ULY Day of Learning Dedicated to R’ Nochum Labkowsky

By Chaya Vogel

Passersby who frequent Albany Avenue and Crown Street watched in fascination as the impressive new wing of Lubavitcher Yeshiva, dedicated in honor of R’ Nochum ben Yisroel Halevi Labkowsky OBM, was built at a dizzying speed. Now completed, the sounds of Torah can be heard through the spacious new hallways.

Today, 23 Teves, marks the 42nd yahrtzeit of Reb Nochum OBM. In a most befitting manner, the school dedicated a day of learning in his honor, continuing his legacy of Torah and mesiras nefesh to the talmidim in Tomchei Temimim.

Sketches of his remarkable and challenging life were shared with the students:

Reb Nochum lived just across from the KGB headquarters in Moscow. Once, as he was entering his apartment building, he handed a candy to his son. A neighbor’s child asked for one as well and, not only did he share the candy, but he also recited a bracha with him. The father, however, was a staunch communist, and he was not impressed. He reported the incident to the KGB, who instructed him to summon Reb Nochum for questioning. Reb Nochum ignored the verbal summons and insisted on a written notice. By the time the neighbor had returned with the paper, he had vanished, forced to go into hiding for a month until things had calmed down. Later, when he was asked about his actions, he explained that he simply couldn’t give a Jewish child a candy without reciting a bracha. His dedication to Jewish values was unwavering, even when faced with the most challenging circumstances.

It was erev Sukkos, and Reb Nochum was summoned for the mandatory Russian army draft. He packed a small bag of food and, with a fervent prayer on his lips that he would be spared because of his poor health, he set out. Things took a while and he soon found himself stuck on a Russian army base on the first night of Sukkos. Undeterred, he snuck out of the base and spent two long hours searching for a Sukkah. He thankfully found one, ate a kezayis, and quietly returned to the base. By miracle, his escapade went unnoticed and he was released from the draft the next day.

“How could you put your life at risk for a mitzvah that one is not required to endanger his life for?” he was asked. His simple response was: “It’s a mitzvah. How can I not do it?”

Upon his father’s passing, he wished to lead the tefillah at the amud in his father’s honor. In his neighborhood, where the KGB permitted only one open shul, another member sought the same honor for his deceased parents. The shul established a rule: whoever arrived first would get the amud. Determinedly braving the harsh Russian cold, he waited outside the shul from four in the morning, lacking even a proper coat. His love and commitment to fulfilling this mitzvah knew no bounds, a testament to his profound devotion to Yiddishkeit.

What could be more befitting than for the temimim of Lubavitcher Yeshiva to dedicate a day of Torah learning in the honor of Reb Nochum?