Realtor helped develop community and organizations
The Crown Heights Jewish community was in the middle of celebrating the strangest Passover in its history. Schools had long been locked, synagogues were shuttered and Seders had no guests. Yet the community shone bright with countless acts of caring, kindness and love. Much credit for helping to create that sense of community, say friends and family, goes to Mendel Drizin, who passed away on the third day of Passover, April 13, after battling the coronavirus. He was 83 years old.
In one of their many private audiences with the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, Drizin and his wife, Channy, requested a blessing for affluence, the Rebbe told them “indulge other Jews, and G‑d will indulge you.”
This statement became a life motto for Drizin. Whenever approached for support, whether the petitioner was the dean of an institution looking to expand, the head of a household not sure where his family’s next meal would come from, or a groom needing help to cover his wedding expenses, Drizin was always ready to help, giving generously with a smile and twinkle in his eye.
Self-sacrifice was embedded in Drizin from his childhood. When he was born in 1936 in the Tarasovka suburb of Moscow, his father, Rabbi Avrohom Drizin (commonly known as “Avrohom Mayorer” after the city he was born in), had just finished a five-year stint as head of the underground network of Lubavitcher yeshivahs in the Soviet Union. Educating youngsters in the spirit of Judaism was antithetical to everything the Soviet Union stood for, and the elder Drizin was so hated by the Soviets that he made it onto the list of most wanted criminals in the Moscow area. He was nearly caught on numerous occasions and only evaded arrest through a series of miraculous occurrences.
Even after Reb Avraham Mayorer stepped down from running the underground network, he was still wanted by the authorities. Knowing that arrests were most commonly made in the dead of night, he would spend most nights away from home, frequently sleeping in the local cemetery. This persecution continued until the family’s relocation to Soviet Uzbekistan, where they spent some time in Tashkent and Samarkand. In 1946, the family traveled to Lvov to attempt to cross the border into the West. That summer, the Drizins, false Polish passports in hand, successfully boarded one of the first trains carrying actual displaced Polish citizens returning home, and left the Soviet Union forever.
Mendel and Channy Drizin.
Drizin later recalled that when the train was pulling up to the Russian-Polish border, the Chassidic escapees were terrified of being discovered. After all, who would believe that they were native Poles if they didn’t speak a word of Polish, and hardly remembered the names printed on their new passports? But Drizin’s father had prepared for that possibility. Pulling out an expensive bottle of whisky, he offered a drink to the Soviet border guards who boarded the train. Never ones to refuse a drink, the officials couldn’t turn down a second or third toast either. Before long, the bottle was finished, and the officials let the train continue on its journey with nary a glance at the passports or passengers.
Arriving in a devastated Germany, the Drizin family spent two years in the Pocking displaced persons camps, where they were joined by thousands of other Chabad Chassidim who had followed a similar path to escape Soviet Russia. Drizin would recall his stay in post-war Germany as a pleasant one—the area was nice, he was surrounded by familiar faces, and his father was finally able to walk around freely.
From Germany, the family immigrated to Israel, where Avrohom Drizin quickly resumed his old profession: running a yeshivah. He stood at the helm of the Chabad yeshivah in Lod, where the family lived for the first few months. The Drizins then moved to the newly created village of Kfar Chabad. The village, still in its infancy, had limited running water and electricity, and the residents were mainly poor immigrants from the Soviet Union.
Although the years in Israel were marked by physical poverty, for the young Mendel Drizin, they were years of spiritual wealth. He was considered one of the top students in the yeshivah, spending hours each day studying Talmudical texts and works of Chassidus. He also was the head of the newly-founded Igud Talmidei Hayeshivos, an outreach organization who brought Judaisim to radically anti-religious Kibbutzim, a novel idea at the time. Throughout his life, Drizin remembered two things from the decade spent in Israel: the overwhelming poverty, and the tutelage he received from Rabbi Shlomo Chaim Kesselman, one of the renowned Chassidic mentors of the previous generation.
Drizin, center, with friends in Kfar Chabad, Israel in the 1950s.
‘How Could I Not Help Them?’
In 1958, the Drizin family moved to the United States, settling in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y., in proximity to Chabad-Lubavitch World Headquarters. There, Drizin continued his yeshivah studies while enjoying the opportunity to receive direct guidance from the Rebbe. He later began running a network of Talmud Torah schools in the Brooklyn area.
In 1964, Drizin was introduced to Channy Premiger, and after their marriage, they moved to the neighboring community of East Flatbush to live near her parents. During the coming few years, Drizin tried his hand at various enterprises, including buying and selling scrap cloths, and then the diamond industry. Money did not come easy during those years, and Drizin never forgot his times of want.
“During his later years, it was getting harder for my father to descend the flight of stairs from his house to the front door,” recalled Dovid Drizin. “One night, the doorbell didn’t stop ringing with people of all types and stripes requesting a donation for this cause or another. My father insisted on personally going to the front door to greet and give a donation to each one. I asked him why he didn’t simply ask them to come back at a more convenient time. He told me that he remembers like yesterday when he was in a similar situation to those coming to his door, and he said: ‘How could I not help them?’ ”
After some years in the East Flatbush community, the couple, now with twin boys, asked the Rebbe for his blessing to purchase a home. The Rebbe replied in the affirmative, but encouraged them to do so in Crown Heights. Indeed, Drizin would live in that house until the end of his life.
Drizin, here in his office, was known for his charitable work, both to organizations and individuals.
A Career in Real Estate
Around the time he moved to Crown Heights, Drizin began investing in real estate. His first property led to second, and it was not long before he became successful at it. But Drizin never forgot his earlier years, nor the Rebbe’s advice that he “indulge other Jews, and G‑d will indulge you.” He became a major supporter of many projects and organizations, with his favorite being Crown Heights institutions. The local schools, yeshivahs and mikvahs knew that they could turn to him for full support.
Drizin also worked to build up the Crown Heights community physically. He took great pride in the Crown Condos complex he developed in the center of Crown Heights, which was built with large families in mind, considering it the “crown jewel” of his real estate investments.
“In terms of financial gain, there were many other projects that would have been less of a headache and brought in more money,” shared his son, Chaim Drizin. “Nevertheless, my father persevered with the project for two reason. Firstly, although my father had never before been involved in construction, the Rebbe once asked him why he didn’t build in Crown Heights. My father felt that this was fulfilling that request. He also took great pride in having a part in bringing an upscale development to the community.”
Chaim Itche Drizin, Sholom Ber Drizin and Mendel Drizen.
Notwithstanding his business responsibilities, Drizin always made sure to pray with a minyan and spend time each day learning. A familiar site in the synagogue at 770 Eastern Parkway was Drizin sitting for several hours each day praying and learning, interrupted only by a constant stream of supplicants, each of whom he’d hand a crisp $100 bill.
When interviewed once and asked for business advice, he commented, “People need to pray to G‑d and learn Torah. This sums up any advice that I can offer.”
He is survived by his wife and their children, Motty Drizin (Brooklyn, N.Y.); Chaim Drizin (Brooklyn, N.Y.); Dina Cohen (Toronto, Ontario); and Dovid Drizin (Los Angeles); in addition to grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Channy and Mendel Drizin with Rabbi Yehoshua B. (Josh) Gordon, of blessed memory, whose daughter Chaya is married to the Drizins’ son Dovid.
