Posted by Elicia Brown (165.247.13.205) on September 19, 2001 at 12:23:50:
Blessings Amid The Tragedy
In countless ways, the Jewish community joins the nationâs
crusade of compassion.
Elicia Brown - Staff Writer
Another New York minute, another
good deed. Speaking by cell phone
Sunday, an exhausted Rabbi Zahara
Davidowitz-Farkas, a chaplain from
Norwalk, Conn., who counseled
family members and friends at
missing persons centers all week,
found something besides sorrow to
take away from the World Trade
Center attack.
ãI know this has come out of one of the worst experiences weâve ever
seen,ä she said. ãOn the other hand, thereâs the blessing in the midst
of the tragedy. Iâve seen extraordinary goodness, kindness and
compassion in people.ä
From the kosher families at
Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun on
the Upper East Side who volunteered
to open their homes to rescue
workers; to the 30 Queens College
students who assembled 300 peanut
butter and jelly sandwiches on
Thursday; to the Hatzoloh volunteers
who put their lives on the line; to a host of Jewish agencies, including
FEGS and the Jewish Board of Family and Childrenâs Services, which are
opening up support centers around the city this week and sent out
counselors last week, the New York areaâs Jewish community has
joined the nationâs crusade of compassion.
In hundreds, if not thousands, of
small ways the Jewish community
here fought back with goodness last
week, triumphing for brief moments
in the face of evil that cost the lives
of perhaps 5,000 people or more.
Some 200 Hatzoloh volunteers raced
to the scene of devastation on Tuesday, according to David Shipper, a
spokesman for the Orthodox ambulance corps. The organization lost
$400,000 in damaged equipment, and volunteers suffered broken
bones, he said. During the rest of the week, Hatzoloh continued to aid
in rescue work, as well as fill in gaps in city service with its EMS system
spread thin.
ãUnbelievable is not even the word. You sit there and you go, ÎI just
transported one patient, another 7,000 to go,â ä said James Laffner, a
Hatzoloh volunteer and Kehilath Jeshurun member who was on the
scene on Tuesday and Wednesday, and serviced his Upper East Side
neighborhood on Thursday.
ãNone of us have any time to cry,ä he said. ãHopefully at the end, all of
us can get together and cry. Itâs horrific.ä
Rabbi Doniel Kramer, executive director of the New York Board of
Rabbis, said two dozen Jewish chaplains volunteered to counsel
shocked survivors through the organization. Rabbi Kramer himself
visited the trauma center at St. Vincentâs Hospital on Tuesday. Other
rabbis, including those who could not reach the board because of
disrupted phone service, sought opportunities on their own.
Rabbis Rolando Matalon and Marcelo Bronstein of Bânai Jeshurun were
two such examples. On Wednesday, they visited the morgue at
Bellevue Hospital on First Avenue, where they spoke to a crying
therapist and to families combing lists for loved ones. Leaders of a
popular liberal congregation on the Upper West Side, the rabbis also
consoled a pair of chasidic brothers from Borough Park looking for a
third brother. The missing brother was a father of five who commuted
to the World Trade Center for work.
Standing in the cold drizzle last Friday afternoon in front of New York
Universityâs Bronfman Center Hillel collection table, decorated with
yahrzeit candles and bottles of Gatorade, lined by countless plastic
bags of collected goods, Michael Harari, a 26-year-old native of a Tel
Aviv suburb, couldnât quite believe his eyes.
He watched a lady run to her apartment to fetch a bag of new sweat
socks and an older woman write a $100 check for the Red Cross on the
spot. There was the guy who, happening by, decided the Hillel table
needed more striking publicity and designed signs. Even as the NYU
van pulled up, pedestrians were racing after it to give, offering a bag of
bagels before the van made its way to the Jacob Javits Convention
Center in Midtown.
Harari, an NYU graduate student volunteering in Hillelâs emergency
drive, was surprised by the extent of the desire to give. ãI see the
people and they give me motivation,ä he said.
The Hillel table raised some $3,000 and collected two truckloads of
goods in its first two afternoons on Thursday and Friday.
Harari had another thought: ãIn Israel, something big like this would
not happen. Weâre so ready for these events, both mentally and
physically,ä he said.
For Gordon Lindskog, the tragedy meant new quarters far from Lower
Manhattan.
ãIâve been through a couple of wars and Iâve seen some things, but
Iâve never seen anything like this,ä said Lindskog, 80.
Lindskog, along with his wife, Polly, and several other residents of The
Hallmark residence, an assisted-living facility in Battery Park City, has a
new home this week on the Upper West Side. Lindskog, who watched
from his living room as the second plane drove into the South Tower, is
temporarily residing at the Jewish Home and Hospital in Manhattan.
There, Lindskog, who moves about in a wheelchair, receives physical
therapy, and his wife, who is blind, is well attended.
Among other programs of assistance, the Jewish Home dispersed vans
Tuesday to pick up confused individuals on Third Avenue and
Broadway. The staff carted wheelchairs for those unable to walk,
pushing people as much as 20 blocks or more to their homes. In
addition, the food service department prepared provisions for
firefighters, police officers and emergency workers.
ãIf youâre not part of the solution youâre part of the problem,ä said
Shira Dicker, director of marketing and communications for the National
Foundation for Jewish Culture, who the day after the attack, along with
her three children and baby-sitter, organized a sandwich delivery for
rescue workers. ãAlso, itâs emotionally helpful to feel like thereâs
something you can do.ä
Dicker was surprised by the distraught response to the attack by her
17-year-old son, Adam Goldman. Adam, a junior at The Ramaz School,
said: ãMom, itâs like weâre completely trapped.ä
On Wednesday, with her children off from their yeshivas, Dicker
decided to take action. After all, ãeven if the museums and movies
were open, who would be in the mood to go there?ä she asked.
Instead, they drove out to the Costco in Yonkers and ãspent an
obscene amount of money,ä stocking up on items from ãnuclear
war-size containersä to juice boxes to peanut butter, English muffins
and cheddar cheese. Back home in Morningside Heights, the family
assembled sandwiches.
At midnight, Dicker and her oldest son and baby-sitter drove
downtown, where at a triage area on 14th Street, she was told
ãyouâre timing is fantastic!ä
ãThe mother in me just wanted to jump up and hug these people,ä she
said.
Not everyoneâs timing was as perfect. The NYU van, overflowing with
bags of donated goods, wended its way through traffic caused by
President Bushâs visit Friday afternoon, only to reach a packed to
capacity Javits Center. A police officer advised that space might be
available at the Fashion Institute High School.
At the high school, a convoy of trucks from assorted companies,
apparently involved in rescue work, were parked at the curbside. The
word came back: no space there either.
The vanâs driver, Sgt. Richard Morabito of NYU security, was directly
affected by this weekâs events: He was still hoping to find a
brother-in-law. Morabito, apparently unruffled by small inconveniences,
drove onward to the 26th Street Armory, a temporary center for
missing persons.
ãItâs not easy to donate,ä said Harari, the Israeli student.
After yet another try at the 14th Street Salvation Army, the van
returned to NYU. ãIâm sure in the coming weeks the stuff will be useful.
We just have to be a little patient,ä said Jacob Nessing, a member of
the Bronfman Center staff.
Nearby, at the Town and Village Synagogue, the congregation was
pulling together as it faced a personal loss. Steve Jacobson, who
opened the shul every morning for services, never returned from work
Tuesday at the WPIX-Channel 11. He was last heard from when he
spoke to a friend on the phone that morning. At the time, he was on
the 110th floor and said the room was filling up with smoke.
The congregation is ãbuilding a cocoonä around Jacobsonâs wife,
Deborah, said Town and Village Rabbi Laurence Sebert. Members are
shopping with her, bringing her food, picking up her eighth-grader,
Miriam, from school, accompanying her to the dentistâs office to find
identifying dental records.
ãWeâre still hoping against hope,ä said the rabbi on Friday. n