The $40,000 Deal the Rebbe Refused

With the pandemic not allowing for Merkos Shlichus bochurim to visit remote Jewish communities and individuals this summer, community news service COLlive.com launches a new series of interviews with Chassidim who share memories of their own visits in past years.

The first interviewee is R’ Chaim Drizin of Crown Heights:

We were sent to Russia, just after the Iron Curtain fell. At the time, there were thousands of Yidden who were thirsty for Yiddishkeit. The Shuls were shut down for decades, and it was nearly impossible to live a Jewish lifestyle under the communist regime.

I remember when we first came to Moscow, we went to the Marina Roscha Shul and found that the attic was full of thousands of old Seforim. Apparently, when the smaller Shuls were forced to close their doors, they brought their Seforim to Marina Roscha.

When seeing the antique treasures, we packed up a set of Seforim, and decided to gift them to the Rebbe‘s library. Upon returning to New York, I merited to receive a handwritten answer from the Rebbe ‘ת”ח ת”ח’, expressing the Rebbe’s appreciation.

Speaking of answers I received from the Rebbe, the following story lives with me to this day. I was privileged to spend some time in Dnepropetrovsk, the city where Harav Levi Yitzchok Schneerson (“Reb Levik”), the Rebbe’s father served as Rov.

At the time, the building where Reb Levik’s Shul once was, operated as an office building. Every morning, when walking from the hotel where we were staying at on the way to the city’s main Shul, I would stop by along the way and knock on the door of Reb Levik’s Shul, and demand that they return the stolen property back to us.

One morning, as I was doing my daily routine demanding the Shul be returned, the owner came over and inquired what we wanted. I explained that they are working in a building which is property stolen from the Jewish community and they must return it.

He thought for a moment and said, “You know what, bring me $40,000, and the building is yours.” I was overjoyed, and although I had no means of getting $40,000, I was determined to buy the building.

I called New York asking to relay a message to Mazkirus, saying that an opportunity came up to buy the Rebbe’s father’s Shul back for just $40,000. I was sure the Rebbe would be happy to hear this news.

Rabbi Leibel Groner gave over the Rebbe’s reply which surprised us all. “If you have $40,000, you should better spend it on Hafotzas Hamayanos.” This really showed us the importance of spreading Chassidus in the Rebbe’s eyes. Turns out, a few years later, the building was returned to Lubavitch at no charge.

THE KGB FILE

Speaking of the Rebbe’s father reminds me of a fascinating incident. One day a Russian Jew who worked in the KGB appeared randomly at the main Shul and put down a folder on the bima in front of me, saying to me in Russian, “podarok” [“a gift”].  Upon opening it, I was stunned to see we received the KGB folder with the ‘mugshot’ photos of Reb Levik, the earlier photo of him which is today widely used and famous. He relayed to us that this file was amongst thirteen boxes of Reb Levik’s interrogation papers.

Realizing the treasure we received, I immediately wanted to make sure the Rebbe got it as soon as possible. I sent it back to Moscow with two Bochurim who were at the time making a model Matzah bakery for us in Dneper. The rest of the detailed story of how the Rebbe received it, etc. I will perhaps relate on another occasion.

MY MISSING MEAL

In general, we saw much Hashgacha Pratis throughout our trip. I remember, on our flight back from Moscow to New York, it was arranged for Kosher meals to be provided. As soon as they brought the meal over, I went to wash at the back of the plane.

When I returned to my seat, I realized that the entire meal has gone missing. Meanwhile, in the corner of my eye, I see a Russian fellow seated a few rows back helping himself to my meal. After striking a conversation with him, I realized that this man was after all Jewish. I told him that I’d allow him to keep my meal, on the condition that he’d wrap Tefillin. He happily agreed.

As we finished wrapping Tefillin, I noticed another man waiting to ask something, I figured he was hungry as well, but this time I didn’t have another meal to provide. Turns out, he was Jewish too, and wanted to lay Tefillin as well. Before I knew it, an entire line began to form, so much so, that a stewardess came by and inquired what the whole commotion was. We explained that there are many Jews on the flight which was leaving Russia for the first time and are therefore putting on Tefillin.

The flight attendant, who turned out to also be Jewish, said she would need to discuss this with the captain. We tried hurrying things up, but were interrupted by the following announcement: “Ladies and Gentlemen, if there are any Jews aboard that would like to put on Tefillin, there are some Rabbis with us, at the back of the plane who will happily assist you.”

In total, myself and Sholom Ber Krinsky (today Shliach to Vilna) laid Tefillin with over 40 people on that flight, all in the merit of our stolen meal.

ATHEIST’S TURNAROUND

There were times where we didn’t see the results of our Shlichus, till years later. One story comes to mind when I was sent in 1988 to South Africa on Shlichus after Yeshiva, myself and Moshe Krasnanski (today a Shliach in Montreal) met a particular individual named Clive.

Clive would always tell us that he’s an atheist, yet every Friday we would stop by and ask him to put on Tefillin. For the first few months, he was hesitant, but after a while, he agreed to put on Tefillin. For the next few months, although he was still somewhat cold to Yiddishkeit, he would still lay Tefillin with us. For some reason, our list was never passed on to the following year’s Shlichus group, so Clive was left without Bochurim visitors.

18 years later, I returned to South Africa for the first time. One day, I entered a local Shul to daven Mincha, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Clive was sitting there, as a Frum Yid Davening together with the rest of the Minyan. When Clive noticed me, he shouted “Chaim! Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all these years!”

Clive told us, that at our first week missing, he felt relieved, finally a week off from the Yeshiva Bochurim. But after weeks turned into months, he began feeling weird. “Without putting on Tefillin, what connection to Judaism would I have?” he asked himself. With no way of contacting us, he began searching for his roots.

Clive found a Chabad House and requested to lay Tefillin, and eventually, one thing led to the next, and today he lives a fully Jewish lifestyle, and even sends his children to Yeshiva. Yet, not knowing our last names, he had no way of thanking us. Only years later did we merit to see the results.