The coronavirus is a great time for a mitzvah. What’s a mitzvah? It’s a word that New Yorkers use to describe a good deed. And since I recently announced that I’m running for Congress – I’m eager to vacuum up as many mitzvot as possible.
Those of us who are young-ish need to adopt a couple of seniors. That’s what I’ve been doing. One of my favorite teachers from high school is now retired and recovering from cancer surgery.
I told him and his wife that their open-campus privileges have been suspended for a while. Until the epidemic is over, I’ll be helping with their groceries and medications. And since I had a little free time on my hands yesterday, it was the perfect opportunity to make a pot of matzah ball soup and swing by their place.
Truth be told, I was not the best student in high school. I don’t imagine that I would have had the skills or the motivation to graduate from college and attend law school – if it wasn’t for the impact that this teacher had on my life.
A couple of errands and some soup is the least I can do.
I’ll be doing the same thing for the mother of one of my best friends. Although she looks great, I happen to know her real age. And I’m concerned that if she gets the virus, she might develop breathing difficulties.
This woman is not only an expert in the advice department, but she’s had me over her house for G-d knows how many Friday night dinners over the years. Of course, I’m lending a hand and keeping her safe. It’s a no brainer.
And I’m sure that plenty of New Yorkers have already begun doing the same exact thing. That’s what we New Yorkers do. We tell jokes that offend Midwesterners and we jump at the opportunity to help one another.
Before I became a lawyer, I spent twelve years as a volunteer firefighter and EMT. On the morning of 9/11, I was at the World Trade Center when the buildings collapsed. My most vivid memories from that day aren’t the images that made the news and gave so many people nightmares. My most vivid memories are the images of regular New Yorkers helping one another.
I’ll always remember the men who stood next to the pushcarts when the enormous crowd of people were rushing by and the smoke was pouring upwards. Everybody was scared. And the smell of fuel was overpowering.
Nonetheless, these street cart men didn’t budge. They stood in place for more than three hours handing terrified strangers bottles of water and Snapple. And they didn’t exchange a word. They just handed over their bottles one at a time.
And I’ll always remember the bravery of Brooklynites at the base of the Manhattan Bridge.
For hours these men remained in place and reached out their arms and helped scared office workers climb over the railing and get their footing on the bridge.
The Manhattan Bridge is normally off-limits to pedestrians. On that day, it was filled with thousands of men and women rushing away from the fire and demonstrating grace and poise that impressed the world.
The young men at the base of the bridge weren’t trained rescue workers like I was. They were regular New Yorkers who saw people struggling and came over to lend a hand. And they stayed in place for hours, despite the smell of fuel, the vibrations from the fighter-jets flying over our heads and the blinding terror that we were all experiencing.
They were black men and brown men and maybe a white guy or two. They saw the opportunity for a mitzvah and they stepped up.
It’s time for younger New Yorkers to step up and help protect our older friends and neighbors.
If you’re not willing to shoulder your part of the burden you’re no longer allowed to call yourself a New Yorker. If someone asks where you’re from, you have to say, “I’m from Long Island – but I’m not a real New Yorker.”
Michael Weinstock
Great Neck
Michael Weinstock is if a former Assistant District Attorney and former rescue worker. He is now a candidate for Congress in New York’s 3rd Congressional District
