I had the privilege of having Zechariah (z’l) as my neighbor for six months. He was the first person that I met on visiting the building. I knocked on his door to borrow a tape-measure, and on returning it, we had a quick chat about moving to Israel and the neighborhood in general. I remember exiting towards the elevator, thinking to myself that he was a gentleman and I felt good about the prospect of having him as my neighbor.
Over the following six months, I rarely saw Zecharia without his children in tow – either coming from, or going somewhere. We never really had the time to speak much. Besides, I’m too British to enquire about another man’s day-to-day business, and he was too honorable to ask me about mine.
There is one particular exchange that stands out in my mind… Zechariah had been serving in Miluim for several weeks, and I came back from Maariv one evening making my way just past the Building A elevators… I saw the back of Zechariah in his army uniform walking towards his apartment door… I was absolutely thrilled to see him! I called out his name loudly down the corridor – he turned around, and I hurried to catch up with him. I remember exclaiming that it was "so good to see” him, enthusiastically extending my hand, which he shook firmly with a big smile. He said that he was on leave from the army for a couple of days. I thanked him for stepping up to serve. He said he wasn’t really “doing much.” My assumption was that he was doing something more administrative in nature. Far from it.
I wish that I would have hugged my neighbor that evening. But in my head I felt that he was too dignified for that. Over those six months, I never saw – or heard – him lose his composure. I wasn’t aware until later that he was going for his doctorate – nor that he was such a Ben Torah. I simply knew him as a good and solid man. It would have been excellent to have learnt a couple of sugyas with him. Though I would have definitely settled for a hug.
I think about Zecharia every time that I walk out of my apartment, and every time that I walk into it – at the very least. We know that G-D has his plan. Though I’m confident that Zechariah is still too much of a gentleman to ask.
May his memory be a blessing.