Everyone in the music industry started out at some point, and yes, as all of us were all children once

The first song I ever wrote lyrics to was during my bar mitzvah summer in Camp Kol Ree Nah. The camp went on a trip, and as we were boarding the bus, they gave out green baseball caps to all the campers. I can’t tell you how unappealing they were, but we were told they were free and that we had to wear them, much to our embarrassment. When we arrived back at camp, the head counselor announced that they’d be taking off a dollar from everyone’s canteen money — quite a lot of money for a kid in those days — to pay for the hat. I was only 13, but during supper, I sat down and penned words to the tune of “Frère Jacques.” I won’t burden you with the whole song, but the chorus was, “How much did the hats cost, how much did the hats cost, twenty cents, twenty cents…” Anyone in camp with me who still remembers that ditty?

Many of today’s popular performers got an early push into the industry, starting out when they were just kids, although at the time, most of them never realized it was a foreshadowing of what was yet to come. (Can you recognize the kids in the pictures?)

Youngest Hire

Shloime Dachs got his first job was when he was just eight years old, and he’ll never forget it — it was the first time he was actually paid to sing. A year before, he’d joined seventh and eighth graders in the Yeshivah Torah Vodaath school choir, and he would become a concert soloist with Tzlil V’Zemer, Amudai Shaish, and Miami Boys Choir. But when he was hired by Cheryl Knobel and Rivkah Neumann to sing on 613 Torah Avenue (can you recall the song “It’s Time to Learn Torah Right Now”?), he was paid a whopping $125 — his first-ever check. I wonder if he ever cashed it….

Bar Mitzvah Blast

Simcha Leiner studied nusach with Chazzan Sherwood Goffin a”h, so that he could daven on his bar mitzvah day. People knew he came from a musical family, especially from knowing his uncle Rabbi Berel Leiner (longtime menahel of YBH of Passaic, who sang on JEP recordings in the 1970s). When the people found out that he was going to be the chazzan that day, they all packed into his shul, even without being invited, to hear him daven for the amud. That was the very first time he sang publicly. And we know the end of the story….

Sports Report

Before his bar mitzvah, Nachum Segal and a friend formed a duo during lunch, called “Lechem Mishneh,” and they would do brief sports announcements in the school cafeteria during lunch hour. Even the teachers would come by to hear his reports — an obvious precursor to his longstanding radio career.

Hidden Composer

Eli Gerstner wrote his first song when he was 15. It was just after his grandfather passed away, and he was in a deeply emotional state. A friend had joined him in his room for a jam session and began strumming his guitar, and Eli found himself humming a tune to it. After singing the tune over and over, he realized it was not a tune he had ever heard before. Had he really composed it himself? In disbelief, he approached several people over the next few days, asking them if they had ever heard the tune before. When they said they hadn’t, he realized he had just composed his first tune ever. He said it was the most amazing feeling to realize that he was able to compose original songs.

If I Could See You

In 1970, in a theater in St Paul, Minnesota, Eli Lipsker was conducting a chassidic boys’ choir. One of the niggunim performed that night was the famous niggun of the Alte Rebbe, “Tzamah Lecha Nafshi,” and 11-year-old Avremel Friedman — who would later be known as Avraham Fried — was the soloist. He still remembers the rousing applause he received after that solo, but that wasn’t the highlight of the night. After the concert, a young man approached little Avremel and said that there was an elderly individual who would very much like to meet him. Avremel agreed, and the man returned with the elderly gentleman in a wheelchair. The young man whispered in Avremel’s ear, “He’s blind.” The blind man reached over to grasp Avremel’s hands and said, “Young man, after hearing your beautiful song tonight, I wish I could see your heiliger face.” Until today, Avremel says, that was better than any ovation.

First Reading

When Yossi Toiv (Country Yossi) was around ten years old, Dr. Morris Mandel, a guidance counselor, educator, and author, started a column in the Jewish Press called Youth Speaks Up. He encouraged kids to submit original submissions, so Yossi decided to send in a poem he had written. A few weeks later, Yossi’s principal called him out of class, asking him if he had written for the Jewish Press. Yossi admitted that he did, although he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Then the principal looked at him with pride, and said, “Yossi, keep writing! You have a great future ahead of you!” He then proceeded to walk Yossi from class to class, and had him read his submitted poem. That unforgettable experience made a deep impression on Yossi and encouraged him to keep writing poems, then lyrics, and then songs — which just proves that teachers and rebbis who fill their children with confidence and compliments can change the world….

Singing with the Star

Growing up in Eretz Yisrael until he was 15, Eitan Katz was in a local yeshivah choir, and whenever Avraham Fried would come to town, that choir would always accompany him. He was always super excited when that happened, feeling like the luckiest kid in the world to be singing with the king of Jewish music. At one show, a benefit concert for the Binyamin Regional Council, Avremel, with Eitan’s assistance, introduced what would later become the hit song, “L’Binyamin Amar.” It’s one reason that song always has a special place in Eitan’s heart.

The Song Made It

Baruch Levine first started singing in his school choir at Eitz Chaim in Toronto, and once he began studying keyboard, would perform at school and summer camp. Baruch’s father, Rabbi Michoel Levine (a rebbi in the school) was a chavrusa of Abie Rotenberg, and one day, Abie came to the Levine home to teach Baruch the now-classic “Hamalach.” While they were practicing, Baruch’s mother came into the room, listened a bit, then asked Abie, “Honestly, do you think this song is even going to make it?” Abie, the ever-modest genius, answered, “I’m not sure, but if this song doesn’t make it, I’m going to stop writing music.”

So, aside from having a good laugh looking at these pictures from yesteryear, maybe there’s another takeaway: If you’re good at something, don’t give up — even if you’re just a kid. You never know where that talent will land.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1087)