The recent death of Rebbetzin Lea Raichik of Los Angeles, has prompted two Portland women—Raichik’s daughter and granddaughter—to reflect on the commonalities and differences three generations of women have experienced as Chabad emissaries in a rapidly changing world.
Devora Wilhelm and her daughter Simi Mishulovin now pursue the same goal of reaching out to and enhancing the Jewish community in the Portland area as Raichik did for nearly 59 years in Los Angeles.
World Changes, Women’s Mission Stays Same
The recent death of Rebbetzin Lea Raichik of Los Angeles, has prompted two Portland women—Raichik’s daughter and granddaughter—to reflect on the commonalities and differences three generations of women have experienced as Chabad emissaries in a rapidly changing world.
Devora Wilhelm and her daughter Simi Mishulovin now pursue the same goal of reaching out to and enhancing the Jewish community in the Portland area as Raichik did for nearly 59 years in Los Angeles.
“The rebbe saw the need for the growth of Judaism in Los Angeles 58½ years ago and in Portland 23 years ago,” said Mishulovin. “He literally cared that every Jewish person’s needs—physical or spiritual—should be met by his emissaries in more than 3,000 centers around the world.”
Raichik moved from New York City, away from the few members of her family who survived the Holocaust, to Los Angeles shortly after her marriage in 1948 to Rabbi Samuel David Raichik. Sent by the Chabad rebbe to expand the Jewish infrastructure and reach out to all Jews regardless of their connection to their Judaism, the young couple spent three days on a train to a city where they knew no one.
The same was true 24 years ago when Rabbi Moshe and Devora Wilhelm moved to Portland with their two young children—Motti and Simi—to open the first Chabad center in Oregon.
In 2005, Simi Mishulovin returned to Portland with her husband Rabbi Chayim Mishulovin to serve as joint youth directors for Chabad of Oregon.
Though all came to their new homes as Chabad emissaries, they all arrived at times and in Jewish communities that were vastly different, said Wilhelm.
“Since the telephone cost $6 for three minutes, a small fortune then, she didn’t call home often,” said Wilhelm of her mother. “And she couldn’t fly home to New York every year. They also sent my brothers away by the time they were bar mitzvah age because there was no yeshiva in LA.”
By contrast, Wilhelm said she called her mother the minute she arrived in her new apartment in Portland, her father visited her two weeks after she arrived, she went to visit her parents twice in the first year and her mother visited her twice. By the time Wilhelm’s children needed a yeshiva, LA had a large yeshiva they could attend while living with their grandparents.
“When it came time for me to send my children away, although it was difficult, we spoke every day on the phone,” said Wilhelm. “Airfare is more affordable—they could come home whenever they wanted. And today with cell phones, your kid can get hold of you anytime. It is a different world today.”
And it’s not just the general world that is different. The three women entered markedly different Jewish communities.
When her mother wanted a kosher chicken for Shabbat, she had to take the bus downtown, buy a live chicken, have it slaughtered by the shochet and bring it home on the bus and then salt it, said Wilhelm. She baked all her own challah and pastries, made gefilte fish from scratch and made her own jellies.
When Wilhelm moved to Portland, she said she brought boxes of frozen chicken and gefilte fish, which she has never made from scratch. Initially she had to bake her own challah and cakes, a tradition she has continued though she said now she has the option of buying kosher challah locally.
Of her own return to Portland, Mishulovin said, “I can see first hand how my parents arrival in Portland 24 years ago has been a catalyst for growth in this Jewish community—in so many ways, with kashrut, education…”
She said she benefited from the gains of her grandparents and parents: “They had to worry about their children’s education—that has been established for us. My grandparents helped found what has become the largest Orthodox day school west of the Mississippi.”
But Mishulovin said her parents and grandparents did have one generational advantage—guidance from the rebbe.
“When my grandparents were sent out, they were in constant communication with the Lubavitcher rebbe,” said Mishulovin. “They had a close connection and received hundreds of letters, which are so special to my family. Their every step was with the guidance of the rebbe.
“My parents were sent with the blessings of the rebbe and they’ve gotten beautiful answers to their questions,” she added. “My husband and I have hundreds of books the rebbe wrote and the rebbe clearly stated his goal of making the world a place of goodness and kindness through the coming of the moshiach, but there is a big void and it’s not the same.”
But many things are the same for the three generations.
“The unconditional love I saw by my grandparents and parents—every Jew was welcomed into their homes and lives,” said Mishulovin of those commonalties.
She said she dreams of having a house someday where she can have an open door policy for Shabbat dinner and welcome as many guests as might come. She said in her apartment she is limited to just 25 people at her Shabbat table.
In her parents home and later her grandparents home where she lived during her high school years, Mishulovin said she saw those generations feed all who were in need of a place for a Shabbat meal—even if it was inconvenient.
For instance, one of Wilhelm’s daughters was born on a Tuesday and she didn’t return from the hospital until Thursday. Yet she still had a table full of guests for Shabbat because “people coming to town needed a place,” and, Wilhelm said, “I wasn’t going to turn them away.”
Wilhelm said that when her mother came to America after World War II, “She was determined to start her life anew. She was looking to marry someone religious and knowledgeable because she knew the war broke up her education.”
Born in Poland to a wealthy hassidic family, only Raichik, her mother and three sisters survived. They found a non-Jewish farmer willing to hide them and they lived in a small hole dug under the barn for many months. Her father and 120 family members were killed in the Holocaust.
“She didn’t harp on how tough life was,” said Wilhelm of her mother. “She said that perhaps we didn’t always have leisure time, but it’s a meaningful life.”
Mishulovin added, “This meaningful life my grandmother spoke about—caring for others and the whole idea of being a Chabad emissary—this is a life we all aspired to.”
“My grandmother was extremely proud her children chose this life for themselves and she saw how her grandchildren incorporate the values she had instilled in her children,” said Mishulovin. “What a beautiful legacy she was able to see in her lifetime.”