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Samuel Loncar: There's a famous distinction from Max Weber that the charismatic founder of a movement of religion, the charisma, can't be passed on. So you get what Weber called a routinization of charisma. And that is what happens to a lot of movements. You don't understand sort of the original magic, but I've seen many videos that I could watch with the Rebbe, and I think the Rebbe is, to me, a complete mystery. He seems utterly concealed. And Rabbi Krinsky was the the essentially the aide de camp to this sort of general I found had an energy which was most striking to me, deeply reserved that the idea of what we think of as an ego or an egocentric self-presentation just seemed utterly foreign to the existence of this man, as if this withdrawn presence that the Rebbe spoke from but therefore couldn't be accessed inside of, was somehow inside of this person, as if if you weren't meant to see or hear something, it's as if your attention would just fade off into water. But then you could hear something like, I heard many things and those things changed my life.

Paul W. Franks: Good evening everybody. Tonight we will not only learn history, but we'll also make history. Since this is a unique and unprecedented opportunity to hear from Rabbi Krinsky, who was not only a front seat observer, but also a participant in one of the most remarkable developments of Jewish history, but also, I think, of world history, certainly in the last 100 years, the incredible growth and development of Chabad.

Toby Hecht: Titling the event from Boston Latin to Lubavitch, was going to draw an audience, for sure. We're talking about Boston Latin as the oldest public school in the country, and we're talking about this new movement that develops in mass after the Second World War.

Samuel Loncar: It was a profoundly interesting question, just at the level of trying to understand a great movement and a great organization to see who is this human being who helped this extraordinary person who had such an influence.

Paul W. Franks: So, Rabbi Krinsky, I'd like to start with your early life. When did your family come to America and where did they settle?

Rabbi Krinsky: Uh, my dad was born in 1887. And my mother thereabouts on the Rosh Hashanah, either a year before or a year after. And they came to America at the turn of the century, and they met and married in 1914. And it was on the farm near Worcester. And they vowed that their wedding, before the wedding, that if God will bless them with children, they will do their utmost, and even more than that, to make sure that the children become Torah observers. Shomrei Torah Umitzvah. And they were very successful. My father's diary, when it came to my birth, he referred to me as a Ben zkunim, born at an older age. They were both mid-forties and I came along.

We are flying over Boston Common, in the heart of Boston. One of the oldest of America's great cities. Almost 300 years ago, this plot of land was bought by the Puritan settlers.

Rabbi Krinsky: There were no yeshivas in the 30s. I was born in 33. I was registered in public school for the second grade. The same Sarah Greenwood school that was across the street from the Lubavitcher Shul on Glenway Street, and that went on through elementary school through the sixth grade. And then I went to junior high, also school in the area where I lived in Dorchester. I played baseball, I was a good athlete. I used to run the fastest in the school. When they had the races in the school before, you know, came a little bit earlier than before school classes opened. When our side was losing a little bit, I was put in the last one to make it up. That's how I was.

Today, December 7th, 1941, a date which will live in infamy.

Rabbi Krinsky: I remember Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941, vividly. And in 1942 they were both drafted into the United States Army. My older brother, Velvel, we called him in Yiddish, was the United States Air Force. He served as a navigator on the bombers, if you're familiar with the equipment, the b-19, etc. I am, and he was later transferred to become a director of the traffic, uh, air traffic, uh, in the Battle of the Bulge and, uh. My brother Moishe ended up in Okinawa in the Pacific scene. I was registered in the Boston Public Latin School. You had to go through some tests in order to be able to get in. And I started going there. The that school was far away was near Harvard in Allston, a shtetl (village) near Brookline, and this was a pre Harvard Public School. I understand, until this day, it's the main entrance to Harvard College. After a short while there, my parents decided that I should be sent to New York, to Lubavitch. What happened was when I came to New York in 1945, I was supposed to come after the when the school year started after Shmini Atzeres and Simchas Torah (Jewish Festivals) but my parents, in their wisdom, thought that an older brother was coming to New York for the Holidays . And so what better time is it to be by the Rebbe? And I was I was 12, but they thought I would appreciate it. I sure did. So we came two days before, the day before Hoshana Rabbah (festival) and the night of Hoshana Rabbah, the custom in Chabad is that after 1:00 at night, you recite the whole Tehilim (Psalms) before you go to sleep.

Rabbi Krinsky: So I went from the dormitory where my brother put me up for until till after the holiday, and as soon as they opened the door to 770, I could see the Rebbe standing in the Beth midrash (Study Hall) right at the door. Uh, he his beard was black and he was dressed in his Shabbos clothing, long jacket, if you will. And I was struck by his beauty, by his countenance, saying the Tehilim (Psalms), I was really drawn. There was something special about his just his face. The next night was Shmini Atzeres (8th days of the Holiday,) where just a handful of us, I didn't know any of them, we're just getting to know each other from different parts of the country. And the Rebbe came down from the from the Festive meal on the second floor at about 10:30 and he went into his office at the bottom of the steps, as you know, the wooden steps. And after a short while he came out in his coat and he walked into the Shul, and he asked us if we danced with the Torah and recited the verses and none of us had anything. So he went back to his office, took off his coat, came back into the shul to us, and arranged to have the verses be said. Everybody had a verse. And then we danced with the Torah for about an hour. If I'm not mistaken, it was we it went till till around 1:00.

Question: Why do you think he did that?

Rabbi Krinsky: He did it because he- because he's a terrific person.

Samuel Loncar: Overwhelmingly, you could see the joy whenever he recollected the Rebbe. There was this incredible joy. And that, to me was where the charisma was. The charisma was not of his personality. It was the joy that you had to be looking at his face. But you look at his face, I'm sure it's there in the camera, and you see, anytime he's telling a story about the Rebbe, you see this light that was very striking to me.

Toby Hecht: Here's this young boy who is going at 12 years old, away from his home to study in a time where we have the cataclysmic event of the Holocaust happening. And at the same time as this destruction is evolving, there's new seeds being planted in this new frontier we call America. It speaks to who the Rebbe was as an individual and as a leader. These young boys felt so empowered by the Rebbe to think that they did not grow up in the same Jewish schools as other Lubavitcher boys in Tomchei Tmimim (Chabad Jewish School)  in in in Russia. And yet the Rebbe took them and was inspired by, in a sense, by what they could accomplish, together.

Rabbi Krinsky: When I went home in 1949 for the summer and my brother said they had a poultry business. They had bought a new vehicle, a pickup truck, and they said, Yossi and Pinny, why don't you learn how to drive? It had a stick shift with a clutch with a you don't know what it is, but I never thought I'd have a car. So my dad said, listen to your brothers. Get a license. I honored my father and my mother. You can. Thank G-d So within a week, I had a license in my pocket. It was about 11:15. We were already in Talmudic discourse. I don't remember which tractate we were learning. I think it may have been Leibel Groner I don't remember. And, uh, Yudel do you have a license? I did have a license. He said, the Rebbe wants to go to the Ohel (Grave of his Father in Law- 6th Lubavitch Rebbe). Usually he would say the night before that He's going tomorrow, but he's he wants to go right away so go to Shmuel Eizik and get a car and you'll take the Rebbe and then you'll take him home. I was stunned. Stunned. But, you know, I didn't feel I should play humility, there was a need for the Rebbe needs it. I was a good driver. I was very, very good. So I took the Rebbe.

Toby Hecht: It wasn't a vertical relationship. This was a horizontal relationship. We were going to get everywhere and to everyone. Everyone was valuable. And this is the message of, of of of Jewish mysticism, in particular the Chabad Hasidism, which is this unbelievable power of the individual and the purpose that every person has and the value. Can you imagine these young, young people who are feeling that they they have so much value to add, not just randomly, they are chosen or that they have been given specific, um, powers or strengths, and that the Rebbe was tapping into them and making them feel and understand their power and strength is for any young person. Can you imagine what that would be like?

Rabbi Krinsky: Rabbi Chodokov asked me, uh, what are you planning to do after you're married? I said, I have no, it might sound funny to all of you, I have no plans. I was hoping I could stay on for a year or two to continue the studies. It was very dear to me. I really wanted to. And he said, you have no plans of for a job or occupation? I said, no. The truth if I had anything in mind for a future livelihood, I would have asked I would have spoken to the Rebbe. But I had nothing in mind. I said, I have nothing. And that was the end of the conversation. I didn't realize why he asked me that question. I found out later. So it was a Monday night, September 16th, and my parents came in from Boston to the wedding. It was in the Gold Manor in Williamsburg, where most of the weddings were those years they didn't have where to stay. In New York we have no mishpochah (family.) And there was a what it was was not the community that you see here today. It was very, very sparse, Lubavitcher Hasidim in Crown heights. Mincha (afternoon prayer) time the Rebbe came out to pray a quarter after three, the regular time with the quorom. My father prayed with the Rebbe's quorom. The Rebbe Saw him. The Rebbe noticed that my father was in the quorom and my mother was in the hallway in the lobby of the near his office and going back into his office after he noticed both my parents were there. And he asked Rabbi Chodokov to ask them to come into his office. Into the Rebbe's office, which was also not usual. They spent about 15 to 20 minutes with the Rebbe.

Rabbi Krinsky: When they came out. My parents told me that the Rebbe, what the whole 20 minutes was I dont know. He told them about Yudel's livelihood You need not worry, he's my responsibility and that's when it all came to a head. And a few days later I was alone in the office at night. The 7:45 and the intercom rang. I knew where it was coming from. It was coming from the Rebbe, there was nobody else there to take the call. So I picked up the phone and the Rebbe asked me to come into his office. I went in, he was sitting in a chair in the side of a desk, his desk, and I could see what he was doing. He was he would dictate letters to different secretaries, and he was correcting an English letter, full page that, uh, that that he was in the middle of copying, working on when I came into the office. So he asked me to wait a couple of minutes, and I was just watching him work, and he was writing things between the between the lines and in the margins and crossing out things with and arrows all over the place, going this and that, and ultimately finished. He stood up and he gave it to me. I knew the Rebbe's handwriting in English and Hebrew perfectly. I didn't need any advice, but handing it to me, he told me something. He said, don't be surprised. He asked me if I could retype it, which I said, of course I could. He said, start from the beginning. Read word by word and line by line, and you will see that at the end it'll all work out.

Joseph Berger: When I was at Newsday, a newspaper on Long Island, The newspaper for Long Island, I was I was the religion correspondent, and I decided to do a piece on the Hasidim because most secular people knew nothing about them, and I knew very little about them myself. And I, um, uh, met with Rabbi Krinsky.

Rabbi Krinsky: So I've been fortunate to be close to the Rebbe for a number of decades, for over 30 years now as a student for another ten years. And he has always remained to me as an enigma. It is a strange phenomenon that you'd be close to a person, and yet you feel that you don't really have a grasp on the type of person because he is beyond your grasp.

Joseph Berger: At this point in time, he was an aide to the to the Rebbe. But he was very friendly. I remember, uh, among other things, we did, we drove to Morristown, New Jersey, where I think there was a yeshiva there. Um, so we had a long drive and we talked. I remember he told me about being a Boston Red Sox fan and, um, just a very pleasant, uh, very intellectual, intelligent, pleasant, um, curious man.

Rabbi Krinsky: I started getting in touch with the newspapers that the newspapers in New York, I had trouble. The only trouble I had with the paper I had was New York Times. Uh. I couldn't reach them. I couldn't get, I couldn't. There was one writer by the name, a Jewish man by the name of, uh, Irving Spiegel. Pat Spiegel, he was called and he had a he had a lock on Jewish news going in to the newspaper. Remember him? How holiday news and whatever, whatever it was, if it had jewish content . He was the one who decided what goes into the paper or not. And I couldn't. I couldn't get, get, get through to him and a Jewish man. No. So one time my wife, who knew my my problem and she says to me, I knew his wife by that time, Spiegel's wife, she was a fine woman. Not like the husband at all. And she says, well, why don't we invite them over some night for dinner on a night that there will be a farbrengen (Gathering) like in the weekday, and you'll introduce them to the Rebbe when they have the little break between the talks. So that was a great idea. So they both came. It was Tu Bishvat. So it was in the middle of the week. It was no problem with Shabbos and traveling. So one of the breaks I went over to the Rebbe with Pat. I said, Rebbe, This is Mr. Spiegel from the New York Times. The Rebbe looks at him. He pours him some wine in a cup to Say Lchaim, and the Rebbe said Lchaim with him. You know what he tells him? Mr. Spiegel, you can reach more Jews than I can. And you know what happened? From that moment, he became a different person.

Joseph Berger: Rabbi Krinsky showed me the television studio That was a surprising you know, you don't you don't. When you go to an Orthodox shul, you don't see a television studio there. So, you know, here was a group that seemed ancient. And yet here they were using the modern, uh, the, the most up to date methods for spreading their word that they wanted people to take in.

Rabbi Krinsky: I wanted to do a photos of all the Rebbe's gatherings and every public appearance. So I got I got somebody, uh, a young man from Crown Heights doesn't live here anymore. And he had he had the basic equipment from that day on, every farbrengen in the weekdays and later on by dollars. Uh, much later. And whenever, at every opportunity took pictures, I accumulated a library that I had in the office at that time a whole shelf full of half inch Sony tapes, black and white, and if i did anything in my life that that that was a benefit for the masses for the Jewish people in the world. It's those Those live. You get a kid 6 years old can see the Rebbe.

Joseph Berger: My my preconception was of Hasidim is derived from Europe, so that the fact that he was he was um in the world, in the secular world and quite aware of what was going on, uh, did surprise me.

Samuel Loncar: It did explode any sort of stereotype about the Chabad movement, for example, as being distinctively non-American. It's the opposite. There's something completely divine about America. I don't mean as a nation, our policies that we're better than other countries, but the fact that the Hebrew Bible, as Christians or academics would call it, does undergird fundamental principles of both the enlightenment and the Protestant form of Christianity that settled New England famously, and the role of the Jewish tradition and the Jewish Bible, which celebrates creation, celebrates everything good in every culture, and confounds every attempt to limit God to categories like ethnicity. That was part of what I saw in Rabbi Krinsky. And what I see in the Chabad movement is exactly this incredible adaptability and flexibility across cultural contexts. That is, I think, very American, that you can be a Chinese American, my multi-ethnic, my grandmother was Okinawan. She recently passed. So I'm Asian American and I'm also Native American. And this, is to me, what it means to be American is exactly that ethnicity informs you, enhances you, enriches you, but it does not define you.

Toby Hecht: If you're not tapped into or anchored into something traditional, something that is not about today, but is part of a past and a present and a future, it's very you can feel very aimless and being aimless and unanchored in a in a world that we live in today is scary. And it feels, I think, for a lot of people that they don't, they don't know what the future can hold. And the only way to understand what values are, is to have the notion that there's something greater to connect to out there, and be that person who can transmit to the future, for the future from the past, instead of just floating by accident.

Samuel Loncar: As visibility is increased. Everyone's on camera. Everyone's taking selfies as the face of the human becomes more and more banal and mundane, and AI generated more and more and more, we're looking for the real thing. What is the real human? And the real human is not the person who who sits at a street corner and says, look at me. Look at how beautiful I am. Look at my nosejob. Look at my great voice. Look at my acting skill. Not that any of those are bad in themselves, but I think the charisma that comes from not pursuing attention, but in principle, eschewing it. Our desire for glory is ultimately a desire to see the God who made us call it what you will meaning, purpose, truth, life, love, wisdom, to see, to be seen by that and known and not destroyed. Because deep down, everything shameful or hidden in us. We're afraid that if we're actually known, we'll die. And so I think the charisma of not devoting yourself to charisma is the deep, attractive element. And if you could say a pure sort of gravitational force that is nowhere visibly manifest, but creates an ever deepening field that pulls people closer and closer to genuine intimacy with their vulnerability, with their humanity. And you can see that's what the Rebbe did the people come to him with  all their problems to be blessed, just as people do in India for sages and many people in the West think that's eastern? No it's not. That's real devotion. It's as American as apple pie.