Trending
The horrific attacks on Israel and Israelis by Hamas and Hezbollah that have continued over what should have been the joyous celebration of Simchat Torah -- where we renew our reading of, and commitment to, our sacred scriptures -- have left many of us stunned and bereft.
Across my Facebook feed, friends and colleagues have posted notices from other colleagues and friends whose loved ones have been killed or are still missing.
As I scanned the messages, I found one name -- the name of someone I do not know but whose family intersects with mine.
That's the way Jewish geography works. It's just one name. But one is enough.
Hannah Katsman wrote that her beloved son Hayim was murdered by terrorists in his home in Holit in the southwest of Israel, not far from Gaza.
Hayim was a scholar who specialized in Israeli-Palestinian relations and how religion and politics intersect.
In this, he followed the scholarly pursuits of his grandfather, Dr. Ben Zion Wacholder, of blessed memory. I was privileged to be among those who served as graduate assistants for Dr. Wacholder.
Most notably, he was singlehandedly responsible for the publishing of the Dead Sea Scrolls after they had been mostly hidden from view by a small group of scholars in Israel.
He was brilliant, generous, and giving of himself. He and his wife, Elizabeth, treated me with incredible kindness and supported my own scholarly work.
Wacholder was born in Ozarow, Poland. He was forced to flee the Nazis under a false identity that disguised the fact that he was Jewish.
We're told he worked in a Polish labor camp and hid in the forests until liberation.
He came to the U.S. via a circuitous route through Europe and then onto South America to New York and Southern California -- eventually settling in Cincinnati, where he was a beloved teacher for many decades.
What impressed me most was what he told us about his hometown: That his neighbors pooled their resources to send him away, knowing that they themselves would never survive.
He was, in fact, the only survivor of the town. But they wanted him to have a chance -- a chance his grandson never had.
I don't recall meeting his daughter Hannah nor his grandson.
But the bravery Ben Zion showed, and the kindness he bestowed, made me think that these were traits handed down l'dor va'dor -- from generation to generation in his family.
Hannah herself works at the Center for Women's Justice, fighting for the rights and dignity of women in Israel. She has kindly allowed us to read what others wrote about Hayim: That he was good and kind, funny and generous.
It is very brave of her to allow us to read the tributes others have written. And I am grateful to her for that gift.
As a concluding read at Passover asks, "Who Knows One?"
We answer: "One is our God in heaven and on earth."
I know one. Sadly, belatedly, perhaps through three degrees of separation.
But one is enough to know, to comprehend death.
Rabbi Audrey Korotkin has served Temple Beth Israel in Altoona for 13 years.