“Mordy, thank you. Thank you for your courage in sharing a chapter of your life that most people would try to bury forever”

Blazing Caution Lights [Open Mic / 1070]

There are articles that inform. Others that entertain. And then there are articles that pierce — cutting through the fog of daily distraction and landing directly on the heart. Mordy Berkowitz’s raw and painfully honest piece, “Some Mistakes Can’t Be Undone,” is one of those rare pieces of writing that cannot — and must not — be forgotten.

Mordy, thank you. Thank you for your courage in sharing a chapter of your life that most people would try to bury forever. Thank you for giving voice to the searing pain of one irreversible moment — and not only your pain, but that of your parents, family, and friends who are now serving a sentence of their own, living every day with a grief and shame they never deserved. And thank you most of all for using your story as a warning — not to stir pity, but to prevent tragedy.

Reading your article, one thing comes through loud and clear: The pain is still alive. It hasn’t dulled with time. And your willingness to relive that agony in public, for the sake of others, is the very definition of responsible teshuvah. You are doing what you can to ensure that no one else follows your path. And that is no small act.

Let me say this without hesitation: If even one single incident is prevented because someone read your article — if one teenager takes a step back, or one friend intervenes — then your writing has already saved a life.

That makes your piece not only worthwhile — it makes it heroic.

And let me make a clear and direct suggestion: Your article should be required reading for every single teenager before they ever touch a steering wheel. Driver’s Ed is a standard course. This needs to be part of the curriculum: not as a side note or extra reading, but as an essential, front-and-center warning. A real story. A real person. Real consequences.

Furthermore, every parent who hands a child the keys to a car should be handed a copy of your article at the same time. It is their responsibility to pause — to look into the eyes of the son or daughter standing before them — and realize that the price of silence, naivete, or misplaced trust could be a destroyed life, or worse.

Now, let me pause for a moment and acknowledge the elephant in the room. The broader subject of alcohol use in our community is, to put it bluntly, a catastrophe. Simchahs, parlor meetings, shalom zachars, even Purim… What was once a token l’chayim has become a socially tolerated culture of intoxication, often among minors and teenagers, sometimes with adult approval. That crisis deserves its own full conversation, its own forum, and its own urgent response.

But that is not today’s subject.

Today, we are not talking about drinking; we are talking about driving while under the influence. That one-second decision that crosses a line from private irresponsibility to public danger. That one reckless moment that can take a life, shatter a family, and send a bochur from the beis medrash to a prison cell. This is not about whether the boy “felt fine” or whether it was “only a little.” This is about an irreversible choice with irreversible consequences.

And that’s what makes Mordy’s message so urgent. This isn’t about being a bad person. Mordy wasn’t a bad person. He was a regular bochur, with friends, dreams, and parents who loved him. He made a decision that countless others have made — but this time, someone didn’t survive. And from that moment on, nothing was ever the same.

Please, let us not brush this aside. Let us not imagine this was a freak incident or an isolated tragedy. Let us not cling to the illusion that “our boys know better.” If our boys are drinking, then our boys are at risk. And if they’re driving after drinking — even once — then we, the adults, will bear the guilt of not having spoken loudly enough, early enough, and clearly enough.

If you are a teenager reading this, please: Be smarter than your moment. Think ahead. Make a plan. Hand over the keys. Stay the night. Take a car service. Be the one who speaks up when a friend says, “I’m good.” Mordy thought he was fine. But one wrong turn, one curve too fast, one split second — and a life was lost. Don’t be that story.

Mordy, your story has already begun to save lives. May Hashem give you the strength to keep using your voice, and may no parent, sibling, or friend ever again have to write the words you’ve written — not from behind bars, and not from behind a gravestone.

With deep respect and gratitude,

Binyomin Ginsberg
Toms River, NJ

Serves a Purpose [Inbox / Issue 1070]

I am very confused by the letters against class chats because of the negative comments written against teachers, and everything else they involve.

I’m not sure what they are referring to as my kids’ class chats never ever have had any lashon hora or any negative connotation against any staff member (or anyone in Klal Yisrael). I’ve been on these chats for a number of years with more than one kid!

No need to “chuck the chat.” It’s practical, helpful, facilitates lots of chesed and has only good vibes.

A Parent at YTCTE,

Miami, Florida

Our Lifeline in the IDF [Soldier On / Issue 1070]

In 2017, my son Dovid informed us that he wanted to join the IDF. As ours is a yeshivish home, this was rather unexpected. There was always a strong atmosphere of love of Eretz Yisrael in our home, but this really shook us.

Through HaKadosh Baruch Hu’s kindness and Hashgachah pratis, I attended a neighborhood fundraiser for Chayal el Chayal and met Ari Abramowitz. From that moment on, Ari has been the anchor, guiding light and source of moral support as we navigated Dovid’s enlistment in the IDF.

There was absolutely NO WAY we would have made it through without Ari’s guidance and support. He helped Dovid acclimate and navigate the myriad challenges that he faced as a lone soldier. He helped us stay calm through very challenging moments of Dovid’s enlistment.

Most importantly, he helped Dovid reintegrate into civilian life back home here in Monsey.

October 7 was a challenge, since Dovid’s first reaction was, “I need to go back to my plugah!” Having a newborn son and a recuperating wife held him back from returning to Israel. This was excruciatingly painful for Dovid. He was torn between two very strong beliefs. Ari again stepped in to provide the guidance and support our son needed.

Both Rabbi and Mrs. Abramowitz and NEVUT continue to provide outstanding support and guidance to many lone soldiers and their families that reach out to them. Kol kakavod to them, and may they go meichayil el chayil.

With great appreciation for ALL they do,

Joy and Chaim Stimmel

Counselors Are Role Models [Sharing Light / Issue 1070]

A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I read “Sharing Light” by Chaia Frishman. The muggy Queens evenings, the days in Hartman Y, neighborhood night activity of chasing fireflies... the memories were warm (literally, hot and muggy) so many years later. Within minutes of reading her submission, I shared my bunk picture from Hartman Y with Chaia... Turns out we were there at the same time (along with several other of our current Far Rockaway friends).

But the incident that Chaia Frishman eloquently recalled underscores the important role that our summer counselors play in both day camp and sleepaway camp. A moment that could have left a vulnerable child humiliated turned into a positive learning experience that is fondly recollected decades later.

Thank you to the counselors of yesterday, today, and tomorrow for being role models for us and for our children. You could have chosen another way to spend your vacation, but instead you opted to share a light that will positively impact the future.

Elisheva Perlstein,

Far Rockaway

Oldie but Goodie [Standing Ovation / Issue 1070]

I love reading the Standing Ovation column each month. It brings beautiful memories back to us all. It was wonderful to read about the song “Hashem Is Here,” which is so famous.

In the early 1980s, when I was a teacher at the King David School in Sydney, Australia (part of Moriah College), we used to have a special week in July (your American summer, but winter Down Under) called Education Week. During this week, schools would highlight their educational programs.

One year, on the Wednesday of that week, we were going to have a special assembly with parents and grandparents. Children would daven together, sing songs, and put on a show for the audience. It just so happened that Rabbi Goldstein (Uncle Yossi) was visiting his family in Sydney at that time, and I thought it would be a great opportunity for him to be our guest speaker for the assembly. I asked permission from the principal and I was given the go-ahead.

The big day arrived and there was a huge crowd. After davening, I gave Uncle Yossi a huge welcome. In a flash, he connected with the kids and the adults. His beautiful way with words and his American accent drew the crowd in. He told the kids about little Avraham at age three going to look for G-d. On the spot, he began to sing and teach the kids the song “Hashem Is Here.” The kids were doing all the motions as well, and at the end he even tied it in with the meaning of real education.

Needless to say, after that assembly the kids sang that song at every Shabbos party. To see Uncle Yossi in action with this kind of audience was a real kiddush Hashem. Today when we do children’s rallies we call out “now here’s an oldie but a goodie,” and of course the kids belt out “Hashem Is Here.” These songs may be old but they are the famous Jewish evergreens.

Uncle Velvel

Entertainer and educator

Sydney, Australia

Torah Is Different [For the Record / Issue 1069]

While I don’t always get to read the full issue of Mishpacha each week, I try not to miss the For the Record from my two favorite writers and historians, Reb Dovi and Reb Yehuda, as I always learn something new. A recent piece, “A Shlichus Like No Other,” didn’t disappoint. I always felt that the yeshivah world is not sufficiently aware or appreciative of the major contributions that Rav Avraham Chaim Naeh has made to Torah scholarship. They do now.

I would like to just add one small tidbit to their closing paragraph that I think is very significant. The last paragraph talks about the incredible respect that the two giants of their time, Rav Avrohom Chaim and the Chazon Ish, had for each other, and how their profound disagreements about the various measurements of the Torah didn’t detract from their mutual respect and admiration for each other. While that is of course true, there is a fascinating tidbit to their relationship that I had heard directly from Rav Chaim Kanievsky that I would like to share. (There are various versions of this story; I am sharing it exactly as I heard it from Rav Chaim.)

When Rav Chaim was a young yeshivah bochur learning in Petach Tikvah, he would return home to Bnei Brak every Shabbos to bask in the presence of his illustrious uncle, the Chazon Ish. As a result, he was sometimes the messenger to bring letters back and forth from Rav Naeh to the Chazon Ish. On one such occasion, as Rav Naeh handed him a letter of correspondence, he asked Rav Chaim to deliver a message to the Chazon Ish as well. He said, “Please tell your uncle, the revered Chazon Ish, that while he is truly great in all aspects of Torah, this topic of ‘measurements’ is something I have dedicated my entire adult life to and he should therefore accept my position on this one topic as the correct one.” After the young Rav Chaim delivered this message to his uncle, the Chazon Ish asked him to bring back a message. He said, “Please tell the distinguished Rav that he is incorrect. In other forms of knowledge in the world, there are experts in one field and not in another. A scientist will not render an opinion on mathematics and a mathematician will not render an opinion on science. However, Torah is different. A gadol in Torah can be an expert on every facet of Torah that encompasses every facet of knowledge. And so, despite his years of study in this issue and his mastery of the subject, I have the right to disagree and voice my own opinion. Please tell him that despite his last letter to me with additional proofs, I still feel that my position on the Torah’s measurements is the correct one.”

There are so many important lessons to learn from this story that speaks volumes for itself.

Rabbi Chaim Aryeh Zev Ginzberg

Cedarhurst, NY

He Would’ve Done the Same [Double Take-Guilt Trip / Issue 1069]

Ouch! Ezzy’s friend bailed on him at the last minute, leaving Ezzy without any friends in camp. But I think Ezzy’s mom, Ahuva, should’ve empathized with her son, and then discussed the reality of the situation. The backing out wasn’t done maliciously: Would Ezzy have given up an awesome opportunity to travel with his grandparents and cousins? Not likely.

Ahuva should have then encouraged Ezzy to make the best of the way things worked out — precisely according to Hashem’s plan. Going to camp with a good attitude would have been the first step toward having a great summer even without Shua.

Elkie Kantor,

Yerushalayim

Lifesaving Ideas [Perspectives / Issue 1068]

I am writing in response to the lifesaving article written by Dr. Berman. The trends in hospital-based medical care that he highlights are very important for us to be aware of as frum Jews. As Dr. Berman describes, the care in hospitals has become wholly impersonal, and the focus on quality of life leads to very biased advice, leaving families confused and struggling to make life-or-death decisions. Baruch Hashem we have rabbanim to turn to for clear halachic guidance, but the process of battling hospital staff who have values antithetical to Torah values can be daunting.

As the granddaughter of the first oncologist in St. Louis, I have heard countless stories of my Zadie’s devotion to his patients in and out of the hospital. He would sit with patients and their families, providing medical care and emotional support, never giving up until the very end. My Zadie knew his patients; he knew them before they became sick. He knew the vibrant life they lived and the family members who cared about them, all by name.

Although doctors can no longer provide this level of care for their patients in the hospital, my family implemented some strategies to simulate this model that we learned from my Zadie. I would like to share those ideas in hopes that they can lead to improved care for others as well.

1. Having a family member always present in the hospital, paying attention, advocating and asking questions, can be lifesaving.

My mother and her siblings took round the clock shifts ensuring my Bubbie was never alone toward the end of her life. There were countless times when their questions unearthed a mistake, however small, that could have led to a negative result.

That leads me to the next idea:

2. Enlist the guidance of a medical professional you trust who can either act as a liaison with the medical staff or at the very least help you decipher the medical terminology, understand the pros and cons of procedures, or interpret the results of a test, so you can ask educated questions. My father has been able to act in this capacity for close family members who have been in the hospital, always available to help interpret bloodwork, craft questions for the doctors, or even act as a direct liaison.
3. Show the medical staff who your loved one really is.

My husband works in the operating room and has said that some of his patients have pictures in their charts, which helps the team involved in the surgery catch a glimpse of the patient when they were healthy. He has seen how this can create a positive shift in the attitude of those involved in the patient’s care.

When my Bubbie was in the hospital, he adapted this concept and recommended that my mother and siblings line my Bubbie’s hospital room with pictures of her as a young woman, and pictures of her with her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. My mother said the attitude of the staff that entered the room changed immediately.  Comments such as, “Wow, is this your mother?! She was so vibrant and beautiful!” and, “Are all of these children and grandchildren hers? I wish I could be part of a family like this,” replaced the indifferent or even reluctant attitudes of the medical and support staff that entered her room. Despite her age and her waning health, my Bubbie was treated with a new sense of dignity and respect.

If you have an elderly family member in the hospital, I urge you to try at least one of these ideas. With wishes for good health and arichus yamim for all of Klal Yisrael.

T. S.

St. Louis, MO

Dangerous Influence [The Current / Issue 1068]

Mamdani has more power than you think.

So many people are brushing off Mamdani, saying, “What could he really do?” Here’s something people don’t realize. He will appoint the next Chancellor of Education for the City of New York

Some may not care because we send our kids to yeshivos. However, public school kids who don’t know George Washington from George Bush, who don’t know simple multiplication or where North America is on a world map, will be taught that Israel is an apartheid state.

Students who don’t know the Star-Spangled Banner will know the slogan “from the river to the sea.”

These are the children of our neighbors and our colleagues, and it’s a cause for concern. The future mentality of our city is at risk.

Mamdani may not be able to turn our city into a socialist state, but more dangerously, he has the power to make impressions on young minds.

A concerned voter

Contribution to History [Living in the Past / Issue 1068]

I thoroughly enjoyed the article about YIVO by Yehudah Geberer. It was uplifting and informative, and it showed how each of us have something to contribute to our people and our history.

As it happens, we are downsizing our house, and in the catacombs of our basement we have quite an extensive collection of old photos and writings. Among those writings was a journal I always knew about but didn’t know how to handle. It was written by one of my aunts kept when she visited Mandatory Palestine with her grandmother, back in 1929. Her father, my zeide, had booked passage on a ship when my aunt was only 18 years old. The pages are still in good condition and the writing legible, if you take the time to understand her particular script.

I contacted the Canadian Jewish Congress’s archive division here in Montreal, and they said yes, they would be very interested in seeing what the journal was all about. So I donated it to them, with acknowledgement of receipt.

And now my family, like many others, has added its own history to that of our enduring people.

Peretz Mann

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1071)