1930. In the days of Prohibition and Depression, where liquor was scarce and money was scarcer, how did the Previous Rebbe uplift the “Jews without booze”? The Avner Institute presents the riveting first arrival of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn to America following his escape from Soviet prison and Stalin, the modern-day Amalek; and his warm welcome in Milwaukee, on 9 Adar, exactly 10 years before his second and permanent arrival on American shores following his escape from Hitler, another modern-day Amalek.
In loving memory of Hadassah Lebovic A”h
“In a Garden Amongst Plants”
It was 5690/1930. When the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, following his harrowing time in Soviet prison and his miraculous release, paid a fundraising visit to America, Judaism, let alone Chassidism, was very much on the sidelines. Aid to Russian Jewry consisted of politely opened ears to appeals on their behalf, but few open hearts or wallets. Back then, the North Pole seemed warmer than American Jewry.
Why was this so? What explained this chilly reception?
The answer: those who came to America were caught up in a struggle to survive. The “Goldene Medinah” – the Promised Land where the streets were supposedly paved with gold – turned out for many to be either a slum or a small town where employment took precedence over Sabbath observance and Jewish identity was rapidly dissolving in the Melting Pot. Furthermore, the Stock Market Crash, in October 1929, and the ensuing Depression, had left many people wary of parting with their money.
The years of Prohibition had wreaked further spiritual and economic havoc. Beginning in 1919, Americans were forbidden to import or export alcoholic beverages. Those who were addicted either had to procure liquor smuggled in from Canada and Mexico, usually with the help of organized crime, or secretly make their own “bootleg” brand, often with questionable ingredients. This misguided Constitutional amendment would, in 1933, finally be repealed. In the meantime, however, European Jews who were accustomed to raising cups in l’chaim, to toast a yahrzeit, birthday, or simple opportunity to honor friends or family members, had to abstain completely, and their inner warmth cooled off and froze over.
However, the Chassidim in Milwaukee, anticipating hundreds of attendees, could not imagine a farbrengen without mashke, hard liquor. They suggested that mashke be bought illegally. However, the Previous Rebbe adamantly refused.
“Tables were set up with soda and lemonade,” he wrote in his diary. “They wanted mashke, but I did not allow it because in America it was illegal.” At a large public and conspicuous event, such concern for the law was obvious. So this farbrengen was held with no mashke at all, neither the real nor the bootleg kind.
Nevertheless, the heat that emanated like a furnace from the nasi, Torah leader, fired up the participants, as will be related.
Baruch Haba!
Milwaukee, the largest city in Wisconsin, is located on the west side of Lake Michigan. Back then, it was home to some thirty thousand Jews, including a sizeable number of Chassidim and Chabad descendants. Among the latter was a wealthy man from the Chanin family, who helped fund the Previous Rebbe’s activities.
An entourage of about twenty men escorted the Rebbe to Milwaukee from Chicago, which included his son-in-law Rabbi Gurary (the Rashag); secretaries Rabbi Chatshe Feigein and Rabbi Chaim Lieberman; and the Rebbe’s uncle, Rabbi Moshe Horenstein. It was Sunday evening, 9 Adar, when they arrived at the Milwaukee train station and beheld a magnificent welcome: on the cars American flags flapped in the breeze, as well as flags with the Star of David and the words “Boruch Haba” (welcome).
The Rebbe stepped off the train, and journalists’ cameras began to click and whorl all around him. For most of the crowd, it was their first time ever seeing the Rebbe. The latter left the station, accompanied by a convoy of about two hundred cars. In front of the Rebbe’s was a police car, decked in welcome signs. Traffic halted to a stop in the Rebbe’s honor.
The Rebbe davened ma’ariv, the evening prayers, in the Anshei Lubavitch shul and from there went to the attached apartment, which had been prepared for him and also festooned with flags and welcome signs. Even during this short walk he was surrounded by a crowd and journalists with endless flashing cameras. Non-Jewish spectators commented on this personality who made a positive impression.
Following a brief supper the first visitors arrived – about thirty delegates, old and young – from the nearby town of Sheboygan. They begged the Rebbe to visit their town, at least for at least a day. However, the Rebbe’s packed calendar and his desire to fire the flames of inspiration in the major cities Milwaukee and Chicago forced him, to his regret, to decline the invitation.
After the delegation left, numerous individuals came in for yechidus (private audiences), which lasted several hours.
Va’Yavo Amalek!
The following day, Monday, 10 Adar, the Rebbe was still receiving a stream of visitors, including quite a few young Americans. In a letter to his wife, the Rebbe wrote that the young men listened politely and that some of them even promised to lay tefillin.
The delegation from Sheboygan, together with the Milwaukee Jews – Chassidim and non-Chassidim alike – gathered around. The Rebbe joyfully wrote, “A hundred people sat and farbrenged, speaking a bit, telling one another stories, warming one another up. That’s what they told me; it made a nice impression.” The gathering over, the Sheboygan delegation departed for the train station, escorted by the Jews from Milwaukee.
From morning till night, the Rebbe’s apartment swarmed with Jews of every stripe, wanting to see him. In the evening, Jews from Milwaukee packed the Anshei Lubavitch shul in anticipation. Young and old, those with trimmed beards, others with untouched beards, those who put on yarmulkes at the entrance, as well as rabbis, cantors, ritual slaughterers, and yeshiva students. The women’s section was also packed.
The shul interior was brightly lit and filled with babbling voices in Yiddish and English. And then suddenly, silence.
All eyes turned to the main entrance. The Rebbe, donned in black coat and tall fur hat, walked in. He strode the length of the shul, approached the Holy Ark, and took a seat in an armchair next to a small table. He gazed at the crowd. This went on for a few minutes; the crowd heightened in tension.
Then, the Rebbe began a ma’amer, a stream-of-conscious discourse, with the words “Va’yavo Amalek.”
The audience avidly listened, trying to glean the wisdom, hidden and revealed, behind the arrival of Amalek, the ancestor of the villain Haman and highly relevant to that month of Purim. The scene lasted and hour and twenty minutes, as described later by the Rebbe in a letter to his wife:
The people sat in their places in utter silence, with great respect, all of them riveted to their seats, all of them looking at one place, inclining their heads forward – listening, comprehending, wanting to understand. It was like sitting in a garden amongst plants that move in the breeze. Their lips move but their voices are not heard. It was apparent that each of them was going outside of himself, wanting to know what was being said, wanting to understand, wanting to know, and on all was apparent a smile of delight which expressed thanks and joy.
There are some Jews here in their forties and fifties from our district in Vitebsk who were with their fathers in Lubavitch in their youth and heard and reviewed Chassidism and occasionally learned, but their devotion to religion ceased and they cooled off, but the taste of Chassidism still remains with them. They put on tefillin, keep Shabbos to the extent they can . . . . but this visit inspired them, shook them up. The first time I spoke, on Sunday (so they say), they “lost it” completely, they cried hysterically, and said the SheHechiyanu blessings with tears of joy and sorrow.
The ma’amer was able to affect even those who were not in Lubavitch; however, on those [who were in Lubavitch] even more . . . . How much they understood the Chassidism I don’t know, but they spoke about it amongst themselves. They are in America for twenty years already and speak a very good English. They repeated the content of what was said in English to those who knew nothing (aside from what they saw).
Also present were reporters from English-language newspapers, one a Jew and the other a Christian. Although the latter could not understand the Rebbe’s words in Yiddish, the entire scene made a remarkable impression.
That night the Rebbe quickly wrote up the ma’amer, editing it for two hours and in the days that followed. Nineteen years later, this would be published in a kuntres, a pamphlet, for 10-13 Shevat 5709/1949 and reprinted in the Sefer HaMa’marim 5709, p. 34.
Sobering Moment
In a letter to his wife, the Rebbe wrote about the many things he did on Tuesday, 11 Adar. From nine a.m. until one p.m. he was inundated with people seeking audiences or carrying panim, letters of mercy and requests.
From 1:00 to 1:45 there was an audience with a special citizen of Milwaukee: Rabbi Yehuda Leib Twersky, the Horensteipel Rebbe and descendant of the second Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Mittler Rebbe. Rabbi Twersky had visited the Rebbe in Chicago, greeted him at the train station in Milwaukee, and prayed with him in the shul. Now they spoke together, at great length, on all matters.
From two until four – lunch, resting, and mincha, afternoon prayers.
From four to eight – more audiences, and more letters of supplication, followed by ma’ariv.
From eight to nine p.m. – a break to continue writing up the ma’amer.
From nine to ten – again yechidus and receipt of panim.
Between ten and twelve – a special meeting, actually a farbrengen in the Anshei Lubavitch shul, attended by about a hundred Chassidim and distinguished guests from the Jewish community, including about twenty of Chassidic origin. Again, a large group of women listened from their section.
Tables were set with – soda and lemonade. But no mashke at all. The Rebbe began his talk with an explanation about the difference between Torah and tefillah, prayer. His Yiddish was basic and comprehensible, even to a child. Then he launched into a discourse in the Lubavitcher style.
The Rebbe described it in a letter to his wife:
. . . . an inspiring sicha “like at home,” the crowd warmed up a bit. Out of the two hours that I farbrenged, I spoke for about an hour in four installments . . . . It penetrated to their core, both men and women were moved . . . . I spoke about Jewish communities in America not thinking about themselves. They leave “children of stone” after them. None of them think about the chinuch [education] of children, that they become like Jews in the Old Country. Rather, each one gives money to found orphanages, for old age homes, for shuls, and they write it on their names, i.e. they engrave their names in stone as an everlasting memorial, “a child of stone.” I spoke about it at length with the appropriate terms with colorful true-to-life descriptions.
On Wednesday, the last day of the visit, the Rebbe addressed many Jews who came to listen. A group of Chassidim and Milwaukee Jews convened to discuss ma’amad, monetary support for the Rebbe’s household.
Glimmer of Inspiration
On Wednesday evening, the Rebbe returned to Chicago, even as the impact of visit continued to reverberate. One week later, on Wednesday, 19 Adar, some Jews in Milwaukee, greatly desiring to see the Rebbe again, went to Chicago and gave him special regards from their local brethren.
In the days following the trip, the Rebbe wrote letters to some of the Milwaukee Jews. In one of them, sent to “Reb Chaim Eliezer,” the Rebbe encouraged the community to do more to strengthen Judaism in general and Chassidism in particular – especially given the presence within their community of “men of stature.”
On a practical note, the Rebbe described the special role of Chabad Chassidim – outreach to other congregants and lessons in Chassidism in a style and level suitable, as well as choice of topics – prayer, service, self-improvement. Similarly, it was always the custom to influence the youth and induce within them a glimmer of inspiration.
The Rebbe expressed special joy in response to his speech during the meeting in the Lubavitch shul:
I was pleased to see an inner arousal, an inner enthusiasm, albeit covered in the dust of the flow of life, wrapped in a mantle of worries, but it peeks through the cracks and it is easy, with G-d’s help, to arouse it and to bring it from concealment out into the open.
The Rebbe concludes:
The group of anash [communal members] in your city is worthy of channeling the blessing of G-d to found a group of people who study Chassidism at set times according to the conditions of the place and to agitate to the establishment of a shiur in Gemara amongst the balabatim [middle class]. And the learning, whether of Chassidism or Gemara, should take place in the shul of their choice.
Thus went these moments with the Previous Rebbe – “dry” as in devoid of liquor, but saturated with endless holiness. Those who were there, even during these Depression years, felt a joyful drunkenness, like one imbibed with the Rebbe’s special wisdom and presence.
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