One Mitzvah Leads To Another

The traditional blessing for one who engages in a mitzvah is to wish them the merit to perform additional mitzvos. Here is a story of how such a blessing was earned and fulfilled.

Some background: Just as Judaism prescribes that a marriage may only be established under the strictures of Jewish law; likewise, a marriage can only be curtailed via a divorce document (get) [other than death] arranged by a knowledgeable rabbinic authority and beheld by two kosher witnesses.

Because of the calamitous consequences that can result from a couple that is divorced civilly, but lack a proper get, m’sadrei gittin (the rabbis who arrange a get) go to great lengths (occasionally even heroics) to fulfill their mission. The name that immediately comes to mind is that of Rav Nota Greenblatt, zt”l, from Memphis who was oblivious to comfort (even in his extreme old age) in his quest to ensure that halacha was upheld. Accolades to Rabbi Avi Lebowitz his disciple in this realm, who is proving to being Rav Nota’s worthy (albeit inimitable) successor.

Our story takes place in Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan in 2014. What?! You never heard of Sault Ste. Marie? The very town of legendary native American fur trapper Ozhaguscodaywayquay. If you never heard of her, that’s probably because there are alternate spellings for her name: Oshawguscodaywayqua, Oshawuscodawa, Oshauguscodawaqua, and Oshawguscodywayquay. Later, mildly contracted to Susan.

In this one zip code town in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula lived a gentleman who was amenable to issuing his wife a proper halachic divorce, but he was not agreeable to make the half-day journey to Milwaukee for this purpose. Perhaps the reader will begin to appreciate the onerous travel burden m’sadrei gittin must endure.

Rabb Mendel Senderovic, who would officiate at the divorce, had an idea. He turned to Alex Goldman who owns a time share in a circa 1976 Cessna one propeller plane. The journey by air was only one-and-a-half hours each way. Alex, a third-generation pilot, was happy to fly for a mitzvah.

He cautioned Rabbi Senderovic that the weather forecast toward the end of the apportioned day was iffy for a small plane, and accordingly Rabbis Senderovic, Dovid Begoun (who would serve as a witness (in case there weren’t any kosher witnesses readily available to be snagged in Sault Ste Marie)) and Alex, who would serve as the second witness, took off bright and early. This would have to be a “get-and-run” for the weather – which Alex was constantly monitoring – would turn toward evening. Seeing the sights of Sault Ste Marie would have to wait for a different trip.

Alex touched the plane down on the one and only landing strip, and the soon-to-be-no-longer married man was waiting for them. There was no mistaking who he was for this was a no-frills airport: sans tower, ground control even a refueling pump. Thank G-d, Alex-The-Boy-Scout-Goldman, had tanked up with enough fuel to enable a return flight.

The four of them relocated to the pilot’s hut and Rabbi Senderovic got right to work. Meanwhile, the Sault Ste Marie airport was having a busy day. A modern Beachcraft Baron 58 twin engine just landed and was taxiing toward the hut as it sneered past the single-engine Cessna 172. The plane came to a halt and a man and a woman alighted.

Rabbi Begoun could barely believe his eyes as he saw emblazoned on the woman’s sweatshirt “Michigan” in Hebrew letters. The couple was even more astonished at the sight of the three distinctly religious-looking men congregated on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. If ever there was an opportunity to “bagel” this would have been it, and the gentleman said the only Jewish word he could think of, “Good yuntif.”

“Ehh, what are you guys doing up here?” Mr. Beachcraft Baron questioned, unable to conceal his incredulity.

“We are here to perform a ritual divorce.”

“Hey, I just got divorced.”

“Were you and your wife,” questioned Rabbi Senderovic looking up, “both Jewish?”

“Yep.”

“Did you give her one of these?” the Rabbi queried, pointing to the document.

“Nope.”

This time, without looking up, Rabbi Senderovic commented, “Sit down, your next!”

The return flight was delayed and from what Alex could tell they were going to have to divert from Timmerman Field Airport as a dense fog was rolling in over Lake Michigan. Alex did not wish to do an instrument approach and kept communicating with ground control who assured that the airport was still clear. That sure wasn’t what Alex was seeing.

Night fell across the sky like a curtain, and for the encore dark clouds blew everywhere, snuffing out the stars dozens at a time. A storm had coalesced, jagging the sky with bad electricity. And yet, the tower kept reporting that the clear weather was still holding. The plane’s tank was on empty, and if Alex was going to divert, there was precious little time to implement an alternate plan.

Pilot Goldman dropped down and saw the threshold lights and chevrons directly ahead. The runway was remarkably dry despite howling winds and crashing thunder. The second they touched down, raindrops the size of small squids splat against the windscreen, followed by blinding rain. It was terra firma for the mitzvah performers, who completed their mission – two for the price of one.