Daylight is still distinguishable in New Square; soon night will fall in this upstate New York town. It is now three minutes to six. The date: Monday the fifth of Tishrei 2010. Five weeks ago.

It is Aseres yemei teshuvah with its accompanying solemnity and heaviness spiritual closeness not withstanding. Suddenly a wild fire erupts from one of the homes on Truman Avenue. Within moments fire fighters leap into action but a quick look tells them that there’s not a chance of overcoming the ravaging blaze consuming the building. The family members all of whom have emerged safely are off to the side among the dozens of bystanders watching with horror as everything they own turns into fuel for the flames. One person however is standing calm and erect even… joyous. “We should break out dancing now ” he says to his children. “Hashem has watched over us and no one was trapped in the fire. We are all here safe and sound.”

The last time the flames of destruction engulfed Rabbi Moshe Menachem Taubenfeld’s family seven years ago twenty-three people were killed including his wife Goldie and their six-month-old son Shmuli. It was on the #2 bus loaded with worshippers coming back from the Kosel.

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