After 20 years inside prison, Nati Weiss is making sure Lakewood’s troubled teens stay out

Photos: Avi Gass

He always wanted to make a difference, to be a somebody, to contribute, but somehow, those aspirations got distorted and landed Nati Weiss in prison for over two decades. Now he’s on the other side, using the experiences he wouldn’t wish on anyone to help Lakewood’s troubled teens and enhance security in these precarious times

South Woods State Prison,

New Jersey, 1995

Alarms wailed throughout the corridors of the maximum-security corrections facility. Inmates were rioting again.

Armed corrections officers, clubs and batons in hand, rushed toward the cafeteria to restore order. They swarmed into the room, dodging flying food, plates, and dinner trays. A lengthy tussle ensued until order was restored.

Clad in khaki jumpsuits, the prisoners stood away from corrections officers. The two groups glared at each other. The warden stepped forward. “All right, what was this about?” he asked the surly-looking men. “What’s the problem now?”

A hardened criminal, the street-gang affiliated tattoos crawling up his neck, spoke up. “It’s about my boy Weiss here,” he said, nodding to a prisoner with a yarmulke.

“Weiss? What about Weiss?” the warden asked.

“Weiss wants kosher food,” the gang member said. “And y’all been denying him that right. Until Weiss gets his kosher food, there won’t be no peace in here, ain’t that right, fellas?”

Nods all around confirmed his words.

Weiss got his kosher food.

Having spent most of his adult life behind bars, Nati Weiss hit rock bottom multiple times, yet he never wavered in his belief that he could turn it all around, find his unique role to contribute to the greater good, and rebuild a life dedicated to helping and protecting others. Today, Nati is helping kids at risk and establishing a network of security for the frum community in Lakewood and beyond (his quickly expanding business has even fielded calls to help other Jewish communities).

I meet Nati in the plush conference room of Cedar Holdings, a top-tier real estate investment company founded by Moshe Tress, a prominent Lakewood philanthropist who had a close relationship with Nati and was his sponsor on the road back to life on the other side. Nati’s dress and appearance are a cross between worlds: He’s wearing athletic sweats, a sports jacket, sneakers, and a cap in the style common of one comfortable on a street corner, but he is neat and trim, with a short graying beard like any other Lakewood balabos. There is bling around his neck, but the pendant is a six-cornered Magen David and a kabbalistic hamsa.

We’re sitting in the lap of luxury, and a secretary is offering coffee, but Nati is clearly fidgeting to get outside, so we settle on an outdoor deck, and in a gentle, softspoken manner that doesn’t hint at having spent time behind bars, Nati shares the highlights of the stops along a complicated life path.