Aaron’s great grandparents, Mirke and Itzik Cohen, became the members of the HASIDIC movement years ago, in the late 1800s. It happened when they were still living in Belorussia that, at the time, was a part of the Russian Tsarist Pale of Settlement (the Russian Jews were forced to live there by the Royal Decree, and the exemptions were rare). In that Shtetl, everyone was somewhat related and a Hasid yet, some were more, and some were less. So, Aaron’s beliefs were inherited from the great grandparents and came together with the Jewish culture, customs, Yiddish language, and the looks. Aaron was a smallish man of 5’3 and about 100 lb., with slightly bolding, but wildly curling reddish hair, long bonny nose, dark brown eyes, and thick glasses. And, he was blessed with the long wavy payos (sidelocks) growing down almost to the shoulders. That meant something to the Hasidic Jews. That added something to the man, even a slightly built one. He was righteous. Dressed in the full Hasidic uniform of a black kaftan — a long flowing black frock coat, and a fur hat, he presented a small, but, nevertheless, an exclusive prize of the Jewish nation. Everyone knew that he belonged, and he knew it better than anyone else. He was one of the chosen ones. What made him so different from the other men? Whatever made him so different from the other men readied him as an exclusive prize. Even such a small man, in the crowd, he stood out, and that’s where his place was. He was somewhat elevated even when he was among the elevated men. There definitely was something different about him. He was noticed. Aaron was one of the chosen people, he cherished it, and was so proud of it. How often do you get to be chosen? It could happen only once in a lifetime, and not with everyone. Yet, Jews, for better or worse, were chosen by God, and God had his reasons.
The Cohen family immigrated to America in 1905, settling down in the Bronx of New York City first and moving to the Williamsburg area of Brooklyn later. This was the perfect place for the Hasidic Jews, and many called it the shtetl of Williamsburg. Where they right? Maybe, and some say yes. That was a funny name for such a prominent place and in America. To many, it was the Garden of Eden or the closest to that one could find in such short order. There, in this new shtetl, nearly everyone was a Hasid in one way or another, and many even were relatives. After all, most of these people there came from Eastern Europe directly or through Western Europe. That took somewhat longer, but the result was the same. What could you do, so you did what you could. Still, you arrived at the right place and could enjoy what was there, in America. Even if you had so little that it was mostly nothing or even less, one could appreciate that without being discriminated and pushed around. No one threatened your existence, and your children could run around free. Freedom had a different meaning. It actually existed. It resided here, in America. Yet, you needed to provide, and that could be a challenge, but you could find the way. People around mostly were friendly and, even when not, they did not turn away when you asked for help.