My Uncle, the “770 Transplant” in Israel

By Rabbi Yechiel Wilhelm

My uncle Rabbi Avrumi Bukiet obm was one of the Rebbe’s shluchim who were sent to Eretz Yisroel during the years 5736-38.

No one would have ever placed Avrumi as a shliach in Eretz Yisroel. But he came to love the country he was sent to.

My uncle never needed recognition, as long as it happened, he was happy. During the year I spent in Kfar Chabad, I was in his home almost every day. It was a cool place to hang out and he spoke English. But he was hardly home, he was either sitting in his office working on the next sefer, teaching in Lud as mashpia or farbrenging in a Chabad house somewhere. He always picked up the phone and never said no to a speaking engagement. Though he once joked to me that everyone asked him because he didn’t charge, he was still asked and never turned anyone away. He taught high school girls, yeshiva bochurim, non-religious men and women at Chabad houses, Chasidic yungeleit in Kfar and non-Chabad chassidim in Bnei Brak. He could handle any Yid from any background, because he loved them all.

No one would have ever placed Avrumi as a shliach in Eretz Yisroel. Avrumi grew up near the Rebbe and spent many years literally sleeping on the benches in 770. He probably had a good laugh at the “dibs” that would come for Tishrei and kvutza. But he married my aunt, who hails from a prestigious Yerushalmi family, who have inhabited the holy city for generations and not many years later he was on the list chosen to join the first two groups of Shluchim to Eretz Yisroel.

My first Shabbos I spent as a bochur in Yerushalayim at my Bobbe’s home, Avrumi was there. As we walked to Shul on Friday night he took a different turn. I was surprised he wasn’t joining me in the local Chabad Shul. He told me that whenever he was in Yerushalayim for Shabbos he only davened at the Kosel on Friday night. I joined him that night as he showed me the shortcuts we could take and merited to spend yet more time with him.

The truth is, I was shocked. He was born in the USA, grew up in an extremely Chassidic home, but he was never embarrassed for his love for Eretz Yisroel, the country he was sent to on Shlichus and to visit the Kosel, Rashbi or any other holy place. It was part of his Shlichus and he accepted it with pride.

His respect and love for the entire family was real. He was from a different world, but he treated my Zaide, Bobbe and their large families with such respect, however different their minhagim or the way they dressed.

Yes, he was the American-born, extremely mekushar chossid implanted into a well-established Yerushalmi family and living in Eretz Yisroel, yet his love for the Rebbe and 770 never diminished.

He never left 770 and 770 never left him, when you saw him walking in the streets of Kfar Chabad, Bnei Brak or any other place his shlichus took him, you could see that deep inside he was still that bochur sleeping on the benches in 770. And that was a compliment.

Having had the privilege to spend many hours in his home, at first I was shocked to see the mashpia himself cooking for Shabbos. But then I got used to it, I would walk into their home on a Friday afternoon and Avrumi was there, in the kitchen, proudly telling us what he had just cooked and maybe we wanted to taste something? Shabbos meals were aways a farbrengen. He made sure everyone had a lchaim immediately after we washed and of course there were some very good jokes, but the atmosphere was pure.

Avrumi might have made himself look simple, a letz with his generous smile and unkempt appearance, but he was a huge talmid chochom. Beneath all that exterior was a person who was fluent in all the Rebbe’s sichos, maamorim and many more Chasidic books that I do not even know the name of. Furthermore, he was a huge baal nigleh. While many thought he spent his bochur years farbrenging, he was masmid and could rival any rosh yeshiva with his knowledge.

Avrumi’s farbrengens were memorable. Every word a gem. I loved how it wasn’t fake, he meant every word and never tried to patronize anyone. It was so enjoyable that I later convinced him to come twice to London to farbreng. Of course, he couldn’t say no.

Avrumi always demanded achdus. Even during trying times he always told me there is no excuse, we must be in pace with fellow chassidim. And he didn’t only speak about it, he acted, trying to bridge the differences at every opportunity, in public and in private.

Avrumi was a real mashpia to many. He guided hundreds in their personal lives, taking their phone calls at any time of day and night. And people loved him. He was just that guy that everybody loved, didn’t depend on your age, if you met him, you loved him.

The farbrengen they are having now in heaven is probably unimaginable as they welcome Avrumi. But please Avrumi, tell them that while it all looks good up there, we really need help down here and you want to come back and finish the shlichus the Rebbe gave you.

The Shluchim need their medaber.

A fund has been set up to support his family.
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