‘Where I Will Be, You Will Be,’ Memories of R’ Sholom Ber Gansburg

By Rivkah Slonim

For many years, my maternal zeide, Rabbi Shneur Zalman Gurary, merited to be involved with the Rebbetzin’s medical care as well as other aspects of the Rebbe’s household needs. In late 1983, the Rebbe formalized this role, mandating that my zeide take charge of the Rebbetzin’s daily health and medical needs as they arose. In being so close to Beis Harav, my zeide interacted extensively with Reb Sholom Ber Gansburg; sometimes, he spoke with Rabbi Gansburg multiple times a day.

Growing up next door to my grandparents, I witnessed–without understanding it, at the time–the profound devotion Reb Sholom Ber brought to his holy task. Sholom also became a de facto part of our family–a cousin or uncle of sorts, always present at family simchas and other important events. These words of appreciation on the occasion of his Shloshim represent my modest attempt to shine light on a person I consider a largely unknown– and therefore, an unsung–hero in Chabad-Lubavitch history.

The Rebbe had–and has–a world-wide court of loyal chassidim, steadfast battalions of soldiers in his army, avid students of his vast Torah, a steady stream of pilgrims who sought–and continue to seek–his counsel and blessing, admirers from up close, and many more from afar. It’s no secret that the Rebbe’s audacious, even radical, ideas revived post Holocaust Jewry and changed the landscape of contemporary Judaism in America and around the world.

The Rebbe’s every move was noted and analyzed, each public appearance and address recorded. And yet, the Rebbe remained elusive, his personal life shrouded in shadows. This is to say, albeit paradoxically, that despite his larger than life persona, the Rebbe is perhaps the greatest tzadik nistar of all time.

The Rebbe irradiated every space in which he found himself; his ideas served as the laser beam that illuminated the path forward for millions. And yet, everything we saw and whatever we gleaned was merely an obfuscation of a greater Or. Was there anyone who saw the Rebbe in “unguarded” moments? Who can claim to have been in truly close proximity to him?

The entire world rested on the Rebbe’s shoulders, was anchored in his vision, and propelled forward by his word. The Rebbe kept a schedule no human could match . His love and passion encompassed every person in the universe. And his faith in the inherent goodness of humanity was unshakable.The Rebbe cared. Deeply and profoundly.
But who took care of the Rebbe? Who tended to his physical needs? Who worried about him?

The answer to these questions is Rebbetzin Chaya Mushkah, of course. Fiercely devoted to —and protective of–the Rebbe, she sought to preserve his strength and nourish his spirit. But there came a time when she could not muster the assistance needed on her own. And after she passed from this world, who would or could presume to take on even the physical dimension of that role?

Reb Sholom Ber Gansburg is the correct answer. Most don’t know his name, and even those who knew him personally likely did not know the depth of his contributions. That was by design. Confidentiality was an unspoken prerequisite of the “job description”. But that was only the external aspect thereof. Being a meshamesh bakodesh required a discretion and self abnegation Sholom Ber embodied in singular fashion. It was never about him; he was simply a clear glass, a colorless conduit.

Sholom Ber’s calling as a Mashbak began in his youth, when the Frierdike Rebbe’s Rebbetzin recognized Gansburg’s knack for fixing things. Before long, she was calling upon him to help in sundry ways around the house. Unlike others who assisted in Bais Harav, Sholom Ber was given a room in the basement of 770, his residence for many years, up until his marriage.

For two decades–from the time he assumed the nesius, until after the passing of Rebbetzin Nechama Dina– the Rebbe and Rebbetzin, along with a select handful of older chassidim, ate their yom tov meals in the Frierdike Rebbe’s apartment. A few years into this era, Sholom Ber was asked to help set up and then serve at these seudos. Additionally, Sholom Ber would accompany the Rebbe’s mother, Rebbetzin Chanah, from her apartment to 770, and then back home, on the Leil Haseder and other Yomim Tovim. Sholom Ber would also assist Rebbetzin Chana in her apartment when needed.

Slowly but steadily, Sholom Ber became the one the Rebbe and Rebbetzin called upon for tasks large and small. When the Rebbe and Rebbetzin approached their eighties–and especially in 1982, after the Rebbetzin was briefly hospitalized for a leg injury– it became clear that the Rebbetzin needed more assistance on a daily basis to tend to her own needs as well as those of the Rebbe. The Rebbetzin, in the Rebbe’s presence, asked Sholom Ber to move into their home. From then on, his role as meshamesh bakodesh defined his life.

For years, Sholom Ber spent his days and nights devotedly tending to the Rebbe and Rebbetzin. He understood, implicitly, what needed to be done. He served with warmth and diligence, constantly looking for ways and means to do even more. The Rebbe and Rebbetzin trusted Sholom Ber with confidential matters, at times turning to him with highly sensitive assignments. Perhaps the following vignette offers a small window into the unique tenderness of this relationship:: Every morning, as the Rebbe left the house for 770, the Rebbetzin would walk him to the front door. When she could no longer do so, she asked Reb Sholom Ber to take on this sacred and intimate role, which he did, each day, from then on.

The Rebbe and Rebbetzin appreciated Sholom Ber’s thoroughness and thoughtfulness. On one occasion, Reb Sholom found two copies of a newspaper on the rebbe’s bed. When neatening up, Sholom Ber left the newspapers in the exact spot where he had first discovered them, deliberately leaving them untouched.

When the Rebbe came back from the Ohel, he pointed to the papers and said to Sholom, “Vos iz dos?” [What is this?], to which Sholom replied, “Ich vais nit” [I don’t know].

The Rebbe smiled and said “Avade! vi kents du visin? Bist dach mer nit vi fertzik yar in shtub…
Of course! how would you know? You have only been in the house for forty years…”

Although the Rebbetzin insisted on it, Sholom Ber refused to take payment for his service, which he perceived as his greatest zechus. Reluctantly, he accepted the gifts she bought him as an expression of her profound gratitude. Reb Sholom’s countless acts of service, performed with inimitable love and refinement, afforded him an unprecedented bond with the Rebbe and Rebbetzin. In fact, at the request of the Rebbe, Sholom Ber, accompanied the Rebbetzin to the hospital on what would be the last night of her life. At one point, she asked Sholom Ber to bring her a cup of water. She made the brocha Shehakol, articulating each word, and after taking a sip, she said:” Oy Shalom, you were mechaye me, may the Aibershter similarly be mechaya you!” That brocha and expression of gratitude were some of the last words she uttered in this world.

After the Rebbetzin’s passing, the Rebbe dismissed all of the other helpers who had been involved in the upkeep and daily operations of his home, retaining only Sholom Ber as his personal assistant. During this time, the Rebbe showed Sholom Ber where in his study there were funds to be used for the household as well as Sholom’s personal needs.When the Rebbe moved into 770, he told Reb Sholom to choose a room in the Frierdiker Rebbe’s apartment on the second floor of 770 as his own living quarters. Indeed, Sholom Ber returned his neshama to his Maker in that room in 770 making him one of less than ten people who had this zechus.

What was it like for Sholom Ber to stand so close to the flame that he could feel the burn, constantly and consistently?

We will never truly know because Sholom Ber Gansburg never talked. He was not secretive as much as impervious to inquiry. He understood the poignancy and weightiness of the words V’chol adam lo yihiye b’ohel moed b’vo’o lechaper bakodesh. No man shall be present in the Tent of Meeting when he [the kohen gadol] comes in to atone in the Holy (Vayikra 16:17). Even the kohen gadol on Yom Kippur could not actually “be” in the kodesh hakedoshim (Midrash Raba Vayikra 21:12), and even the loftiest malachim, who bear “the face of man,” could not inhabit that holy space (Talmud Yerushalmi as cited in the Maamar V’chol Ha’adam lo yihiye, tof shin chof gimel).

Despite his humility and distaste for the spotlight, some glimmer of Sholom Ber’s profound devotion was known to individuals close to Bais Harav. Simply speaking, he never tired of making the lives of the Rebbe and the Rebbetzin easier and more comfortable. In this singular quest, he used ways and means that were creative, even ingenious. His dedication was that of a child to parents; perhaps an only child, and a daughter, at that.

His devotion was reciprocated in astonishing fashion. For all the years that he lived in their home (inclusive of the years when the Rebbe and Rebbetzin lived in the library on Shabbosim and Yomim Tovim and he moved in together with them), he ate every Shabbos and Yom Tov meal with them. The first Pesach, after Sholom Ber had moved into the home of the Rebbe and Rebbetzin, he prepared everything for their Seder and then went to his parents’ home ( located less then a block away) where he quickly conducted his Seder in order to return in time to serve the Seudah to the Rebbe and Rebbetzin. To his utter shock, when he returned, he found that the Rebbe and Rebbetzin had been waiting for him, and would not begin their Seder in his absence. On Sukkos, during the years the Rebbe and Rebbetzin slept in the library, Sholom Ber built a very small sukkah for them and never dreamed of impinging on their privacy with his presence. But again, the Rebbe and Rebbetzin insisted that he join them.

Despite Sholom Ber’s proximity to the Rebbe, his deep bitul and hiskashrus never waned; in fact, it grew with each passing day. Remarkly, he never missed an opportunity to receive a dollar or a kuntres from the Rebbe, and the Rebbe never failed to give him double of what was handed to everyone else. This is a fact many people witnessed. Behind closed doors, Sholom Ber aided the Rebbe before and after Chof Zayin Adar of 1992 in ways too numerous to catalog, but not once did he approach the Rebbe’s daled amos without first donning his gartel.

Once, on Simchas Torah Tof shin chaf zayin, the Rebbe spoke about the Alter Rebbe’s role as meshores to the Magid, and how it was specifically in this capacity that the Alter Rebbe merited to see the Baal Shem Tov–years after he had left this world–b’hakitz, fully conscious, and not in a vision. Godol shimusha shel torah yoser melamuda (Brochos 7b). There is a superlative quality in serving a tzadik that eclipses what can be learned from the tzadik’s teachings. To study is to learn about; to serve, is to experience essence. We know that the Rebbe trusted Sholom Ber to be his agent for the purpose of Bedikas Chametz, and that for ten years he said v’yeten l’cha with the Rebbe each Motzei Shabbos. Who knows what else Reb Sholom Ber merited to see and feel in his private and unprecedented role, what light and warmth he sensed in his proximity to the orb?

On one occasion the Rebbe told Sholom Ber, ”Da’age nisht! vu ich vel zain vestu zain,” “Don’t worry! Where I will be, you will be!”

Who can fathom such a zechus or understand what those words might mean?

We are all more than ready to welcome the Rebbe da lemata, neshama beguf, and we know, because the Rebbe told him so, that Sholom Ber will be with him.

And perhaps then, we will be afforded the opportunity to repay the deep debt of gratitude that each person who benefited from the Rebbe– and who did not?– owes to the loving, humble, and faithful meshores of our Rebbe, Reb Sholom Ber Gansburg.

With acknowledgements to Yossi Sternberg for providing the historical information, Avrohom Sternberg for his assistance, and Yehoshua November for editing the article.