Nothing gets in her way

Three decades after her son’s killing, Chassidic mother continues to build bridges

By Dovid Zaklikowski

It is hard to stop Devorah Halberstam. Literally. When she enters a room, it feels like a storm has arrived. When she speaks, her words are quick and strong. The New York Jewish activist is referred to as a powerhouse by those who know her. But when she arrives at the ramp from the FDR Drive to the Brooklyn Bridge, she always stops.

She then pays attention to one of the 13 road signs that announce The Ari Halberstam Memorial Ramp. They commemorate the killing of her 16-year-old son on March 1, 1994.

On that fateful day, Lebanese-born terrorist Rashid Baz had intended to open fire at the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—but could not get close enough to the vehicle. Instead, he shot a van filled with Chabad yeshiva students who were part of the entourage. While three wounded students —including one with a bullet lodged in his brain— recovered, Ari Halberstam succumbed to his wounds five days later (23 Adar).

“Every time I see the signs, my heart stops,” says Ari’s mother. “I think to myself, ‘Ari, your blood is on this bridge.’”

Close to three decades later, Halberstam still advocates the importance of the signs. She is as adamant as she was back in 1995 when the signs were passed into law in a unanimous New York City Council vote. Kenneth Fisher, who served as a councilman at the time, told the New York Times: “It was [a] real statement by the Council and by the mayor that this was not simply a case of road rage. [Halberstam] was a very effective advocate for the notion that her son’s murder should be recognized for the hate crime it was.”

Halberstam says that the signs are more relevant than ever in our age of instant information and growing antisemitism.

“What happened on that day on the bridge is a symbol of antisemitism in the United States,” she explains. When people see the sign, “they Google it, and they learn what our society is capable of. It promotes that this cannot happen again.”

A voice against terror

The shooting wasn’t always seen as an anti-Jewish crime. Halberstam fought for six years to have the shooting of her son classified as a terrorist incident by the Department of Justice and FBI. She also brought the first lawsuit in the history of American jurisprudence against the manufacturer of machine guns sold in gun kits.

Her tireless lobbying made her a prominent voice against terrorism in the United States. Together with Governor George Pataki, she was instrumental in enacting the Anti-Terrorism Act of 2001, the first of its kind in New York State. She was also appointed by the governor to serve on the first New York State Commission on Terrorism.

Halberstam today serves as Chair of the Civilian Hate Crimes Review Panel of the New York City Police Department and an Honorary Commissioner for Community Safety. She frequently instructs local, state, and federal law enforcement agencies around the country, including the FBI, NYPD, state troopers, the military, and district attorneys, on the threat of terrorism. “Halberstam is a true example of the strength of our nation,” former U.S. Attorney General Michael Mukasey has said.

Joseph Demarest, who served as an assistant director of the FBI, praised Halberstam as a true fighter against terrorism. “A woman who has demonstrated an endless pursuit of justice, everlasting love for her family, dedication for victim’s rights, and patriotism for her country,” he said during an award ceremony.

As a Chassidic woman living in Brooklyn, she says her work to fight hate and antisemitism never ends.

Hate against minorities in this country is often targeted against the Jewish community, she says, and it breeds because antisemites are given a platform, whether it is coming from celebrities, sports figures, or others. “We need to shout out against it at every opportunity,” Halberstam says.

People who speak up against Jews, she says, “or any other ethnicity should be ostracized, rather than being accepted. Words matter and promoting hate will lead to bad things.”

Building from tragedy

One of the ways Halberstam is working to foster understanding and tolerance is visible following her stop on the Brooklyn Bridge. Once she concludes reciting a chapter of Tehillim (Psalms) in memory of her son and turns off her hazard lights, she drives to The Jewish Children’s Museum in Crown Heights, which is dedicated to her son.

Created in partnership with city, state and federal agencies and supporters, the museum is the largest Jewish-themed children’s museum in the United States. Located near 770 Eastern Parkway, the headquarters of the ChabadLubavitch movement, it is an interactive 50,000-square-foot facility that offers a positive perspective and awareness of

Jewish heritage.

“While there is a need to remember the Jews who were murdered throughout our history, it is tragic to see how few monuments are built in their memories,” she explained. “Jewish education, Jewish identity, and Jewish pride are the antidotes to antisemitism.”

“When a child comes to the museum,” she says, “they learn how Jewish history has formed over thousands of years. They understand that our culture is made up of traditions that are our inheritance. We teach them about our holidays, our dress, and our way of life.”

Looking back over the nearly two decades the museum has been open, “I could never have envisioned the impact that it has made,” she says. To date, over 3 million visitors have come to the museum, many of them non-Jewish. She is now embarking on adding an additional floor that will be called Ari’s Exhibit, “Sharing our past, shaping our future,” which she hopes will attract even more children and visitors.

The activist likes to say that she is a

Yankee fan through and through. Her father taught her to study, pray and be serious in her service of Hashem. “But, you also need to have fun. You play baseball, keep up with the news and wake up in the morning to 1010 WINS on the radio.”

She says her son Ari, the eldest of five children, had similar traits. “He was a good learner and spent many extra hours praying,” she says. “He was very spirited, he loved sports and wore a size 13.5 sneaker. He was humble to a fault and was also very competitive; he was a great kid,” she says.

When she talks about her son, almost three decades later after his murder, it triggers a flow of tears. “As a Jew, our response to tragedy is to build,” she says, adding that walking through the halls of the museum brings her “a huge sense of nachas” (pride and joy). But on top of that, “I feel like every visitor to the museum leaves with a piece of Ari. Ari lives on in this museum,” she says.

- Dovid Zaklikowski is an author, biographer, and archivist. His books can be found at HasidicArchives.com