Once exposed to Rav Aharon Kotler, neither would leave the tents of Torah

Living Higher

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cherished reunion that has become more frequent in recent years is that of the Slabodka rosh yeshivah, Rav Moshe Hillel Hirsch, with his childhood friend, the Passaic rosh yeshivah, Rav Meir Stern. Both were born and bred in Brooklyn and belonged to a now-legendary group of boys who took the train each morning to RJJ, davened together in the Zeirei Agudath Israel minyan on 14th Avenue, and summered in Camp Munk. They grew up in a milieu that encouraged and expected boys to focus on a profession after high school, yet a surprising number from that rarefied chevreh broke the mold.

After graduation, Rav Meir and Rav Moshe Hillel made the unconventional decision to learn in a fledgling yeshivah in Lakewood, New Jersey, founded barely a decade earlier. Once exposed to Rav Aharon Kotler, neither would leave the tents of Torah. Rav Meir went learn in Brisk for seven years and later returned to America, eventually being tapped to lead the Passaic yeshivah. Rav Moshe Hillel married the daughter of the Slabodka rosh yeshivah and moved to Bnei Brak, where he assumed leadership of the yeshivah there. For decades, the two friends guided their respective talmidim, numbering in the thousands, while living an ocean apart.

In more recent years, Rav Moshe Hillel began traveling to America more frequently, whether for his own yeshivah or as the de facto ambassador of the Israeli Torah world, and the opportunities for the two friends to reconnect multiplied, each meeting a source of visible joy for their talmidim. This past Motzaei Shabbos, at a Melaveh Malkah for the Passaic yeshivah in Lakewood, a surprise guest walked in toward the end of the program: Rav Moshe Hillel, accompanied by a circle of talmidim and gabbaim.

After sharing warm words about his lifelong friend with the Passaic talmidim, the band launched a spontaneous and spirited “Od yenuvun b’seivah, desheinim v’ra’ananim yihyu — They will still flourish in old age; they will remain vigorous and fresh,” celebrating two gedolim who once chose a quiet, countercultural path with an uncertain future, and now stand as living proof of how vibrantly and richly that choice took root.

Overheard

At a dinner for talmidim, Rav Dov responded to a questioner who wanted to know if, realistically speaking, there is a limit to the she’ifos a person should have to grow in Torah.

“Do people in business have a limit in their she’ifah to amass wealth? It should be the same. Everyone dreams of making it big, although only some make it there. That’s not a reason that anyone lowers their she’ifos.”

—Slabodka Rosh Yeshivah Rav Dov Landau

Unto the Nations

This past week, Torah Umesorah held their annual convention. At a question-and-answer session held on Motzaei Shabbos, Rav Chaim Yehoshua Hoberman, rosh yeshivah of Mesivta of Long Beach, shared a truly incredible story to demonstrate how a Jew must conduct himself with a non-Jew.

It was the summer of 1954 when the Philadelphia yeshivah was set to open its doors, related Rav Hoberman, and his father-in-law, Rav Yitzchak Feigelstock, had traveled with Rav Aharon Kotler for a day’s worth of meetings regarding the new yeshivah.

It was nighttime when they began heading back to Lakewood. In the car was a driver, Rav Feigelstock in the passenger seat, and, lying in the back, an exhausted Rav Aharon.

As they crossed the bridge from Pennsylvania into New Jersey, Rav Aharon suddenly grew alert. At the side of the road were two young non-Jewish boys, who seemed to be about 12 years old.

“Will you pick them up?” Rav Aharon asked the driver.

Somewhat disconcerted the driver responded, “I don’t pick up hitchhikers.”

“Why not?” Rav Aharon asked.

“Because I’m afraid,” the driver responded.

“Afraid?” Rav Aharon repeated. “They’re young children! They’re two, we’re three,” he added.

The driver continued on for some six miles, and all the while, Rav Aharon kept sighing. “What will be with them? Their mother will be worried.”

Finally, the driver said, “What does the Rosh Yeshivah want? Should I turn back?”

Rav Aharon nodded.

And so the driver turned around, got back on the bridge, and pulled to the side of the road to give a ride to the two young hitchhikers.

And Rav Aharon left an enduring message about being a light unto the nations.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1089)