Unknowingly, He Helped Build A Village

By Rabbi Yoseph Kahanov

Gentle winds sweeping through weltering trees; rustlings of fallen leaves beneath rhythmic footsteps; chirping birds and scurrying squirrels, contribute to the calmness cast over a mind drowned in the fog of an ever so noisy and demanding world.
The hypnotic atmosphere of a quiet afternoon stroll through any cemetery is easily turned into a transcendental experience. The calm soon gives way to wraith like reality. Each grave appears to take on its own character and identity – divulging secrets of a treasure sheltered within.
Tales of success, power, wealth, love, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, contrasted by that of suffering, bitterness and failure, radiate from beneath the ground; finding expression within the receptive ear.
For some, the proverbial “Dash” – spanning the date of birth and the date of death – bespeaks a lifetime of joy and accomplishment, for others it represents a journey of deep pain and disappointment.
The attentive listener, who may turn-up at the site of a freshly dug grave in the Jewish section of Jacksonville’s Arlington Cemetery, will no doubt encounter a similar experience. But there’s something unique about the person for whom this plot has become an eternal resting place. The legacy that rises from the soft dirt of this newly interned resident is of a whole other sort.
While the life of Shmuel Ben Avraham was riddled with adversity and failure – some might even say “ultimate failure” – as it ended in a state of destitution and complete estrangement from all biological family members, immediate and distant alike – his legacy is ironically one of virtue and inspiration. Shmulik, you see, was a Baal Teshuvah (penitent), in the truest sense of the word.
My love for Shmulik was at first sight. By the time I returned home from an out of town trip a few days before Rosh Hashanah, his camper, which was home for him, had already been parked and hooked up at the back of the Chabad Center for several days. The hectic pre-holiday schedule did not afford us an opportunity to formally meet. All I knew about this man was what I picked up here and there from members of the Shul. Things like very sick… dying… alone…
Then came the first Shabbos. In keeping with our tradition of encouraging all guests to share a blessing or a thought, it was soon Shmulik’s turn to offer some words. Shmulik, who as we’ve come to learn, was never at a loss for words, got up and spoke.
He briefly described his situation: he was indeed an ill and dying man; a man who had lost everything in life, from his wealth, to his health, to his family – left to face his deteriorating health and demise alone in the word.
But he soon moved on to talk about the “Mission” upon which he had embarked: to travel and encourage Jews to become more Jewishly involved. He was particularly outspoken about the need for Jews to attend Synagogue services and the importance of the “Minyan”- a theme he repeated countless times in the ensuing months. He spoke passionately about the Synagogue being the lifeline of Judaism and the only hope for its future.
Even more impressive were his words of regret over having only established a true and loving relationship with G-d in his woeful state of deterioration and failure. There was no anger, no bitterness over his awful circumstances and fate, just a burning desire to do something for G-d and Jewish continuity.
How unusual! How selfless!
From experience I knew quite well that this was not the ordinary reaction to a life gone bad. Things usually worked the other way around. Most people take credit for life’s successes and blame G-d for life’s failures. This man saw things in whole different light.
These sentiments were echoed during the many ensuing hours of conversation that I’ve had with him, at which time I’ve learned of the rich and colorful life he had led before losing it all. I found him to be a true inspiration and tried to spend as much time with him as possible. I encouraged him to record his story, so others could gain draw inspiration.
Yet, for me the most significant part of his legacy is what he gave to our community. Shmulik had recognized the unique spirit and soul of the small Jewish community in Jacksonville. That, no doubt, is why he returned so quickly after having briefly left for another city.
He chose to come back and live-out the remainder of his time and to die here, because he knew what we ourselves might not have known at the time, he recognized that this was a kind and giving community and that he was in caring and able hands. By doing so he gave us a chance to rise to the occasion and shine. And rise and shine we did.
Despite the extraordinary needs of a not always most tactful person, the love and care poured in from all directions. Without realizing it, we were unwittingly involved in a truly benevolent cause, each one playing his own little role.
When the time suddenly came for a funeral to be arranged, the community valiantly pulled together to accomplished the task at hand. Chabad and Etz Chaim have joined forces like never before. Within 48 hours the necessary funds were raised and a funeral, befitting the most respectable of human beings, was underway. People from across the spectrum responded to the call.
Over fifty people were in attendance at a funeral of a man thay hardly even knew, despite the unseasonably cold weather. Yes, it took a village to accomplish this wonderful act of kindness and, thanks to Shmulik, we became that village.
So, I thank you Shmulik for bringing out the best in us and for bringing us together in way that we haven’t been before. What a fitting legacy for a man whose only remaining hope in life was to do something on behalf of Judaism and Jewish continuity. You have succeeded beyond your wildest imagination. It is you that our sages had in mind when declaring: “Some acquire their [next] world in one moment.”
And I thank you Jacksonville for being such a great community. Special thanks goes out to the Jacksonville Chevrah Kaddisha, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch, Jay Graff, Hardage Giddens, Jewish Family and Community Services, Mazal Synvani, Marty Schwartz, Shaul Robson and all those who gave so generously of their time, money, and effort in the performance of this great act of kindness. May G-d bless you among the rest of the members of this community and the nation of Israel.