Rabbi Yosef Kalmenson, My Dear Mechutan and Friend
by Rabbi Yosef Katzman
Rabbi Yosef Kalmenson, my dear Mechutan and friend.
I write these lines with a heart shattered into pieces.
On the very first day of Rosh Hashanah, the Lubavitch world lost a giant. Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Kalmenson, of blessed memory, Rosh Yeshiva of the Lubavitch Yeshiva in New Haven for nearly half a century, was suddenly torn away from us at the young age of 70.
For me, this is not just another tragic loss in the community. It is deeply, painfully personal. He is the father and grandfather of my beloved son-in-law, Rabbi Mendel Kalmenson, husband of my dear daughter Chanale, and their children, my grandchildren, the Rebbe’s devoted Shluchim to Belgravia, London.
The suddenness of it all crushes me. I saw him with my own eyes just hours before his passing—waiting in line at the Rebbe’s Ohel on Erev Rosh Hashanah, 2 o’clock in the afternoon. He looked alive, strong, vibrant. He returned home to New Haven, and a few short hours later—he was gone. I cannot comprehend it. I am left broken, shocked, in a state of disbelief. This is the mood, the shattered heart, with which I now enter Yom Kippur.
Every night before going to bed we recite Tehillim chapter 51, the psalm of Teshuva. In verse 19 it says: “זִבְחֵי אֱלֹקִים רוּחַ נִשְׁבָּרָה לֵב נִשְׁבָּר וְנִדְכֶּה אֱלֹקִים לֹא תִבְזֶה” “The sacrifices of G-d are a broken spirit; O G-d, a broken and crushed heart You will not despise.”
I come before Hashem this Yom Kippur with such a heart—broken, crushed, torn—and I beg that He not despise my offering of tears.
Who was Rabbi Kalmenson?
His story itself carries the stamp of holiness. I remember as a child hearing in our home about a righteous woman, Mrs. Bat Sheva Kalmenson. In the early 1950s, when she was pregnant, she was known for her piety and devotion. Throughout her pregnancy she recited Tehillim constantly, praying with all her heart for two things: first, that she be blessed with twin boys, so she could name one for her father and one for the Previous Rebbe; second, that these boys should grow to be great Torah scholars. Both prayers were answered. She gave birth to twin sons, who both became towering Roshei Yeshiva in Lubavitch: Rabbi Yosef Kalmenson in New Haven, and his twin brother Rabbi Yechiel Kalmenson in Brunoy, France.
The funeral of Rabbi Yosef was a sight of heartbreak and love. Hundreds of students came, past and present, grieving their beloved Rosh Yeshiva. One could see the devastation etched into their faces. The love between teacher and student was mutual, deep, unshakable.
For me, my connection goes back fifty years—we studied in Yeshiva together as bochurim. Then, about 18 years ago, our bond deepened forever when my daughter married his son Mendel, and we became Mechutonim. But our relationship was more than formal—we became real friends, close friends, family bound by both heart and spirit.
How many warm visits we shared! When he and his remarkable wife, Rebbetzin Hindy—herself a famed educator—came to Crown Heights, they would come to our home. And when I would travel to New Haven for farbrengens and lectures, my station was their home. He treated me with warmth, humility, and an almost startling kindness.
What stood out most? His humility. Here was a giant of Torah, a Rosh Yeshiva for decades, an author of fourteen volumes of deep yet accessible Torah scholarship studied across the yeshiva world—and yet, he would personally fry me an egg whenever I stayed with them. On Fridays when I arrived, or on Motzoei Shabbos for Melava Malka, he would insist on preparing it for me. It was unnecessary, it was humbling, it was disarming—and it was him. A man whose greatness was matched only by his simplicity.
His Seforim, titled Kovetz Reshimos Shiurim—a compendium of his Talmudic lectures—are studied worldwide. They became instant best-sellers across the yeshiva world, treasured by bochurim and teachers alike. So clear, so deep, so full of life were his words, that in some Yeshivos the books were actually banned from student access—because the Maggidei Shiur (teachers) feared their Talmidim (students) would discover how much they themselves drew upon his explanations when preparing classes!
And yet, in his last weeks, he seemed to know something. He worked tirelessly to finish preparing the next volume for publication, saying he must complete it before Rosh Hashanah. He spoke with his family in ways that, in hindsight, feel like words of farewell. As though he knew his mission was reaching its end.
Just weeks ago, his children honored him for his 70th birthday with the completion of a Sefer Torah in his merit. He spent those days surrounded by his children, including Mendel and Chanale who flew in from London with their children—our grandchildren. He was radiant with nachas, basking in the love and unity of his family.
I would often marvel at this family. At Simchas, watching the warmth, the brotherhood, the genuine joy they had in one another, I would think: this is true Chinuch. When Mendel would say with pride, “My best friends are my brothers,” I knew I was witnessing the fruit of an upbringing soaked in love.
And now, we are left with this aching void.
The Alter Rebbe writes in Tanya (Iggeres HaKodesh 28) that “at the time of the passing of Tzaddikim, the chesed of G-d radiates from world to world upon those who fear Him, and effects salvations in the midst of the earth, to atone for the sins of the generation.” These holy words are my comfort. On Rosh Hashanah, as we entered the days of awe, Rabbi Kalmenson ascended on high, and his soul became a beacon of mercy for us all. His departure, painful beyond words, is also an atonement for our people.
So as I walk into Yom Kippur this year, I do so not only with my own broken heart, but with the broken hearts of his family, of his Talmidim, of Klal Yisroel. And I cling to the promise of Tehillim: Hashem does not despise the offering of a broken heart. He treasures it. He accepts it.
May this brokenness arouse His great Mercy, to seal us in the Book of Life. May He comfort the Kalmenson family, and all of us who weep. And may He transform our tears into joy, our mourning into consolation, and our shattered hearts into vessels of blessing.
May we hear only good news, may we know only happiness, and may the memory of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Kalmenson be a source of light and inspiration forever.
May we merit to witness Techiyas Hameisim, when we will be reunited with Rabbi Kalmenson speedily, with the coming of Moshiach, NOW!
On Yom Kippur, may we all be sealed and inscribed in the book of life, for a sweet, joyous year.
Have an easy fast,
Good Year
