The Legend
Eulogy for Hersh Waisbord (Tzvi Chaim ben Yisroel Eliezer v'Frieda Rochel z'l)
This week, the Mekor community and the entire Jewish nation lost an extraordinary individual. Mr. Hersh Waisbord zt’l, a holocaust survivor and a beloved member of our Mekor community for close to 15 years, passed away on June 8, 2023. May his memory be a blessing. Instead of our usual post on the weekly parsha, I think it is fitting to summarize the eulogy I delivered at the funeral, so that even those outside of our community and those who could not attend the funeral can learn and be inspired by this remarkable person.
It is with great reverence that I stand here to deliver this eulogy for Hersh. I feel incredibly fortunate to have known him personally, and our community in Center City was blessed to have him as a regular member of our shul. Hersh was truly exceptional, and although no words could do him justice, I will try my best.
Whenever I preside over a significant life event, I often turn to the Jewish calendar for inspiration. Initially, I felt disappointed and surprised to find that this time of year is rather barren on the Jewish calendar. Historically, it's a difficult period for the Jewish people, marking the 40-day phase of decline that leads us to the 17th of Tammuz, a day that commemorates the worship of the Golden Calf at Mt. Sinai. The situation further deteriorates on the calendar with Tisha B'Av, a day that recalls the sin of the spies in the desert and the destruction of the Batei Mikdash, the Temples in Jerusalem.
However, upon deeper reflection, I realized that this timing is, in fact, quite fitting, as it mirrors Hersh's remarkable humility. He was always one to shy away from the spotlight, and I believe he would prefer his own eulogy not to be centered solely on himself. So instead, I will focus on the profound message he embodied, which also aligns with this challenging period on the Jewish calendar: We can rise above even the most devastating circumstances in our lives and forge something beautiful and enduring.
Hersh rarely discussed his harrowing experiences during the Holocaust, possibly because they were too traumatic to recount. The onset of WWII occurred when he was a child of 12. As a small boy with petite hands, the Nazis assigned him the task of loading their guns with ammunition, a job that inadvertently saved his life. He once recalled an incident where a boy made a mistake, and the Nazis executed the boy immediately. The other children, Hersh included, were then forced to resume their work as if nothing had transpired. Hersh's childhood in the camps was an incessant existence of terror and fear that resurfaced in recurring nightmares throughout his life, dreaming of being pursued by Nazis while enduring the hardships of the camps. He came to learn that his father and sister had been shot to death, and his mother and brother were also murdered, though he was unable to determine the exact dates of their deaths. As a result, he honored their yahrtzeits by sponsoring kiddush each year during Sukkot.
After the war, Hersh came to America as a young man of 18, with no English language skills, no money, and no formal education. He was housed in a foster home, but his dream was to rebuild what he’d lost during the war. He married his beloved Ingrid z’l when he was 21 and she was 18.
To keep the memory of his lost family alive, he named his children after those who had perished: Ivan, z’l, was named after his father, Yisrael Eliezer; Danny was named Daniel after Hersh’s brother; and Rhonda was named Rochel Freda after his mother, Freda Rochel. Later, his granddaughter, Brittany, was named after his sister Basya Mindel.
Hersh's wife, Ingrid, cherished him deeply and handled all the domestic affairs, including finances. They shared an extraordinary marriage that profoundly influenced their children and served as a shining example of what a true marital relationship should be. Driven by the knowledge that he needed to support his expanding family, Hersh worked tirelessly, clocking in 14, 15, even 16 hours a day. He was ready to take on any job available to earn a little extra income. At one point when he had just arrived in the US, he worked as an usher in a movie theater. However, despite their initial financial challenges, Ingrid and Hersh ensured that their children lacked nothing, and provided for both their material and spiritual well-being.
Hersh cherished his family above everything else and his spirit of selfless giving has been passed down to his children and grandchildren, reflected in the profound love they continue to express for one another.
Hersh was the undisputed patriarch of the family. His sons admired him so greatly that they yearned to work alongside him in business. However, Hersh, valuing the education he himself never had the chance to attain, persuaded them to pursue college degrees. Regardless, both sons eventually joined him in his business. For the last 36 years of his life, his daughter, Rhonda, also worked closely with him, cooking and caring for him in numerous ways. It's clear she inherited her father's humble nature, never seeking or expecting recognition. Yet, it's worth noting that the family attributes Hersh's long life filled with health and happiness to Rhonda's ceaseless efforts in looking after her father for the final decades of his life.
The hardships Hersh endured left a lasting impact. The losses he suffered haunted him, as he grappled with survivor's guilt, questioning why he lived while so many others did not. His sorrow did not cease even after his arrival in America. The loss of his beloved wife Ingrid cast a deep shadow over his life, and the passing of his son Ivan was almost too painful to bear. Hersh confided that the most challenging thing he ever had to do was bury his son. However, even then his family learned of the inherent resilience within Hersh, the same resilience that refused to allow the Nazis to extinguish his inner light.
Hersh’s remarkable selflessness and generosity of spirit extended beyond his family. He was described as “everyone’s Zaida” because he made everyone around him feel his warmth, and he tried to help everyone in need. That was Hersh’s way – he countered the evil in the world by expressing empathy, respect, and generosity, even toward strangers.
Despite enduring the horrors inflicted by the Nazis, Hersh made a conscious choice to counteract that darkness by spreading light. The Nazis spread propaganda about the Jews, but Hersh would never say a bad word about anyone, even about people who cheated him. He would say, ‘it’s ok, that person needed the money.’ The Nazis engaged in deceitful, sinister activities. But Hersh trusted people and saw the good and hoped for the best.
If Hersh ever heard a bigoted comment, he would interrupt and say, Please don’t speak that way; that’s how they talked about the Jews.
Hersh was profoundly thankful for every blessing in his life, even the most ordinary ones. Rather than harboring bitterness due to his past experiences, Hersh chose to appreciate everything he had. Regardless of what Rhonda served him for lunch at the store, he'd always said it was delicious. Rhonda humorously remarked that even if someone served him dog food, (provided it was kosher, of course!), he'd accept it graciously.
The horrors of war at a young age deprived him of a formal bar mitzvah, so Hersh celebrated this rite of passage at the age of 90 in our shul. His entire family gathered to share in this joyous occasion. Shortly thereafter, Hersh shared a touching reflection with me.
He mused that by building his beautiful family, which includes six grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren (and counting, kinahara), he had triumphed over the malicious intentions of the Nazis, who had sought to eradicate the Jewish people. Hersh had countered their hatred by nurturing a family filled with love. In his final days, his family remained by his side every night; his apartment was brimming with loved ones.
Hersh's life imparts a profound lesson to us: The way to combat evil is by rising above it. Despite the immense suffering and loss he endured during the Holocaust, Hersh responded not with bitterness, but with nurturing loving relationships. He countered the Nazis' hatred by cherishing his family and spreading kindness to all. His very existence became a living rebuttal to the hate he experienced, replacing it with compassion, love, and grace.
The Nazis had attempted to snuff out his inner light, but Hersh shone brightly with a charisma that drew people towards him. Individuals both within and outside his family frequently sought his blessings, such as during his visits to Israel. He would always bestow upon them the same blessing he gave his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren—the Birkat Kohanim from last week's parsha.
Rhonda shared with me that the people on Sansom Street, where Hersh worked, referred to him as a legend. And indeed, that's what he was throughout his life—a man whose sincerity, generosity, and gentle kindness made him a figure of legendary stature.
In shul, we eagerly anticipated the Shabbat mornings when Hersh was present because whenever Tzvi Chaim Ben Yisrael Elayzer received an Aliyah, we knew the Mishebeirach, the blessing one gives after being called up to the torah, was soon to follow. He would first bless his family, then me, the rabbi, then Bruce, our shul president, then baal koreh, and the entire shul. He would always conclude with the timeless phrase "v'es kol haYehudim!," praying for all Jews worldwide, a testament to his deep love for the Jewish people, Israel, and their well-being.
The most poignant moment in our shul year occured when Hersh recited the prayer for the victims of the Holocaust during the Yizkor service. His heartfelt words gave us all chills, and we wept with him as he recited the Kaddish for all those lost in the Holocaust. His presence and devotion deeply moved us, adding a profound layer of meaning and emotion to our communal prayers.
He shared with me on numerous occasions how much he enjoyed attending our shul, largely because he cherished being in the company of young people devoted to Judaism. In their devotion, he felt a sense of reassurance that our Jewish tradition would continue to thrive.
Hersh never forgot that the Nazis sought not only to annihilate the Jewish people but also to erase Judaism and obliterate our faith in God. In response, Hersh raised his family to be proud Jews, actively participating in Jewish life, both in the synagogue and at home. This was his ultimate victory against the Nazis.
He fought the evil, the hatred, the bigotry, and the genocide not with violence, but with love, trust, kindness, joy, and an unwavering commitment to his family, Judaism, and the entire Jewish people. This remarkable person whose life was an embodiment of resilience and generosity serves as an enduring inspiration to everyone who knew him.
May his memory continue to be a blessing to us all.