Bringing Light to Rikers Island Prison

By Zalman Tevel

Imagine if you had the power in your hands to take a yid out of jail for 3 hours. Imagine if you had the power in your hands to release the worries and sorrows of another yid for 3 hours. Just imagine it. If you had this chance right now, what would you do?

These are the thoughts running through my head, as a passenger on the bus driving down Eastern Parkway. Thank you to Rabbi Kastel and Lubavitch Youth Organization for giving me the zchus of this unique and powerful shlichus.

Our bus was packed. We had a large group of people in the front, and in the back we had food, donuts, Chanukah decorations, musical instruments and more. Just then, the bus took a jolly roll over the speed bump, and all the music equipment bumped hard. I headed to the back, to make sure everything was okay, when I got stuck in a conversation with the people right behind me. One fellow said, “One of the miracles that Chanukah displays, is how the nation’s that previously rose to power, are now history, and yet we are here, going strong, even though we are the Menorah-ty.” I wasn’t sure if it was the accent, or he realized what he said, so I added, “that might explain why we have so many challah-days.” He gave me a confused look, so I just continued to the back so he wouldn’t feel so gelty.

Being surrounded by different types of yidden, creates a fun and inspiring environment. There were Lubavitcher bochurim, yungerleit, Chasseidishers, Litfvsh, some younger, and older. It’s beautiful when a Hakhel is created, of frum Yidden from diverse backgrounds, uniting for the same, special cause. I began to feel excited and pumped to head into that facility on Rikers Island. Truth is, I’ve never been to Rikers before, and not sure what to expect.

Getting into a jail facility is not so simple. There are a number of checkpoints, with specific instructions, and different officers to pass along the way. With every checkpoint, and stop we had to make, we distributed jelly and custard donuts to the officers we encountered. Once we brought smiles and warmth to these officers, which only donuts on Chanukah can do, we finally got off the bus, and made our way in.

We rolled our carts down one corridor and then the next. I began to feel cold, and a chill ran down my spine. It wasn’t so fun and exciting anymore. The hallways were dim. The sounds bounce off the walls. Thick, metal gates, that only slide open, one at a time, with the ‘okay’ from an officer. And the mood is just dead. With the care-free mood left at the front door of the facility, I gathered all the light of Chanukah within me, to give these neshamos all I’ve got, and take them out of here for the next few hours.

We turned the next corner, and stormed into this large room, singing Lehodos u’Lahlel. There were about 85 inmates in the room, with just about an equal ratio of officers and staff personnel. We wasted no time in setting up shop, changing the mood, and creating a new reality for right now. These Yidden were ecstatic to see us. We gave them hugs, infusing them with love and human importance.

Together, we began the evening with Maariv. It’s been a while since I saw yidden davening with such intense focus and deep concentration. The magic has been done. The yidden are no longer confined or limited to this place called jail. With only the beginning of the program complete, the yidden have become consumed into a real Chanukah experience.

One of the Chabad rabbis began to explain the meaning of Chanukah, and just how far this light can travel. A little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness. We each went around the room, conversing with yidden there, instilling within them the light and warmth which only Chanukah can accomplish.

Next, 2 yidden were called up to light the large Menorah at the front of the room. As they completed the brachos with all their might, the room responded with a booming and lively ‘Amen!’ Together we stood, arms on each other’s shoulders, as we sang Haneiros Halalu and Maoz Tzur. While I was singing, what came to mind was the story of the Ba’al Shem Tov. When he had his Chassidim put their arms around each other, and they saw one friend ripping the other like a fish. Here however, I thought of it in the positive. The achdus, the hakhel, the togetherness, the memories and the music, all combined into one. The warmth can be felt in the bones, and the energy to last way beyond these few hours here.

Without too much fanfare, a table was set up in the corner, with small menorahs. Each volunteer brought another yid over, one at a time, so they can do the mitzvah of lighting menorah on the third night. Speaking of light, this wasn’t just in the metaphorical. This corner of the room was lit up and bright. Their smiling faces beaming, as memories flashed before their eyes. Where were they last Chanukah? Of course I didn’t ask, but I stood next to them, with hope and anticipation that this time, next year, they will be lighting with their families.

Thank you Avigdor Zeitlin and his Orchestra who brought us to the dance floor. Well, actually, there weren’t any feet on the floor itself. Feet kicking, and arms swinging in the air. That shifted into circles going round and round. From one fast niggun to the next. The joy grew by leaps and bounds. Literally. If there was anyone that hadn’t yet removed their extra layers, to help fight the cold, all winter layers now removed. The room – warm. The vibe – exuberant. The dancing – high. The joy – above all. It wasn’t just the yidden who were uplifted and happy. The officers got schlepped into the dancing as well!

Tired and charged from dancing, everyone sat down to a festive Chanukah dinner. Latkes, chicken, rice, drinks and of course donuts. I went around offering donuts to all the officers. I said, “It ain’t Chanukah, if you don’t have a donut every day.” I sat down, farbrenged and shmoozed with the yidden at my table. One yid told me, “I’ve been thinking about these donuts all day! And when I thought about the filling inside, my eyes filled with tears.” During dinner, there was an entertaining magic show including bunnies, juggling, fire, and more. Until now, the yidden were happy and joyous. But laughing is a whole new level!

At this time, I walked across the room to get something, and an officer, who happened to be Jewish, came over to me, pointing to the large Rebbe picture that we brought, and asked me, “Remind me when the Rebbi passed.” He remembered 3 Tammuz. I explained that the Rebbe is as accessible as before, and that he can visit and pray at the Ohel. I gave him the Ohel’s address, and he then proceeded to finish munching on his donut.

Time was ticking, and as tradition has it, we sing Ani Ma’amin and say Shema before heading out. The music band played its last song, as we once again put our arms around each other’s shoulders. I looked around the circle, and watched as people closed their eyes, filling themselves up with strength, inspiration, and hope.

We began to pack up and the yidden there headed to their barracks. As I put in a hand to clean up, I thought to myself, ‘Imagine if I had the power to bring a yid out of jail for 3 hours….’ And for the second time this visit, another chill went down my spine. This is exactly what just transpired. Did we physically take these yidden out of the building? No. But the bare white walls, ceased to exist. The officers blurred into the background. Their troubles slipped their mind. The cold room had become warm. Frowns turned to smiles. Sorrow to joy. Loud silence, to calming embrace. Happy tunes filling the air, as the stale feel evaporated.

We loaded the bus, and headed out. I noticed for the second time, that to the entrance of Rikers Island, there’s this beautiful, twelve foot Menorah, shining in the dark, clear for all to see. Thank you to Rabbi Yerachmiel and Leah Jacobson, for donating a menorah that brings light and hope to every visitor upon entering the island. What a truly humbling experience! Thank you to Rabbi Zalman Tevel for investing so much and organizing this mivtzah. Thank you to the chaplains of Rikers Island, Rabbi Hecht, Rabbi Kresmersid, and Rabbi Mia, for all they do, ensuring that the Jews on Rikers have their needs met.

We look forward, and hope that this visit is the last one to Rikers Island, with the coming of Moshiach!

To donate to this program or other Jewish programs at Riker’s island.
Please Zell or qwick pay to 9178036524