Florida building collapse hits close to home

When South African expat Melissa Skuy moved to Miami from Johannesburg seven years ago, she never expected a scene of disaster and destruction on her doorstep. But waking up on the morning of 24 June, she was told of apocalyptic scenes in the neighbourhood next door, where a 12-storey apartment building simply collapsed at 01:30, with most of its residents asleep inside. More than 150 people were still missing at the time of going to press.

“Surfside is close to us,” Skuy told the SA Jewish Report from Florida this week. “We frequently go to shul there, and we often go for walks along the beach where Champlain Towers [the collapsed building] is located. This is a beautiful area, and many Jewish people live there.

“I was in complete disbelief [at the news]. One parent from my kids’ school said that five of her relatives were missing. The harsh reality dawned that many were missing in the collapse. It soon became apparent that the majority were Jewish. More parents from my kids’ school started saying that their doctor, dance teacher, or friend was missing. Another parent is a fireman and has been working non-stop [at the scene],” she says.

“I think the image that stands out is a photo of a child’s bunk bed hanging from one of the destroyed apartments. That really brought the horror of the tragedy home. As the days go by, the hopes of finding the missing people fade, and there is a terrible sense of sadness. One of the saddest things I heard was how some family members were calling out their relatives’ names [at the site] in the hope that they would respond.”

For two Johannesburg families, the tragedy hit too close to home. Rabbi Mendel Lipskar of The Shul at Hyde Park is the brother of Rabbi Sholom D. Lipskar, who founded The Shul of Bal Harbour. His shul is about 1.6 km north of the building that collapsed.

Rabbi Mendel’s wife, Rebbetzin Mashi Lipskar, says the disaster is “unprecedented and unimaginable”. Their two sons, Zalman and Rabbi Aaron Lipskar, also live in Surfside. Rabbi Aaron works closely with Rabbi Sholom. Their daughter, Sarah Dworcan, works at the Palm Beach Synagogue, about two hours away from Surfside. Dworcan’s neighbour happens to be South African expat Sarah Gordon, who has volunteered at the kosher kitchen that has been set up at the disaster site, serving 4 000 meals to families and rescue workers over the past few days.

“I know people from the shul who are missing,” says Gordon. “There is a lot of chaos at the scene – fire, smoke, heat, and rain. There was a lot of hope at first, but now the atmosphere is heavy. People are watching and waiting.”

“Everyone is connected and everyone is traumatised,” says Lipskar. “The Shul [of Bal Harbour] is like a little city. There is an Ashkenazi shul, a Sephardi shul, and many programmes. Most of the people in the collapsed building came to The Shul.”

Lipskar says she cannot say how her brother-in-law is doing, with so many of his congregants lost or missing. “He’s traumatised. He’s trying to help, to alleviate pain, to be there. People are trying to hold onto a thread of sanity. No one is sleeping; no one can go on normally. Many are looking to him as a man of G-d.

“But, as my son said, this is going to stretch on. And it’s that terrible not knowing [the fate of people in the building]. When you know, at least you can mourn and move on. But the not knowing is horrifying. My son tells me the area has been turned into a military zone.”

Bassie Medalie, also in Johannesburg, is praying for the safety of her machatonim (her daughter’s in-laws) Itty and Tzvi Ainsworth. They moved to Surfside four months ago to be closer to their only daughter. “We have spent a lot of time in Surfside with family. Everyone knows everyone. It’s a small, very Jewish community,” says Medalie. Her sister, Chani Lipskar, is married to Rabbi Sholom. “They introduced us to everyone,” she says. Now, they wait for word on what happened to the many precious people they met.

“Everyone is in tremendous pain while still hopeful,” says Medalie. “As Jews, we hold on to hope. Hashem can make miracles.” She’s empowered by the Rebbe’s message to “do acts of goodness and kindness to heal a broken world”. She says the outpouring of kindness and love in response to the tragedy has been staggering, and she’s grateful for the support.

Lipskar says her brother-in-law and Rebbetzin Chani have been there for 50 years as Chabad-Lubavitch shlichim, building a thriving community from the ground up. “They know whole families, from the grandparents to the grandchildren. Being Chabad, this isn’t a ‘job’, these are friends, fellow Jews, people with whom we all have a personal connection.

“Because we have three children living there, we have been there so many times,” she says. “We’ve walked the streets, connected with people, given lectures. We are close to many South Africans who moved there.” People that they sat next to in shul or spent Shabbos with are now missing.

Before Shabbos, she wrote to a friend who lives next to the disaster site. Her friend responded, “It has been a long, hideous day. The number of times Shabbos meals were shared, walking to shul together, taking our children to the beach or my dog for a walk [with people from Champlain Towers]. It was my community for 21 years, and it’s difficult to see and wait to hear about the people still missing. There are whole families that have just disappeared.”

“Many people in the community feel helpless and want to assist. The response of the Jewish community has been amazing and heartwarming,” says Skuy. “There’s a sense of purpose, camaraderie, and community. So many are volunteering, and huge amounts of goods are coming in. But there are very difficult things. There is frustration that the rescuers can’t find people. It’s very hard to hear about the way the building collapsed. There is also talk of how carefully emergency workers have to work through the debris.”

There have been small miracles amidst the darkness. One community member told Lipskar about a family that moved to Champlain Towers about six months ago. On Wednesday night, the mother was out late to mark the end of the fast day [17 Tammuz], her grown children were sleeping, and her husband was away. She got home at 01:00, and felt tremors in the building. She woke her kids up, and they ran out of the building. On the way out, she told the person at the front desk that she didn’t feel safe. They left, and 30 minutes later, the building came down.

“Our community has joined in prayer from the very first moment,” says Lipskar. In times of crisis, “don’t be silent against Hashem. We have a responsibility to react. As a human being, a Jew, a member of society, we must respond.” She’s grateful that in recent years, tehillim groups have grown on WhatsApp. “People who didn’t even know about tehillim are now taking part and praying together. They don’t necessarily know the person needing help, but they pray for them. It’s a source of incredible strength. That unity reverberates around the world.”