When I think back to my childhood in the 1960s, I realize that the wonderful memories of Shabbos and Yom Tov, which have stuck with me until today, had a major impact on how I live my life. Let me take you on a brief journey through my childhood years, which reflect not only on my family but also on the Baltimore community in those not-so-far-off days.

Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur
Before Rosh Hashanah, my mother would search the stores for special new fruits. There was a fruit and flower stand at Reisterstown Road at Mortimer Avenue that

Who am I? I am a writer, business man, husband, and father. Married for many wonderful years, I helped raise our two children, though I give my wife the real credit for doing a wonderful job. Today, baruch Hashem, I am a proud grandparent shepping much nachas. Chasdei Hashem!
Now for what I am not: I am not a social worker or certified financial counselor. Even so, hardly a day goes by that I am not sought out by persons in the community to give eitzos, advice, on life or financial situations.
Everyone Needs Advice
Working as a volunteer and

Throughout my life I have met wonderful and talented people who have made a significant impression on me. Rabbi Binyamin Steinberg, z”l, was such a person. With his 23rd yahrzeit coming up on 11 Shvat/January 12, it is a fit time for those of us who knew him to honor his memory. And for younger Baltimoreans who were not privileged to know him, it is an appropriate time to learn about this special Baltimore personality.

Rabbi Steinberg’s engaging personality, simchas hachaim (a joyous happy spirit), Torah learning, and hashkafa (religious outlook) had a definite impact not only on me but on all with whom he came in contact. Most likely, Rabbi Steinberg never even realized the huge influence he had on them.

Here was a genuine, sincere, kind, warm, joyous man, highly educated in both limudei kodesh and secular studies, a great talmid chacham who possessed a chein (charm) and smile that captured everyone’s attention. He was a scholar, a renowned Jewish historian, an expert in Tanach and in dikduk (Hebrew grammar). Principal of Bais Yaakov high school, he was a master teacher and administrator. With all that, he was one of the most humble people you could ever meet. He possessed tremendous common sense and an ability to communicate clearly with all who sought his advice and counsel. He was a wonderful husband, father, and role model, and a mentor, to many individuals in Baltimore.

We certainly look different as we sit in the Rebbe’s dining room. He’s the chashuva Rebbe of Arugas Habosem, and looks the part, with his bekeshe and long beard. I, on the other hand, am wearing my usual tie-less shirt and casual tan slacks. Yet we are sitting together at his dining room tisch, along with his wonderful Rebbetzin, discussing his mother’s upcoming 50th yahrzeit.

Back in 1963, Reb Shaya and I loved to ride our bikes all over the Park Heights neighborhood where we both lived. Both our families were refugees, resettled in Baltimore. But we were different in many ways. He attended the Yiddish-speaking Shearis Hapleita (now TI), a chassidishe cheder, and came to TA with his class in the afternoon for English studies. I went to TA. He was from a Hungarian Satmar family, and I was from a Yekkishe German background. But for the last 50 years, Reb Shaya and I have stayed close, cherishing the old bike-riding days when we were classmates and very good friends.