finally, they left. When my father came home from work, he said he didn't recognise my mother. She had aged 10 years in that one day
Suddenly in January 1970, seemingly out of nowhere, we got a telegram from the Russian Agency: Pay 36 rubles and leave Russia!
My father got the first tickets he could find to leave. I remember that my father's face was literally pale and white during the first part of our journey. The entire time that we were sitting on the plane he was trembling and didn't say a word. Finally, when the announcement was made that we were landing for our stopover in Vienna I saw colour return to my father's face.
We settled in Nachalat Har Chabad. For the Tishrei holidays my father was determined to go to the Rebbe. My mother sold some of her household belongings so that I would be able to go to the Rebbe as well.
One of the first things we did when we got to Crown Heights was to visit our cousins the Minkowitzs. Tonia's husband Hertzel gave my father our family photograph that they had given to the Rebbe. "How do you have the picture?" my father asked in surprise.
"Let me explain," said Hertzel. "I got this picture from you before Yom Kippur. I went to the Rebbe on Yom Kippur eve. I gave the Rebbe the photo, 'These are my cousins. They want a blessing to leave Russia.' The Rebbe did not say anything. The Rebbe took the picture from me, walked back to his desk, opened one of the drawers, and put the picture in the drawer.
"A year later, on the eve of Yom Kippur, I passed by the Rebbe. The Rebbe said to me, 'One minute.' Then the Rebbe walked back to his desk, opened the drawer and took out the picture. The Rebbe handed it to me and said, 'I don't need the picture anymore.'
Three months later, we left Russia.
Rabbi Kanelsky and his wife Shterna are emissaries of the Rebbe in Hillside, NJ for 40 years and founders of Bris Avrohom.
