Thousands Mourn at Funeral for Leiby Kletzky

With shock and grief clutching Borough Park in Brooklyn, thousands of mourners and residents poured into a neighborhood courtyard Wednesday evening for the funeral of an 8-year-old Brooklyn boy who was abducted and killed this week as he walked home from camp.

The funeral for the boy, which was held entirely in Yiddish, swelled to capacity before its scheduled start time at 8:30, prompting many of the thousands who could not get in to gather behind police barricades, crowding neighborhood streets as they waited to pay their respects to the young boy, Leiby Kletzky, whose remains were discovered earlier in the day. Throngs of police officers and members of a local security patrol group, the shomrim, kept order as a steady stream of visitors poured into the courtyard, adjacent to a school between 16th and 17th Avenues, within two blocks of where the boy lived. One shomrim volunteer estimated that close to 8,000 people were in attendance.

“We need to separate like the Red Sea so the family can get through,” one officer announced.

Inside, a large gathering of mourners in Orthodox and traditional modest dress — men and women separated as per custom — clutched leather-bound prayer books and chanted, some in tears, others stoic. Two elderly women known for their charity work passed around tins for donations, or tzedakah. Bottles of water and boxes of tissues were passed through the audience. Upfront, the women in Leiby’s family sat together, their heads covered in scarves and their faces etched with grief.

The service began shortly before 10 p.m., and was marked by a speech from the boy’s father, whose voice shook as he stood before the crowd and addressed his dead son, saying in Yiddish that he was lucky to have had him, if only for nine years.

“Thank God we had him,” he said, according to a translator.

And then, overcome by emotion, he went silent. A moment later the principal of Leiby’s school spoke.

“He got lost, he got lost,” he said, according to the translator. “There’s nothing to say, he got lost. God wanted it.” Several rabbis also spoke in Yiddish through intermittent tears, repeatedly breaking down. They extolled the boy’s good qualities, and reminded the community to be careful, urging the adults to protect their children. At one point the rabbi of the synagogue that Leiby attended recalled the boy’s devotion to his studies.

“He was such a good learner,” the rabbi said, according to a translation. “He used to pray all day. It was a pleasure to have him in the class. We’re not the boss. Everything is as God wanted it.”

The funeral came only hours after the family learned the news that their search for Leiby, who disappeared on Monday, had come to a devastating end. According to investigators, the boy — who would have turned 9 this month — was on his way to meet his parents after leaving the Nechmod Day Camp, at the Yeshiva Boyan at 1205 44th Street, on Monday afternoon when he got lost and asked for directions. His parents reported him missing, and surveillance footage later showed him in the company of a man the police identified as Levi Aron, 35, a local supply store clerk. The police said Mr. Aron took Leiby to his home, killed him, and cut up his body, parts of which were found in a refrigerator-freezer in Mr. Aron’s tiny attic apartment, less than two miles from the Kletzky home. He was charged Wednesday night with second degree murder. The news devastated the tight-knit community of Borough Park, where residents had raised reward money for Leiby’s return and formed search parties, scouring the streets in the days he was missing.

“We feel like we lost one of our own,” said Leah Rosenberg, a resident who showed up at the funeral. “He was everybody’s child. There was a pregnant woman dismembered in this neighborhood about 20 years ago. This brings it all back. It’s like ripping open an old wound. It’s a new pain and an old pain.

“Our hearts convey our condolences,” she added, before bursting into tears.

Some of those in attendance said they had viewed their community as relatively safe, and noted that a certain level of trust that had been implicit had suddenly been destroyed.

“I don’t even know the family, but I feel like it’s a community tragedy,” said Claire Wercberger, 54, a nursery school teacher who attended the funeral. “I’m devastated, horrified. There are no words. To say it’s a nightmare is an understatement. Everybody is heartbroken. It’s an unbelievable situation. It makes me much more on guard as a teacher and as a community member.”