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March 28th, 2024

Humanity

Beyond belief --- action

E. Lieman

By E. Lieman

Published Sept. 15, 2017

Beyond belief --- action
After tearing through the Caribbean, leaving more than 20 people dead in its wake and ravaging resort islands, Hurricane Irma roared across the Florida Keys.

As it drove northward into Miami and toward central Florida, it downed cranes, flooded streets, and led to large-scale power outages that affected millions.

While downgraded from category 5 to category 4, Irma was still forecast to be the most powerful hurricane ever recorded, spurring one of the biggest evacuations ever --- about 6.3 million people in Florida, more than a quarter of the state's population. Florida governor Rick Scott warned residents to flee the "life-threatening storm" with the urgent plea, "You've got to get out."

As the nearest Orthodox center, and known for its warm, Southern-style hachnassas orchim (hospitality), Atlanta was the destination for more than 1,500 South Florida Jews who tumbled into the city on Sabbath eve, seeking a safe haven over Shabbos after spending more than 20 hours on the road (double the usual travel time).

Atlanta community members, some of whom had just previously been busy hosting Harvey victims, welcomed the harried, anxious, and exhausted refugees, reassuring them and tending to all their needs.

"This has been a life-changing experience," Jodi Wittenberg, a volunteer who worked almost round the clock on behalf of the displaced Floridians, told Mishpacha magazine. The co-owner of a kosher supermarket in Atlanta, she arranged meals for many of the families.

Communal meals were served before the Sabbath, on the holy day itself, and into the beginning of this week at Congregation Beth Jacob, Atlanta's largest shul.

Young Israel of Toco Hills, another, though significantly smaller, faith community also provided hospitality, as did others.

The Atlanta Jewish community galvanized for action as soon as word got out that Miami was ordered to evacuate, and that more than a thousand would need places to stay over Shabbos.

Within hours a grassroots campaign was launched, and the evacuees were placed at the homes of local hosts.

In addition, Rabbi Yitz Tendler, executive director of Beth Jacob, told Mishpacha, there were hundreds of others who made their own sleeping arrangements "the old-fashioned way, through their cousin's cousin's cousin who knows someone."

"We used Google Forms to streamline the process," Rabbi Tendler explained. "Because there was so much data to sift through, we had volunteers looking through the forms and making the matches."

WhatsApp groups were created to network between volunteers, community members, and guests. One group, called "The Miami-Atlanta Shabbaton [Sabbath celebration]" was designated for people still in transit, with information on where to stop for food, traffic reports, and other relevant items, Wittenberg said.

Communal meals held at Beth Jacob were a moving experience for everyone. "The scope of the operation was mind-boggling," Wittenberg said.

Some 350 people joined for the Friday night meal, 400 came for Shabbos lunch, and Shalosh Seudos (late afternoon) had about 500. (The rest of the Beth Jacob guests ate the Shabbos meals at their hosts.)

Post-Sabbath, two local caterers served pizza and mac-and-cheese at a kumzitz (informal, soulful musical gathering) that attracted about 600 people.

"The achdus [sense of unity] was unprecedented," volunteer Rabbi Yaakov Haller says. "Different groups that usually have minimal interaction were sitting together at the meals, schmoozing, singing together, sharing divrei Torah[inspirational teachings]. I don't think anyone who was involved -- whether as a host, as a guest, as a volunteer or even as someone on the sidelines -- will ever forget this."

A large part of the expenses for the shabbaton were covered by the Orthodox Union, and the rest of the money was donated by individuals, who were inspired by the selfless giving they were witnessing.

REACH OUT AND TOUCH SOMEONE

Rabbi Yaakov Haller, who dedicated endless hours to the accommodation efforts, noticed a family with young children pull up at Beth Jacob for a pit stop.

"I looked at the parents. The mother was close to tears and the father looked spent, after driving for 22 hours straight. I looked at him, and said, 'I just want to give you a hug.' After we exchanged a hug, I returned to other pressing tasks I was in the middle of."

Rabbi Tendler picks up the thread of the story. "Soon afterward I saw this man, who is Israeli and without a yarmulke, come into the shul and look around. When I approached him, he said he was on his way to a hotel in Marietta, where he'd booked a room. I understood from him that they weren't Sabbath observant in any meaningful sense, and were not interested in being in an Orthodox community. I told him to just give us one chance, that we'd find him a Shabbos host he'd be comfortable with."

Rabbi Tendler called a community member, a "traditional Israeli guy", and the family ended up skipping their hotel reservation and staying in his home over Shabbos.

Rabbi Haller was shocked to bump into this man on Sabbath morning. "At the kiddush [post-prayers social], I suddenly heard someone shouting, 'That's the guy! That's the guy!' I turned around, and there he was!"

A moment of heartfelt concern and empathy had left its mark. "You have no idea what that hug meant to me," the Israeli then said, adding that it was what convinced him to stay over Shabbos.


JOY AMID SORROW

In some instances, the community was called upon to arrange more than just Shabbos meals.

One couple that had just arrived from Florida had another trip to make --- to the delivery room of the local hospital.

"We knew they were coming, that she was expecting a baby any day, and we had a physician and obstetrician on standby. They had a baby boy, and the bris will be next Friday," Jodi Wittenberg relates.

Another Florida family greeted their new baby in Atlanta, and there are about 15 other expectant mothers who may need medical attention in Atlanta, as well, Wittenberg said.

One family, whose son's bar mitzvah was scheduled to take place in his Florida hometown, ended up celebrating with their new friends in Atlanta.

Rabbi Becker, a rabbi from Miami who had not known the family before this Shabbos, spoke at the celebration.

The numerous volunteers and hosts affirmed they will be available as long as they are needed. While keeping a watchful eye on the weather, they'll continue serving up their unique brand of kosher Southern hospitality. More than anything, they're grateful to be on the giving end.

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