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Everything’s a Stepping Stone

Mrs. Charlotte Dunner has spent the last decade quietly spearheading one important initiative after another, helping spread Yiddishkeit across Europe. Every stumbling block is a stepping stone

It was a brainwave, and I was eager to meet the woman behind it.

In January 2016, rebbetzins from all over Europe — from Ireland to Turkey, Gibraltar to Belarus — gathered in Vienna for the first-ever European Rebbetzins Conference. The conference was designed to offer both inspiration and practical tools to help these Rebbetzins in their work.

Curious about the woman and energy behind this brilliant initiative, I was not surprised to discover that it was launched by Mrs. Charlotte Dunner of London, wife of late Rabbi Aba Dunner.

Rabbi Dunner had turned the Conference of European Rabbis (CER) from a fledgling organization to an influential forum of 700 rabbanim, tackling vital issues such as shechitah, bris milah, kashrus, anti-Semitism, chinuch, and a plethora of other matters pertaining to Jewish life in Europe. In his decades of public service, Rabbi Dunner was a driving force in organizing and facilitating Yiddishkeit for the individuals as well as kehillos all across Europe.

It took me a while to spot Mrs. Dunner; she was quietly clearing away used coffee cups in the refreshment area. Later I noticed her playing with a baby, enabling his mother to concentrate on the lectures. I quickly realized that I was face-to-face with a unique personality: a woman whose behind-the-scenes work is outstanding, without ever emerging to stand in the spotlight.

That was our first encounter. Over the past two years, I’ve had the honor and pleasure of meeting Mrs. Dunner on several occasions.

Last summer, I visited Mrs. Dunner in her London home. Countless framed portraits of both ancestors and descendants line the walls, and the bookshelves are filled with scholarly volumes. I notice an entire shelf with works on Jewish history.

“I love history,” Mrs. Dunner explains. “The present and future cannot exist without the past. We wouldn’t be here without it.”

I look up at a portrait in oils, hanging above the fireplace. The subject is an imposing man. “This was my grandfather, Rav Shmuel Austerlitz,” Mrs. Dunner says. “He was originally from Vienna, where my father spent his childhood years. He received semichah from Yeshivas Chasam Sofer in Pressburg and later became Chief Rabbi of Miskolc.” Miskolc was then the second-largest Jewish community in Hungary, with Jewish residents making up 20 percent of the population.

“It’s interesting how much this means to me,” Mrs. Dunner shares. “I never even knew my grandfather. On September 1, 1939, when he heard that the war had broken out, he suffered a heart attack and died. I want to learn as much as possible and connect to him. I also love Vienna and hearing people talking German with that distinct Viennese accent because it reminds me of my father. It’s as if I can hear him speak again.”

 

Giving Roots

Family legacy is the key to Mrs. Dunner’s passion to care for those in need.

Her father lived in Miskolc when the Hungarian transports started. Desperate to get his family seats on the train to Switzerland, organized by Rudolf Kastner, he traveled to Budapest. “He went to deliver the payment to Kastner,” Mrs. Dunner says. “He returned to Miskolc, only to discover his worst nightmare — an empty house. In the short time that he was gone, someone must have informed on them, and his wife and children were deported. He was left to board the train to survival all alone.”

“My mother was from Debrecen,” Mrs. Dunner continues. “Her husband was shot the day he presented himself as requested at a munkatábor (Hungarian labor camp), and her children were murdered in Auschwitz. After the war, she arrived in Switzerland alone. There, she met and married my father.”

“Within a short time the couple established themselves in Zurich, making their first priority assisting others in need. And there were many who needed them: The October Revolution in 1956 left thousands of Hungarian refugees who need support. My grandmother set up a framework to assist them financially and emotionally,” says Dr. Refoel Patcas, Mrs. Dunner’s son from her first marriage. “Every Shabbos the table was filled with students and bochurim who needed warmth and a helping hand.

“My mother grew up an only child in an open house, where caring for people was of utmost importance,” Dr. Patcas continues. “My mother’s parents were very influential in her drive to help others. Both lost their spouses and children in the Holocaust, yet neither lost their simchas hachayim. They managed to put their pain aside and rebuild their lives, becoming exemplary in their chesed and compassion.”

With energy and tenacity, Mrs. Dunner devoted her life to helping others. “I always wanted to be involved in work for the klal,” she explains. “I like to be part of people’s lives.”

“I remember as a young child, someone in our community needed to travel to Hungary for medical treatment,” recalls Mrs. Dunner’s son Rabbi Emmanuel Patcas. “The problem was, they didn’t know the language. As soon as my mother heard, she packed her bags and was off. Since she speaks Hungarian, she wanted to be on hand to help communicate. But she wasn’t just a translator — she was an emotional support to that family, as well. Why did she do it? Simply because she saw a need. And this is how she’s continued all these years.”

Fluent in six languages — she speaks impeccable Hebrew, English, German, Yiddish, French, and Hungarian — Mrs. Dunner uses her proficiency to reach out to people from all over the world.

 

Dynamic Duo

For years, Mrs. Dunner held a position at the Jewish Agency in London. Her job was to assist people in their aliyah: guiding them through the process, from filling in application forms until they boarded the plane to Eretz Yisrael.

Yet it was when she married Rabbi Aba Dunner that she found her true calling.

Mrs. Dunner, who has two children from her first marriage, married Rabbi Dunner in 2008 after the passing of his first wife. She was welcomed by his family. “I’m fortunate that I married into such a big family,” Mrs. Dunner says. “My husband’s siblings, his children, and grandchildren, they were all so welcoming.”

It was a big change. “What I find amazing is her ability to adapt,” reflects Dr. Patcas. “She grew up an only child and then raised my brother and me — a rather small family. But when she married Aba, she immediately felt comfortable with his large clan. All these years after Aba’s passing, she has remained the Omi.”

Two Dunner daughters-in-law are filled with admiration. “They were an amazing couple from day one. She made him a very happy man, and is a grandmother to our children to this day. She’s so much fun, always laughing with us and cheering us on.”

“With two such giving people,” Rabbi Patcas recalls, “it was an incredible partnership — there was her dedication to his children and his devotion to us. Aba was fun to be around from day one.”

Several weeks after their wedding, Rabbi Dunner turned to his new wife and said, “Every morning you leave the house and travel to work for someone else. Why don’t you come and work with me? Then you can stay home and I won’t have to miss you all day.”

It was a perfect arrangement. Two individuals passionate about their vocation, working in sync to make the Jewish world a better place.

“I could not have found a better occupation” relates Mrs. Dunner. “Doing such fulfilling and meaningful work — while working together with my husband.”

 

Building through Europe

Mrs. Dunner is determined to clarify the extent of her role. “I’m a very good ‘number two’ — I like to be stimulated by a leader and work behind the scenes.” She continues to describe her late husband’s accomplishments.

One of Rabbi Dunner’s main endeavors was building mikvaos, particularly in communities in Eastern Europe. “He’d always say that the first thing one must ensure is that a kehillah has a mikveh,” Mrs. Dunner explains, “before building a school or a shul. Because without a mikveh you do not have families living b’taharah. Mikvah is the strongest link to our tradition.”

“Aba was a very creative person,” she relates. “He’d travel to a community, get a feel for the things they were lacking, and would supply it. He managed to find solutions for everything in his determined yet charming style. He’d often say, ‘When one door closes, a window opens.’ ”

It wasn’t always smooth sailing: Rabbi Dunner had dealings with all kinds of people, in many different positions. His generous spirit was not always reciprocated. “In those situations, he lived by the adage: If someone’s not nice to you, be double as nice to them.”

Mrs. Dunner illustrates: Once they took a trip to the US to see the children. Soon after they landed, they were contacted by an organization, which asked him to speak at a parlor meeting that very evening to help raise money for an important project. Although the Dunners were jetlagged from the journey, Rabbi Dunner agreed to travel to Brooklyn and give a speech.

“He spoke to their hearts,” she says, “and explained the crucial need for such a vital project. Thanks to his words they managed to raise a significant sum that very night. Of course, he didn’t charge a penny for his time and effort. Before we left, the organizers expressed their appreciation saying they’ll never forget what he had done for them.”

Several months later, Rabbi and Mrs. Dunner were brainstorming for ways raise money for a project in Eastern Europe when Mrs. Dunner had an idea. “Let’s contact that organization in America!” she said. “Surely they’ll be able to help us.” She sent off an email reminding them of their connection and the good memories of that evening and asking for their assistance. Within minutes they received a reply, recalling his help, but explaining that they had no interest in being of assistance.

“Instead of getting upset, like any other person would, all my husband said was, ‘It’s fine. And if they’d ask me to speak again, I would not hesitate to do so.’ And believe me, he would have!” Mrs. Dunner says.

Every project they embarked on meant finding the money to cover it. That meant a lot of fundraising. “But my husband wouldn’t go to someone only for their money,” says Mrs. Dunner. “He had a personal relationship with anyone he came into contact with.

“We once visited a donor who used to give for various projects. That particular time he said he was not contributing, in a rather unfriendly tone. Aba accepted the man’s decision and continued sitting and chatting with him, inquiring about his family. The man continued, and was very rude. When we left, I asked, ‘Why did you allow him to humiliate you while you continued being nice to him?’ to which he replied, ‘I didn’t feel humiliated. I gave him the opportunity to be part of a mitzvah, which he decided not to accept. When a person chooses not to give, he decides not to become a partner. Why should I feel humiliated?’

“That’s how my husband a”h saw all his klal efforts,” Mrs. Dunner continues. “It was an opportunity for donors to become a partner in a mitzvah. It changed my entire perspective on raising funds. I used to hesitate to ask people for contributions, but with that eye-opener, I no longer worry when I need to raise funds.”

Enabling his ideas to materialize required someone to manage the nitty-gritty.

“He was so busy innovating,” explains Mrs. Dunner, “that someone else had to take all those amazing concepts, bring them down to earth, and get them done. I’m much less of a creative person, but I am good at getting things done.”

Getting things done — a vague phrase, which included everything from talking to people in the highest echelons to filling out forms and taking care of paperwork.

“My mother gave a helping hand when we arranged the International Conference on Jewish Medical Ethics,” relates Dr. Patcas, who together with two other medical doctors developed and executed this vital convention. “The organizational and networking skills this required were of the highest level. Still, when we needed someone to transcribe all the lectures in preparation for publishing a book, she offered to do it, typing out hours of speeches from the recording.”

 

Twenty-Four Hours a Day

For this devoted couple, it was not a nine-to-five job; there was no such a thing as ‘I am not available.’

Mrs. Dunner recalls how the phone rang late one night for Rabbi Dunner. After what sounded like an intense conversation, her husband hung up and said he had to go out to take care of something.

“He came back early in the morning and shared the sad story. A young woman who was terminally ill was refusing to allow her husband and children to visit her. She was in a bad state and couldn’t find the courage to face them. The young lady’s mother had called Aba, begging for his help. He didn’t hesitate for a moment, got dressed, and went to visit the young woman, spending hours talking to her. When he spoke to people, he always made sure to put himself into their shoes. ‘I understand your pain,’ he told her, ‘but right now you are a wife and a mother. Your children need you, they want to feel your love, to sit on your lap….’ ”

Rabbi Dunner’s words penetrated and the ill woman allowed her family to visit. Two days later she passed away. “Nothing scared him, nothing stopped him. In those hours he forgot about his own life, nothing existed — just that woman.”

 

Never Forget

One project initiated by Rabbi Dunner, which ran for 15 years and is clearly close to the Mrs. Dunner’s heart, is Lo Tishkach, a database of Jews buried in Europe. She organized class trips to various locations to help the students reconnect with their heritage while collecting the necessary data.

“It was my mother’s idea to turn this project into an educational tool,” Dr. Patcas says. “She felt that if unaffiliated teenagers were involved, it would affect their Jewish identity.”

The students would first be tasked with cleaning up the beis hachayim. Then they were asked to go from headstone to headstone and trace the lettering; all pertinent information would then be entered into the database.

“This work evoked in them a feeling of connection to their past,” Mrs. Dunner explains. “It opened up a new world to them. They began thinking and asking questions like ‘where did my grandparents come from?’ They’d realize the heritage they were privy to and hopefully, it awoke in them a desire to come back.”

“A cemetery is not a sad place,” Mrs. Dunner reflects. “It’s a testimony of Jewish life of a bygone era. There was an active life with rabbanim, doctors, tailors, and water-carriers, fathers, mothers, and cousins, and then they died. It is a place that proves that kehillos existed in these places unfortunately, those we lost during the Holocaust don’t have that testimony.”

 

Continuing on Alone

Within three years this power couple managed to build a beautiful marriage and strengthen European Orthodox Jewry.

Sadly, it was not to last. In the summer of 2011, the illness Rabbi Dunner had been fighting for some time took his life. He left behind a grieving wife but a capable public servant.

In her years at Rabbi Dunner’s side, Mrs. Dunner had become privy to all the minutiae the job required. After Rabbi Dunner’s passing, Mrs. Dunner stayed on in her role at the CER, a position she filled until this past spring and continues her job running the office of the European Beis Din headed by Dayan Chanoch Ehrentreu. Today she runs the various seminars independently.

“Our objective was always the same,” she says. “I could start a sentence, and he would finish it, knowing exactly what I was thinking. In a way, Aba trained me to carry on with the work after his petirah. I still have the opportunity to continue my work, and I’m very grateful for that.”

She insists that it was he who did all the work, yet those in the know can attest to her orchestrating, directing, and facilitating incredible amounts of chesed. She continues all this work without fanfare or recognition, l’Sheim Shamayim.

The Dunner children were delighted when they learned that she would be continuing their father’s legacy. “We’re so happy that she stayed on to continue her work and are so proud of her. She does amazing things,” says Chava Dunner of Lakewood, a daughter-in-law.

“My mother has proven that a woman can be an askan,” Dr. Patcas says. “She has traveled the world assisting wherever necessary — joining Aba in Japan to procure the release of the bochurim back in 2010, or joining him at meetings of Holocaust claims conferences, to name a couple. She was in contact with Rav Moshe Shapiro ztz”l, especially when she was working on building mikvaos in Eastern Europe. She has built up a tremendous network of eminent personalities and will never hesitate to contact when there is a need.”

Chava Dunner attests to her mother-in-law’s stamina and initiative to get things done single-handedly. “There’s so much she accomplishes unassisted! She continues my father-in-law’s work in building mikvaos. I recall her working on getting a mikveh built in the Ukraine,” she relates, “unassumingly traveling all over to raise funds. The fact that it’s in use today is all in her merit and is a big zechus for us children.”

In her work for Dayan Ehrentreu, Mrs. Dunner facilitates the necessities needed for his traveling beis din, such as organizing gittin, scheduling a din Torahs, assisting people in their process of giyur, and arranging a mohel for Jewish families across Europe, sometimes a specialist to perform a bris on an adult.

“There’s a need for help all over, and I’m fortunate to have the ability to provide it,” Mrs. Dunner says. “A while ago, three young rebbetzins from Eastern Europe called me explaining that there wasn’t anyone in their area who knew how to perform a taharah. I organized a seminar provided by our chevra kaddisha for these ladies. A while later one of them informed me that a man in their community had passed away and she taught her husband how to perform this holy task.”

Another time she received a call from a community who could no longer afford to replenish their dwindling stock of tachrichim. Mrs. Dunner collected the necessary funds, purchased the shrouds, and shipped them to the kehillah.

Mrs. Dunner does not limit her efforts to her job-description. “She always goes beyond her required task,” says a daughter-in-law. “For example, when someone undergoes the process of giyur at the beis din, she’ll make sure this person becomes integrated into the community, will introduce them to people, and help them acclimate to their new surroundings. Beyond the physical help, there’s the emotional caring that continues for years.”

And, of course, there’s the Rebbetzins Conference, the venue of our first meeting. “The role of the rebbetzin in a modern world is an evolving one,” Mrs. Dunner explains, “no longer is it fulfilled by organizing a bikur cholim or bringing a cake to a shivah house.

“It’s a new world in which the rebbetzin has to deal with things like marital issues or divorce, drugs, at-risk teenagers in the community. She has to be much more hands-on. These are topics we try to cover.” From the original conference grew other, more specialized conferences: a seminar for kallah teachers in Minsk, seminars for mikveh ladies in Leipzig, Odessa, Minsk, and Moscow… the list continues.

Pulling off a summit is always a difficult feat, and while Mrs. Dunner insists that she’s “second in command,” it’s clear that nothing would happen without her perseverance and determination. She deals with logistical planning, scheduling, finding speakers and fund-raising (save for the traveling fees, the entire conference, including hotel and food for all attendees, is sponsored).

“It’s always a neis,” Mrs. Dunner laughs. “I start off planning without any funds, and somehow it works out. It’s always touch-and-go with many sleepless nights. I do it because there is a need, they tell me how helpful it is to them.

“Right before Yom Tov a rebbetzin called me, and when I informed her of an upcoming rebbetzin conference that I was in the midst of planning, she got very excited. ‘You cannot imagine what a life-changer the previous conferences have been for us. I constantly implement the tools I got there.’”

 

Opportunities

For many, asking for help is difficult, yet Mrs. Dunner stresses: “People should understand that needing help is not a weakness, but another form of giving. By taking the assistance offered, you’re allowing those able to fulfill the need of giving. And one never knows how, in time, the receiver will end up benefitting someone else.”

“I believe my mother is a true example and inspiration of how much one single person can achieve without fanfare and noise,” Rabbi Patcas observes. “Grab whatever opportunity you can, step out of the box, and do something with it!”

“She always overcomes hindrances,” his brother adds, “every stumbling block becomes a stepping stone.”

“It’s extraordinary how she has such a deep enjoyment in giving,” Rabbi Patcas observes, “not just because ‘it says so in Mesilas Yesharim’ or ‘Rav Dessler says,’ but because this is her true essence. She has no cheshbonos, no tit for tat.”

“No one is exempt from hardship,” reflects Mrs. Dunner. “But what gets us through is having others to turn to, and know that others care for us in our hour of need. “Life is like a stage,” she explains. “When going through a nisayon there will always be one issue in the spotlight, while the other needs remain unnoticed on the darkened stage. Having someone care for those so-called little things is very important.”

“Helping each other is what we’re all here for,” she adds “We can all share the good things and provide chizuk from the not such good things we have experienced. Human frailty comes in all ages and stages, and we can all learn from each other.”

While she agrees that chesed should be imbibed in childhood, Mrs. Dunner feels that one must make it part of his nature. “In truth, anything one does in life cannot only come from outside influence, it also needs to be part of you,” Mrs. Dunner points out. “And when you do something with passion your whole essence lights up — because you’re living your purpose.”

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 620)

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