Reuven Stagler had a different vision for Alameda Gardens and its shul
None of these calls were easy, but some were impossible.
Rabbi Klarberg was polite, even warm, but completely disinterested. “Look, Mr. Stagler, forgive me for being blunt, but you seem sincere about helping your kehillah. The sort of rav you’re looking for — the perfect pedigree, the perfect experience, and the perfect age — doesn’t exist. The ones who already lead a kehillah aren’t usually looking for that sort of workload and achrayus, they’re a bit tired. At least I am,” he said and laughed easily, which made Reuven more determined to convince this man to give them a try.
But Rabbi Klarberg wasn’t budging. “You need someone fresh and young, someone who will throw themselves into the task with excitement. Sounds like there’s work to be done. Go for someone young.”
Reuven shook his head in frustration. They had tried it. For a month, they’d had a succession of eager young talmidei chachamim walking in for Shabbos davening from one neighborhood or another. Reuven could see these candidates’ faces as they took in the scene — the large, spacious shul and big crowd — the way they reassured themselves that the walk hadn’t really been that long, that this was a serious, mature tzibbur who would be interested in hearing what they could offer, and that it would be short-term, one job leads to another after all, and then they could get a job that really interested them.
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