Although I never met Zaida, I now feel his presence in my life

MY eyes are closed as I listen to a scratchy cassette recording of my paternal grandfather’s strong, passionate voice. As Rav Yaakov Schapiro fervently sings the tefillah of Bircas Hachodesh, his voice envelops me with love. I feel safe, protected, and connected to my Zaida, whose voice had been hidden for nearly six decades.

After the Anschluss in 1938, my father’s family and their entire community were expelled from their homes in Kittsee, Austria by the Nazis. With only the clothes on their backs, and with no neighboring country willing to take them in, the group of 60-odd Jews were placed on a rat-infested cargo barge for months and then confined to a detention camp for over a year. Even while finding himself in a most perilous and frightening situation, Zaida Yaakov was filled with optimism and hakaras hatov. In a letter to his chavrusa during the harrowing ordeal, without minimizing the trauma, he wrote, “There are no words that can adequately express my deep sense of gratitude to Hashem for the kindness He did on behalf of my family.”

My family was granted asylum and arrived in the United States just prior to the outbreak of the war. They settled in Spring Valley, New York. Zaida Yaakov was instrumental in establishing the Yeshiva of Spring Valley, which today has an enrollment of over 1,800 students. But in a tragic turn of fate, in 1945 he passed away suddenly at the age of 42, due to complications from surgery. His widow and four children were shocked and pained into a silence that lasted for years.