Tamar Adelstein spent the second day of the Crown Heights riots huddled in a bathroom with her five children as a mob pelted her home on President Street with bottles and shouted about shooting the occupants.
“We [later] turned off all lights in our home and said tehillim [psalms],” said Adelstein, one of the plaintiffs in the Crown Heights civil suit against New York City that was settled last week.
After a rabbinical career spanning quaint pre-war Hungarian mountain villages and a 21st century empire in New York with an estimated 50,000 chasidim and several hundred million dollars in assets, the Satmar Grand Rebbe, Moshe Teitelbaum, died this week in Mount Sinai Hospital after suffering from spinal cancer and other ailments. He was 91.
During Yankel Rosenbaum’s six months in New York, the fax machine at his parents’ home in Melbourne would grind out a daily letter detailing his exploits. If the Australian scholar, who was doing research here on the Holocaust, missed a letter because of Shabbat or a late cricket game, there would be two letters the following day.
Brooklyn Bridge gunman Rashid Baz refused to testify in a civil trial against two Tennessee gun dealers, leaving unanswered questions about where and how he obtained a weapon used in a deadly 1994 attack on a van full of chasidic students.
Baz, serving a 141-year sentence for the murder of student Ari Halberstam and the wounding of three others, appeared in Brooklyn Federal Court last Friday. He was subpoenaed by defense attorneys in the civil suit, which charges that the defendants are liable for the attack because they market parts that form a gun favored by criminals.
Robert Lederman doesn’t stand out in a crowd. But his artwork does. During months of protest over the police shooting of Amadou Diallo, Lederman’s caricatures depicting Mayor Rudolph Giuliani as Adolf Hitler received far more notoriety than the affable, middle-aged Jewish artist and street peddler from Brooklyn who created them. The signs, which Lederman distributed to the protestors, were panned by Jewish leaders. Some say they harmed efforts to address police brutality by distracting from the issue.
At night on the darkest of indigo seas, a sea captain looks up at vast constellations in the sky above and contemplates the deep below. Like the biblical mariners Zevulon and Jonah, sailor Daniel Jacksonís awe of oceans and the outdoors led him to the more intimate exploration of the soul within. He went from steering 100-ton vessels to take a journey into academia and then to yeshiva study halls to bring himself up to speed on an Orthodoxy he never quite knew.Capt.
Claiming that recent incidents of anti-Semitism within the Police Department have been “swept under the carpet,” the organization representing Jewish police officers is promising to take a more aggressive stand in rooting out bias.
“This has gone unnoticed for too long,” says officer Stuart Portner, president of the 2,800-member Shomrim Society. “We think that more attention needs to be paid to anti-Semitic [acts].”
An attorney for two Tennessee gun makers on trial for liability in the 1994 Brooklyn Bridge shootings began his defense last week by trying to link the chasidic victims of the crime to Hebron murderer Baruch Goldstein.
At the opening of a $39 million federal lawsuit Friday against Wayne and Sylvia Daniel, who manufactured the parts for a gun used in the shootings, the defense questioned survivors of the attack about Goldstein, whom he referred to repeatedly as “Rabbi Goldstein.”