By Dovid Zaklikowski for COLlive and Hasidic Archives
In the early 1950s, David Grossman had a weekly ritual. Every Shabbos morning, he would trek a dozen or so blocks from his home on the corner of St. Marks and Brooklyn Avenues in Crown Heights to his favorite small synagogue, the Agudah Shul, on Crown Street and Kingston Avenue.
Mr. Grossman, a WWII veteran who owned a butcher shop in the neighborhood, was careful to leave at exactly the same time every week. That way, he was able to greet the Rebbe, who arrived at the corner of Eastern Parkway and Brooklyn Avenue at 8:50 on his way to the Karestirer Mikvah.
Though they were separated by Eastern Parkway traffic, the Rebbe never failed to nod to Mr. Grossman and wish him a “gut Shabbos” before they each continued on their way.
One week in 1952, Mr. Grossman was running late. He took his usual route with a heavy heart, consoling himself that there would be opportunities to greet the Rebbe in the future.
To his surprise, however, when he arrived at the corner, the Rebbe was there waiting for him. They nodded to each other, and the Rebbe continued on his way.