A Bochur in Ponevezh

Quite early in my yeshivah career, I dreamed of eventually getting to Ponevezh. The Ponevezher Rav was related to us somehow, and more important, he was a talmid of my great grandfather, Reb Leizer Gordon ztz”l. The saintly Mashgiach, Reb Chatzkel Levenstein, was my sandek in Shanghai. Often my parents would repeat to me his brachah when he spoke at my bris — that I should emulate my namesake, the illustrious Reb Yosef Leib Bloch of Telz. The reputations of the great Ponevezher roshei yeshivah — Reb Leizer Shach and Reb Shmuel Rozovsky — managed to even reach my hometown of Cleveland. When my sister entered shidduchim, she was looking for the the crème de la crème of the yeshivah world. Most of the names mentioned were the top Ponevezher bochurim, spoken of in awe as “the next gadol hador.” This grandeur captured my imagination and cemented my determination to go learn in Ponevezh as soon as I was old enough.

When I was 17, I finally made my trip to Eretz Yisrael.

My first stop was my grandfather, Reb Zalman Sorotzkin, who knew I was coming to learn in Eretz Yisrael, but not that I had chosen my yeshivah. He assumed it was up to him to choose the appropriate yeshivah for me — and informed me of his choice. I was crestfallen and told him of my “Ponevezh dream.” He responded that the small yeshivah he had chosen was more fitting for my age.

And besides being my zeidy, he was the head of the Moetzes Gedolei HaTorah, so I was in no position to argue.