https://www.israelnationalnews.com/news/400366
Rabbi Meyer Fendel zt"l
My friend Barry Jacobson has written movingly about Rabbi Fendel zt"l, whose levayah will be today:
A very great man. Rabbi Fendel ran a top-notch school, as HANC excelled in both Limudei Kodesh and secular studies. The Rebbeim were literally from the gedolei hador and mechabrei sefarim on all shas. The English department produced many students who were accepted into the top universities in America. Superb teachers and lab facilities. The warmth of the school was an extension of the warmth and kindness of the Fendel home, where their Shabbos table was a Gan Eden on this earth. Everybody was welcomed with the happiest smiles, and beautiful melodies were sung till all hours, along with inspiring words of Torah, Hashkafah, analysis of current events and the situation in Israel. Always hosted Yontof mesibos, Chanukah and Purim parties and gatherings for students, friends and the entire community. Each person was special to them and kept in touch for the rest of their lives. No words to describe their true greatness and overflowing Ahavas Yisrael and Ahavas Torah. But every vort one might want to offer at the table was always analyzed for the ethical imperative. What can we learn about being a kinder, more sensitive person from the vort. He eschewed fundamentalist or extremist approaches, and always emphasized Darchei Noam. So many tens of thousands were impacted by his great work including succeeding generations of Jews and mechanchim who continued his approach. He was inspired by the Mussar Movement of Reb Yisrael Salanter, and later by Rav Kook.
In Reb Yisroel Salanter, Rabbi Fendel saw the importance of ethics and character development in many different middos. In Rav Kook Rabbi Fendel saw the importance of every Jew, no matter what his background or lack thereof. He saw how they all came together to rebuild Eretz Yisrael after so many years of Galut and suffering. And each person's effort was appreciated and made such an important contribution to the overwhelming success that Medinat Yisrael has become in so many areas. Economically, scientifically, educationally, militarily, and overall quality of life. He watched and nurtured the little State grow and grow in achievements, one by one, and that gave him much nachas. During the 73 war he and family were on Sabbatical and spent their time visiting and being mechazek injured soldiers. Couldn't do enough for every Jew. His wonderful family continues in his work which he shared with his wonderful wife, Goldie, who was the world leader in Hachnasas Orchim and Simchas Hachaim. May their memories be for a blessing, always.
Those of us who were lucky enough to be classmates of Rabbi Duv Fendel got an extra treat every Shabbos an hour before mincha, when Rabbi Meyer Fendel hosted us around his table for a gemara shiur. Following mincha we would go to a different boy's house for Shalosh Seudos, accompanied by beautiful zemiros and Divrei Torah and then daven maariv together. We always played ball together during vacations and organized our own year-round learning groups at nights, after school. West Hempstead was a beautiful place to grow up thanks to the vision and efforts of the Fendels. Those memories will never be forgotten, and these boys are still close friends 50 years later.
I will add below a longer, more general tribute to the Fendels and memoir of our youth in West Hempstead that Barry wrote some time ago. My education at HANC ended after 6th grade, but the strong connection with the Fendels lasted well beyond that point. Here are two pictures from my scrapbook that include Rabbi Fendel.
The first is from our Second Grade Chumash Presentation, when we formally received our Chumashim. Rabbi Fendel's back is to the camera (circa 1969):
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The second is from our "annual dinner" at Noshtime (circa 1978).
You can find it described at
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I can only second Barry's remarks, and say, that those of us who grew up in the HANC world, and especially in West Hempstead, owe so, so much to the Fendels. The debt is extraordinary and the הכרת הטוב profound, deep and broad beyond measure.
Rabbi and Mrs. Meyer Fendel, Shlita
By Barry Jacobson
I spent the first 12 years of my life in Chicago, and moving to NY at the beginning of 7th grade
was very difficult. This was the year many Bar Mitzvahs were starting, and I was missing those
of my friends in Chicago, and often not invited to the ones in NY, because I really didn’t know
anybody yet. I vaguely remember my interview with Rabbi Fendel, sometime before the school
year began, but he was away during that year on Sabbatical with his family in Eretz Yisrael.
Every so often he would come in for a short visit, and I remember him greeting me warmly and
being genuinely interested in how I was managing. Nevertheless, I remember counting the hours
and minutes until it was time to go home.
It turned out that shortly after the Fendels arrived in Israel, the Yom Kippur war broke out and
Rabbi Fendel was busy full-time visiting and giving chizuk to the soldiers at bases all over Israel.
It was the year that the song Yisroel B’tach Bashem came out, and the famous poster of the
soldier standing on the tank benching lulav was featured on the record. One of the most
incredible pictures, ever, and personified the war. It is amazing that hashgacha pratis had it that
the Fendel family whose love for the soldiers knew no bounds, could be in Israel that year at the
country’s time of greatest need. We heard hundreds of stories of their experiences there after
they returned.
Meeting people was a slow process, and there were a lot of good kids in the class, but it took
time. I had a wonderful rebbe, Rabbi Binyamin Schubert, who taught gemara in the traditional
yeshivishe flavor, which I had not been exposed to previously with such intensity. The English
teachers were very dedicated, and at the time, I did not realize how well-run the school was.
Teachers took their subjects extremely seriously, and had no tolerance for misbehavior or
missing assignments. The preparation was extremely rigorous. It was only years later, when my
kids were in school, that I saw that many yeshivas are not run anywhere near as organized. One
teacher once remarked that in his school, one of the primary goals of the English department is to
get the kids to show up in class.
While I was slowly meeting friends, I was also involved in numerous scientific hobbies that
provided much solitary entertainment and challenge, including studying for an amateur radio
license, building radio equipment, and learning how to develop pictures in a home darkroom.
While in Chicago, I was quite popular, and an all-star shortstop in camp, but starting over from
scratch was not at all easy, especially with noticeable hearing aids. One of the first classmates I
became friendly with was Everett Goldin, because his father was a TV repairman, and we shared
a mutual interest in electronics. There was also another boy in class whose father was in the
telecommunications business, Eric Mark, who also had a shared interest with me in aquarium
fish, and we would spend a lot of time together.
The summer following 8th grade, I was told that Rabbi Fendel had returned, and moreover, had a
boy, Duv, exactly my age, who wanted to meet me. He invited me over to his house, and I was
impressed by his sincerity and gentleness. It was soon to be his Bar Mitzvah, and I was told he
was having some kind of get together in school, rather than at a fancy location. I believe I wore a
polo shirt, thinking it was a casual gathering, but it actually was a formal occasion, where all the
other kids wore suits. Despite this initial mishap, eventually Duv and I became the closest friends
imaginable. I would be at the Fendel house 24/7. We spent much time learning, doing
homework, and talking.
That year, I was told that Rabbi Fendel would be giving a shiur for the boys in our grade every
Shabbos, an hour before mincha. We would all walk together to shul, and then we would have a
rotating shalosh seudos at a different boy’s house each week, followed by our own maariv
minyan. This was an outstanding group of boys, but one would not immediately know the quality
of what we had. If I might name them: Gary Fuchs, Marc Wachspress, David Berlinger, Herbie
Finkel, Joe Feit, Marc Teitelbaum, Duv Fendel, Barry Jacobson, Menachem Gold, Robbie
Bechhofer, Marc Rosenbloom, Danny Kislin (who walked me to my house first day of 7th grade,
when I did not know the way home), Stuie Rosenblum, Aaron Berger (who lived in Uniondale,
but would walk in to WH at every opportunity), David Feinberg. These shalosh seudos were
filled with singing and ruach, and some of the boys had been together in Sdei Chemed in Israel,
where London Pirchei had a summer base, and they learned songs directly from the master Yigal
Calek. There was also a Dvar Torah by one of the boys, and plenty of time for schmoozing and
joking. We all became incredibly close over the years. Robbie Bechhofer who is now a well-
known magid shiur on Talmud Bavli and Yerushalmi, and who has authored a number of books
on difficult halachic topics, has stated many times, that despite all the distinguished yeshivos he
later studied in, it all came from Rabbi Fendel and this incredible chevra. On chol hamoed, we
would make our own 8:00 minyan at shul, and then announce that we would be playing baseball,
soccer, hockey or whatever the game was, and would meet at West Hempstead High School ball
field at 11:00. There were also about 10 boys from the grade below us, and a few from lower
grades who would join. About 25 bicycles would show up at the high school with bats, balls and
mitts, and we would play all afternoon. After a short rest, we would eat supper and show up in
shul for mincha and maariv. Following that, very often, we would make our own simchas yontof
at one of the boy’s houses with singing and Divrei Torah.
In 8th grade, our math teacher was Rabbi Jacob Wehl, who probably gave more mussar during a
single day of math, than most rebbes give all year in shiur. His descriptions of how the world
worked were quite colorful. Much of his wrath was directed at the Theory of Evolution. “If
somebody believes his grandfather was a monkey, it means only one thing—that he himself is a
monkey.” “If I tell you my suit costs 500 dollars, we can argue. But if I tell you it costs 15 billion
dollars, we can no longer have a conversation.” We did learn quite a bit of algebra that year,
though. During tests, he would open his gemara and learn. Rabbi Fendel told me the story of how
he hired Rabbi Wehl. He came in to give a model lesson. During class, he asked a certain
question, and all the hands shot up, except for one. Instead of calling on one of those who knew
the answer, he called on the one kid who didn’t know, and asked what he was having trouble
understanding. Rabbi Fendel said he was a big talmid chacham, and certainly well-qualified.
My rebbe that year was Rabbi Jacob Heisler ZL,,and he would spend much time reading every
Rashi inside with many Tosfos. Somehow, he had an incredible command of dikduk, even in
modern Hebrew. He would frequently daven for the amud, as he was in aveilus that year, I
believe. Once, my close friend and classmate Everett Goldin, from a completely conservative background, said to me that he loved hearing his voice when he davened. It was so sincere and
melodic.
There was also a nice young Lubavitcher teacher, Rabbi Lein, who taught me for a few months
that year.
Slowly I was integrating into the chevra, and by 9th grade, I remember thinking to myself that I
was having such a great time, it was perhaps better for me than in Chicago. While there were
high level yeshivos back there, I surmised that I may have ended up in a school which would not
have introduced me to the tremendous depth and warmth of learning I experienced in HANC,
due to the wonderful and caring staff. That year, my gemara rebbe was Rabbi Wehl, and we
accomplished a lot in Maseches Beitza, but probably more than half the time was on mussar. At
the end of the year there was a big final. After writing pages and pages, it was widely reputed
that Rabbi Wehl never read any of it. He always said a rebbe knows how well kids are learning.
If somebody came in late or not dressed properly, he would tell him, “TAKE THE DAY OFF.
FARKERT, IT’S NOT A PUNISHMENT. YOU CAN RUN AROUND THE HALLS, OR GO
PLAY BASKETBALL. TORAH IS A PRIVILEGE, AND IF SOMEBODY DOESN’T WANT,
NOBODY IS FORCING HIM.”
One day in 9th grade, I went to a school bowling club that met before shiur, but buses returned
about half an hour after shiur began. Rabbi Wehl turned beet-red, and screamed in the loudest
voice you ever heard, “JACOBSON, IS BOWLING MORE IMPORTANT THAN BUILDING
THE BEIS HAMIKDASH? THE GEMARA SAYS WE ARE NOT MEVATEL LEARNING
EVEN TO BUILD THE BEIS HAMIKDASH, BUT FOR BOWLING WE ARE???” Needless to
say, I never went again.
As strict as he was, he never wanted kids to be punished on the report card for their learning. The
biggest trouble makers could get no lower than an 80, and most of the class would get 95. He
would not tolerate any bitul Torah, and any time somebody came to class to make an
announcement he would wave them away, including the attendance monitor. On Tu B'shvat, they
came around with those JNF stickers for donating a tree in Israel. After kicking out the
messenger, as usual, Rabbi Wehl screamed in the loudest voice you ever heard with a beet-red
face, “TU B'SHVAT HAS AS MUCH TO DO WITH PLANTING TREES IN ISRAEL AS I
HAVE TO WALKING ON THE MOON!” Rabbi Fendel once said that without Rabbi Wehl,
there would have been no HANC. He also said that if he had two Rabbi Wehls, there also would
have been no HANC. A good part of Rabbi Fendel’s day was spent in smoothing out difficult
situations caused by one of Rabbi Wehl’s pronouncements, which would often flat out contradict
other faculty members’ views, or official school policy, or upset a student or his parents. Rabbi
Wehl had the type of personality that the minute a kid met him for the first time, he would never
think about making any kind of trouble. It is difficult to define, because some teachers can spend
years in classroom management training, and yet kids will walk all over them. But one look at
Rabbi Wehl, and the kid got the message. He said a number of times that a pareve rebbe is treif.
I remember him telling me, “JACOBSON, DO YOU THINK YOU’RE PATUR FROM
LEARNING? NOBODY IS PATUR FROM LEARNING, NOT WEHL, NOT WAHRMAN,
NOT FENDEL, NOT JACOBSON.”
Overall, Rabbi Wehl, was a tremendous hashpaah on me, and pushed me to learn after high
school for many years, which probably never would have happened without him. I owe much to
him, as do many others. He was one of the most colorful people one would ever meet, and to this
day, HANC boys tell over his maasim or his lines to each other with great simcha.
The following actually happened, years later. I had come home from shul one Friday night, and
my wife had invited a newly married couple, the daughter of Rabbi Shnayer Leiman, with whom
she taught Talmud Torah, and her husband. I never met the fellow in my life, and he was
wearing a black suit and hat like any other chareidi yeshiva bachur. My wife tells me his name is
Fisher, and that he actually went to HANC (after my time). Without saying a word, I screamed at
him in the loudest voice I could manage, “FISHER, DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PATUR FROM
LEARNING?” Without batting an eye, he yells back, “TAKE THE DAY OFF!” I said to myself,
without knowing this fellow from Adam, but if you say to any random person, DO YOU THINK
YOU'RE PATUR FROM LEARNING, and you get the response, TAKE THE DAY OFF, you
can be absolutely sure who his rebbe was.
Even after that year, Rabbi Wehl continued to teach extra gemara to the older grades, and ran a
thrice weekly after-school mishmar program. It originally met in Mitchell Field, and Rabbi Wehl
made every effort to get kids to stay. He would not accept the excuse, that transportation was
difficult, since he noted that if it was chemistry lab, people would have no trouble getting rides.
Eventually it moved to the West Hempstead building, as most of the attendees were from there.
We would get off the bus, and buy a snack, and then learn for an hour. Rabbi Wehl used to say if
he thought kids were munching too much, “There is no mitzvah to eat a whole mishmar.” The
Zivotofsky brothers would go home first to feed their rabbits, and Doni would generally come
back with ice cream. Rabbi Wehl found this quite amusing.
Some of the kids in the younger grades would attend as well. One was Reuven (Richard) Halpern
whom Rabbi Wehl would call Harry Halpern. He was in 5th grade at the time. Another boy, even
younger, Avi Silberberg would attend in 3rd grade. Rabbi Wehl loved these kids. One day we
were doing a Tosfos. Rabbi Wehl asked Avi Silberberg, “Silberberg, do you know where Tosfos
is located on the page?” Avi pointed to it. Rabbi Wehl said, “If you know where to find Tosfos in
a gemara, you know more than 50% of the rabbis on the Island.” (Long Island.) Then Rabbi
Wehl said, “If you know this Tosfos, you know more than 95% of the rabbis on the Island.”
In 9th grade, Duv had become the co-editor in chief of the Jr. High yearbook with Danny Schultz,
and his sister, Raizi, was the editor of the high school yearbook. In those days, there were no
digital prints, and no one hour photo. One Friday, I got a page from the school office that they
heard I could develop pictures, and could I do some rolls by the deadline Monday. I told them I
would need certain chemicals and supplies. Rabbi Fendel took Duv and me to TSS (a department
store), to buy the equipment. I remember telling Rabbi Fendel that when I looked at the little kids
in the early grades, it seemed that they were windup toys who ran around randomly. He replied
that that’s exactly the way he viewed me and my classmates. I had trouble understanding that.
Anyway, we worked many hours that weekend to get it all done. While one is supposed to
expose the negative onto the photographic paper, and then develop in darkness, Duv had no
patience, and insisted that while I developed that picture, he was already going to turn on the enlarger again for the next one. It actually saved time, and I don’t recall a significant degradation
in quality.
One of the most memorable parts of that year was a huge Purim Chagiga Rabbi Fendel made at
his home for our grade and for Raizi’s grade, perhaps the whole high school. The singing and
simcha was unbelievable. Even kids from the most nonreligious backgrounds were totally caught
up in the ruach. I remember Rabbi Pressler sitting next to Rabbi Fendel and having a great time.
A high point of that year was Mr. Disimone’s math class. His eraser throwing and zany one-
liners kept the whole class in stitches. I remember that Charlie Rudansky, now a rabbi in
Mamaroneck, would laugh so hard every day, he would literally turn red and struggle to breathe.
Before tests, Mr. D. would announce, we are having a performance on Monday. Kids would ask,
“Is it pass-fail.” He would say, “Yes, some will pass and some will fail.” Every so often during
the year he would advise, “Fail early, avoid the June rush.” One day, Duv had adopted the Israeli
style of making a plus sign that doesn’t go all the way down, but looks like an inverted T. Mr.
Disimone thought he had drawn a minus sign, and took off points. Duv didn’t want to hurt his
feelings, as he was a devout Catholic, and explain why they draw it that way. So he said it was
like an abbreviation. Mr. Disimone then drew on the board a word with the letter M, and kept
erasing part of the word, and saying it was an abbreviation. Then he erased the parts of the letter
M until it looked like an I. He said, “Some kids will even abbreviate the letters (and expect the
teacher to know what they had written).” Whenever a kid had his head down on a desk, Mr. D. would announce, “Come up for air.” Frequently we heard, “You crumb.” I could not recall any kid not liking his class.
The mere mention of the biology teacher, Mrs. Strumpf, would strike fear into the hearts of
mortals. She was also in complete control of the class, and provided outstanding preparation in
both 7th grade and 9th grade science. She was a stickler for maintaining an orderly notebook, with
certain things needing to be in pen, and others in pencil. A student would rather have root canal
surgery, than show up without his or her homework. But she had complete mastery over the
curriculum, and spent much time in lab exercises and dissections. A very good way to get on her
bad side was to misspell her name as Strumph, instead of Strumpf. She would often include a
question on exams, “Spell your biology teacher’s name.” In many ways, it is true that the
toughest teachers were the most competent.
Another very tough cookie was Mrs. Dinner, the 7th and 9th grade English teacher. She would
dictate at the beginning of the week or month every single reading and written assignment, and
expect kids to enter it into their notebook. Aside from the English, she provided excellent
training in the life skill of organization. Much time was spent in analyzing sentence after
sentence for proper punctuation and grammar from sheets and textbooks, and a number of full-
length classic English works were also read in class where vocabulary and comprehension were
repeatedly emphasized.
Mrs. Aaronson, a 7th grade social studies and 8th grade English teacher would dictate page after
page of notes in outline style, with headings, subheadings, sub subheadings and items numbered
in the classic alternating numeric and alphabetic manner, with main sections in Roman numerals,
then capital letters, then plain numbers, then lowercase letters. This was invaluable in organizing
thoughts for later full-length reports including college assignments. While at the time, we took
all this for granted, and probably hated it, as well, having been exposed to the way other schools
were run over the years, it was amazing the sheer rigor and orderliness of the secular studies
department. We lost nothing by being in a Jewish school, compared to what we could have
accomplished in any other setting.
Mr. Hammer, the 10th grade chemistry teacher was also extremely dedicated, and provided many
of his own handouts to supplement the textbook. His lectures were very stimulating. We also had
very long labs every week or two, and each group actually performed the experiments
themselves, using a very nice array of equipment from a well-stocked storage room, and did not
merely watch as spectators. There were additional demonstrations of certain dangerous
techniques, that only Mr. Hammer would do during regular class hours. When it came time for
the Regents and College Board subject exams, we were superbly prepared.
The 11th grade Physics teacher, Mr. Rosen, was a brilliant lecturer, and a major character. He
found high school physics to be very boring, so he taught practically on a college level, using a
high degree of mathematical rigor, and fully defining all terms and primary units, from which he
derived all else. He would generate individual computerized tests and homeworks, so that each
student had different numbers for the same problem. This would prevent copying. Recall that this
was in the 1970’s before there was such a thing as a personal computer or boxed software. He
must have had access to a mainframe, possibly at his other job in the Elmont school district,
which he programmed himself. He used to say the Yeshiva kids were far superior to his public
school classes. One day one of our classmates solved a very difficult problem by dividing one
equation into the next. Mr. Rosen was very impressed. He said, in Elmont I give my kids a
problem like this, “If x=2, solve for x.”
One day, in the beginning of April, he had a friend along with him sitting in class. We did not
pay attention. We were starting a unit on electricity. He began discussing sticking wires into
lemons and explaining the loss of signal with length, and how this effects the nervous system,
especially for tall people who experience much more significant delay and loss of nerve
impulses. One classmate, Hal Chadow blurted out, “That’s why tall people are uncoordinated in
sports.” Mr. Rosen snapped, “Hal, behave yourself; stop with the jokes.” (Knowing full-well that
this is exactly what he was trying to get somebody to say.) The entire day he derived page after
page of stuff that people were frantically trying to copy, including names of electrical units that
he had modified to sound like similar names of TV characters, rather than the scientists for
which they were named. When kids started to giggle, he would retort, “Come on, pay attention,
what’s going on?” A few times, I told him, this doesn’t sound quite right, based on what I knew
from amateur radio. He would say, “No, you’re getting it mixed up with a different concept
which only applies in another case”, and then went into an excruciating discussion to explain.
At the end of the day, he announced, “April Fools” and left. Some kids asked, what about all the
pages of notes I just wrote. He said, “Rip it out.” Then he told me, “Barry, I am surprised you
didn’t stop me.” Now we knew why his friend was there—to watch the whole show.
Our 10th and 11th grade English teacher was Mrs. Lynch, a true academic, who desperately
wanted to expand kids’ minds, and appreciate many other cultures and ways of thinking. The
material she assigned, and sometimes the records she brought in to play in class, were designed
to give the class an understanding of the vastness of the world, and the many ways of thinking.
This of course, put her at direct loggerheads with Rabbi Wehl, who taught that there was only
one way to think about anything, and all other ways were narishkeit. But each of them
understood the other, perfectly, and they were really on good terms, with quite a bit of respectful
humor being poked at each other. She would say that Rabbi Wehl reminded her of the nuns who
ran her Catholic school from which she seemed to have totally rebelled. If anybody would make
an interesting statement or argument against her more liberal way of thinking, she actually
enjoyed it, and would ask them to defend it, and probe into why they felt that way. She had a
genuine inquisitive mind, and the results she tried to produce, were actually the style of thinking
that universities look for, in flexibility of thought, rather than dogmatic pronouncements. She
could speak 5 or more languages, and taught us the importance of Greek and Latin roots. These
proved very helpful for the SAT, where an unfamiliar word could often be parsed on the basis of
its similarity to other, related words. She was another example of a superbly qualified and
devoted teacher, with a unique style all her own.
I wish to remember Professor Berlinger who was far ahead of his time in teaching computer
science and Fortran programming language to 8th and 9th grade students. He began by bringing in
a set of small plastic parts-drawers each containing an individual instruction written on a small
paper. For example, one could say fetch the number in drawer 8 and put in drawer 3, etc. These
would simulate the way a computer executes a stored program and puts results into different
memory locations. We progressed to studying many of the algorithms studied in a full college-
level course, such as sorting, searching, matrix multiplication, even plotting of equations, which
were done using precisely placed asterisks, using the variable formatting technique. The school
bought a fully equipped keypunch, and students would type out their programs on punch cards,
and give to Prof. Berlinger’s son, David, who was in our class. The next day, Prof. Berlinger
would run on the Nassau Community College mainframe, where he taught, and would give the
printouts back to David to return to the class. The ability to actually write stand-alone programs
was an amazing skill to have, as today, despite many high school kids considering themselves
tech-savvy, they can only run exisiting apps, but haven’t the foggiest idea of how a computer
actually works, or how to design or code an algorithm. I personally owe a great deal to this
superb experience, the skills of which I have used all my life.
One last anecdote, during 11th grade we took drivers ed. Duv was in my driving group. The
teacher turned out to be Jewish, although not recognizable, so naturally Duv took the opportunity
to try to change the topic in the car from driving skills to the importance of Israel. One day, he
asked the teacher if he has any plans to visit in the near future. The teacher said, “Yes, we may
go for our son’s bar mitzvah.” Duv asked, “How old is your son?” The teacher replied, “He’s
one.”
During 10th grade, Duv decided to spend the year at the Shaalvim high school. I sorely missed
him, but we kept in touch via long and frequent letters. When he finally returned around Purim
time, I was so happy I made a shehecheyanu. Rabbi Wehl thought I was nuts.
That year on Purim, Rabbi Wehl invited the entire class to his house for the seudah which was
early, because it fell on Friday. We heard megillah from the baal korei of the Chazon Ish, a most
meticulous, clear and melodious reading. We danced all morning after the seudah, and ended up
blocking traffic in Boro Park, but a number of residents joined us. It was uplifting ruach and
happiness. Rabbi and Rebbetzin Wehl would invite the class a few times a year, for which
Rebbetzin Wehl would prepare delicious home-cooked meals, always ending with pareve ice
cream on top of chocolate cake.
Our main gemara rebbe in 10th and 11th grades was Rabbi Wahrman, a gadol hador who knew
kol hatorah kulah, literally, the entire Talmud and Codes with all classical commentaries. He had
an amazing style of pilpul, in which he wove questions and answers into coherent themes,
thoroughly elucidating difficult topics. During 10th grade, he had decided to go ahead with
printing the first of many volumes of these novellae. He previously had published many articles
in rabbinical journals. Rabbi Wehl went around helping to raise funds to cover printing and
binding, and explaining what an unbelievable privilege it was to have a rebbe who writes
sefarim. He made a big seudah in class when the sefer finally came out. We were so proud to
have such a great rebbe. It should be noted that Rabbi Wahrman’s level and breadth of learning
was itself a miracle. But when combined with the fact, that unlike a major Rosh Yeshiva, who
can learn with high level students all day, Rabbi Wahrman was teaching simple elementary and
high school students all day, followed by public school kids at a Talmud Torah. We never
processed how it was possible, and this made all of us try to set high goals to emulate him. His
class was filled with humor and jokes. If a kid didn’t know a pasuk of chumash, he would ask
who his chumash teacher was. If somebody said a wrong answer, he would remark, “Rabbi
Gottesman is going to fire me on the spot.” Having the opportunity to have an American style
rebbe who could relate to us, was a big part of the attraction of his class. He also would tell us
stories of his early childhood in Leipzig, Germany during the Holocaust years, about which he
and his wife later wrote books. This made history come alive for us, as we saw the Holocaust
through the eyes of a child just about our own age, how he was frightened to walk home from
school, because of bands of Nazi youth thugs who would accost Jewish children. He told us how
he was hit with a rock and permanently scarred on the chin during Kristalnacht. Many of his
students have formed life-long bonds and return to visit and discuss difficult topics with him
whenever possible.
Note that Rabbi Wehl himself would go on to write many sefarim on the most difficult
masechtos of shas. He would call them Ikvei Aharon, and Pesher Davar after his parents. He also
wrote a Haggadah with a long introduction to the halachos of pesach. This was an outgrowth of a
booklet he would put together for us every year before Pesach. Eventually Artscroll translated it
as Haggadah with Answers.
The Hebrew principal who would eventually succeed Rabbi Fendel was Rabbi Gottesman. He
constantly stressed derech eretz and the need to keep the school clean and make a good
impression on all people one would meet. Before every trip, he would ask us to make a Kiddush
Hashem, and not anything which might seem like a Chilul Hashem. His chief love was Medinat
Yisrael. My wife’s cousin, Lisa (Rosenbloom) Stepner, said publicly in her farewell speech, as
she and her husband Mayer and kids prepared to make aliya, that one of the main motivating
factors was Rabbi Gottesman’s habit of walking randomly into any class, and pulling down the big wall-mounted maps of Israel, and lecturing on some topic. She was convinced that she would
make the move at some point. Rabbi Gottesman also loved preparing the school for the Israeli
Day Parade, for which the floats and audio equipment were originally designed by Mr. Harry
Goldin, AH, father of my classmate Everett. But of course, if anybody in Rabbi Wehl’s shiur was
thinking of missing class time for this, he had a rude awakening in store. Somehow everybody
managed.
The overall preparation at HANC was excellent in both Hebrew and English, and I was
privileged to get into every college I applied to, including MIT, Columbia, Princeton and
University of Chicago. The teachers also generously spent much time writing letters of
recommendation, and the English principal Rabbi Schonbrun and the guidance counselor, Mr.
Blatt were very much on top of all the exam and application deadlines, and saw the process
through, all the way from the beginning of high school.
A major force in the smooth running of the school was Mrs. Provda, Rabbi Fendel’s secretary.
She would take all his calls, and also had to put up with a constant stream of students who would
come in for any reason, or just to visit. Rather than be a scary place, the Dean’s office was a nice
friendly place to hang out. Every morning, Mrs. Provda would buy donuts for breakfast, which
she would sell to students after davening. One day, my hearing aid batteries had burned out. I
was in trouble, and didn’t know what to do. I went to the office. Mrs. Provda was familiar, as her
husband, Casper, also wore them. I guess she knew where to get them. The next thing I knew,
Rabbi Wahrman went out to get a package, and came back with the right type. Such was the
chesed that permeated the school. Years later, after her husband passed away, Rabbi Fendel
asked me to visit her whenever I had the chance. I frequently did, as my audiologist’s office was
right near her house, in Floral Park.
At HANC graduations, there would be a choir of younger-grade students led by Mr. Seymour
Silbermintz, the music teacher. He was famous for making many Jewish records, and his choirs
were so professionally trained that these HANC kids sounded exactly as polished as London
Pirchei. I could not believe the quality.
During the year in which Duv was away in 10th grade, Rabbi and Mrs., Fendel invited me many
times to come over to the house on Shabbos, as I used to. At first I was a little uncomfortable,
since for a kid it was like visiting parents of a friend without the friend present. But over ensuing
years, there would be many years post-high school in which Duv would be away in Israel
learning, while other members of the family were in the USA. In addition, I later met Hillel, who
was a number of years older, and had been away, himself, for much of our high school years. He
became the Bar Mitzvah teacher of my youngest brother, Danny, and did an amazing job with
him. As time went on, I became quite close with Hillel and other members of the family. I would
eventually be chavrusas with Hillel at YU in the early 1980’s, and on Shabbos would often learn
with Rabbi Fendel. The Fendel Shabbos table was simply amazing, and full of ruach, warmth,
singing and discussion of important topics. There would be huge numbers of guests of all kinds;
one never knew who one might meet. Each of the kids had friends, and there was also a
wonderful boy, Yitzhak Peykar, who escaped from Iran and was practically taken in by the
Fendel family for a long period of time. While he came to the USA not knowing a word of
Hebrew or English, by the time he graduated, I believe, he was valedictorian or salutatorian in both. Eventually his parents and other members of his family were able to leave Iran and reunite.
Yitzchak was so grateful that he would wash the dishes every Saturday night.
On Shabbos, the sweet niggunim would fill the house. Often Tinatzel Nafshi was sung for Shir
Hamaalos. Rabbi Fendel had a host of older songs that he learned from his father, and many of
which probably came from Europe. Some were in Yiddish, which he lovingly taught us. Among
the most beautiful was the Sukeleh Song, which we would sing from the Yavneh Shiron, the big
bencher from Duv’s Bar Mitzvah. Sukkos at the Fendel’s requires a book of its own, it was such
a lofty and happy experience, with nonstop singing and learning in the sukkah. Duv had planted
Aravos trees on the side of the house, which he maintained with great care. One year, he decided
to sell Arbah Minim, and we all trooped down to Reb Dovid Feinstein to ask shaylas on
particular types of spots. It should be noted that Duv also planted privet hedges in the backyard
which he claimed would immeasurably enhance the value of the house, making it easier to sell
should they desire to make Aliyah. I don’t think those grew very well at all. One time on Sukkos,
Duv was asked to mop the kitchen floor. He spent his time mopping one square tile. He
remarked that some people will try to mop the whole world, but he would rather concentrate on
mopping just one little tile.
Rabbi Fendel also taught us the Dudeleh from Reb Levi Yitzchak Berditchev, and other classics
like Zol Shoyn Zayn di Geulah. One song, Azamin LeSeudasa, he had learned from his father,
and sounded to him more like a chant, than a song. He remarked that when he was a child, he
would be embarrassed when his father sang it, because he thought it had no melody. But he
taught it to me, and I loved it. When I got married, during a weekday sheva brachos at Aaron
Berger’s apartment, I asked Rabbi Fendel to please sing it. Mrs. Fendel walked into the room at
one point, and wondered why he was singing a Shabbos song. She thought he had lost his mind,
chas vshalom.
Rabbi Fendel would always talk about Rav Kook, and when he wasn’t talking about Rav Kook,
he would talk about Rav Kook. This was in school, on Shabbos, whenever. While he had
originally been educated in the traditional yeshivos, and was a student of Rav Scheinberg, and
chavrusa of Rav Altusky, and grew up in the mussar school of thought, he later became
enamored of Rav Kook’s philosophy of seeing the good and holiness in everything. While others
were suspicious of the intentions of the Zionists, due to their many secular adherents, Rav Kook
saw this as a stage towards the redemption. I remember Rabbi Fendel teaching us the following,
which are among the most beautiful words ever written in the Hebrew language: Tzaddikim
Hatehorim, einam kovlim al harisha, ella mosifin tzedek. Tzaddikim hatehorim einam kovlin al
habaarus ella mosifin chochma. (And one other similar line.)
When I was younger, I always thought that Rabbi Fendel’s hashkafa was somehow not totally
authentic, since it was quite different than the traditional yeshivish way of thinking. But as I got
older, I realized that his was the pure truth. Kindness to all and appreciation of all the good
people of all different types do is quintessential Yiddishkeit. I remember his reading an essay on
the reasons for the Holocaust by a big Rosh Yeshiva, and his family desperately trying to pull it
away from him, as he was getting too worked up to be able to eat or speak. He couldn’t tolerate
any condemnation of these pure Jews. Rabbi Wahrman once expressed a similar sentiment in his
book, Lest We Forget, in which he was present as one Rabbi lectured that the reason for the Holocaust was because people talked in shul. He could not believe the hurt reaction among the
many survivors in the audience that this had caused. Rather, we don’t understand the reason,
period, and nobody has a right to impugn any segment of the Jewish people.
The hachnasas orchim was legendary, and everybody was made to feel welcome and happy. I
myself met my wife at the Fendel Shabbos table, as she was a cousin of our classmate Marc
Rosenbloom, and all of our chevra and many others would congregate at the Fendels after the
meal. We were truly fortunate to have such a wonderful set of influences and role models right in
the neighborhood.
Both while the Fendels lived in West Hempstead, and after they made aliya, when they would
return on visits, Rabbi Fendel would occasionally speak in shul on the situation in Israel. He
would say that the ones who gave him the most trouble for his right-wing views were his
cousins, the Dershowitzes, Kaufmans and Levines. They would continually heckle with
questions. Rabbi Fendel would always handle with good humor.
One incident stands out in my mind. During the summer of 9th grade, my parents wanted me to
go to camp, although I was not a camper. Because I did not know anybody going to the NY
camps that I was close with, I decided to go back to a Chicago area camp, in Wild Rose
Wisconsin, with some of my old classmates. But I did not really enjoy it, and was counting the
days to go home. My parents had told me that there would be a camp doctor whom they knew
coming for the second half. One Friday night, I was learning the leining for the next day, when a
counselor told me I had visitors. I figured it must be this doctor’s family. When I turned around,
I saw Duv, now my closest friend, standing there. I jumped in the air for joy. Could not believe
it. Then I saw the rest of the Fendel family there, as well. They had been traveling cross-country
in a camper to visit relatives in California, and decided to plan to spend Shabbos in my camp.
They arranged with my mother to keep it a secret. It was the highlight of the entire session.
During the duration of high school, our class and other classes in West Hempstead would attend
a youth minyan at which we would take turns leining and leading the davening. It originally
started with Hillel Lichtenstein and Debby Haimson, followed by Rabbi Shmuel Goldin. Then
Rabbi Yossie Weiser was hired as the first official youth director, and he was a dynamo. His
ruach and fascinating stories of the Holocaust, Jewish history, gedolim and other events that
happened to him in yeshiva kept the crowd transfixed. We gained much from him during the 3
years he was there. He eventually moved back to Brooklyn, as that was where his and his wife’s
roots were, and became a rebbe in Ramaz where he continued to do amazing work. He was
eventually followed by Rabbi Mel David, who was himself a beautiful baal menagen and baal
tefilah, in addition to a fabulous speaker and story teller. He was also the physics teacher at West
Hempstead High School and eventually at HANC, succeeding Mr. Rosen who was not well.
During 10th and 11th grades, we organized a night seder at the Young Israel, following the 8:00
maariv minyan. A number of us, including boys from Chofetz Chaim, would learn nightly for 2
hours. At the end of the year we would hold an annual dinner at Noshtime, the local pizza place,
in honor of this learning organization which had a very long name (half a page), known only to
Robbie Bechhofer. We would put out a journal, and invite dignitaries like Rabbi Fendel and
Rabbi Gold to speak, which they graciously accepted.
Noshtime was started by a wonderful family, Adele and Irving Levine ZL, and Adele would also
work at the HANC lunchroom. They had two kids, Sara and Mark, and Sara was a HANC
graduate. Recently, in June 2013, they made an unveiling for Adele, and held a seudah in their
parents honor at Noshtime, (now Hunkis), for old times sake, to which I was invited. It was very
nice keeping in touch with them after so many years.
In the summer of 1980, Duv and four other members of our chevra, Aaron, Menachem, Robbie
and myself participated in a Boston summer kollel program sponsored by YU. We were
privileged to hear shiurim from Rabbi Soloveitchik on Hilchos Taanis. Duv had been in YU for
part of that year, and had found out about this opportunity. A big askan in Boston was Erwin
Katz along with his wife, who was a cousin of Ronnie Wachtel. Ronnie graciously arranged for
us to stay at their spacious home, and we ate meals at the Young Israel of Brookline, catered by
Reverend Myer Loketch and his team. It was a memorable summer for all of us, and there was
time to do some touring of the numerous historic and cultural sites. At nights, we would learn
with members of the community.
After the Fendels made aliyah in the 1980’s it was a major void in the community. I always
made an effort to see them every time they came in for a simcha. Rabbi Zechariah Fendel was a
sweet, kind, warm person whose family were huge baalei midos and totally involved in learning
Torah. Very often there would be a family simcha, and I was frequently invited, even on Reb
Zechariah’s side. While the hashkafaos of each branch were different, there was complete love
and respect among them.
Later on, Duv founded the Hesder Yeshiva in Sderot, and it grew to be an enourous success in
terms of learning, and its influence on the beleaguered town. We could always count on seeing
the Fendel family at the annual dinners, which were always a pleasant reunion for so many of our
old chevra.
Over the years, I had opportunities to visit them in Israel, as well, and they continued to do their
innumerable acts of chesed, inviting me for Shabbos in their home and camp and even Duv’s
army base, and once providing a box of shemura matza when we stayed at my mother for
Pesach. They arranged their schedule to be in the states for my wedding, since they knew it
meant so much to me. Rabbi Fendel spoke under the chupah, and received the final bracha.
As youngsters, we would also spend much time at Rabbi Gold’s, and I was a chavrusa of
Menachem at Yeshivas Chofetz Chaim, and we would often learn together on Shabbos.
Menachem helped me very much get acclimated to the Yeshiva, having been there himself since
high school.
Rabbi Kelemer moved to West Hempstead in 1983, and after the Fendels left, would graciously
host us in his house on Friday nights, as well.
We were truly fortunate to have the wonderful opportunities we did in a most unlikely place--a
small town that had so many wonderful people, and which was founded in large part by the
Fendel family. May they enjoy many more years of good health and bracha vhatzlacha.
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