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IN-DEPTH FEATURES
Part I
At Rabbi Bulman's passing on 26 Tammuz (July 6, 2002),
thousands of people were thrown into shock and grief. The
mourners were drawn from every echelon of Jewish society.
What had attracted everyone to Rav Bulman was his rare
combination of mind, heart, talent, and perception. Rav
Bulman was a man of all seasons, a man for any situation. He
was a person in whom one could confide and whose advice one
could rely on; a person who could launch into a deep
exposition of any historical or philosophical issue; a person
who realized you were in the grips of despair before you did;
a person who had the answers to intellectual conundrums; a
person who knew how to put you gently in your place; a person
who was forever busy but always accessible.
When there was no one else to turn to, there was always Rabbi
Bulman.
Early Years
Reb Meir and Ettel Bulman were Gerrer chassidim who
had moved to the Lower East Side from Poland. Reb Meir had
lost his first wife in childbirth and his second wife in a
pogrom. He had also lost two children. Now in their 40s, the
Bulmans beseeched the Imrei Emes of Ger for a brochoh
for children. The result of that blessing was Nachman,
who was born in New York on January 18, 1925.
Reb Meir was a learned, faithful Jew. He was one of the
founders of the famous Lower East Side "Polishe shul"
which for years he helped run. He celebrated a siyum
on Shulchan Oruch Orach Chaim with the Mogen
Avrohom every year, and taught a regular mishnayos
class.
Young Nachman grew up in a home and society which radiated an
intense, European-style Polish-Jewish atmosphere. Only at the
age of six, when he began to attend public school, did he
learn his first words of English.
The daily route to yeshiva took him past threatening
hoodlums. As soon as his father could find an older boy to
walk his son to school for protection, he transferred the boy
out of public school and enrolled him in the Rabbi Jacob
Joseph school. The public school teacher warned Reb Meir
that, if he learned in a yeshiva, his son would never learn
English. How ironic this threat proved to be, in light of the
thousands of people who were inspired over the years by Rav
Bulman's eloquence!
It was soon apparent that the Bulmans had been blessed with
an unusually gifted son. Young Nachman was a voracious reader
with a particular interest in history and philosophy. In a
way, he never was a child; he had little interest in games or
sports. His phenomenal mind retained everything he read. As a
child he could recite the names of all the kings and queens
of the major European dynasties, for example. Even his
classmates looked up to him as something of a prodigy, more
leader than peer.
For high school, Reb Nachman attended Yeshivas Rabbenu
Yitzchok Elchonon and then studied in its rabbinical program.
He received semichoh and a B.A. (in philosophy) from
Yeshiva College.
Although he grew up in New York, the people who most
influenced his life had their roots in prewar Jewish Europe.
In yeshiva he was inspired with a love of Torah learning by
Rav Polayeff, a great talmid chochom who had escaped
from Europe. Other rebbeim with whom he studied Torah
included HaRav Moshe Bick, the famous posek, and HaRav
Dovid Lipschitz.
During the week, Reb Nachman learned Torah in the Litvishe
yeshiva way. On Shabbos and Yom Tov he absorbed the
atmosphere of his parents' Polishe shteibel, a place
that resonated with love of Torah and chassidus. For
years, he was also a frequent visitor at the tishin of
the Modzitzer Rebbe, HaRav Shaul Yedidya Taub.
Rav Taub was a well-known chassidic leader. It is said
that his appearance was like that of a mal'ach Elokim.
The Modzitzer Rebbe was also known for his beautiful musical
compositions and his rapturous singing. He was able to carry
a crowd of thousands with his voice, filling them with
feelings of deveikus. Reb Nachman, who had also been
blessed with powerful musical talents, was profoundly moved
by the Rebbe's niggunim. Later he inspired thousands
of his own talmidim with his haunting renditions of
the melodies of Modzitz.
By the time he was a teenager, young Nachman was a powerful,
confident leader. He was highly esteemed for his impressive
scholastic abilities; his language skills and delivery were
exceptional; and his pleasant singing voice made him an
outstanding baal tefillah. At the age of 14 he was
already giving shiurim on Kuzari to his
friends. His intellectual accomplishments were enhanced by an
exceedingly soft heart and concern for his fellow Jew.
Even at a young age, his intellect, his eloquence and his
compassion all came together. These went along with some
daring and even impudence when it came to fighting for the
underdog.
Once, for example, he saw a younger boy waiting on line in
the school cafeteria for his lunch. The piece of meat the
cook slopped on the boy's plate was pathetically small, but
when the youngster dared to ask for more, he was rudely
rebuffed. Outraged, Reb Nachman grabbed the skimpy piece of
meat, stood up on a chair and brandished the offending object
for all to see. Then he launched into his oration: "THIS they
call a piece of meat?! This is supposed to sustain a student
of this esteemed institution for an entire day?! For
shame!"
It was one of the most memorable speeches ever given in those
august halls. (And the poor hungry boy whose cause he had
championed was allowed more food.)
When Reb Nachman was 17, one of his professors ridiculed the
idea of the resurrection of the dead. The young Nachman put
all his considerable debating skills to use in disputing the
professor's case. The professor grew increasingly frustrated
as he realized he was losing the argument, even though he was
certain he was right. Recounting this early escapade, Rav
Bulman used to laugh when he recalled how the professor had
become so vexed that he called out, "Hair will grow on the
palm of my hand before there will be a resurrection of the
dead!"
The young Nachman had unhesitatingly retorted, "That's not a
rational argument!"
Unusual Study Program
Reb Nachman's immersion in his studies was total. During the
years leading up to his marriage, he studied the major
classics of world philosophy. He was well- read in world
literature and had a general knowledge of the sciences. He
also picked up a working knowledge of German and French.
In Jewish subjects Rav Bulman's knowledge was encyclopedic.
He could read a book or a newspaper in English, Hebrew or
Yiddish with amazing rapidity. He knew the major Jewish
philosophic classics, like Kuzari and Nefesh
HaChaim. He was a master of every period of Jewish
history. He studied all the chassidic classics and was
particularly attached to the writings of the Sfas
Emes.
But undoubtedly the writer who had the greatest impact on his
worldview was HaRav Shamshon Raphael Hirsch, whose
Nineteen Letters he had chanced upon as a teenager,
and whose Torah philosophy illuminated Rav Bulman's path
throughout his life.
Many of the attitudes and principles he upheld in the
rabbinate came straight from Rav Hirsch's weltanschauung.
Foremost among these was the idea of an independent
kehilla: he had a vision of a community formed of both
Zevuluns and Yissochors, all serving G-d with mutual love and
respect.
From Hirsch he learned to insist on the total separation and
independence of Orthodoxy from inauthentic Jewish groups,
while working to attract irreligious Jews back to Torah with
warmth and eloquence. Hirsch taught him the importance of
da ma shetoshiv, "knowing what to answer" those whose
views were not in accord with Torah. His standards of
honesty, integrity, and truth, his idealism and his deference
to all gedolei Torah, were strengthened by the
Hirschian model that inspired him.
Rav Bulman loved seforim stores. Over the years, he
accumulated a massive library of Judaica -- all of which he
had avidly read. He was a meticulous librarian who
systematically shelved all his books and knew exactly where
each sefer was.
Early Speaking
Because of his exceptional abilities, Reb Nachman was tapped
at an early age to speak at many yeshiva affairs where
normally only the yeshiva rabbonim would be expected to
speak. A contemporary of his recalls him as a "very religious
and idealistic young man who stood out. He was a very
inspired individual who was drawn to chassidic sources. He
was a powerful speaker and very influential."
His voice was resonant and powerful. He never needed a
microphone; his voice could project to an entire hall.
Equally notable was his singing. He had a very beautiful
tenor voice. When he led the prayers, the worshipers were
often moved to tears.
Aware of his son's unusual talents and love for learning, Reb
Meir Bulman pushed his son in the direction of the
rabbinate.
Marriage and the Rabbinate
In 1950, the young Reb Nachman married Shaindel Freund. She
was also from a warm, Polishe home. Very few Jewish girls at
the time had the aspirations she did: she longed to marry a
yeshiva bochur.
Rabbi Bulman's wife was to prove her exceptional resilience
and devotion to the same ideals during the 52 years they
spent together. She valiantly weathered the unending stream
of visitors and students, the constraints on her husband's
time, the many changes in location and her husband's frequent
absences to give lectures all over the world.
In those days, a sincere, inspired yeshiva student suffered
trials which are almost unimaginable today. Among Rav
Nachman's contemporaries, many a young man completed his
yeshiva studies and then assumed a position in a nominally
Orthodox synagogue which did not have a mechitzah
between men and women. Rav Nachman's convictions made this
unthinkable.
Finally, he found a position in the town of Danville,
Virginia, a small Orthodox community which consisted of about
30 families. Most of the families were not even religious,
although they tentatively wanted to keep the shul
Orthodox.
Life in Danville
On the eve of his first Rosh Hashanah with the community, Rav
Bulman learned to his dismay that the women did not sit
upstairs in the balcony on the holiday, but downstairs near
the men. He instructed the gabbai to erect a
mechitza, but arrived on Yom Tov to find that the man
had done nothing more than hang up a sheet as a partition. It
was kosher, but it looked awful.
Even worse were the looks in the eyes of the congregants. He
could well imagine what was being said behind their prayer
books. At home that night, he lamented, "I'll tell them what
I have to say tomorrow -- but after that, I guess I'll have
to leave and try my hand in business."
He had prepared a great droshoh for the next morning.
But then he stood up. "Neither you nor I are ready for what I
was planning to speak about."
Instead, he began to speak from the heart about the
importance of adhering to halacha. At the end of the
speech, there was a hush. After davening was over, the
congregants approached him with bowed heads, and wished him a
"Good Yom Tov." Not a word was ever again mentioned about the
mechitza.
Throughout the years, Rabbi Bulman suffered non-stop from
stubborn synagogue board heads, being voted out and talked
down by disgruntled congregants. Yet with his great wisdom,
he eventually won most of them over.
Danville had its own in-house apikores, a self-
proclaimed heretic who actually did have a PhD in philosophy.
Although he felt it was beneath him to show up in shul
to pray, the man liked to show up at the Sunday morning
shul breakfast so he could spar with Rabbi Bulman on
issues of Jewish philosophy. The other congregants were very
proud that this PhD scholar could never best Rabbi Bulman.
The doctor in philosophy suffered from ambivalent stirrings
that were common to other formerly religious Jews who had
fallen under the spell of secular western values. He would
come to shul for Ne'ila and ostentatiously read
a newspaper; then, behind the paper, tears would flow down
his face. Before leaving, he would give a sigh and tell Rabbi
Bulman, "That old-fashioned davening is so tear-
jerking. I believe they have something similar to this by the
goyim."
Still, Rav Bulman obviously found a way to his heart despite
his intellectual leanings. Years later when the Bulmans left
for Israel, the man bought Rav Bulman a sefer as a
good- bye present.
During the three years that he served as rabbi of the
community, Rabbi Bulman turned it around. Despite his huge
intellect, he himself taught the young children in the
shul. A number of Danville families became fully Torah
observant and, due to his influence, many of their children
went on to study in yeshivos and became bnei Torah.
When the community eventually closed its doors two decades
ago, the remaining congregants preferred to raze the
shul building rather than sell it to a church. They
donated their sefer Torah to the community then headed
by Rabbi Bulman in Migdal Ha'emek, in northern Israel.
Although he only remained in Danville for three years, many
of his congregants continued to revere him and kept in touch
with him over the next 50 years.
From 1953-1954, Rabbi Bulman served as mashgiach in
Yeshivas Rabbeinu Yitzchok Elchonon. He was once again pulled
to the world of rabbonus when he became rov in South
Fallsburg, N.Y., in 1954.
During this time, he founded the National Conference of
Synagogue Youth (NCSY), the youth division of the Union of
Orthodox Jewish Congregations of America (the OU), together
with Rabbis Weitman, Goodman, and Chait. He was the keynote
speaker at the first NCSY convention, held in the Catskills,
and at many of the yearly conventions held after that. He
realized that an inspiring organization like NCSY would be
able to keep many Jewish youths committed to Torah and it
could also bring thousands of wavering teenagers back. Many
former NCSY'ers still remember how their lives were
transformed by Rav Bulman's electrifying speeches.
His next position was as head of Adath Jeshurun synagogue in
Newport News, Virginia, beginning in 1957. This city was a
port city to which Jews had first moved in the 1880s. When
Rabbi Bulman arrived, there was no Jewish education other
than Sunday school and an afternoon Hebrew school. There
wasn't even a minyan of shomer Shabbos Jews.
There were only three succos built in town every year -
- one in the rabbi's house, one in the home of the
shammash, and one in the shul.
The shul remained Orthodox only because the older
congregants still had clout, but the future looked bleak.
There were fiery discussions about whether to keep the
mechitza up; an Orthodox shul in an adjacent
city had already taken theirs down.
When he left five years later, Rabbi Bulman had built a new
shul with a new mikveh, he had a shomer
Shabbos minyan going every day, he had established a day
school with close to 70 students and he had begun sending
graduates of the day school to the Ner Yisroel yeshiva and
Bais Yaakov in Baltimore. The year he left, 23 succos
were built in the town! The Virginia region of NCSY was very
strong due to Rabbi Bulman's efforts, and many youngsters
became frum through it.
It was necessary to send the young people away if they were
to get a strong Jewish education. Many of those whose lives
were touched by Rabbi Bulman moved to the major religious
communities in Baltimore, New York, Atlanta, Miami, or
Israel. The kehilla in Newport News eventually faded
away. However, the Newport News youngsters whom he influenced
-- people now in their 50s and 60s -- are today Torah Jews,
they and their hundreds of children and grandchildren.
One former congregant who now lives in Israel recalls that
she was an impressionable 13-year-old when Rabbi Bulman moved
in to their community. "I had no interest in religion and all
my thoughts revolved around having fun with my social circle.
Anyone who knows what the atmosphere was like in the southern
U.S. knows exactly what I mean. But Rabbi Bulman knew how to
reach our Sunday afternoon class, and we Southern belles
related to him like a good friend."
When the new shul was completed, the board of
directors decided to hold a gala social event to raise money
to defray the construction costs. They decided upon a big
dance for all the Jewish teenagers in town, replete with a
rock band. Rabbi Bulman protested mightily, but he was
overwhelmingly outvoted.
"As a young teenager, I myself was surprised at how wild the
event got. I even thought, `This isn't right for a shul.'
So in the middle of the affair, my girl friend and I
walked over to Rabbi Bulman's house, very glum. He looked at
us and asked, `What are you doing here?'
"We told him frowning, `We left the dance.' As usual, he was
in the middle of reading a book. He read us a mussar
story from it. All of a sudden I realized what was bothering
me. `Rabbi Bulman! What's going on in the shul -- it
looks like when Moses came down from Mount Sinai and saw them
dancing around the Calf! It's absolutely horrible there!'
"Rabbi Bulman sighed. `Yes, it will take a little longer,' he
told us, `but Moses will still bring the Torah down.'
"He could have spilled out all the anguish he felt. No doubt
he felt betrayed about the dance after having built the
shul, insisting on the mechitza and building
the mikveh. But the shul never again had
another dance, even after he left. After the event was over,
everyone realized that it wasn't right."
Midnight Visit on a Ship
At Newport News, Rabbi Bulman was forced to contend with
several strange events which required quick thinking and
mesirus nefesh. One Shabbos he was in shul for
Sholosh Seudos when a sailor knocked on the door and
handed him a note. A desperate call for help was written on
it.
An Israeli seaman had joined a Swedish merchant ship without
realizing that the captain was a drunken antisemite. After
suffering abuse at the captain's hand, the man wanted
desperately to leave. Some of his shipmates had been allowed
to go visit the nearby port of Newport News, and he begged
them to hand his note to a rabbi in a shul.
Rabbi Bulman quickly finished Sholosh Seudos and
davened ma'ariv. Then he rushed to the port police and
showed them the note. The police captain explained that he
had no jurisdiction on a boat three miles out, but at Rabbi
Bulman's urging, the police captain agreed to accompany Rabbi
Bulman and his school's principal to the Swedish ship.
The police cruiser reached the lonely merchant ship late at
night, when all was silent besides the rhythmic waves lapping
against the sides. Still dressed in his Shabbos finery and
fedora, Rabbi Bulman found himself clambering up the rope
ladder behind the police captain into the Swedish ship.
Confronted by the stern police captain, and too drunk to
realize he had no jurisdiction, the Swedish captain gave up
the Jewish seaman.
In another story from those times, one of Rabbi Bulman's
young congregants was a worker at a navy shipyard, building a
submarine. One Friday afternoon, he called the rav in
desperation. "I worked all week on a submarine and now we are
up to the testing stage. The testing will run into Shabbos.
What should I do?"
Rabbi Bulman quickly asked him questions concerning how the
testing would be done. Then he carefully instructed him
concerning which things he could and could not do. He
concluded his instructions with an order: "As soon as you
finish, walk to our home. We're waiting for you."
The young man finally staggered in at three in the morning,
in a state of total exhaustion. The Bulmans gave him fish and
fruit and then, warning their children not to make noise, put
up a bed for him in the living room. The man slept 24 hours
straight.
Educational Work in High Gear
Rabbi Bulman then returned to his position as mashgiach
in Yeshiva University from 1962-1963, and then worked for
Torah Umesorah from 1963-1967, directing their teacher
training programs in yeshivos. This involved observing,
lecturing and serving as a trouble-shooter.
Throughout this time, he continued to be a keynote speaker at
Agudas Yisroel and OU conventions, maintained his involvement
in NCSY, and engaged in prolific writing and reviewing for
the Jewish Observer, which he had helped found in
1963. He often wrote the "Second Looks" column that appeared
at the back.
In 1967, he took his next rabbinical position as the rav of
the Young Israel of Far Rockaway. During this time, he
founded Sarah Schenirer High School and Seminary in 1968, and
the Yeshiva of Far Rockaway (Yeshivas Derech Eison), and he
taught in both places. He taught a heavy schedule of classes
between 4 and 6 days a week in the seminary.
The balabatim battles continued here too, but as in
Newport News, he gradually won the congregants' respect and
admiration. By the time he left in 1975, he had attracted a
large following of local bnei Torah who avidly
attended his Friday night discourses on Kuzari, his
Shabbos afternoon shiurim on Shir Hashirim, and
the many other shiurim he gave.
When Rabbi Bulman spoke, the shul was packed to the
rafters with his congregants and outsiders. Many of his
balabatim had changed from opposing his "fanatic"
views to becoming his devoted followers. His greatest
nachas was pointing out a ben Torah who had
returned home for vacation and saying, "Look at this ben
Torah! What problems his father gave me before he agreed
to send him to yeshiva!"
Rabbi Bulman reached a high point in his career during the
Madison Square Garden rally in 1971 on behalf of Russian
Jewry. He was chosen to be the speaker who read the letter of
the Moetzes Gedolei HaTorah to the Soviet government. While
Rav Hutner wrote the letter, Rabbi Bulman was present during
its formulation and became close to him from that and similar
encounters.
At this point, Rabbi Bulman was a recognized leader and
speaker in the religious community. He had won the implicit
trust of gedolei Torah, and he had taken several
moribund or sleepy communities and turned them into Torah
powerhouses. At this point, the most prestigious and
attractive rabbinical positions awaited him. But he took a
step that no one expected.
Next week: The move to Eretz Yisroel
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