Here’s My Story: Know Whence You Come

Mr. Robert Kremnizer

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I was born in Bombay, India, where my parents fled when the Nazis invaded Poland in 1939. They had first tried to enter Israel but were prevented by the British who then controlled the so-called “Mandate for Palestine.” Neither could they obtain a visa for America, so they took the next best option. They lived in India for seven years and then immigrated to Australia when I was three.

I was brought up in a home that was largely devoid of any kind of Jewish education; in fact, I’d describe my father as anti-religious. Because of his views, shaped largely by the Holocaust, I was sent to an elite non-Jewish school, and it was not until I was in my 30s that I learned anything about Judaism. Before I encountered Chabad, I hardly knew what Yom Kippur was.

However, when my father was dying, he told me that – while he didn’t approve of my exploration of Judaism – he felt that I needed to know that we descended from an illustrious chasidic family: the Kremnitzer Rebbe and his Rebbetzin, who was the daughter of the Maggid of Mezritch.

About a year after my father died, in 1975, I was involved in a business deal. Without going into the details, I was asked by a Chinese national from Hong Kong to purchase a property in Sydney, which was to be resold to a foreign government seeking an embassy building. A large profit was to be made on this transaction, and I agreed to get involved, provided that the details of the deal be disclosed to the buyer. I was promised they would be, but when at the last moment I learned they would not be, I backed out. However, I thought it unfair that the Chinese partner should profit from my disengagement and it was agreed that my share of the profit would go to a charity of my choice.

This is how a donation of $150,000 (which is almost a million dollars in today’s money) was offered to the Chabad yeshivah, headed by Rabbi Pinchus Feldman, the Rebbe’s emissary in Sydney. Rabbi Feldman was bewildered by this massive sum and he asked me to write to the Rebbe about it, though he did not specify what I should say.

Although I had been learning Torah with Rabbi Feldman for a while, I did not understand the religious world as yet, and I did not know who the Rebbe was. Today, I am very embarrassed – from the top of my head to the very soles of my feet – about the extent of my ignorance and the letter that I wrote to the Rebbe back then. It went along the lines of, “Hello! How are you mate? I heard you are a Rebbe. I am kind of a Rebbe too, because my father told me I descend from the Rebbe of Kremnitz. So as one Rebbe to another, I’m just saying hello from Sydney, Australia, and if I can help you in any way, please let me know. Anyway, cheers, good luck, bye.”

Needless to say, I didn’t get a reply to that letter. Nor did I get a reply to any of the more proper letters I subsequently sent as I became more Jewishly knowledgeable. Finally, in 1984 – when I was involved in starting a religious high school for girls and reported to the Rebbe on the progress of this project – I got my first reply. He wrote:

May G-d grant you the fulfillment of your heart’s desires for good in the matters that you wrote. There is surely no need to emphasize to you at length that since all blessings come from G-d and the channel to receive them is through the everyday life and conduct in accordance with His will, every additional effort in matters of Torah and mitzvot, though a “must” for their own sake, widens these channels. And, of course, there is always room for advancement in all matters of goodness and holiness, Torah and mitzvot, which are infinite, being connected with The Infinite.

The odd thing about the letter was that my name was spelled differently – both in the body of the letter and on the envelope – to the way I spell it. This was clearly intentional – and not just a typo – because the typed name was twice corrected by hand to read “Kremnich.”

I did some research into this and I learned that, two hundred years ago, this is how my name would have been pronounced, so I surmised that the Rebbe was gently acknowledging my embarrassing letter of eight years prior where I mentioned my lineage, and doing so with a smile and good wishes.

I finally was able to meet the Rebbe in 1985. In advance of traveling to New York, I wrote to tell him about my Torah studies. In particular, I’d had a very difficult time learning Hebrew and put in much effort until, at last, I was able to read and comprehend the holy texts by myself. This is what I was most proud of and what I triumphantly shared in my letter, asking for a blessing for continued success in my efforts.

At this time, the Rebbe was no longer granting private audiences, but it was possible to speak with him as he was handing out dollars for charity. I will never forget when my turn came and I was pushed forward by the crowd and stood in front of the Rebbe. Everyone who has waited in line to receive a dollar understands what an awe-inspiring experience it was to find oneself suddenly face-to-face with the Rebbe.

I remember looking into his piercing blue eyes and seeing his warm smile and taking the dollar. He said something to me, but I had no idea what. No idea whatsoever. And then I was directed to move forward to make room for the next person.

My friend Yanky Barber who was behind me said afterwards, “That was very curious.” I didn’t understand what he was referring to, but he explained: “The Rebbe spoke to you in lashon hakodesh – in biblical Hebrew, not in modern Hebrew.”

I immediately understood why he did that – it was because I had written that letter, boasting that I was able to learn Torah on my own. And the Rebbe acknowledged that by speaking to me in lashon hakodesh (which I didn’t understand as well as I thought).

Apparently, the Rebbe had some kind of mental storehouse for every person who ever shared a personal piece of information with him. It’s as if he somehow preserved it all in his memory and brought out the recollection at the appropriate occasion. And that to me is simply incredible – but just one of the many incredible traits that this holy man possessed.

Mr. Robert Kremnizer is an attorney practicing law in Sydney, Australia. He is also the author of ten books on Chassidut, including a collection of first-hand experiences with the Rebbe entitled Australian Encounters. He was interviewed in August 2017.