THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD: The Murder Of Leiby Kletzky

Which X-Men mutant do I most closely resemble?

Funny you should ask; the answer is none at all! They’d need to make a new one: OFFENDAR, the man who’s physically impossible to offend.

I can laugh at EVERYTHING: my failures, my fears, my ugliness; rape jokes, aids humor, even Gilbert Gottfried making fun of the Holocaust.

But the story of Leiby Kletzky is my motherfucking kryptonite.

Two evenings ago, on Wednesday, July 13th, my wife and I were supposed to be having a night alone. We had left the kids with Grandma and planned to go out, get drunk and remember that we liked each other’s company.

On Wednesday morning though, the story of Leiby Kletzky’s kidnapping, murder and dismemberment had turned our stomachs, and as we learned more details throughout the day, it became impossible for us to enjoy ourselves.

We were sick with revulsion, shock and fear; We live two miles away from where Leiby was kidnapped and we too have an eight-year-old son.

Instead of going out, we did what any reeling, hypnotized couple does in 2011: We sat on the couch with laptops. With the TV news on in the background, we scoured the web for every new detail of this story, torturing ourselves like it was the night after 9/11.

My wife, the saner of us, soon grew exhausted. Our useless session had gone way past the point of reason and had approached the cusp of depravity.

As usual, I couldn’t stop myself and went too far: Surfing aimlessly, I was nothing more than a terror-porn addict, scrounging the tubes for another hit.

BLOOP

That’s when a friend of mine, another dad, shot me an Instant Message:

“We on or off for Union Square tomorrow? Or you gonna bail last-minute in typical Leo fashion?”

While I should have been grateful for the distraction, instead I hijacked the interaction to lay my trip on him. I ignored his question and changed the subject completely:

“How fucked up is that thing with the Hasidic kid?”

“I know.”

Then he paused for a few seconds, and wrote:

“Gotta admit though…”

Pause.

“… the fact that they’re Hasids kind of dehumanizes them and makes me less scared, you know?”

My face turned red. I didn’t reply or even start typing — he didn’t deserve to be reassured by broken silence. Even the non-committal chat status of “Ben Leo has entered text” was too good for him.

In about eight seconds, he continued:

“That was a terrible thing to say, but when they don’t look like you and come from a totally different culture…”

He wasn’t doing it for show or to seem outrageous; he wasn’t joking — there was no one there to laugh. It was one of those moments where you instantly downgrade a relationship.

Now listen: Fucked-up jokes are the lifeblood of my friendships — I’m OFFENDAR — but no one I considered a close friend could actually feel this way.

And don’t call me a hypocrite; I’m not going to front and say that I can relate to Hasidic Jews. In the 35 years I’ve been a New York Jew, I’ve had about six positive experiences with Hasids. The rest of the time I’ve been condescended to, ignored and dismissed as a mayonnaise-loving goyasha-wannabe.

I’ll even admit that on the streets of NYC, it’s well known that Hasids are on average the meanest race of New Yorker — and they’re tied for first with off-the-boat, Mott Street Asians for Most Dismissive and “Fuck You, I Got Mine”-ness.

But with Hasids ripped raw from this tragedy, after they’ve lost a CHILD in such a manner… what kind of person — what kind of parent! — could be anything short of devastated by this story? And who would say something so callous? It boggled my mind.

As I went back to stalking the Internet for more horrible details, I found that I couldn’t shake my friend’s thought.

There was something obliviously brave about uttering his sentiments out loud. If we’re honest, we’ll realize that it reflects a greater, tragic truth:

New York’s Hasids ARE an isolated community. It’s not just a xenophobic figment of a racist’s imagination. The community actually does take great pains to separate themselves from the rest of the city.

When I looked past my disgust for my friend, this perspective made me notice other aspects of the story and I saw them in a shifted light:

1. The little boy’s parents didn’t call 911. They called a local Jewish community patrol.

A community patrol? Really?

I’ve always been disturbed by the sight of private Hasidic ambulances, but a community patrol to find a kidnapped boy? Even when the shit hits the fan? To me, that’s only one step above relying on prayer.

A squad of ragtag Jews with walkie-talkies have NOTHIN’ on the tax-funded, FBI-informed NYPD who ultimately cracked this case.

2. It’s not irresponsible for the parents to have let their kid walk halfway home alone, because that’s their culture. It’s insular, 99.9% Jewish, so therefore it must be safe.

WHAT? This is New York City on planet Earth! Assume there are maniacs on every corner!

The parents weren’t irresponsible, but this is insane, insular, cult-like behavior.

3. This community is trained and trains their kids to only trust their own kind.

“If you’re lost or in trouble, go to a Jew.”

This poor kid didn’t know not to get into a stranger’s car because the stranger was another Jew! The fact is, I’m sure he would have known not to get into the car with a black man.

—

Why do Hasids live this way? Is their self-segregation an unfortunate byproduct of the Holocaust, a lingering feeling that they can’t trust the rest of humanity because of its past atrocities?

Yes, but this behavioral reaction pre-dates the Holocaust by about 5,000 years.

Fundamentalist Jewish communities have always gone to great lengths to isolate themselves in order to preserve their way of life; that’s why today, they’re New York’s own Amish.

If people who didn’t look like you were trying to kill you for 5,000 years, you’d eventually stop trusting those people. It’s as natural and tragic as dehumanizing someone who looks like they’re from another world.

It’s a horrible story with a horrible end, but we’re not going to let this poor kid die in vain. We’re going to teach our children the truth: There are good people and psycho assholes around EVERY corner, and there’s no physical appearance or physical boundary that can warn you of the difference.

Shit, it’s a teachable moment for all of New York’s kids, and maybe for the rest of us, a moment to learn.

RIP Leiby Kletzky
Shabbat Shalom

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