A Dance Never to Be Forgotten

A video created by the Rosh Chodesh Society, the women’s study division of JLI, tells the story of Rabbi Tzvi Hirsch Gansbourg, who was so devoted to the Yom Tov Tahalucha marches which the Rebbe instituted, that he visited an East Flatbush Shul one Simchas Torah – even though it was during the Shiva of his beloved wife.

His joyous dancing that day was never forgotten by those in the shul, and had far-reaching effects years later.

Rabbi Moshe Kotlarsky, Chairman of the Kinus Hashluchos, told the story at the opening of the Kinus on Thursday evening. The video was created for the Rosh Chodesh Society’s current course on the Tanya, TO BElieve OR NOT TO BElieve in YOURSELF: How to Achieve Self-Mastery. The story also appeared in the article below from the COLlive Magazine.

VIDEO

A March to Remember – The Tahalucha Campaign
By Libby Herz

“My father took us on tahalucha every year before my mother passed away,” says Mrs. Shaindy Jacobson. She was only seven years old when she lost her mother, Mrs. Rasha Gansburg, to leukemia. Six days later, it was Simchas Torah. “The Rebbe wants us to go on tahalucha,” her father said, “and this Simchas Torah isn’t going to be any different. We wore our best yom tov dresses with bows in our hair.”

Tahalucha was instituted by the Rebbe to encourage chassidim to relate, share chassidus, and bring simchah to other yidden. The practice was so precious to the Rebbe that days after his wife’s passing, Rabbi Tzvi Hirsch Gansbourg held the Torah close and danced with palpable joy in that East Flatbush shul.

The Beginning
The first tahalucha was on Shavuot 5716/1955 when Tzach arranged for baalei batim and youngelite to walk to shuls in New York in order to teach chassidus and add simcha.
“Tahalucha was a very cherished inyan by the Rebbe,” says Rabbi Michoel Seligson. The day after the first tahalucha, the Rebbe farbrenged and said, “Whoever went on tahalucha should say l’chaim.” After the chassidim said a l’chaim, the Rebbe added, “I did not go, but I envy those that went. Because I also wanted to go, I will say a l’chaim.”

Tahalucha takes place on the seventh day of Pesach, the first day of Shavuos, and on Shemini Atzeres. Originally, chassidim walked to Williamsburg shuls on Pesach, and Boro Park shuls on Shavuos. But Simchas Torah was different; chassidim would not target any specific area. Instead, they spread out all over New York with the purpose of dancing and bringing simcha to other Jews.

When he was thirteen years old, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Feller realized tahalucha’s great impact. “In the late 80’s we would go to Flatbush or Boro Park and stay until they did the second or third hakafah. I went to one of the basement shtiblach with ten other bochurim. In that shtible, they were planning to just walk around the bimah seven times as if it were a ritual. There would be absolutely no dancing, no singing, zilch, nada. They planned to just go home right after. We were ten bochurim, and we started dancing. We really got the place up and going. The people understood that we needed simcha here.”

Midnight Tahalucha
Shemini Atzeres farbrengens where an anomaly because they were very empty, and only attended by very young children and elderly men who were unable to walk. Young men who did not go on tahalucha refused to make an appearance at 770 so that the Rebbe would not see they had stayed behind. The farbrengens were held from nine p.m. until 12:30 a.m., with hakafos beginning once men started trickling back at midnight.

It was considered an act of mesiras nefesh to miss those farbrengens, and the Rebbe addressed this during a 5730 farbrengen, saying, “(Tahalucha) involves the toiling of the flesh and toiling of the soul. Toiling of the flesh – the far walk; toiling of the soul – since they are temporarily missing the words of Torah and inspiration that are being said.”

Rabbi Shmuel Butman recalls the Rebbe farbrenging until twelve a.m. before asking, “are those who went to Rabbi Telushkin’s shul back yet?” Once that group returned, the Rebbe said a l’chaim.
As 770 gradually filled up, the Rebbe repeatedly asked if the chassidim were back. “He asked if my father was back,” says Rabbi Feller, “because he went to the furthest place – Sheepshead Bay.” Once Rabbi Moshe Feller and his group returned, the Rebbe ended the farbrengen, and hakafos began.

Pesach and Shavuos
“Since 1952, bochurim and young men were sent every shabbos to shuls to ‘chazer’ – review chassidus, to say a maamar or a sicha,” recalls Rabbi Butman. “It was for that purpose that Likkutei Sichos was started. It was originally called Sichos Lachzor B’batei Knesios. The Rebbe wanted to give the chassidim material to chazer in shuls.”

The Rebbe would edit the sichos, and on Pesach and Shavuos tahaluchos, men marched to Jewish neighborhoods to deliver a sicha for various other congregations.

In a sicha related to tahalucha, the Rebbe praised chassidim for walking to remote shuls and connecting and learning with mispallelim. He compared this with the Shalosh Regalim when yidden left their homes before Pesach, Sukkos, and Shavuos, and walked to Yerushalayim. The journey took weeks, and even months. According to the Chida, a malach was created with each new step, with each one symbolizing life’s meaningful journey.

The Baal Shem Tov also teaches that a person lost in the forest or desert is lost for the purpose of purifying forsaken sparks. Similarly, the Rebbe explains, we elevate birurim and create malachim with each step we take. The Rebbe pointed out that a malach is created with each step of the lengthy walk to distant shuls, and the mere act of walking on tahalucha takes a person to the highest levels of Elokus.

Send Out the Troops
In later years, the Rebbe increased the attention given to the men going on tahalucha, and he began seeing them off. “Throughout my teenage and young married years, and until Chof Zayin Adar, it was a big part of our lives,” says Mrs. Jacobson. “We never missed it. The men would go to 770 and leave from there. We went to see the big parade. We stood on the island of Eastern Parkway and positioned ourselves for a good spot because everyone came to see the Rebbe.”

“It was one of the very beautiful sights we would see. We stood across the street on the Eastern Parkway island as men marched on the service lane or the sidewalk, four or five people abreast. There were fathers of very young kids, teenagers, married men, and old men. The Rebbe stood on the steps and watched every single person that would pass by.

“They sang Napoleon’s March, and the Rebbe would encourage the singing with his hands. The more he did that, the more they would sing; it didn’t stop. They kept singing for blocks. They went out like troops under the watchful eye of the Rebbe. We would watch and never leave until the Rebbe would see the last straggler. It was a very uplifting experience.”
A police escort stood at the beginning of the parade, and as the last men left, the Rebbe would thank the police officers who stood waiting until the end.

Young and Old
“What was incredibly moving,” says Mrs. Jacobson, “was you had every kind of chassid who was able to walk. People who were really old or sick and no longer able to walk would go to other shuls including 770 to chazer chassidus so that they could fulfill what the Rebbe wanted. Some could barely hobble.”

Fathers took their young children in tow. “We were tag-a-longs,” she recalls. “Our father would haul us to East Flatbush on Shemini Atzeres night. As a girl I thought it was miles and miles away. But we were part of it and we were very, very proud! We made it take longer, but in retrospect I realize that it was for chinuch. We learned about having Ahavas Yisroel and caring for other Jews.”

The distance and the weather did not stop chassidim from fulfilling their holy mission, and Tahalucha went on despite all weather conditions – be it scorching heat, thrashing rains, or howling winds. Men returned home with the soles of their shoes whittled to a paper-thin surface, their kapotas drenched in rain water, with puddles forming around their feet.

Over time, chassidim branched out to more destinations including Brownsville, Howard Beach, Brighton Beach, Manhattan, Park Slope, and many other Jewish communities. In certain neighborhoods, people would come out and offer chassidim food and drinks. But some areas were less than welcoming. Since 1977, for example, chassidim have stopped visiting Williamsburg.
Once, the Rebbe waited for hours for a certain kvutza to return, asking, “How long does it take to get back from Boro Park?” It happened that a group of Italians had started a fight with them, and it took a few hours for the men to escape and make it back to 770.

Altz Mit a Seder
Tahalucha groups were carefully thought out. Coordinators from Tzach reached out to shuls in advance, asking about the best time to arrive. “It was done in an organized fashion,” Rabbi Butman recalls. “The shuls were happy to hear from the Rebbe and have people help them sing and dance.”

A list stating the names of the men in each group, their leader, where they would be headed to, and directions, was drawn up and posted in 770.

Before Pesach and Shavuos, one man from each group prepared a speech that was based on a sicha. He would speak before the shul, and the rest of the men would sit in the Shul and listen.
After Yom Tov was over, the mesadrim (organizers) wrote up a duch (report) and sent it to the Rebbe. The duch included details including the names of the men and bochurim who went, their destination, what they spoke about, and facts about the shul.

Rabbi Seligson recalls that one bochur once visited a shul, but he did not get a chance to speak. “Can he still say a l’chaim?” the men asked the Rebbe later.
The Rebbe answered that it is good when a person goes on tahalucha and speaks, but if he doesn’t get a chance to share his prepared Torah, it is called a Torah drasha; the Torah considers it as if he has spoken. Therefore, the chassid should certainly say a l’chaim.

Another time, a chossid was asked not to speak at a particular shul, so the mesadrim wrote to the Rebbe, “holach v’lo chazar’,’ meaning “he went, but didn’t review (a dvar Torah).” Chazar can also mean ‘return,’ and the Rebbe quipped, “If he didn’t return, where is he now?”

The Effect of Tahalucha
“The Rebbe cherished those tahaluchos,” says Rabbi Shmuel Butman. “The Rebbe said that he cannot stop those who don’t adhere to the takona of drinking mashke within limits, but he can stop them from going on tahalucha because talalucha is his initiative.”

The Rebbe’s innovation brought chassidus to the masses. “Take a shul that has a small group of people,” says Rabbi Feller, “Then, add an extra fifteen or twenty people. You sing while people are davening, and after davening you do a Chasidic dance. It increases simcha.”

Tahalucha also benefits each of the people who walk to the shuls. “We always loved going,” Mrs. Jacobson says. “It was exciting. The kids got goody bags, we got flags. There was no such treats in 770 back then.”

The year her mother passed away, Mrs. Jacobson was particularly relieved to join her father as he danced around the bimah. “It made things feel normal. We had not yet sat shiva because we needed to wait until yom tov was over,” she says.

After the dancing in East Flatbush was over on that singular Simchas Torah, Rabbi Gansbourg dropped his children off with their grandmother, and hurried to the farbrengen at 770.
It was customary for Rabbi Gansbourg to initiate the singing of niggunim, and this time was no different.The Rebbe turned to him and asked him to start a niggun. With fragility, the widower sang: “Mi vadiom nye patonyem, ee v’agniom nye s’gorim – We in water will not drown, and in fire will not burn.” The crowd was silent, watching the Rebbe stare intensely at the bereft chossid. Then, the Rebbe stood up with a force so strong that his chair nearly tipped over.

Rabbi Mendel Jacobson, Rabbi Gansbourg’s grandson, describes the scene: “The Rebbe began dancing in his place, rocking up and down, swaying back and forth, with incredible intensity and passion. Witnesses say that in all the years the Rebbe never danced – never before and never after – quite like that.”

The Rebbe swung his arms, and waves of chassidim joined in, “We in water will not drown, and in fire will not burn; we in water will not drown, and in fire will not burn.” The singing grew louder, faster, and more powerful. Then, the men danced, intensity and joy coursing through them.

Years later, a young man contacted Tzivos Hashem, offering to sponsor a children’s program for Simchas Torah. He was interested uniquely in Simchas Torah, because when he was fourteen years-old, he had witnessed ‘the happiest man in the world’ dancing around the bimah, a Torah held close to his heart. He recalled the chossid’s children dancing around him. They all wore beautiful yom tov clothing and the girls wore matching bows. They held goody bags and waved flags in that East Flatbush shtiebel.

Only later did the boy discover that the man was Rabbi Tzvi Hirsch Gansbourg who had lost his wife to a devastating illness six days earlier. The chassid was able to put aside his personal devastation, and dance with a heart so full that he appeared to be the happiest man in the world. Such is the power of tahalucha.