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      Table of Contents

       Title Page

       Dedication

       Epigraph

       THE LETTER

       I - ROYAL GARMENTS

       PATRIARCHS AND PROGENY

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       AIR WAVES

       II - THE STRENGTH OF STONES

       DEFINITIONS AND FINDINGS

       THE GHETTO

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

       CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

       CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

       CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

       CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

       CHAPTER TWENTY - SIX

       CHAPTER TWENTY - SEVEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY - EIGHT

       CHAPTER TWENTY - NINE

       CHAPTER THIRTY

       CHAPTER THIRTY - ONE

       CHAPTER THIRTY - TWO

       CHAPTER THIRTY - THREE

       CHAPTER THIRTY - FOUR

       SOUND WAVES

       ABOUT THE AUTHOR

       Copyright Page

      We hope you enjoy this book from Abbeville Press. To write to the author or see our other titles, click here. (This link will open your device’s web browser.)

       For Bob Abrams, Publisher and Friend

       Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brass?

      —Job 6:12

       THE LETTER

      FOR YEARS THE REBBETZIN, SHAYNA BASYA, DUTIFULLY placed Postum and Aunt Jemima pancakes before the rebbe in the morning, and Yaakov Moshe Finebaum dutifully consumed them. After breakfast, the rebbetzin placed pen and paper on the rebbe’s desk; but even though he spent long hours alone in his study, the rebbe never touched them. When she encouraged him to write to their daughter, Rachel Leah, in Russia, he would nod agreeably and explain, “When the time is right.”

      There were moments when the rebbetzin thought the time might be right. In 1923, after Warren Harding died and Silent Cal Coolidge entered the White House, the rebbetzin noticed that the pen and paper had been used. But one morning, the rebbe pointed with disgust at a campaign picture in the St. Louis newspaper of Calvin Coolidge posing in an Indian warbonnet. In the background, his chauffeur and limousine waited to whisk him away. “An impostor, a fake,” the rebbe declared angrily and stalked into his study. The next morning, Shayna Basya again found the writing materials untouched.

      They remained that way until 1927, when Charles A. Lindbergh made his historic solo flight across the Atlantic. “The Spirit of St. Louis,” the rebbe mused conspiratorily, savoring the name of the heroic aviator’s craft. “Our son-in-law, Hershel Shwartzman, could fly it back here for him,” he suggested, picking up the pen. The rebbetzin didn’t respond. As far as she knew, Grisha, their son-in-law, couldn’t pilot a plane. Even if he could, Lindbergh had flown solo; there wasn’t any room in the “Spirit of St. Louis” for Rachel Leah. It made no difference, however, for the rebbe suddenly

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