Today marks the 613^th day of my older son Ze’ev’s reserve-duty service as an army kashrut mashgiach since the October 7^th War broke out. I know that number sounds like I made it up, but I didn’t. Just saying. Some people have been in uniform for 997 days. Others have been in uniform for hundreds. One of those is my son-in-law.

A few months ago, my daughter Tzippora and her husband Shaked were making plans for summer vacation. Shaked, who learned in yeshiva and passed a year of semicha tests, is a popular Tanach teacher in a secular school in Kiryat Gat. As an idealistic baal teshuva from the Iranian community of Ashkelon, becoming a role model to kids from a background similar to his own was always his dream, and now he is living that dream. He is already a homeroom teacher in charge of the Tanach department in his large high school, and the school is starting to push him to take an interest in being a school principal, but he wants to keep teaching.

 Over the past three years, he has been juggling teaching with hundreds of days of intense army service, mostly in Gaza. At age 34, he is no longer in the very front lines like he was 10 years ago as an elite Givati infantry reservist participating in four Gaza post-Disengagement wars, but he is still very much involved in active combat service.

Mr. Flamm was a beloved educator and mentor at Talmudical Academy, where he taught first and sixth grade and also prepared students for their bar mitzvahs, including my brother and me. He and my family were members of Shearith Israel on Glen Ave in Baltimore, and the Flamm family were longtime customers of my father’s business, Wasserman and Lemberger.

For many years, Mr. Flamm kindly drove me to school each morning because my father left early for work. Although many people assumed he was a rabbi, he never received semicha and insisted on being called “Mr. Flamm.” In addition to teaching at Talmudical Academy, he also taught at other day schools and synagogue Hebrew schools from the 1960s through the 1980s. He was deeply loved and respected by generations of students and synagogue members.

I found the article below in an old issue of the Shearith Israel Bulletin and thought young readers would find Mr. Flamm’s story an interesting and inspiring part of Baltimore history.

Looking to move into a new house? Renovate one you are moving into? Renovate your own?

The best way to do this is to utilize government programs that are meant to benefit health, the environment, and emissions, and to prevent danger and hazards. Here are three programs that can deliver the desired result:

EmPOWER Maryland

Have you ever noticed all the EmPower MD charges on your BGE bill? Now it is time to become a beneficiary of what you are paying for instead of just funding others.

EmPOWER Maryland Limited Income Energy Efficiency Program is a statewide program that provides free home repairs and upgrades to reduce energy use, improve comfort, lower bills, and enhance health/safety. This is one of Maryland’s most powerful hidden home?improvement resources. I actually finally studied it properly as a result of being pressured with a 45-minute deadline to write this article.

Eligibility: There are two paths to eligibility:

1) If you participate in any of these programs, you are automatically income?eligible: SNAP, TANF, SSI, Medicaid.

2) Income?based eligibility is based on the household income being below 250% of Federal Poverty Level. As an example, the income for a household of eight must be below $137,550. For other amounts, see https://dhcd.maryland.gov/Energy-Home-Repair/pages/homeowner-grants/empower.aspx.

EmPOWER focuses on energy efficiency and safety. Here are some major repairs that many homeowners don’t realize can be covered by EmPOWER:

• Insulation
• Hot water system improvements
• Furnace cleaning/tuning
• Lighting retrofits
• Refrigerator replacement
• Health and safety items

A quiet movement was initiated by and for Orthodox women who are doing the holy task of helping those at the end-of-life, working with the deceased, and caring for the bereaved. Most people run the other way when this topic is raised; not so the more than 100 women who eagerly came on the first Sunday and Monday in May to the inaugural Vital Voices Conference, organized by Core –  Jewish Women’s Leadership and Community Support Network, a global nonprofit organization dedicated to empowering Jewish women in communal leadership roles.

The mission of Core, whose CEO is Alia Bulow, is to build leadership infrastructure for the Jewish world. It connects, develops, and supports women in communal service so they can stay and grow in those roles, and through them grow stronger. Core supports 14 different “communities of practice,” ranging from the community of rebbetzins to kallah teachers to those who support the dying and bereaved.

Women from all over the world traveled to attend the first conference of its kind to collaborate, share, network, and support one another. This gathering was guided by our Torah values and hashkafa and included a panoply of outstanding speakers who are professionals in their field.

*  *  *

The roar of the battlefield, the cries of the wounded, the alarming wail of a siren, and the screams of those running for safety are sounds and noises that have rocked our country now for over two years.

Cries of joy, the sound of glass being broken by a chuppa, the blasting noise from a lively band are also part of our daily life.

And then there are silent cries in the dark of night. Each heart beats in its unique wave of pain. Choked-up cries, tearful songs of faith and goodness are also part of our nation.

We are a resilient nation, beaten by both personal tragedies and suffering and national level struggles and battles. Churban Habayit took place almost 2,000 years ago, but the destruction, its repercussions, and its tikkun are taking place in every generation.

I present to you a story. It is a personal story, a story that contains almost every cry, noise, and sound imaginable – a story of resilience, faith, strength, and incredible giving that shapes the individual who has chosen, while walking the path of suffering, to lift her head and light up our world. The message in this story will penetrate our emotions, shape our decisions, and speed up Geulah.

I’ve been working with adolescents and parents for over 20 years. Through my work, my own experiences with my parents, and my experiences raising my own children, I’ve noticed something that comes up again and again.

Most parents are trying incredibly hard. They love their children. They sacrifice for their children. They read parenting books. They attend parenting classes. They listen to podcasts. They ask questions. Some of them are so invested in parenting that they even write parenting books.

The challenge is that, like many areas in life, studying something is often much easier than implementing it when the pressure is on. It’s one thing to read about staying calm, validating feelings, and preserving relationships. It’s another thing entirely when the challenge lands in your lap and every emotion inside of you is screaming to react.

Getting married was so exciting. Moving from my hometown of Lakewood to the busy streets of Boro Park felt like the beginning of a grand adventure. But after sheva brachos, when real life settled in, I realized just how small that adventure felt inside a tiny Brooklyn apartment. I came to my senses pretty quickly and realized that if my new surroundings were going to feel like home, we had to turn this apartment into one – on a tight newlywed budget, of course. Little did I know just how cozy, functional, and beautiful that little apartment could become.

My six-hour guarding shift at our base near the gates of Gaza was almost over, following a four-hour emergency standby. Just then, shortly before sundown on Friday afternoon, I got the call from my company commander. “They need someone to help tonight in Gaza. The convoy leaves in 10 minutes. Can you go?”

I had already showered and put on my clean uniform in honor of Shabbos. I was thinking through the Torah idea I planned to share in the base shul that night. But the army was sending crews every evening to improve the security of forward outposts inside Gaza. Every night’s delay in getting the security sensors up there means another day our soldiers’ lives are endangered. So, I grabbed my helmet, borrowed a bulletproof vest, and ran to the mission commander’s warehouse to help load the truck. The commander, a weathered lieutenant colonel who’d been doing this since before I was born, looked me over, pointed to a large box, and barked: “Are you strong enough to lift this?”

I picked up the box – it wasn’t that heavy – and was thus officially accepted for my first active mission in the heart of Gaza, together with two other rookies who, like me, had just joined the army with the Shlav Bet program for older chareidi volunteer soldiers.

A Guide to the 2026 Democratic Primary Races that Will Shape the Future of the Broader Baltimore Jewish Community

by Shmuel Gopen

The fast-approaching June 23, 2026, Democratic primary is not just another election but rather may be the most consequential in a generation. Reflecting our country’s increasingly polarized political environment, candidates across multiple races in this primary who openly support anti-Israel ideas and actions are running against elected officials who have stood steadfastly with the Jewish community. Due to the overwhelming number of Democrats versus Republicans in Maryland, the winner of the Democratic primary typically goes on to win the general election. If you are not registered as a Democrat, then you will not be able to vote in this decisive primary. The outcome will be decided by who shows up.

The Community: Who Lives Here and Who Must Vote

According to the 2020 Baltimore Jewish Community Study conducted by Brandeis University, the greater Baltimore Jewish community numbers approximately 95,400 Jewish adults and children across roughly 46,700 households. Approximately 21 percent of Jewish adults in Baltimore identify as Orthodox. That means roughly 20,000 to 30,000 Orthodox Jews call the Baltimore metro area home. The heart of that community is concentrated in the Northwest corridor: Park Heights, Cheswolde, Pikesville, and Owings Mills. This concentration of Jewish voters, and specifically Orthodox Jewish voters, gives the community enormous political leverage. Jews as a group have historically recorded the highest voter turnout of any ethnic group in America. But in local primary elections here in Baltimore, that potential is rarely realized.

Beginning shidduchim can be both exhilarating and nerve-racking. It requires a deliberate decision to start a new chapter full of uncertainty. The individual embarking on shidduchim may feel anxious and usually turns to those close to him for support and guidance. I want to explore the delicate balance between the individual’s role and his mentors’ roles in decision-making about dating. As a rebbe of boys, I will focus on a boy’s experience in shidduchim, though the same principles apply equally to girls.

Rav Shlomo Wolbe, zt”l, writes at the end of his sefer, Z’ria U’binyan B’chinuch (adapted into English as Planting and Building: Raising a Jewish Child), that a boy should not be told that it is time to start shidduchim if the boy himself does not feel ready. Conversely, Rav Wolbe adds, he should not be discouraged from beginning shidduchim at a younger age (his example is 19) if he says he is ready and wants to start.

These directives from Rav Wolbe shed new light on chinuch in general, and shidduchim in particular. As parents, we naturally want what is best for our children, but as outsiders, we only possess an external vantage point. In yeshivish circles, most boys begin shidduchim at about age 23, as before this, they may lack the maturity or emotional development needed to responsibly undertake the practical, financial, and emotional aspects of marriage and family. On the other hand, it may be unwise to delay dating beyond that age when their peers are already starting to get married. There is a fear that younger girls may perceive them as too old, or that people may wonder if something is wrong with them for delaying dating. These are all valid considerations; thus, most well-intentioned parents and mentors in yeshivish circles advise against dating before age 22 and discourage delaying dating until after age 24.