With the passing this week of Rabbi Yechiel Perr, zt’l, the founder and Rosh Yeshiva of the Yeshiva of Far Rockaway, we have lost one of the leaders who transformed our community into a Makom Torah. In its five decades, the yeshiva has educated thousands of talmidim to be rabbanim, lay leaders, and sincere bnei Torah.
A thread running through many of the hespedim for Rabbi Perr was the close connections fostered by the Rosh Yeshiva with his students, as he related to them as children and they to him as a parent.
Rabbi Yisroel Munk, a close talmid of Rabbi Perr, shares his reflections:
Reflections Of A Talmid
By Yisroel Munk
It is 9:25 on Motzaei Shabbos. I am sitting on the floor in my house crying uncontrollably. My mother, my wife, and my children take in the magnitude of my grief as I mourn for the man who shaped my entire being in every way. My youngest daughter, 4 years old, comes running up to me, gives me a big hug, and says, “Daddy, you want to see your Rosh Yeshiva more?”
I say “Yes,” and she insightfully inquires, “But you can’t see him anymore?” It is in this moment of brilliant youthful innocence that the very slow process of healing begins.
Rabbi Perr, the Rosh Yeshiva, taught us how to do everything in life. He usually did not teach us by telling us “Do this here and that there,” but rather he shared with us his wisdom, his insights, and his experiences, and through them it became clear to us how to act in each situation.
This was just one of the many aspects of his unique greatness—the ability to teach and convey ideas in a subtle but powerful way that penetrated to the depths of one’s soul. In that moment on the floor, I began to think of how the Rosh Yeshiva related to his rebbe, Maran HaGaon HaRav Aharon Kotler, zt’l, in the 61 years since Reb Aharon’s petirah. To borrow my daughter’s words, “Did he want to see his Rosh Yeshiva more?” Absolutely! More than anything in the world! Rabbi Perr would cry every year as he was maspid Rav Kotler on his yahrzeit.
I had the privilege in recent years to spend a lot of one-on-one time with the Rosh Yeshiva. One time I asked him something related to the last days of Reb Aharon’s life. As Rabbi Perr recounted them, he began to sob uncontrollably as if he had just experienced those events hours earlier. It was an incredible sight to behold (albeit slightly uncomfortable as I felt I had caused him unnecessary tzar).
However, the Rosh Yeshiva also lived according to my daughter’s insightful follow-up inquiry, “But you can’t see him anymore?” When the time called for it, he did mourn Reb Aharon, but to live a life wallowing in sorrow and self-pity? Never! Instead he instructed us how to go vaiter the way he did. He lived with Reb Aharon in his heart constantly and shared with us all the amazing insights and experiences of his 6 years of shimush by Rav Kotler so that we might one day be able to pass those insights on to the next generation.
In that moment on the floor in mourning, I knew that I and all the talmidim must mourn, but our most important task would be the next step, the impetus to go vaiter. Go ahead not by moving on and forgetting, chalila, but rather by keeping in our hearts forever everything he taught us, and then, even more importantly, passing that on to the next generation.
There were three primary influences that shaped the Rosh Yeshiva and, as a by-product, his talmidim. They were his father, Harav Menachem Mendel Perr, zt’l; Maran Hagaon HaRav Aharon Kotler, zt’l; and the mussar of Navardok learned from his father-in-law, HaRav Yehuda Leib Nekritz, and his grandfather-in-law, HaRav Avraham Yaffen, zt’l.
The Rosh Yeshiva often told the story of how he was once tasked by Reb Aharon to go to St. Louis to fundraise for Lakewood at the beginning of the z’man. Wanting to get the z’man off to a good start, the Rosh Yeshiva went to Reb Aharon to see if he could avoid going. Reb Aharon said to him, “You must because you can.” This was a fundamental principle in his teachings. What you can do, you must do!
A non-religious relative passed away, and I was asked to officiate at the funeral. The Rosh Yeshiva insisted I do so and proceeded to guide me through every step. Never wanting an opportunity for kiruv to be missed, Rav Perr insisted that I be sure to speak about Hashem in any way possible during the funeral to ensure non-religious Jews hear someone talk about Hashem. With his guidance, I was successful in ensuring that every step from taharah to kevurah was completed according to halacha. It was the Rosh Yeshiva’s brilliant sensitivity that guided me how to bring totally unaffiliated Jews closer to Hashem and interested in following laws they would have otherwise viewed as outdated and unimportant.
In another instance, a non-religious cousin was getting married and asked me to be mesader kiddushin. Again, the Rosh Yeshiva pushed me to do it and, with his brilliant wisdom, guided me to accomplish the task successfully. He instilled in me Reb Aharon’s lesson that “You must because you can!”
It should be noted that the Rosh Yeshiva was makpid gamur that in order to be mesader kiddushin at a wedding of a non-observant couple, the kallah had to go to the mikvah before the wedding. His insistence was based on a mesorah from his father. This is a classic example of the firm loyalty he held to mesorah and halacha while being able to have the broad-mindedness to view the world at large and deal with weighty matters with an unparalleled fearlessness.
The Rosh Yeshiva was a living example of emes. He wanted his students to be true to who they were. We studied mussar together with him daily. He taught us how to see our own biases, how to have bitachon, and how to not be embarrassed to stand up for the truth.
It was a source of great pride to him that he once heard the great Mirrer Rosh Yeshiva, Harav Nosson Tzvi Finkel, zt’l, say, “The boys from YFR are so real!” To him this was a bigger nachas than hearing them called the biggest iluyim or greatest masmidim.
A former talmid of the Yeshiva was learning in Eretz Yisrael and went to ask a dayan a question. The dayan paskened, “Muttar.” The student then asked the dayan, “I understand that it’s muttar, but is it the right thing to do?” The dayan looked at him and asked, “Did you go to Yeshiva of Far Rockaway?” After the talmid left the dayan, he called the Rosh Yeshiva to tell him what had happened, giving the Rosh Yeshiva much nachas.
The Rosh Yeshiva taught by example. He was allergic to sheker. Any time he saw people not being honest or making a chillul Hashem, he would be infuriated. He stood up against many such situations even within the community, especially in the early years, and often faced harsh backlash from laymen and clergy alike. However, if he knew what he was doing was right, he stood up and did it and was not concerned with what people thought or said about him.
At the same time, I witnessed many times that the Rosh Yeshiva had no problem changing his stance on an issue if he felt new information had come to light or that the situation had changed. Perhaps his middah of emes was best reflected in the changes he made to himself over the years. As his son said at the levayah, the Rosh Yeshiva was always a student, a student of knowledge, a student of people, and most importantly a student of himself. And as such he was constantly improving and refining himself, as a true baal mussar always does.
On my very last day together with my holy rebbe, the Rosh Yeshiva, (Baruch Hashem, I had the opportunity to spend a day with the Rosh Yeshiva on the Wednesday before Pesach for which I thank my wife for sacrificing having her husband home with four little kids running around the house less than a week before Pesach) he could barely say five words at a time without mustering superhuman strength. He spoke sparingly that day and mostly slept. He listened to me telling him divrei Torah and singing some of his favorite songs. When he did speak, it was usually after he woke up from a few minutes of sleep. He would ask, “Tefillin?” or “Netilas yadayim?” thinking it was morning and not wanting to delay the performance of a mitzvah. At his son’s request, I davened Minchah aloud for the Rosh Yeshiva, and he listened intently and responded with a loud “Amein” to each berachah. When it came time for Ma’ariv, his son told me to be motzi his father in berachos but that the Rosh Yeshiva would himself say the Shema. I was very skeptical that he would be able to do it, but not wanting to argue, I followed his directions. When we got to Shema, the Rosh Yeshiva said the first pasuk aloud, slowly and clearly. I was sure as he began V’ahavta that at some point he would need me to take over. Not so! Every word was said slowly and clearly until the very last words, “Hashem elokaychem emes!” It was incredible to see the Rosh Yeshiva’s essence in such a raw way. Netilas yadayim! tefillin! Shema! These were the things on the Rosh Yeshiva’s mind in the last weeks as his strength waned.
I’ll close with a pasuk and the comments of Rashi on it that speak to who our Rosh Yeshiva was and what he taught us about how to live our lives.
Rashi explains, “mah shetuchal aseh vlivcha lShamayim” Do it because you can! Do it for the right reason; do it for the sake of Heaven.
And Rashi continues, “ki ldavar hazeh nivrah kal haadam” For it is for this that the entire person was created!
Yehi zichro baruch.