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Rav Chaim Soloveitchik’s dedication to the people of his city was expressed poignantly the day a great fire swept through Brisk in 1895. As was the norm in those days, most buildings in the city were made of wood, and when a fire began in one house, the flames spread quickly to the rest. There was little hope to put out the flames, and the main concern was to make sure no one remained trapped in the houses. R. Chaim ran from house to house frantically searching for anyone still inside. He found many little children, and, charging through the smoke and flames, he led them to safety. He made many trips in and out of the danger zone, carrying infants in his arms, and did not stop until he was sure all were accounted for. When the fire finally came under control it was discovered that half the homes in the city had been destroyed, and many families were left without a roof over their heads. Those whose homes had been destroyed moved into the shuls and other public buildings, and a committee was established to build new houses for the many homeless.“ In the meantime, while the construction of new homes was still going On, R. Chaim refused to sleep in a bed, but rather slept on a hard wooden bench. He said he was unable to sleep on a bed while others in the city had no homes. After a while, when he sensed that the people in the city who did have homes were becoming lax in their efforts to rebuild the city, he went to sleep in a small room under the stairwell in the Great Synagogue.“ All the pleading of his congregants that this was beneath his dignity and that he should return home was unsuccessful. Ultimately his action had the desired effect: and the page of rebuilding quickened, and the houses were eventually rebuilt. The Brisker Rav, By R’ Shimon Yosef Meller, Published By Feldheim page 67 (hatzala)
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How deeply Rav Arye Levine cared for those condemned to death by the British (not because he agreed with their policy of violence, which he did not, but Simply because acting by their rights in a noble cause, they found themselves ruthlessly and stupidly persecuted), how far he was ready to go in his efforts to save them, is shown by this story (told by Reb Aryeh to Yitzhak Agassi of Israel’s Ministry of the Interior): One of the underground fighters, a young man of Jerusalem, was caught by the British and sentenced to death, Time was short, and as he generally did in such cases, Reb Aryeh made his way to the official quarters of the British high commissioner, the supreme officer in the holy land, to plead with him to spare the boy‘s life. The sentries at the gate, however, would not let the gentle rabbi in, After all, he had no official appointment. What to do? Reb Aryeh thought, and reached a decision. He went a good distance down the road and waited. How long he waited no one knows, but at last his patience was rewarded. He saw the high commissioner come out of his residence and get into his limousine, to be driven off by his chauffeur, with an escort of attendants. Instantly Reb Aryeh went into the middle of the road, and in plain view of the chauffeur he stretched out lull length in the limousine’s path. The chauffeur’s reflexes were good, and as he applied his brakes instantly, the large car screeched to a halt barely in time. In great excitement, the high commissioner and his entourage came out of their vehicle. “What happened?” they asked. “Is anything the matter with you, rabbi? Were you hint? Are you unwell?” Recovering his aplomb, he told the high commissioner (with the aid of a translator) of his cold reception by the sentries and his desperate need to See the high commissioner and plead for the young man who was to lose his life so soon. That very day the high commissioner issued an order sparing the boy’s life. (lo samod) (A Tzadik in Our Times)
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Rav Aharon Kotler arrived in new York in Nisan 5701/1941. At an impromptu press conference, he said (as reported in the Yiddish daily Morgen Journal) For myself I would not have come… I came in order to try—with your help, Yidden of America -— to rescue the long-established Torah centers that have existed for hundreds of years for Torah has at future in America.” Rav Aharon then mentioned the obligation to do everything possible to save the Jews of Europe, declaring, “I hope that you will neither rest nor remain silent even momentarily until they have all been saved Today, America is the last and only resort for from the valley of tears. All other doors are closed. See to it that path to America, the only escape route, is widened —~ that should admit the largest possible number of Jews.” It’s worthwhile pausing to reflect on the implications of his words. ‘Rav Aharon had just alighted from a train after a long and wearying journey. The trauma of events in Europe, coupled with the dangers that he himself had faced, must have been uppermost on his mind. In addition, he had no home of his own to go to. Yet he was not concerned with himself but with rescuing the Jews of Europe and with establishing authentic Torah centers in America. He succeeded in both objectives. He breathed new life into Va’ad Hatzalah, as the organizations chairman, Rav Eliezer Silver, attested. “From the moment Rav Aharon arrived in America,” Rav Silver said, “Va’ad Hatzalah came to life and worked on a completely different plane than it had previously.” At his meeting with Mr. Henry Morgenthau, the Jewish Secretary of the American Treasury, Rav Aharon told his companion Irving Bunim, who was acting as the translator, “Tell him in the possible terms that all his work as Secretary of the Treasury not worth as much as rescuing a single Jew.” Mr. Bunim was apprehensive about transmitting this sharp message in its exact wording, lest it rouse the Secretary’s ire, but he nevertheless fulfilled Rav Aharon’s wishes. The message actually made a very deep impression on the Secretary, who from that point on became an enthusiastic supporter of all rescue activities. (dam reacha) (In Their Shadow Volume 2)
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At the end of World War I, Rav Baruch Ber traveled by train with his family from Kremenchug to Poland. Travel was very difficult, since the roads were full of troops returning home. The trains were overflowing with soldiers, too. Along the way, the train stopped in the middle of vast, open wasteland under Russian control. While more soldiers boarded the train a few passengers got olf just to get a breath of air. Rabbeinu noticed that a young Jewish girl had done so, too. When the train was about to resume its journey, however, soldiers who had just boarded would not let the Jewish girl reboard, claiming that there was no room for her. When Rabbeinu saw this, he said to his family, “I refuse to travel any further. We cannot leave a young Jewish woman alone in a place like this!” Immediately, he and his family got off the train to stay with her. The train pulled away. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a military truck appeared, halting abruptly in front of them. When the driver heard where they needed to go, he told them that he was on his way there! The first miracle was that a car passed through that deserted area just then. It was an even greater miracle that the driver was headed to the same place they were, for their destination was an enormous distance away. (Rabbeinu’s sons-in-law, R. Reuven and R. Moshe, always would say that the driver was Eliyahu HaNavi.) (lo samod) (Reb Baruch Ber by Rabbi Chaim Shlomo Rosenthal)
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Rav Meshulam Dovid Soleveitchik told over the following story about when the Brisker rav escaped from Vilna to go to Eretz Israel: Since we had a lot of luggage, our friend R. Moshe Prager, who had been a shochet in Brisk, offered to take our bags to the train station for us, and we were happy to accept his offer. He left before us so that he would have enough time to load them onto the train. On our way to the train station we were informed by some friends that R. Moshe had been arrested by an N.K.V.D. agent, who had seen the heavily loaded wagon and had become suspicious. He accused him of being a “Schmulker” (black marketeer), and nothing R. Moshe said would convince him otherwise; R. Moshe was therefore duly hauled into the nearby police station. On his way, he was, fortunately, able to send word to the Brisker Rav, informing him of what had happened, and asking him to come personally to the station to verify his story so that he could be released. ‘ Only half an hour remained before our train was to leave Vilna for Moscow. If we were to miss the train, all our efforts including the significant traveling expenses, which had been prepaid — would go to waste. We would have to repeat the whole exhausting process involved in preparing for the trip. We were also afraid that our father would not be able to get out of the police station so easily. Getting in was, of course, no problem, but getting out was a different story… On the other hand, a Jew who had done us a favor was in serious trouble, and he might have to pay a heavy price on our account, God forbid. V This was the point that decided it in the end, and The Brisker Rav ruled that it was prohibited to leave a Jew in such circumstances, especially when his trouble was due to a favor he had done for them. Therefore, he, The Brisker Rav, would go to the police station, while the rest of the family would leave for the train station, and he would follow immediately after he would finish testifying in favor of R. Moshe. There was a large crowd waiting at the train station to bid the Brisker Rav farewell, among them the rabbanim of Vilna, including R. Chanoch Henich Eigish, the author of the Marcheshes, who was later murdered by the Nazis. The family waited anxiously, watching the clock as the minutes went by with no sign of their father. The tension was immense… only ten minutes left, now five… The train was about to leave. At the moment the train was about to move, The Brisker Rav appeared, carrying their many bags under his arms, running quickly — something that he normally would not have had the strength to do. He came through the short tunnel in the station, and, as-soon as he had set foot on the train, it began to move. The Brisker Rav said then that it was evident from this incident that when one does his duty, no loss comes of it. He had been obligated to save R. Moshe, and in the end, they did not even lose their luggage. Among the passengers on that train were the rosh yeshivah of Mir, R. Eliezer Yehudah Finkel, zt”l, and his family, and other bnei Torah. Their route was Vi1na—Moscow—Odessa. From there, they would travel by boat to Istanbul, the capital of Turkey and continue on to the port of Beirut, just north of the Holy Land. The Brisker Rav, By R’ Shimon Yosef Meller, Published By Feldheim page 489 (lo samod)
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During World War I many Jews were uprooted from their homes’, whole families were forced to move into single rooms in others homes or into public buildings. The conditions were extremely hard. Organizations were created to deal with the hardships and alleviate the suffering of the many distressed, often penniless refugees. At that time,” the rabbanim and community leaders held 3 meeting which R. Chaim also attended. The topic of discussion was how to better help the refugees who had poured into eve ~ neighborhood in the city. They were suffering greatly from lack of supplies, some even going for days without proper food. j One of the rabbanim took the floor and asked, “Why are only talking about the physical needs of these people? What about the fact that many may be without talleisim and tefillin. Those present nodded their heads, wondering why they had n thought of this. However, R. Chaim dismissed these questions pointing out that while all the refugees could fulfill their obligations sharing one pair of teflllin, they certainly could not all satisfy their hunger with one loaf of bread.“ The Brisker Rav, By R’ Shimon Yosef Meller, Published By Feldheim page 70 (lo samod)
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Sometimes listeners were quickly swayed to R. Chaim’s opinion, but often it was not so easy to convince others of their obligations. He had to use all his influence and cunning to motivate those with the power to help. For example, take the following story: It was during Aseres Yemei Teshuvah in 1905. There lived in Brisk a young man who was far from Torah observance. He had joined the Bund and severed all ties with Yiddishkeit; he was in all respects an apikorus. He was not satisfied simply to desert his religion completely, but went so far as to become well-known as a mumar lehachis — someone who goes out of his way to go against the Torah in an offensive, public way. He seemed to enjoy giving pain to the frum people of the city who could only hang their heads in shame when they saw his disgraceful behavior. Nor was R. Chaim, the mv of the city, spared from his obnoxious behavior. He would purposely wait outside R. Chaim’s home on Shabbos morning, and just as R. Chaim was leaving for shul, he would light a cigarette. This young man was drafted into the Russian army. One day, on a whim, he took out his gun and fired a shot in the direction of a picture of the Czar Nikolai. This was considered a very serious offense, and indeed when one of his comrades informed against him, he was sentenced to death in Brisk by firing squad. A ]ew from Brisk who was close to the mayor of the city learned that the mayor was willing to arrange a pardon for the young man on condition that he would leave town and never return. In the traditional Russian style, this pardon would be reciprocated with a “donation” of five thousand rubles to the Russian official. The ]ew revealed this information to R. Chaim. R. Chaim brought the community leaders together in his house and announced that the five thousand rubles must be drawn immediately from the community fund, and any deficit be filled from their own pockets! The men, all wealthy and frum community leaders — Zionist and non-Zionist — objected unanimously: this fellow had been a major force in the modernists’ efforts to uproot Torah in Brisk. It was perfectly fitting that he be put before a firing squad; they would thereby fulfill the Torah’s command, ”And you shall annihilate the evil from your midst. But, R. Chaim held his ground, stating that this verse applies only when there is a Sanhedrin — which is given the power to carry out a death penalty — not with the sinners of our day. One of those present, himself a talmid chacham, quoted the Rambam: “With all due respect, what the rav is saying goes directly against what it says in Hilchos Eidus (11:10): ‘It is prohibited to protect the life of a mumar lehachis.’ And everyone who lives in Brisk knows that this soldier is in the category of a mumar lehnchis; Therefore, it is hard to understand why the rav wants to save Chaim answered this claim, quoting the Shitah Mekubetzes at the end of Bava: Kama, that the principle of ”moridin velo ma’alin” applies only when the gedolei hador have come together and decided that there is a clear need to allow the mumar to be killed, i.e. if this will prevent a mass loss of emunah (faith). The Rambam himself writes this in his commentary to the Mishnah in Chullin. However, he said, in our case, to our great sadness, we have no lack of Bundists and communists besides this fool who has been given the death penalty. “One more Bundist won’t make much of a difference” and so not all conditions of the law of ” moridin velo ma’alin ” are fulfilled in this case. In spite of his decision, the men refused to raise the money. R. Chaim would not give up, however, in his effort to change their minds. On erev Yom Kippur, at the conclusion of the Mincha service, R. Chaim hushed the crowd that was filling the Great Synagogue to overflowing. He proclaimed that the leaders of the congregation would not be allowed to go home to eat the seudah hamafsekes (the meal before the fast) while a Jew sits in jail awaiting the death penalty. The money must be withdrawn immediately from the public till and brought to the authorities. “If this is not done,” continued R. Chaim, ”I will cancel Kol Nidrei! l will lock the shul, and everyone can pray at home tonight.” These words caused a commotion in the shul; in the end, the men responsible agreed to follow the Rav’s decision. They went to the community offices, took out five thousand rubles, and, together with R. Chaim, headed to the mayor’s office. Upon the delivery of the money, the young man was set free. In the meantime, the day had grown quite late, and there was no time to get home before nightfall. And so, the leaders of the city and R. Chaim missed the seudah hamafsekes and went straight from the city hall back to the shul for Kol Nidrei. The Brisker Rav, By R’ Shimon Yosef Meller, Published By Feldheim page 71 (lo samod)
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It was during the war of Independence. The city of Jerusalem was under siege, and all its residents terror-stricken as the Jordanian legion bombarded the city mercilessly, causing many casualties and damage. One day during this traumatic period, those around The Brisker Rav witnessed behavior that seemed to defy logic: When the shelling was somewhat far away, ‘The Brisker Rav paced around the house restlessly like a caged lion. But, strangely enough, when the shelling came closer, just outside his own home, his face changed. Suddenly, he became relaxed and the tension melted away from his countenance, as if he were not threatened by the barrage. Everyone wondered about this: What was the logic behind his behavior? When the danger was far away, he exhibited anxiety, yet when it was nearer, he became calm! Later, The Brisker Rav explained: As long as the danger was distant, he was concerned that he was transgressing the prohibition of ”Do not stand by regarding your brother’s blood and his conscience was bothering him, as he thought he might not be fulfilling his obligation. Perhaps he should go out and help his fellow ]ews in distress? But when the shelling had come closer, he was required by halachuh to remain indoors because of the danger. Knowing he was no longer at risk of transgressing the prohibition, he relaxed! R. Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, who related this story, pointed out how clearly The Brisker Rav’s genuine yira evidences itself in this incident: The Brisker Rav’s tension and agitation were due only to his pure yiras cheit and constant concern for keeping every last detail of a mitzvah. This did not arise out of a natural tendency towards being particular; rather it was due to the anxiety that tzaddikim feel when they question whether they may have been lax in their service of Hashem. The Brisker Rav Volume Two, By R’ Shimon Yosef Meller, Published by Feldheim, page 551 (no samod)
