School Daze

By: Larry Gordon

Can you imagine yeshiva classes beginning in mid-August back when you were in school? 

I remember once receiving a notice at home when I was going into sixth grade notifying us that school was going to start either August 29 or 30. But that was about all I was willing to take. I told my father that I refused to go to school in August, the last month of summer, and I was standing my ground.

Frankly, I don’t know why anyone took me seriously, but I ended up in the sixth grade at Yeshiva of Eastern Parkway where I spent the next three years until eighth grade graduation.

From there I went to Mesivta of Crown Heights, which was an excellent school, but Rabbi Joseph Baumol, who founded and ran the school, made aliyah after I finished 10th grade and the school ended up merging with Mesivta Chaim Berlin, where I spent the next two years through high school graduation.

When we talk about schools and I mention the fact that I was in four yeshivas, the assumption is that I bounced from one school to the next for one reason or another. The reality is that there were extenuating circumstances in all these schools that had nothing to do with the type of student I was.

I remember that in ninth grade, I memorized two blatt of Gemara and was proud of myself. In later years I met young men who memorized entire mesechtos ba’al peh (by heart). Now that was truly impressive.

As I recall, I genuinely enjoyed school even though it was difficult as a teenager to get up so early in the morning, make the bus, and get to school on time or at least at a reasonable hour. I didn’t realize I could make it on time to the early morning minyan until 11th grade, when I took a driver’s education course. The minyanstarted at 7:30 a.m. and I rarely made it before 8 a.m., but when driver’s ed started, it was scheduled for 5:30 a.m. when it was still dark outside. More often than not, I was there ahead of the whole class. 

I just knew that somewhere down the line I would have to answer for why I was able to make it on time for driver’s ed but was always late for Shacharis. I couldn’t come up with a good or even acceptable response to that, but I pledged to do my best to get to yeshiva on time, even after the driver’s ed course finished.

I’ll always remember our driver’s education teacher and at least one important lesson that he taught us aside from how to drive. It was a blustery cold February, and the weather was exactly what our driving instructor wanted. Namely, it was frigid and the streets were covered in ice. Most of us arrived early and were sitting outside the yeshiva on Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn. All of us were, of course, frozen to our core.

I’ll call the driver’s ed teacher Dave, which I think was his real name. “Today,” he said. “I’m going to teach you how to skid on the ice and maintain control of the car.” There were five of us in the car, all of us between 16 and 17 years old. I think he drove us over to East 17th Street near Ave. L where there were mostly warehouses in those days. There are probably sterling mansions there today. This is, after all, prime Brooklyn real estate.

I was sitting in the middle of the front seat next to the driver, a position that is probably the most dangerous in an accident. As I recall, the street was covered with a thick layer of ice. The plan was to drive over to East 17th Street and then accelerate up to about 45 or 50 mph. Then Dave told us he would slam on the brakes and as the car began to skid, he would turn the steering wheel and the tires into the skid.

We all braced ourselves. Human nature, as you know, is to turn the car away from the direction in which the car is skidding. If you’ve never been in a skidding or hydroplaning car, it’s one of the most terrifying things that can happen to you if you’re driving. Once it happens, you pretty much lose control of the car and at that point, you usually brace yourself for impact and hope for the best.

Dave accelerated the car, which I believe was a boxy-shaped Dodge Dart. It felt like we were going pretty fast when he suddenly hit the brakes. But instead of turning away from the direction in which the car was skidding, he steered the car into the direction of the skid and was able to regain control of the car that by that point was heading who knows where.

The car finally came to a halt and we sat there, stunned. As a teenager with limited driving experience, I was sure the only thing to do under these circumstances was to turn away from the direction that the car was sliding and hope to get it to stop at some point. I’m not going to say that I tried it again that day, but over the years there certainly were opportunities to summon up that memory and avoid an accident.

I also learned that day that this was an important lesson that can be applied to other areas in life. If you find yourself in a difficult or argumentative situation, don’t inflame it by pushing it in the opposite direction. Instead, turn into the direction of the dispute by tapping those intellectual brakes, even agreeing with your adversary slightly, but never surrendering completely.

Once the other side feels that you’re applying reason and being understanding toward their side, you will in all likelihood get control of the situation and steer a good part of the conversation in your direction. I’ve applied that philosophy many times and very often it works, just as beautifully and effectively as the day Dave controlled that car on that icy street in Brooklyn.

Essentially, I proved two things that morning. The first was that I could control a skidding car and second, if I could make it to driver’s ed by 5:30 a.m., I could certainly make it to minyan on time. 

Read more of Larry Gordon’s articles at 5TJT.com. Follow 5 Towns Jewish Times on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for updates and live videos. Comments, questions, and suggestions are welcome at 5TJT.com and on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.