Whistle Blower

Name: Leah G., Travel agent, Jerusalem

I thought I’d seen it all (the woman who wanted to book tickets for all her daughters-in-law besides “the one she didn’t like” comes to mind), but nothing tops the time I landed my client behind bars.

I had a regular customer, a prominent professional and community leader, who asked me to book his family a trip to Israel. Too busy to take the time to read me his credit card details, he told me to just “book it under the same credit card I used for Sternbluch’s* ticket [a bochur whose tickets he regularly sponsored].”

But my secretary missed the name and came up with a recent traveler named Sternstein* (not Sternbluch). “Okay, I found the ticket,” she said. “Do you want me to book your trip on the same AmEx card ending in 1234?”

“Yes, AmEx card ending in 1234,” my client responded. As luck would have it, Sternstein also had an AmEx card whose last four digits were the same as my client’s.

So we went ahead and booked my client’s trip — hotel, flights for himself and his kids, car rental, the works — under the wrong card. When Sternstein got his credit card statement, he was alarmed to see a whopper bill on his card that he hadn’t spent.

Now here’s where things get interesting (well, depends who you ask). Instead of calling the credit card company or El Al, he asked the Boro Park police, with whom he had connections, to show up at the gate and arrest the fraudulent user of his credit card when he tried to board the plane.

So there was my client, settling into his seat on a packed Erev Yom Tov flight, when the police showed up and arrested him and his wife for identity theft and credit card fraud. They handcuffed the couple and led them off the plane. Yes, really.

My client called me from the police station, flipping out. I was in America at the time, and freaked out when I heard what happened. My husband and I — together with my father and my newborn baby — ran to the police station. I walked in and found my client sitting there in handcuffs. He looked at me and said, “Leah, just tell me, how did you get me into this mess?”

I had my laptop on me, but there was no Wi-Fi in the police station, so we ran across the street to the Mishpacha offices. They were very nice and gave me a desk to work at. I printed out all the Sternbluch/Sternstein invoices, to show that the two names had tickets booked under AmEx cards both ending with the same last four digits. This was a simple error of the wrong card being charged — not credit card fraud!

After the police understood the mistake, they felt terrible for arresting an innocent guy, and were scared that they could get into trouble. They called El Al and said, “You must get this guy and his wife on the next flight.” But it was high Yom Tov season and there were no flights available.

I ran back to the Mishpacha office to use their computer again to try to find tickets. Using some connections, I managed to pull strings and got this couple on the next flight — with an upgrade to business class. Meanwhile, my husband bought them food, and we drove them right back to the airport.

The next day, my client sent me flowers, and yes, he remained a loyal customer.

Identity Crisis

Name: Yaffa Kagan, Boro Park real estate attorney

People just aren’t used to frum female attorneys. Some of my clients think I’m a secretary; if I’m lucky they’ll assume I’m a paralegal.

Some clients are surprised to get a call from a secretary who knows so much about the process and want to know if I’m training for law school. I’ve had clients refuse to talk to me about their deals, and insist on talking to “the lawyer.” My boss has gotten comments and requests, usually from the more chassidish clients for whom it’s not as common for women to be professionals, to please not have the secretary handle their closing. He always makes sure to let them know I’m an attorney just like him and am just as capable!

Once we get that straight, it’s my turn to educate them, when they ask questions like “Can I QuickPay the $200,000 down payment to the seller?” or “Can we close within the week?” (It usually takes two months.)

Then there was the buyer of an investment property who said, “I don’t like the tenants, could the seller just replace them with different tenants before closing?”

Little did he know, it’s basically impossible to get tenants out of a property in New York — even if the tenants are doing illegal activities on the premises, violating the terms of the lease, and not paying rent.

One Plus One

Name: Doniel Soloff, director of Agudath Israel Professional Career Services

AT PCS, we often field inquiries about the various tracks we offer. Somebody reached out to us about our real estate course, concerned that he wouldn’t learn anything new. I offered him a deal: He could take the course for free on the condition that he return 50 percent of the profits earned from any “new” information he learned at the course.

He smiled, declined the offer, and paid in full.

And while most of our matchmaking efforts are to set up job seekers with employers, sometimes we engage in matchmaking in the more conventional sense. When an elderly man saw ads for our master’s in accounting course, run in conjunction with Fairleigh Dickinson University, he reached out to us.

“This program must attract high-caliber professionals,” he said, “and I have an amazing 25-year-old granddaughter who is looking for an ehrliche professional. Who is the best single guy in this course? And could you redt him to my granddaughter?”

He launched into a glowing description of the girl, and then asked where he could send her shidduch résumé to.

We tried to help his granddaughter, and passed along the résumé to a few of our well-connected staff and board members. Nothing came to fruition, but you never know! And then we’ll have an in-house accountant to crunch the numbers for shadchanus gelt.

Doctor’s Orders

Name: Dr. S., Pediatrician

Several nights a month, I take emergency calls, which can be interesting at times. Once, at 4:17 a.m., a mom called about her toddler’s fever. “My son had shots a few days ago, and I want to know if the shots have caused this fever.”

“It’s 4:17!” I responded. “Why does it matter?”

“Because if the fever is from the shots, I can send him to the babysitter tomorrow morning,” she answered.

During the heat of the Covid pandemic, the phone rang steadily throughout the night. People were terrified. But even then, there were definitely lighter moments. One mom called at 2:00 a.m. requesting a refill for her child’s allergy medication. Another message (that had been left earlier in the day) mistakenly came in the middle of the night asking for my Pesach meat pizza recipe.

But the best was the hysterical new mom who called at 3:00 a.m. about her kvetchy baby. “Give the baby Tylenol and call back in the morning,” I said.

To which the mom then asked, “Should I wake up the baby to give him Tylenol?”

“No, wake me up instead!” I was tempted to respond. Instead, I wished her baby a refuah sheleimah. I’ve learned to be kind to all of my patients, and never to judge.

Speechless

Name: Shifra Cymet, Lakewood real estate agent

Officially, I deal in real estate. But one seller turned me into his honorary rebbetzin and asked me where he could buy a kesubah and chuppah for his daughter’s wedding. I directed him to a rabbi.

One Toms River seller, traditional but not religious, asked me to get him a “kosher, juicy, hot pastrami and schnitzel sandwich with coleslaw and tomatoes” because it would “connect him to his Jewish roots.” I actually did pick up the sandwich and left it at his door.

But his wife was annoyed and texted me, “Thank you very much but my husband is watching his weight.”  (I don’t know if he ate the sandwich or not, but I hope he’ll find a more authentic way of connecting to his Jewish roots.)

Then there was the buyer who found the perfect house in the perfect neighborhood, but was very nervous. Deals can fall through at the last second, especially in the very tight Lakewood market. She asked if I could take on a machsom l’fi and be careful with my shmiras halashon until her deal went through.

Well, that was a new one for me, but I agreed, and the deal went through within a few hours of  starting my machsom l’fi. Shalom through careful speech brings brachah. I’ve kept up this machsom l’fi and seen tremendous brachah in my deals.

Caught Red-Handed

Name: Shuey N., Chaveirim member

People reach out to Chaveirim with all sorts of requests, and we sometimes get a front-row seat to some peculiar situations. On one of my first calls, I was prying open a car door for a couple who was locked out of their car. Just then, the car’s owner showed up. Whoops! The couple had been trying to get into the wrong black Camry.

Then there was the guy who called at 3 a.m. saying that he was locked out of his house. I ran over and began fidgeting with the doorknob. When I started banging, the guy asked me to please be quiet because his wife was sleeping inside. I told him to have his wife open the door, and headed back home.

Angels In Black & White

Name: Rabbi Yehuda Kaszirer, Director, Lev Rochel Bikur Cholim

Covid-19 brought unique and difficult challenges in its wake, and Bikur Cholim dealt with requests that were a matter of life and death.

That first Pesach was terrifying, with so many people in the hospital on ventilators. To make things worse, many intubated patients went into rapid kidney failure and needed dialysis to stay alive, but there weren’t enough machines to go around. On a good day it’s hard to get machines; during Covid there were none to be found.

On Erev Yom Tov of the second days of Pesach, I found out that Chesy Kauftheil had a few machines for his dialysis center in Neptune, New Jersey, and we could have them. The problem was they weren’t assembled yet, and it would take a week for the company to assemble them (there was only one employee working then). I had to think fast.

“How about we assemble the machines ourselves and then have the company approve them for safety?” I suggested.

It was already Yom Tov when 15 volunteers from Bikur Cholim and Chaveirim drove to the dialysis center in Neptune with our tools. (We were in contact with our rabbanim, who paskened that this was a matter of pikuach nefesh.) When we got to the center, their employee showed us what to do, and we began assembling machines. Imagine taking a bike with a million pieces straight out of an Ikea box; that’s kind of what we were doing, but we were putting together dialysis machines.

After three hours, the 15 of us had finished, and the company representative inspected everything for safety. We loaded the machines into the back of a Hatzolah ambulance and drove straight to Brooklyn, where we delivered the machines to Maimonides Hospital. The hospital had a team inspect the machines, and within hours patients were hooked up to them. I arrived home at midnight, where my family had waited for me to start the seudah.

Later on, when monoclonal antibody treatment became available, Bikur Cholim stepped up again. One Friday, we had 25 people desperately waiting for treatment, but there was a big snowstorm in the Midwest and the medication was coming from Texas. Could we accommodate these people before Shabbos, when the zeman was at 4:15 p.m.?

We got through to the regional manager of FedEx, who tracked our package, and told us it would be arriving at Newark Airport at 12 noon. He sent a special FedEx truck to the airport and then directly to Bikur Cholim. We had 25 patients sitting in their Shabbos clothing, with IVs in their hands, and 20 nurses waiting to administer the treatment.

The truck showed up 30 minutes before the zeman. I went out to get the package, and within minutes the nurses successfully administered the treatment. And yes, everyone made it home before Shabbos.

Make Me a Match

Name: Lisa Elefant, shadchan and founder of Adopt a Shadchan 

ATAdopt a Shadchan, we’ve started a tefillah initiative where singles daven for singles, mothers for mothers, and shadchanim daven for other shadchanim’s success. We’ve seen several sets of singles (some of whom were in their thirties) get engaged within days of each other. We all know and believe Hashem is in charge of shidduchim, but it’s still amazing when we see it.

I’ve learned that you never know where the right one will come from. A guy once called me after a date. “The girl was nice, and the date went well,” he said. “But before the date, I mistakenly knocked on the next-door neighbor’s door. The girl who answered the door seemed perfect for me. Can you please redt me to her?”

I did… and they got engaged.

Yes to the Dress

Name: Rachel Mizrahi, Clothing Manufacturer

You get used to lots of varied requests in this business. A woman once asked me to manufacture special modesty coverings for women to use when getting in and out of their cars. Then during Covid, when the Canadian factories were shut, a company asked me to manufacture their robes. I had to explain to my factory workers what a robe was — the idea that elegant eveningwear is really meant for casual wear around the house is unique to frum women — but I was happy to help.

I was once contacted by the owner of a women’s boutique, who sounded frantic. She’d put aside a dress from one of my labels in her back room to wear to her sister’s wedding. It was the perfect dress, the wedding was tomorrow, and her employee mistakenly sold the dress! Could I please get her a new one ASAP?

She was a good customer and I really wanted to help. The search was on! I checked our warehouse. None. I called every store in the Tristate area that carried the dress. None. I started calling international stores and bingo, I finally tracked down one remaining dress in London.

The store owner wasn’t keen on parting with it — it was a hot seller — but after enough begging, she agreed to send it back. I overnighted it to New York, and thankfully it arrived in time before the wedding!  Over the years I’ve learned that when something is bashert, it happens.

Beating the System

Name: Chaya Katz,* Cheder Office Manager

AS an office manager, I sometimes think I’ve seen it all, from the steady procession of students requesting everything from phones to Band-Aids, to the couple that brought along several children for their son’s interview and asked the office staff to babysit.

But nothing tops the innovative father who tried (successfully!) to beat the system. As a family friend, he knew that I worked in the school, and called to ask me a favor.

“Hey, could you just stick my son on the acceptance list? And make sure he stays there?”

I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I did, and his son was accepted. (He happened to have come from a great family and the school was happy to take him in.)

Don’t try this at home, though! It’s not exactly foolproof.

Ringside Seats

Name: Cindy N., Shul Secretary, Jersey Shore

INmy capacity as shul secretary, I find the High Holidays tend to be the most hectic time of the year. But I’ve been doing the seating arrangements for 22 years, so I have it down to a science, and I take everyone’s quirks in stride. (“Put me near the AC, away from the AC; near my son-in-law, awaaaay from my son-in-law; I want to see the chazzan, I don’t want to see the chazzan; I want an aisle seat, I want a window seat.”) A guy once asked me for the “best seat in the house.” I put him all the way up front, but after the Holidays he was mad at me because “everyone saw how late I came! I wanted a seat in the back!”

One year I was out before Rosh Hashanah, and the seating had to be improvised. I came back before Yom Kippur to make order. Yom Kippur was on a Shabbos; by 6 p.m. on Thursday, I had a masterpiece of a seating chart.

Minutes after emailing it out to everyone, I got a frantic call from the rabbi. “Where are the Cohens’ (not the real name) seats?”

“Don’t worry, they didn’t request seats this year,” I replied.

“They’ve sponsored the $50,000 honor for Kol Nidrei,” the rabbi answered, aghast. “Of course, they want seats! I told them they would have 14 seats in the front row.”

I stayed until midnight, maneuvering things around, offering seat discounts and counseling to irritated shul members. I had to put some congregants downstairs and some in the second location.

But the Cohens had their front row seats for Kol Nidrei, so all’s well that ends well.

Snap Delivery

Name:  Yussi Weisz, Owner of Snaps Kosher, Lakewood

A few years ago, the son of a good friend of mine was in a bad car accident in Virginia and ended up in a hospital there for a few weeks. (He’s fine now, baruch Hashem.) When I called to wish him a refuah sheleimah, I asked if there was anything I could do to help.

“Yes,” he jokingly answered. “I want a Snaps burger for dinner!”

I took him up on it. I called my friend Sruli Thaler, from Trademark Security, who is also a pilot, and we rented a plane from the Lakewood airport. My wife went to pick up the food (we brought along a lot more than a burger!) while Sruli and I fueled up the plane.

The flight was kind of tumultuous — I was scared that the tiny plane would fall out of the air — but we made it to Virginia and showed up at the hospital with a fresh Snaps burger. The boy couldn’t believe it and thought I was “totally crazy!” I told him that was true!

We spent the next few hours at the boy’s bedside, which was very meaningful to him because we were his first visitors in two weeks.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 907)