“I’ve noticed that my Jewish neighbors, especially those who look like you, all have access to some secret high-tech security device”
IT was a Sunday in December.
I’m not a Manhattan person, and it takes a lot to get me to travel to “the City.” And no, it wasn’t to fundraise. To be specific, it was to ensure a get was given. (Or so I thought.)
For years I worked with Beryl and Brocha to restore harmony to the battleground they called home. Finally, however, I convinced Beryl that it was time to dissolve the dysfunctional union and give Brocha a get.
Beryl insisted that his brother, a high-powered, big-time lawyer, be present at the giving of the get. This brother informed us that he was only available for this pro-bono chesed at his office on West 50th off Eighth Avenue on a Sunday.
As I passed New World Stages at 340 West 50th, a man in his twenties approached and asked, “Are you the Rabbi?”
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