And Then, Suddenly…

Sudden Tragedy, & The Loss of Liel Namdar, z”l

       December, 2021

In some respects, a rav and our holy Hatzalah members are a like a fireman. They can be involved in another matter -even an important one -and yet must always be at the ready to drop whatever they may have been doing and go into emergency mode. They will then stop everything to aid it whatever sudden issue arose, l’pitom. With just one phone call, they must be ready to go into overdrive and do all in their power to help in the new urgency.

       Sudden events -the ‘unexcepted’ tragedy –  are from the most painful incidents of our galus exitance; events of which the reader should always be protected from and never bear witness.

    Sadly, I have experienced these in both my personal and professional life. My wife’s younger brother, Nesanel, when home from yeshiva, erev pesach, was killed by a man driving erratically, escaping police arrest in Toronto. Professionally, in 2009, Continental flight 3407 from Newark to Buffalo unexpectedly descended and crashed into a home in Buffalo, killing everyone -and some yidden –on board. As a rabbi in town, I was tasked with going to the site, and then being shuttled to the grieving center setup for their families. Because my hope is that no reader ever experiences such events themselves, allow me to share what will likely come as no surprise: the numbness seen in such instances is not just impossible to describe but unbearable to witness. Just because someone is a ‘man-of-the-cloth’, or has PhD, does not mean that they know the perfect words to say. Of course, there are no perfect words to say in such instances. Indeed, shev v’al taaseh adif, to sit and listen and be quiet, is perhaps one’s only option.

     I once read story about the great Mir Yeshiva rosh yeshiva, Rav Chaim Shmulevitz (‘Rav Chaim Shmulevitz’, CIS). People would come from far-and-wide to gain access to this gadol. While many would come to him for assistance in a shiur they were preparing -as his knowledge of lomdus and iyun were second to none -many others came for advice on serious prblems. His students noticed that often Rav Chaim would begin to sob as visitors would describe the pain they were going through. When they finished speaking, and the rosh yeshiva crying, he would get up and embrace them. They would then see the vistor leave with what appeared to be new-found vitality.

     “Rosh yeshiva, why do so many of these suffering people even bother to travel all the way to see you? The rosh yeshiva does not typically offer any specific advice; indeed the rosh yeshiva barely speaks at all!”

     Rav Chaim explained that people in dire straits are not always looking for specific solutions -as often there aren’t any -rather they are looking to unburden themselves. They want to know that they are not alone in their pain; they want to be assured that there exists others who feel for them. Even by simply crying along with someone one can thereby take a little bit of their agony away. This alone is a great help, and one for which it is worth travelling.

    Year ago, my sister Naomi was on a bus leaving Camp Sternberg for a trip.  Something happened beyond anyone’s control, and an accident ensued. Yehudit (Judy) Shwekey, her friend that summer, and a pure neshama, was niftara. My sister always spoke about how the camp’s rav, Rabbi Grossman z’l, dealt with that sudden event. “I can’t recall everything he said, but I do remember his love, concern and sensitivity”, she recently shared.

    This past motzai Shabbos Camp Sternberg, the Five Towns and the Jewish world was struck with another horrible and sudden tragedy. On the way home from their camp Shabbos reunion, a mother (Miriam Meltser) and her camper daughter along with three camper friends were stuck by a truck being driven by an intoxicated driver.

        Miriam needs and should have a refuah shleima soon. Sadly, one of the campers was niftara.

    Her name was Liel Namdar.

      I did not have the zechus of being her rav, but I did know her, although just a little. She went to elementary Bnos Malka Elementary School in Queens and was a classmate and friend of one of my daughters.

    When I finished my shiur Sunday morning and didn’t hear from my wife and kids, I knew something was up; as we always speak at that time. Hearing the news, I rushed home, but found my mouth empty of words to say. Liel was the type of girl about which no one had a bad word to say. Frum and tznius, kind and generous, she was someone to look-up toward.

     Later that evening, I looked at my daughter’s yearbook. There was the page with Liel, with her life ahead of her. I recall well how each girl had to come up with their own chazal with which to describe themselves or their outlook.

   I shuddered when I saw what Liel wrote.

      Paraphrasing from the midrash, she wrote under her picture, “yesh zakein, v’ein lo yomim; yesh yomim, v’ein lo zakein (Yalkut Shomoni, Bereishis 24). This means, there are those who aged but who didn’t live; and yet there are those who lived even though they may not reach old age.

   What eighth grader chooses such a pasuk? A deep one. A special one.

      Arriving to Shevach High School in Queens to teach my 12^th grade halacha classes Monday morning, the menahales warned the teachers that some of the students may have known Liel and may have a hard time concentrating. This was true.

   I shared with them everything written above, but added the following. One is not being selfish if in addition to their grief, especially those who are still young, respond to this event with a tinge of fear. Sudden tragedy has the ability to stunt and paralyze us. “What is to say I will not be hurt if I go out? Maybe I should fear going to the next event…”

     I shared with them, and will end this column with what I told them, and communicated with my daughter.

      In the teffilah of modim we make a statement of “…al chayeinu hamesurim b’yadecha, v’al neshmaseinu hapikudas luch…our lives which are in Your hands, and our souls that are in Your trust…”. Now, we can understand if this statement is made in the portion of gevurah, Hashem’s greatness, at the start of shemoneh esreh, but what is a declaration of death being in Hashem’s hands doing in modim, when we are to be grateful and thanking Hashem?! Do we not tremble when we reflect on this same theme in unesaneh tokef on the yomim noriam?

      I explained that such sudden events can mistakenly cause some to believe in the pure randomness of the world. This in turn can cause some become stifled from moving forward. The mere fact that we believe in a mashgiach b’olomo­ – that Hashem is not just a Creator, but an Oversee-er is the greatest cause to give thanks. It reminds us that not only behind every sudden tragedy is great, if not secret, reasoning, but that we never have to worry or become stifled. Rather, this remind us that we can and must move forward with confidence that in the grand scheme of things there is no reason to be scared, as there is no such thing as randomness. And, the only thing we can control, the only matter about which we have dominion is the mitzvos that we do.

     May the memory of Liel, and her special qualities, be a continued source of inspiration to all who knew her. And, may Hashem bring nechama to those whose suffering is beyond comprehension -her dear and special family.