From Rescuer to Rabbi

by Matt Rosenberg


In September 2011, I was working for the American Red Cross of the Bay Area. On the morning of September 11, 2001, I remember receiving a CNN email alert about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center and didn’t think to turn on the television as I recalled the 1945 plane that crashed into the Empire State Building. Very soon thereafter I realized that it was quickly becoming a disaster.

I knew Red Cross support would be needed so I hurriedly got ready for work. As I approached my office my supervisor called and re-routed me to an East Bay city, where an early-morning apartment fire had dislocated more than one hundred people. Over the course of the next few days, I supervised the apartment fire relief operation as we provided meals, financial assistance, health services, and mental health counseling to the residents. By the following weekend, things were mostly wrapped up and air travel had resumed. I flew to New York the Monday after 9/11 and soon arrived at the Brooklyn headquarters of the disaster relief operation.

There at the Brooklyn headquarters, I saw signs posted throughout the building about a Rosh HaShanah service to be held conveniently in the headquarters that evening, which happened to be Erev Rosh HaShanah. Despite my lack of presence at High Holy Day services throughout my life (I once stopped by a High Holy Day service at my “home” congregation in Sacramento following my Bar Mitzvah simply to claim my honor of going up to the Torah; one other time, my wife Jen and I attended one service shortly after college), I felt an immediate and intense desire to attend that service and be with fellow Jews that evening. The nation had experienced a collective trauma and spirituality became an important outlet for everyone, including myself.

Unfortunately, I was unable to attend as I was assigned to go meet with an immigrant family from Central America who had lost their head of household, a young father of three who was a dishwasher in the Windows on the World restaurant on the top floor of the North Tower of the World Trade Center. I was there to provide financial assistance and to support the family in shipping the body back home to their village for a funeral.

Throughout my three weeks in New York City, working in a makeshift relief center located in tents in a city park and later at the Family Assistance Center at Pier 94, I met with hundreds of workers who had lost their jobs on September 11. Many of these people were at work on that Tuesday morning and also lost countless friends and co-workers. Over the course of my time at Pier 94, a makeshift relief center, countless employees and residents from the southern tip of Manhattan sat across from me and told me their stories. A few stand out...

I remember meeting with a man who was an elevator operator in the top floors of one of the towers. He was on his break and outside of the building when the planes hit. Since he survived, he had tremendous survivor guilt for having lived while his friend who covered his break was dead.

A waiter in a hotel restaurant in one of the other buildings of the World Trade Center complex lost his job when his building collapsed, he had been preparing tables for lunchtime when glass from the roof began raining on his head. His daughter was in a special school due to multiple disabilities and he worried how he would pay tuition.

A woman whose apartment building was off limits following the attacks couldn’t access any of her possessions and friends were beginning to tire of her and her dog. She had nowhere to go.

I helped these people and many, many more with financial assistance and a kind ear, making referrals to mental health professionals when appropriate.

But the long-lasting effect of my time in New York was the spark that ignited a passion for Judaism. Despite my love for my job and the work I was doing with the Red Cross, I needed more. I needed to fill a hole that I didn’t know existed. I finally found out that I was missing Judaism when, two years later, I finally started a basic introductory class and became hooked. I really couldn’t get enough. I read everything I could and started taking classes and attending daily and Shabbat services at local synagogues.

In 2005 I decided to quit my job at the Red Cross and consider the rabbinate. It was very difficult to leave -- I loved my job and the work I did, it was incredibly rewarding. By the summer of 2006, Jen and I were studying in Jerusalem and my full-time path to the rabbinate had begun.

Now, as the tenth anniversary of September 11 approaches and I am in my penultimate year of rabbinical school, I look back and see how the events of my life have led me to where I am today. I feel that the guiding hand of God has helped me reach this place.

Matt Rosenberg is a rabbinical student at the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies at the American Jewish University in Los Angeles. He is on Twitter at @rabbimattr