The Rabbi and The Rebbetzin (16 page)

Aaron
surprised Shulamit with his response. “I can live with the possibility that you
may find someone else more desirable than me. After all, marriages are made in
Heaven, and the Almighty is not likely to choose a secular man in a
Pennsylvania law school, even an observant one, over a man who has spent his
entire life studying Torah. I only have to worry about finding favor in your
eyes during the three month summer period. After that my doubts will disappear.”

 “So
what else is bothering you?” Shulamit asked.

“Quite
frankly,” Aaron replied, “I am not worried as much about the possibility of me
not winning you over but rather the possibility of winning you over and finding
that my efforts were in vain. I worry that being far away from home and living
in a very secular environment, you may lose some of the values with which you
have been brought up. Many young people with a full religious training lose
their faith and practice when they go out on their own. I want you to promise
me, Shulamit that, come what may, you will retain your observance of kashrus
and Shabbos. I want you to assure me that if we do get married, you will
observe the laws of modesty and family purity.”

“I
can give you my word about Shabbos and kashrus because I have grown up in a
very religious home and have always practiced such laws. I have been lighting
Shabbos candles since I went to college. As far as modesty is concerned, I will
not embarrass my husband if he is a rabbi. If my mother lets her dressmaker sew
clothes for me, they will surely be modest. I have not learned the laws of
family purity yet because marriage was not imminent. If you are talking about
the mikveh, I expect that I will be going.

“As
far as God choosing you over another man because you have learned so much Torah,
I have my doubts. There are other character requirements that may be more
important than Torah study. Far be it from me to understand the ways of God,
and the only Talmud I studied was in day school. I do read a lot, however,
about Jewish laws and customs.

“One
of the interesting things that I read about marriages is that a husband has to
support a wife in the style that she was accustomed to in her parent’s home
before marriage. My father claims that he spends a $100,000 a year on me. We
may eliminate my sports car because the Torah requires only support for food,
clothing and marital relations. The last item doesn’t cost much money, but food
and clothing cost him in the neighborhood of $50,000. Jewelry of course is
considered part of clothing. If I had to wait until you could support me, I
would never get married.”

Aaron and Shulamit talk
of love. Shulamit starts U of Penn law school, and runs for president of the
freshman class.

Aaron
was not upset with her words. “If you had read further in the Talmud,” Aaron replied,
“the rabbis already had experience with such cases and made provision to help
the poorer men in society. Where necessary, a woman may proclaim financial
independence and release her husband from supporting her in any manner. In
return for waving her rights of support, the husband has to be willing to
relinquish his rights to whatever his wife earns. Otherwise, according to
Jewish law, the money a woman earns belongs to her husband.”

Shulamit
was delighted to hear that. From various trust funds which belonged to her
since she became of age, her earnings would be very close to a $100,000 a year.
Her father had set aside trust funds for the benefit of all his children. They
were entitled to use these funds when they would reach the age of twenty-one.

“While
you are at law school, I hope you will have time to answer the emails that I
send you,” Aaron pleaded. “And I would still like to be your escort at the Chanukah
dinner.”

“I
think we could arrange that if you keep your letters brief, and my mother gets
me a new gown for the occasion.”

Somewhat
satisfied and realizing that he could get no further commitments from her,
Aaron changed the subject. “To mark your acceptance to law school and to
encourage you to think about me, I would like to present you with a small gift.”

Shulamit
gracefully lifted her left hand, which carried a Rolex woman’s watch studded
with large diamonds and emeralds and waved her hand before Aaron’s eyes. “What
were you saying about a gift, Aaron?”

Aaron
caught the gesture without even using his acute powers of observation. He knew
that he was defeated and did not pursue the subject any further.

“Don’t
feel bad,” she said. “My parents also felt that they should mark my entry into
law school with an appropriate watch. When I look at my watch and think about
my parents I will also try to think about you. Incidentally, I also have a gift
for you to mark your ordination and college graduation.” So saying, she dug
into the picnic basket and took out a small package. “You can give your present
watch to your younger sister, and use the rabbinical watch that’s in the
package.” When Aaron opened the package, he found a good-looking watch with
Hebrew numerals, a product of Israel.

Following
their conversation, Aaron took leave of Shulamit and wished her success in her
studies. He had a lot to do afterwards and could not spend any more time on
romantic affairs. For the next two weeks he would only take care of his
personal business.

In
order of importance, he devoted himself to matters relating to his work and
residential requirements. His first appointment was with the principal of the
day school, who had promised him an opportunity to teach in place of Rabbi
Solomon who was on a leave of absence. Aaron was assigned to teach the seventh
and eighth grades in Talmud. The seventh grade was scheduled to meet daily for
his course from 9:00 to 11:00 AM. The eighth grade met from 1:00 to 3:00 PM. In
between the two classes, Aaron taught the eighth grade
Chumash
(Bible)
from 11:00 AM to noon. All told, he had twenty hours a week of classroom
instruction from Monday through Thursday. The school did not meet on Sundays.

Lacking
seniority and classroom experience, Aaron was not offered Ilan Solomon’s salary.
Together with the synagogue work, however, Aaron could live comfortably. He was
not troubled by his unfamiliarity with Hebrew because instruction would be
given in English. He was pleased with the textbooks, which were essentially
pamphlets of chapters in the Talmud with the Aramaic text translated to Hebrew.
The seventh grade was given pamphlets with the chapter
Hamafkid
from the
tractate
Bava Metziah.
The eighth grade was assigned the first chapter
of the tractate
Brachot.
For
Chumash
, Aaron used a book which
translated the Rashi from Hebrew to English for the book of
Bereshit
(Genesis). He had time until the end of August to prepare for his teaching and
he did so diligently.

On
the next day, he visited with the Duquense graduate school dean and outlined
the program he had prepared for his master’s studies. He allocated four hours,
from 4:00 PM on, for the fifteen credits in secular studies. The courses ranged
from one to three hours. The dean advised him that this was a very heavy
program, but Aaron saw no way of reducing his academic load. His undergraduate
grades were sufficient to allow fifteen credits.

The
dean asked him when he planned to start his studies, and Aaron answered that he
would elect the second round of summer classes starting July 5
^th
.
Here a problem arose. To be accepted for a graduate degree, Aaron had to pass
the GRE (Graduate Record Examination), and this could not be done before the
start of class. Aaron inquired if there was any way to meet this requirement
and still be able to take six credits during the summer.

The
dean took a look at Aaron’s undergraduate transcript and said, “Given your high
grade point average, there is a way to do it − but it entails some risk.
You could be accepted to the MA program conditionally. If you earn grades of B
or higher and pass the GRE with a credible mark, we will honor the summer
credits retroactively. If you fail to meet these requirements, you will be
dropped from the master’s program. Your credits will be non-transferable and a
total loss.”

Aaron
did not have to think about it for too much time. The dean had offered him a
privilege which was too good to lose. He did not have to worry about the course
work which was largely on the introductory level. His problem was taking the
GRE without any preliminary instruction or tutoring programs. He resolved to
study as hard as he could from books which generally bore the title, “Preparing
for Your GRE Exam.” Much to his relief, he passed the examination with a better
than average grade.

With
the academic programs settled, Aaron focused his attention on residential and
related problems. The dean of the yeshiva had assigned Rabbi Weiss to clear the
dormitory rooms for the incoming students. The majority of the newly-ordained rabbis
would have preferred to remain at the yeshiva for an extra year in some form of
a Kollel group. The dean would have loved to help them but he did not have the
resources to do so. There were no rooms for them and he could not afford an
advanced teacher to instruct them. He told Rabbi Weiss that all the ordained
rabbis and those who had no interest or hope of achieving ordination had to leave.
They would receive certificates of graduation but no rabbinic title.

Rabbi
Weiss asked the dean how much time he could allow the students to stay before
they were forced to leave.

The
dean answered, “They have until Tisha B’Av (the 9
^th
day of the
Hebrew month of Av). We cannot do any construction until after Tisha B’Av, but
we must refurbish and paint the rooms before the new students arrive on the
first day of Elul. There must be no exceptions in sending away the students who
have finished and no rooms to be left unpainted.”

Rabbi
Weiss told the dean how the repainting problem was met in other yeshivos whose
resources were scarce. At least one room had to be kept in tip-top condition
for prospective parents of new students and for donors who were invited to tour
the school in order to gain their support. Such donors could not be shown
unoccupied rooms because they would have little impact upon them. Two or three
students who were known for their neatness were selected for these rooms and
given a tuition discount, on condition that they kept their rooms neat and
spotless. Rehabilitation of the other rooms was then deferred for another year.

The
dean may have known of this subterfuge, but he would have no part of it. He
said to Rabbi Weiss, “My father told me when he went to his yeshiva he was
happy to sleep on a narrow bench in the Beis Midrash. We no longer do things
that way, least of all in America.”

Rabbi
Weiss set about contacting the students who were on the eviction list. He told
them that in the larger cities such as New York and Baltimore there were Kollelim
which might accept them. Otherwise, they were old enough to fend for themselves
or return to their parents. Another suggestion was to marry into a rich family
where a father-in-law could support such extended study. Wherever possible, he
would give personal advice and guidance to those in need of help. The students
understood the necessity of the action, and although they were disappointed,
there was no bitterness. They knew that the yeshiva had done its best to teach
them Torah.

Aaron
Adler was not among the disappointed men. In his heart he had left the yeshiva when
he stood on the pulpit of Beth Israel for the first time. When he was denied an
opportunity to work at the yeshiva as teacher of the incoming students for
reasons which had not to do with ability, he had emotionally detached himself
from Yeshiva Ohr Moshe.

Thinking
about a place to live, he faced a dilemma. For purposes of teaching in the day
school, an apartment in Pittsburgh near the school would have been perfect.
Such apartments were available, and he could afford them on the wages he would
be earning. For work at Beth Israel, however, he required an apartment that
would allow him to walk to the synagogue on Sabbaths and holidays. Public transportation
from Dunberg to the yeshiva and thereafter to Duquense was simply not
available. To pay the higher rent in Dunberg and to get to the day school on
time, there was only one answer. Aaron needed a car and he spoke to Abe Levine.
He told Levine that Shulamit had mentioned an eight-year-old Ford that Levine had
threatened to make her drive instead of her new sports car.

“Do
you really have an eight-year-old Ford, or was she just citing a hypothetical
example of a car that no civilized person would want to drive?”

Levine
answered, “The car is not hypothetical, but the tires may be very close to it.
If you can afford to buy a set of tires, I could lend you the car for a year. We
were probably going to junk it anyway, but it might serve you for the coming
year.” With his transportation problems solved, Aaron set out to find a place
to live.

Dunberg
was a suburban community with expensive private homes. The city, however, had a
commercial area with stores. He was hoping that some stores had built small
apartments above the stores which could be rented. He knew some storekeepers
who worshipped at Beth Israel and he went downtown to make inquiries. Much to
his good fortune, he was directed to one store that had two floors above the
commercial area. One apartment on the top floor was already vacant and Aaron
lost no time renting it for one year, even though the cost was high. The next
day he drove in his Ford to the yeshiva and enlisted some of his friends to
help him move to his new apartment.

After
parting with Aaron, Shulamit spent a few days shopping for clothes for the
school year. Pittsburgh had many fine department stores and Shulamit had charge
accounts for most of them. She then spent another few days at Telacomp picking
up the latest electronic equipment for use at school. With that, she gave
thought to her residence for at least the next two years.

On
the last Sunday in June, she drove in her sports car to the University of
Pennsylvania. She ruled out the possibilities of living in the dormitory. Aside
from the fact that she planned to employ three people, there was a problem with
her sports car. The school could assign her a reserved space in the parking
lot. But she knew that as soon as her space number would become known there
would be a line of young men waiting to carry her books and escort her to class.
She knew that she had to live off-campus and park near her residence. Driving
from the university to the commercial area, she spotted a real estate store
carrying the name of Kaplan. She parked near the store and was greeted by the
owner, Dave Kaplan.

“Good
morning,” he said, “and you are Ms …?”

“I
am Shulamit Levine, and I am a student at the law school.”

“Can
I help you?” Kaplan asked, “Are you looking for a small apartment near the school?”

“No
way,” she said. “I need a five- to six-room apartment.”

Mr.
Kaplan looked startled. “I hope you are not planning to open a brothel here. It
may not be appropriate for this area.”

Shulamit
gave him a scornful look but chose not to walk out because he might just list
the apartment she needed. “Get your mind out of the gutter and make believe for
a minute that I am the wife of a law school professor with three kids from a
former marriage.”

Kaplan
was a shrewd business man and knew that he was dealing with an upper class
woman. He did not believe that she was married, but she had all the trappings
of wealth. “Do you drive Ms. Levine, and will you need a garage or a parking
space?” Kaplan asked.

She
led him outside and said, “I’ll need a covered garage for my new car.”

Kaplan
gulped at the sight of the car and said, “I think I have something for your
needs. There is a Mrs. Shapiro who lives about a block from here who owns a
very nice private house. She is a widow and quite poor since her husband died.
She converted the upper floor to an apartment for herself and she rents the
downstairs apartment with six rooms to people who can afford it.”