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Original Article in JNS:

Let’s face it: Sitting through services can feel long, arduous and not so interactive for worshippers. Congregants tend to talk with seatmates and neighbors to help pass the time.

But not at Rabbi Yehoshua Soudakoff’s High Holiday services. There, you could hear a pin drop. Worshippers had all eyes focused on the prayer leader for hours on end, enjoying it so much that they wound up spending the entire holiday sleeping in the shared apartment/synagogue space of the newly married Chabad rabbinical couple in Israel.Subscribe to The JNS Daily Syndicate by email and never miss our top stories

Rabbi Yehoshua, 27, and his wife, Cheftziba, both deaf from birth, recently hosted Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services in their Rishon Letzion apartment for members of the deaf community. “Twenty came and slept in our home. We had services and meals together. It was really wonderful,” Soudakoff tells the JNS in a phone call from Israel with the assistance of an interpreter. When asked how it was advertised in Israel, Soudakoff quickly (and playfully), replies: “Word of hand!”

“The deaf community in Israel is very close and connected,” relates the executive director of the Jewish Deaf Foundation (JDF) and director of Chabad of the Deaf Community, based in Kfar Chabad, “and Israel is a small country. Word spreads like wildfire.”

The rabbi’s main goal is to create an accessible prayer experience where “people don’t feel deaf, where they feel like regular people.” He notes that in typical services, members of the deaf community are constantly wondering, “What is going on? What’s happening?”

Soudakoff’s services resemble a more conventional, cantor-led service in many ways. But perhaps out of necessity, it’s also more interactive.

“We have a hard-of-hearing person who davens [leads prayers] at the amud [prayer platform], and he signs parts of the tefillah [prayers] so that the rest of the group can follow along,” describes Soudakoff. “Another person stands directly across and tells the congregation when to answer, and indicating the page number on the machzor [prayer book], as well as signing part of the davening [when the chazzan isn’t signing]. So it was more of an interactive experience, with the chazzan, the gabbai and the congregation all davening together, and knowing where everyone else is holding. Which is the whole point of the experience—so that a deaf person doesn’t feel like he or she is catching up or totally lost in prayer.”

He further describes some of the inner workings of the service. “There is singing in the sense that there is a sound, but also signing out the words of the tefillah. For example, we would all read ‘Avinu Malkeinu’ together, or ‘Unetaneh Tokef.’ ”

During Sukkot, he will be driving a mobile sukkah from Metula, in the northernmost town in Israel, all the way down to Eilat at Israel’s southern tip, meeting with deaf people along the way to shake the lulav and the etrog.

Singing through signing, following the cantor

Moishy Wertheimer, a board member of the Jewish Deaf Foundation who met Soudakoff many years ago when they were roommates in yeshivah, served as cantor for the High Holidays. “The crowd sings through signing, following the chazzan, with assistance of Rabbi Soudakoff,” he clarifies. “There is also shofar-blowing.”

Those who have cochlear implants can hear it; others can feel the vibrations, and some put their hand right on the shofar.

Wertheimer shares some of the challenges of leading services for a community that doesn’t sing. “To be a chazzan leading a deaf crowd is a challenge because they cannot hear me, but Rabbi Soudakoff interprets the prayers into Israeli sign language,” he says, acknowledging that it was definitely different than usual. “Rabbi Soudakoff is a real shliach tzibbur[‘public messenger,’ Wertheimer’s translation]. I learned no matter if they don’t need my voice to lead the prayer, they still they need to ‘feel’ the voice of a chazzan.”

Wertheimer says he’s proud of what the Soudakoffs have accomplished so far. “For many deaf people, our shul is very accessible for them; they can participate without any [communication] barrier.”

Soudakoff would next like to build a synagogue and community center. “We have a lot of dreams. With a physical space, we can do more activities and hold more services.” He already has an impressive record of determination and success in the world of Jewish learning, education, outreach and camping.

Working towards greater inclusion and awareness

Soudakoff was born deaf to two deaf parents. His two brothers and his sister are also deaf. He had a very rich Jewish experience growing up in Los Angeles. “My mother started an organization in Los Angeles for the Jewish deaf. It was in our living room. I always saw events there. I grew up with that exposure.”

Soudakoff then attended Yeshiva Nefesh Dovid, a Jewish deaf high school in Toronto. “There are not many deaf people who have the same opportunities that I had growing up,” he acknowledges.

After three years of studying Jewish texts, he graduated and returned to Los Angeles—thirsty to continue pursuing Jewish learning and his involvement in the Jewish community. Soudakoff quickly learned that the Jewish world offers very few resources for the Jewish deaf, including access to the Jewish community and functions. “I wanted to change that” he says.

So he began blogging and making online videos about Jewish holidays and ideas. “My sister would make videos of herself making latkes or matzah-ball soup, and I would sign and later add captions.” (See “Jewish Deaf Multi Media” on YouTube).

Soudakoff then started summer camps for Jewish children who are deaf. The camp met in the Poconos of Pennsylvania for one summer, then in California the next summer. This past summer, the two-week camp took place in Italy; it was a travel camp with one week in Tuscany, and the second week visiting the north and Rome.

Jeremy J. Fingerman, CEO of the Foundation for Jewish Camp, says “we admire Rabbi Soudakoff’s dedicated efforts. His inspired work reminds us of the importance of making Jewish camp—and indeed, our entire Jewish community—accessible for everyone.”

Jay Ruderman, president of the Ruderman Family Foundation that works to promote and support inclusion worldwide, is similarly impressed with Soudakoff and his work. “How great that we are living in a time when people are proud of who they are and teaching us that people of all abilities have the right to be equal members of our society,” he states.

Wertheimer, the prayer leader, is pleased with what the Soudakoffs and the deaf community have accomplished so far.

“We are working together to bring accessibility for the deaf community into the Jewish world,” he says, pointing out that a great deal of work still lies ahead. “They have a big responsibility for making sure that any deaf Jew has access to Jewish life. I think there has been a lack of Judaism in the Jewish deaf communities because there no awareness and sensitivity for deaf people in Judaism world.”

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Original Article in The Jerusalem Post:

To the astute observer, there are probably more references to the late, great Arthur Ashe throughout the grounds of the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center, home of the US Open, than to Rafael Nadal, Andy Murray, Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic combined. A walk through the grounds of the US Open pays tribute to Ashe in many ways.

There is a plaque honoring Ashe near the South Gate at the Court of Champions, Arthur Ashe Commemorative Gardens, the 24,000-seat Ashe Stadium, a display of mounted photographs of Ashe by Time and Life photographer John Zimmerman, and the seven-minute ’68 Ashe VR (virtual reality) Experience.

The 2018 US Open celebrates Ashe the man, on the 50th anniversary of his US Open victory in 1968.

Arthur Ashe was the first black player selected to the United States Davis Cup team, and he was the only African-American man to win three Grand Slam events – Wimbledon, the US Open and the Australian Open. But Ashe was so much more than an accomplished tennis player. He was a humanitarian who spoke out against injustice and preached tolerance and understanding, a spokesman for such public health concerns as HIV/ AIDS and heart disease, an advocate of sports programs for the underserved, a life-long learner, an US Army lieutenant, and, by some accounts, a philosemite who was profoundly influenced by many Jews.

Raymond Arsenault, the author of a new authoritative, comprehensive 767-page biography, Arthur Ashe: A Life recently spoke with the Magazine about the influence of Jewish people and history on Ashe. Ashe’s father, a jack of all trades, worked “as a chauffeur, butler and handyman for Charles Gregory, one of Richmond’s most prominent Jewish merchants.” One day, while dropping off Mr. Gregory’s laundry, he struck up a conversation with Mattie Cordell Cunningham.

Several months later, they were married, and soon after, became parents to Arthur, and five years later, to his brother, Johnnie.

Ashe was born in 1943 and grew up in Richmond, Virginia, in the segregated South. When he was six, his mother died and Ashe and Johnnie were raised by their father, who worked as a handyman and caretaker for Richmond’s recreation department. The Ashes lived in the caretaker’s cottage in the grounds of 18-acre Blacks-only Brookfield Park, which had baseball fields, basketball courts, a pool and four tennis courts. Ashe began playing tennis at age seven and showed promise.

Ron Charity, a tennis coach and at the time the best black tennis player in Richmond, began working with Ashe and entering him in local tournaments. Ashe won the National Junior Indoor tennis title – the first for an African-American. He began attending UCLA in 1963 on a tennis scholarship. He was also a member of ROTC (Reserve Officers’ Training Corps), which offered tuition assistance in exchange for active military service upon graduation. He joined the US Army in 1966 and became a second lieutenant and eventually a first lieutenant, prior to his discharge in 1969.

A recent USA Today article by sportswriter Sandra Harwitt, who is also author of The Greatest Jewish Tennis Players of All Times, notes that Arthur’s brother, Johnnie, volunteered for a second tour of duty in Vietnam, knowing that two brothers couldn’t see active duty in a war zone at the same time, thereby keeping Arthur on the tennis court. This allowed Ashe to play in and ultimately win the 1968 US Open. Since Ashe was still an amateur at the time and because of his status as an active Army lieutenant, he was unable to accept the $14,000 prize money. The money ended up going to runner-up Tom Okker of the Netherlands, but, as Arsenault notes, an anonymous donor offered Ashe 100 shares of General Motors stock, which he was ultimately allowed to accept.

AT THE ’68 Ashe Virtual Reality exhibit at this year’s US Open, Ashe speaks about the year 1968, and mentions the deaths of both Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy as well as the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City, where two US athletes bowed their heads and raised fists as a salute to the Black Power movement during the playing of the “Star Spangled Banner” (both were subsequently thrown off the Olympic team). These events served as an important impetus for his commitment to and involvement in larger issues of the day.

Mary, a US Open volunteer at the virtual reality exhibit, notes that she “tries hard not to influence people’s experience” as people watch the presentation, but reports that several African-American visitors have shared stories of personal connection with Ashe.

“One playfully shared a story of how Ashe flirted with her when he was 14 and she was 16. Another reported that her cousin is married to Ashe’s brother.”

Another visitor, Tracy Nabaldian of Weston, Connecticut, found the show to be “really cool,” but wishes it was longer.

“It did a neat job in seven minutes of covering his rise and how he found his voice.” She is pleased that a longer documentary about Ashe will premier in 2019.

Ashe’s tennis accomplishments include winning the Davis Cup for the US in 1968 and 1969 and winning the Wimbledon singles title in 1975. Off the court, Ashe got married to artist and photographer Jeanne Moutoussamy in 1977. Ashe began experiencing health problems in 1971 when he suffered a heart attack in July while holding a tennis clinic in New York. In 1979, he underwent a quadruple bypass operation, and in 1983 underwent a second heart surgery.

In 1988, when Ashe was experiencing paralysis in his right arm, it was discovered that he had taxoplasmosis, commonly found in people infected with HIV. It is believed he contracted the virus from blood transfusions from his second heart surgery. Ashe served as national campaign chairman for the American Heart Association and was a member of the National Heart, Lung and Blood Advisory Council.

Ashe was an active civil rights supporter. He was a member of a delegation of 31 African-Americans who visited South Africa. In 1985, he was arrested outside the South African Embassy in Washington during an anti-apartheid rally. He was arrested again in 1992 outside the White House for protesting a crackdown on Haitian refugees. Ashe died in 1993 from AIDS-related pneumonia at the age of 49.

Ashe was a prolific writer, penning books about tennis, basketball and other sports, and several memoirs.

In his 1993 New York Times best-selling book, Days of Grace, he writes about his experience with Jewish people and the Jewish community. He was bothered at the time by the decline in relations between Jews and Blacks in Brooklyn.

“Few aspects of race relations in America have disturbed me as much as the enmity in certain quarters between Blacks and Jews. The entire climate of Black-Jewish relations has become stormy,” Ashe said.

This was in contrast to the very positive experience he had growing up around Jews in Richmond, Virginia.

“I have no reason to feel anything but affection and respect for Jews as a people in the United States. A long time ago I came to the personal realization that all of the people who have helped me become a success in life, a disproportionately large percentage of them have been Jews. And as far as I know, I never sought them out to ask their help. They took the initiative, and continue to do so. Whether or not they are assuaging guilty feelings is, to me, irrelevant.”

Ashe notes, “When I was growing up in Richmond, Jews occupied a prominent and favored place in my life, and in my father’s life. Before and after he found his main job with the Department of Recreation of the City of Richmond, my father worked for a number of wealthy Richmond Jews.” He goes on to list the various Jews who owned department stores and other stores and were “fair and honorable.”

Ashe also observed that “even great wealth did not save the Jews of Richmond from [being subjected to bigotry.” He “became aware of Jews in a more complex way on the tennis team at UCLA,” and writes about how Jews see themselves in American culture. He concludes, “When black demagogues make scapegoats of Jews, we must resist it for what it is; further evidence of the self-hatred and the intellectual and spiritual confusion that racism breeds.”

Arsenault recalls coming across Ashe’s thoughts about the Jews in the research for his book, playfully noting, “I mentioned it, but don’t know if it made it to the cutting room floor!” He notes that more than 200 pages were cut out of the book.

“I was talking about his early encounters with whites. There was one store in Jackson Ward (a section of Richmond, Virginia) and he knows the owner, who was Jewish. His father knew the Schillers, who were Jewish, and the owners of the big department stores, who were Jewish. I think later his sensibility was very philosemitic. He would make references to the Holocaust.

He just had a great sympathy, I think for some of the commonalities of African-Americans and Jews in terms of being outsiders and having to deal with stereotypes, so he often went out of his way to mention the same positive things about Jews and I think it was just obvious and striking to me that he did have that sensibility.”

Arsenault is fairly certain Ashe never went to Israel.

“The closest was Egypt. That’s when he realized in 1980 that he had to retire. He was in Cairo and went out for a run near the big pyramids and all of the sudden you could see he had horrible angina.

He and [wife] Jeanne had a friend, Doug Stein, who was a Long Island doctor who was with them on the trip, basically told him you have to go home and get this taken care of. He did not go straight back though – they went to Amsterdam, and the art museums, then they went back, and they said you are not playing serious tennis again… so in April of 1980, he announced his retirement. I don’t think he ever went to Israel.”

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Original Article in The JNS:

When Rabbi Shmuel Halpert, outgoing Knesset member of the haredi party Agudat Yisrael, invited Rabbi Isaac Schapira to a meeting in July 2011, Schapira’s life changed forever. He was convinced that he had to improve the situation for Jewish cemeteries worldwide, which were suffering from disrepair, neglect and vandalism from outside communities.

Schapira describes Halpert as a pioneer in fighting for the rescue of Jewish cemeteries. “I don’t know who will continue this fight. I think you and your connections are best-suited for it. Just dive in!” said Halpert.

And so, Schapira did just that. “It spoke to me. It broke my heart.”

He has used resources, connections, bridge-building skills, determination and values that he learned from late father, Rabbi Avraham Schapira (Knesset member from the Agudat Israel party and chairman of the Knesset Finance Committee) to found the European Jewish Cemeteries Initiative.

The ESJF was founded in 2015 to begin the process of physically protecting Jewish burial sites in Central and Eastern Europe, particularly in places where Jewish communities were wiped out during the Holocaust. ESJF has so far placed fences around 102 Jewish cemeteries in six European countries. In addition, it has conducted mass field surveys of sites with an impressive 1,500 reports published to date.

Project partners in Europe and Israel

Schapira is proud that his organization has built an infrastructure that European governments recognize as “professional and economically efficient.” For instance, ESJF has obtained governmental funding from the federal government of Germany.

In Israel, Schapira has managed to assemble an impressive coalition of supporters, including Yossi Beilin, scholar—former Knesset and senior Cabinet member, who has held such important government positions as Minister of Justice and Minister of Religious Affairs. Beilin has served as a board member since 2013. He is actively involved in working with international governments with helping secure financial resources.


Rabbi Isaac Schapira, founder of the European Jewish Cemeteries Initiative, sitting with a portrait of his late father, Rabbi Avraham Schapira. Credit: Howard Blas.

Acknowledging the compelling nature of the work, he says: “It became a major issue for me. We found out in a short time that we are the only body on the ground doing the work of finding [and then funding] cemeteries in a systemic way. We are working with the map and creating a body of knowledge in order to prioritize and address the most endangered cemeteries first.”

Knesset members committed to the project include Ksenia Svetlova of the Zionist Union Party, and Rabbi Uri Maklev of the ultra-religious Agudath Yisrael Party. Schapira is proud that members of diverse parties have come together to address the issue of European cemeteries.

Maklev reports, “We got involved when Rabbi Yitzhak Schapira turned to us. He works with much devotion and donates time and money. There is a real danger in the old cemeteries in Europe when they are left unprotected. The issue has worsened over the years. Jewish cemeteries remain unguarded and in constant danger, as Jewish community members now live far from its cemeteries. In addition, anti-Semitism and vandalism exist. It is a right and duty to act for this important cause. We must not stand idly by!”

Svetlova first became aware of the issue of Jewish cemeteries on a trip abroad. Svetlova, who immigrated from Russia in 1991, and served as a journalist and Arab-affairs analyst for Channel 9, was in Libya in 2005 in the remote town of Zlitan when she discovered “the horrible picture of devastation—broken or absent gravestones” at Jewish cemeteries. “It made me very sad. All we have is a grave. We cannot allow us to forget our past. A person who forgets his past has no future.”

Svetlova is also a member of the Immigration, Absorption and Diaspora Committee, where she initiated the Knesset Caucus for the Preservation of Jewish Cemeteries Abroad. She says she is proud that the caucus includes people “from all sides of the aisle.”

On the ground in Europe

Beilin says “people are very worried that cemeteries are vanishing. If we don’t save them now, they won’t be there.”

He has seen a shift from the initial work of providing fencing to cemeteries, to “finding those in immediate danger and giving priority to them, even if they are not in the most convenient places.” He estimates that “we have already lost between 4,000 and 10,000 cemeteries.”

Schapira adds that “the Jewish world needs to know how many Jewish cemeteries are disappearing and are at risk of disappearing due to vandalism, and geological and other reasons.”

Beilin and Schapira shared many stories of cemeteries discovered by accident, including a non-Jewish girl riding her bike in a forest and taking a photo of what she thought was a tombstone. Or of local people providing unexpected assistance to the work of ESJF. “People must have seen us working on a cemetery. One week later, we arrived and saw tombstones there which one week earlier had been missing. They must have thought that, if this was so important, we will give back what was stolen,” reports Schapira.


The restored and preserved Jewish cemetery in Frampol, Poland. Credit: Courtesy of ESJF.

The group’s CEO Philip Carmel praises such work. “Rabbi Schapira has succeeded in changing the way we address the issue of Jewish cemetery protection. … He has brought the issue to the level of national governments and pan-European institutions, so that [it] is dealt with not just as an issue of Jewish heritage, but one of Europe’s common heritage. He has achieved this by absolute strength of conviction and by deep personal commitment.”

Chief Rabbi of Poland Michael Schudrich also admires Schapira’s efforts and feels that he is “following the spirit of his father in understanding what it means to fight for Klal Yisrael.” He is impressed with his drive and ability to bring diverse groups of Jews together. “It is about bringing Jews together for kavod hamet, ‘honoring the dead.’ It is important to build a future.”

Even the Queen of England has recognized Schapira for his lifetime of service. In 2013, she bestowed on him the title “OBE,” Order of the British Empire, for, as Schapira humbly reports, “building bridges of friendship between the British government and the Orthodox communities in England and Israel.”

In our two in-person meetings in New York City, Schapira prefers to direct praise to members of his team, especially Carmel, for “his commitment to the project and his unusual capabilities to achieve so much and so efficiently.”

Beilin agrees, saying the CEO is “there on the ground. He is a very important player. He knows the material of cemeteries. He is so dedicated to the work.”

The lifting of the Iron Curtain

“For almost 73 years,” reports Carmel, “the Jewish world has not been able to deal with the protection of these sites for a number of reasons. Firstly, that the priority after the Shoah was rightly to rebuild Jewish life, communities and institutions, as well as a new Jewish state. Secondly, because for most of this time, these abandoned sites, which were home to thriving Jewish communities for hundreds of years, lay behind the [Soviet] Iron Curtain.

“But since that period, resources have tended to go to specific sites, where there is a particular family connection or where a famous personnage was buried. At such sites, one has found a situation where individual demand from the West and readily available resources has met cheap supply of labor and materials in the East. This has pushed up prices, making the overall task of cemetery protection more difficult. That is why the ESJF as a starting point has looked to change this whole methodology—to work in a professional manner under strict processes of contracts and tenders. To reach viable and legitimate costs, enabling the maximization of the amount of sites we can protect.

“The ESJF looks where possible to target sites which are beneath the radar. Some of these places had all their community wiped out; there are no descendants. So these sites are a priority for us, of course, because if we don’t fence them, nobody will. In the major countries where we work, in particular—Belarus, Ukraine, Moldova—probably 25 percent of the sites have already been destroyed. And they are being destroyed by the week. From our mass surveys, we are looking at some two-thirds of all the remaining sites requiring urgent fencing.”


A restored Jewish cemetery in the Serbian town of Bela Crkva. Credit: Courtesy of ESJF.

Schudrich notes that “nothing was possible until 1989 and the fall of Communism. Then, we started working on mikvaot, kosher food, cheders, minyanim . . . ”

A mission for the Jewish people

Svetalova relates that she is “very grateful for the work being done in Eastern Europe, and is hopeful Jews from the United States and other places will get involved as they learn more.

“Many American Jews come from Eastern Europe and will be able to relate to the importance of the project,” she says. “There must be cooperation between all sides of the Jewish world. We must try to use all connections in the U.S., Europe and Israel with governments in order to put this project on the map. Time is running out. If we don’t, we will find out it is too late!”

“Going forward,” notes Carmel, “we need to look at this as a mission for the Jewish people that is achievable. All peoples and governments protect their cemeteries. Any American can relate that just by driving up from the South to New York—of how the national government has protected graves in Civil War battlefields for more than 150 years ago. Or the graveyards in Normandy protected by the Allied governments from World War I from 100 years ago.

“As Jews,” he continues, “we have the same basic responsibility.”

Today, he notes, thanks to the work of the ESJF and many others, “we know the numbers, we know the areas of greatest risk, we know the costs, and we know the speed it can be done in. This is no longer a black hole. It can be achieved.”

Schapira reports proudly that “in 2017, we rescued our 102nd cemetery. We have the most wonderful, competent team and can do 300 a year.”

He continues to work tirelessly to make sure it’s not too late, that the work can be accomplished—but, he adds, “only if the Jewish nation worldwide develops a feeling of responsibility and partnership to allow this apparatus to continue operating.”

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Original Article Published On The Chabad.ORG

Two young Israeli boys were riding their bikes along Manhattan’s East River Esplanade near Carl Schurz Park at 84th Street. They looked up, smiled, and called to their father in Hebrew: “Abba, look! A sukkah!”

Inside, a young couple with daughters 2 and 4 years old were enjoying a late-afternoon Yom Tov snack as runners, bikers, families pushing strollers and pedestrians walking dogs enjoyed the esplanade outside. The sukkah offers an amazing view of the Triborough Bridge and Roosevelt Island.

In a neighborhood where an apartment with a balcony or private rooftop large enough to host a family sukkah costs about $4 million, public sukkahs are a must for just about anyone who wants to spend time and eat in a sukkah.

About a 10-minute walk from the esplanade—at the sukkah just outside the John Jay Playground and tennis practice wall at East 77th Street and Cherokee Place (East of York Avenue)—a curious mother, father and two kids peeked in, asking “What shul put this up?” They admired the paper chains and art crafted by a group of schoolchildren, and the hanging evergreens of the sechach—the roof, made of materials grown from the ground—and read the sign saying that it was a Chabad sukkah. They also recited the “Leshev” and “Shehecheyanu” blessings as a family, noting that it was their first time observing the mitzvah of sukkah this holiday season.

Chabad sukkahs in public spaces on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, including the ones along the Esplanade (East 84th Street), John Jay Playground (East 77th Street and Cherokee Place), Rupert Park Playground (91st Street and Second Avenue), Samuel Seabury Playground (96th Street and Lexington Avenue), as well as the five sukkahs on roofs and balconies at the Chabad House (419 East 77th St.), answer an issue all too familiar to Jewish urban-dwellers.

The Chabad school's gimmel class made paper chains and other decorations. (Photo: Howard Blas)

“We have a unique challenge here, where even the wealthiest can’t easily put up a sukkah since they don’t have spaces that look up to the sky,” Rabbi Ben Tzion Krasnianski, director of Chabad Lubavitch Upper East Side in New York City, tells Chabad.org. And so, he says, “it is more critical than ever to build sukkahs in public spaces.”

In Manhattan, few people live in homes with backyards, courtyards or porches with an unobstructed view of the sky. Residents wishing to fulfill the mitzvah of sitting and eating meals in a sukkah usually need to visit a local synagogue. While some shul sukkahs are open to the public, they are only accessible at certain hours.

The Chabad sukkahs and a special pedi-sukkah (attached to the back of a tricycle)—parked at 92nd Street and Lexington Avenue when not being used around the neighborhood—make it easier for Upper East Side residents to observe the mitzvah. Insists Krasnianski: “We need to make sure that no Jew is left behind!”

A pedi-sukkah meets neighborhood needs. (Photo: Howard Blas)

Chabad’s public sukkahs are not limited to Manhattan’s Upper East Side, of course. Dozens of public sukkahs dot New York City and thousands more are erected globally—in every city, town and country in the world with a Chabad center, as well as in small, remote Jewish communities where Chabad rabbinical students, known as “Roving Rabbis,” travel for the holidays.

Shaking Lulav: ‘A Positive Jolt’

Local rabbis say they appreciate Chabad’s efforts to bring the holiday of Sukkot to residents and visitors in the city.

Rabbi Ben Skydell of Congregation Orach Chaim, at 1459 Lexington Ave., near two Chabad sukkahs in the parks, notes: “In a city where people often feel that they have no spiritual home, these sukkahs provide a place not only for the holiday’s mitzvot, but also a place to call home.”

Rabbi Elie Weinstock of Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun, at 125 E. 85th St., says “having sukkahs available is a nice, friendly touch in a busy and often anonymous city. The phrase, ‘Let all who are hungry come and eat’ isn’t just for Pesach!”

Add to that 30 yeshivah students who walk the streets of the Upper East Side during Sukkot, giving people the opportunity to fulfill the mitzvah of lulav and etrog. Krasnianski says the Chabad sukkahs in the park are also staffed to help with the mitzvahs of Sukkot and to teach about the holiday.

“For some people, this is the first time in their life holding the lulav and etrog, and sitting in the sukkah,” he says. “Waving the lulav gives a positive jolt—to stand tall and erect with Jewish pride.”

While now in the midst of the intermediate days of Sukkot, Upper East Side rabbis are also looking forward to the annual Simchat Torah celebration on Oct. 12, held jointly with Kehillat Jeshurun.

“Thousands come to the fair, filling the streets,” says Krasnianski. “We bring the joy of the holiday right out to the people!”

Chabad Public Sukkahs in Manhattan, 5779 (2018)

Here is a list of public Sukkahs in Manhattan sponsored by Chabad-Lubavitchduring Sukkot 5779 (2018):

Chabad of Upper East Side

East River Esplanade (enter at E. 84th St.)

John Jay Park (E. 77th St. all the way east)

Chabad Israel Center of the Upper East Side

Ruppert Park (corner of E. 91st St. and 2nd Ave.)

Samuel Seabury Playground (corner of E. 96th St. and Lexington Ave.)

Chabad of Lower East Side:

104 Delancey St. (between Essex St. and Ludlow St.)

Chabad of Washington Heights:

Chabad of Washington Heights, 50 Overlook Terrace (side entrance)

Chabad of Harlem

JCC Harlem, 318 W. 118th St.

Chabad of Battery Park City

Museum of Jewish Heritage, 36 Battery Pl. (behind)

Chabad of Midtown Manhattan

New York Public Library Porch (corner of 5th Ave. and W. 42nd St.

Chabad of F.I.T.

340 8th Ave. (between W. 27th St. and W. 28th St.)

Chabad of Tribeca / SOHO

Chabad of Tribeca / SOHO, 54 Reade St. (between Church St. and Broadway)

Chabad of Beekman Sutton

Chabad of Beekman Sutton, 336 E. 53rd St. (between 1st Ave. and 2nd Ave.)

The Chabad Loft

Union Square Park (sukkah is located in SW area of Park, next to fountain – open daily from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.)

Chabad at Columbia University

Chabad at Columbia University, 625 W. 113th St. (between Riverside Dr. and Broadway)

Chabad House Bowery (Serving NYU)

Chabad House Bowery, 353 Bowery (between E. 3rd St. and E. 4th St.)

Chabad of Hamilton Heights

Chabad of Hamilton Heights, 635 Riverside Dr. (corner of Riverside Dr. and W. 141st St.)

City College Quad (corner of W. 139th St. and Amsterdam Ave.)

3647 Broadway (between W. 150th St. and W. 151st St.)

The Chelsea Shul & Rohr Center for Jgrads

The Chelsea Shul & Rohr Center for Jgrads, 236 West 23rd Street (between 7th Ave. and 8th Ave.)

Chabad of Roosevelt Island

North of Firefighters Field, 405-425 Main St.

Chabad of the West Sixties

Chabad of the West Sixties, 310 West 75th Street (between Riverside Dr. and West End Ave.)

Chabad Center For Jewish Discovery

E. 20th St. between 1st. Ave. and 2nd. Ave.

Jewish Latin Center

South of E. 20th St. along East River

Chabad Young Professionals

Madison Square Park (at corner of E. 26th St. and 5th Ave.)

The sukkah in front of Chabad of the Upper East Side (Photo: Howard Blas)
The sukkah at the East River Esplanade at East 84th Street (Photo: Howard Blas)
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