My Zaidy
This past Friday afternoon at 4 I got a phone call from my brother. He gently broke the news: our grandfather, our beloved Zaidy, had passed away.
Zaidy had been declining for some time, but still had spurts of energy and lucidity. Although he was in ICU for over a week at that point, I naively believed - or wanted to - that he would, could still get well. But the blood infection his body was fighting finally overtook his 86-year-old kidneys and heart, and, two scant hours before Shabbos, his soul departed.
Zaidy was born in 1929 in Bronx, NY to immigrant parents, Rabbi Yehudah Tzvi and Esther Hinda Heimowitz, the third child of four - and the only boy. They lived on Teller Ave. He attended the Salanter Yeshiva, a Jewish day school, and after bar mitzvah went to the RJJ yeshiva in Manhattan on Henry Street.
His bar mitzvah was a schnapps-and-cake affair in the middle of the week, but he did read from the Torah at services on Shabbos - an endeavor that would herald a lifetime of cantorial service. His rich and harmonious voice was trained by his brother-in-law, a professional cantor, and all of us children remember his beautiful singing. When we slept over at their home, we’d awaken to the beautiful sound of him preparing the Torah portion. That became so imprinted in our minds that much later when I married, I suggested to my husband that he study Torah at home in the mornings instead of at synagogue, so our children, too, could awaken to the sweet sound of Torah study.
My grandfather met my grandmother via a Chassidic rabbi who knew both of their fathers from Europe. They married in 1947 in the Gold Manor hall in Brooklyn. He was 18, and she was a 17-year-old immigrant survivor of Auschwitz with numbers on her arm. The young couple moved in with my great-grandparents; they lived with them until my great-grandparents passed away! In fact, later they moved to Barnes Avenue in Pelham Parkway, and my grandparents lived in the main apartment, while my great-grandparents lived upstairs. We used to call my great-grandparents “Zaidy and Bobby Up” - since they lived upstairs!
Zaidy’s father had a kosher butcher shop. It was a way to make an honest living without having to violate Shabbos, and to make sure kosher food was ensured - a double win for religious Jewish immigrants in NY at the time. After Zaidy’s marriage, he worked in the butcher shop. At first Zaidy studied his Talmudic studies three days a week, and three days a week worked in the butcher shop. He did that for two years and then worked full-time in the butcher shop as his family grew.
Zaidy fell and hurt his back in 1957, and the doctor told him that if he ever wanted to salvage his back, he couldn’t do the heavy lifting and going in and out of the refrigerator all the time. So, Zaidy decided to go to college and make a career switch.
He already had rabbinical ordination by then, and Yeshiva University, a Jewish college, awarded him a post-facto bachelor’s in religious education at the age of 28. From there he went to graduate school at Columbia for a master’s in education, then went halfway for his doctorate before deciding he didn’t really need it.
His first job was at PS 43 in South Bronx. Starting salary was $4800 a year. They offered him a job teaching what we call today special ed, for $200 more a year. He remained a public school teacher and eventually administrator for another thirty years - from the early sixties till he retired and moved to Monsey, NY in 1991, where he became a principal and preschool administrator in the Chassidic school system until the year of his passing.
The various strands of Zaidy’s life - his cantorial positions, work in the family butcher shop, public school experience, rabbinical background, incredible parents and mentors, and completely unspoiled life - all conspired to produce a man who simply exuded greatness. His character and integrity were unparalleled. All of us grandchildren remember a man whose joy and positivity filled the room; whose beautiful voice sang little songs to our babies; who was our mentor, advisor, and confidant; and who was a link to the previous world of Europe and to our Chassidic roots.
Family was everything. He and my grandmother traveled around the world for every family event: to Israel, for our son’s bris, to Buffalo Grove, Illinois, for our son’s first haircut (of course Zaidy was also the family barber), and to every preschool performace - traveling in their elderly years from Rockland County to Brooklyn and Queens. If there was an occasion, they were there, large or small. Zaidy always had a Torah insight to share, a funny story, a song. He was straight as an arrow and never sought to benefit from others. He would always walk away from an argument, even when he was right. He just never felt it was worth stirring the pot and creating discord.
He was so memorable that at one point my cousin was visiting the Holocaust Museum in Manhattan, and when they approached the cashier to pay, she looked up and said, “Mr. Heimowitz??” Turns out Zaidy was her teacher in public school 20 years prior! She was so happy to see him again, she refused to charge them entry to the museum.
He lived a long and happy life, and was married to my grandmother for 68 years. He treated her like a queen. He taught us so much by example. I feel honored and blessed to be his granddaughter. My the soul of Shalom ben Yehudah Tzvi be elevated and may his memory be blessed.
Shabbat shalom!
Ruchi Koval
