There has been a gap in my twice-monthly “Desks”, and I have been asked about the cause. So, for both of you who asked, and everyone else, let me relate this most unsettling experience.
I was hacked!
This is not the first time something like this has happened to me. A number of years ago, a letter was sent from me to about 100 of my closest friends, along with other individuals who had the misfortune of being in my address book. It was a plea for help from London where I had been mugged, and for a mere $150 I could get home. Obviously, no one sent the money. I assume that they all knew it was a scam. But this hacking was much worse.
It started when I could not open my texts. Since no ten-year-old computer whiz was available, I called Geek Squad. They know what they are doing. Their absolute confidence that they could solve the problem reassured me. Two hours later I got the news. The good news was that I could now open my texts—they had cured me of the virus—mazel tov. The bad news was that the virus had encrypted all of my texts—turned them into texts that I could not read, nor could anyone else. I could not communicate with anyone until I had been cured.
As I was retyping cue sheets and other tools of my trade, I thought about my great-grandfather. He came to America as an old man, speaking only Yiddish. My father used to tell me how they would walk to services together, and the elder would smile and nod to all the people he met without knowing what they said and without being able to talk to them.
We take the ability to communicate for granted—until we lose it.
One of the most touching experiences I ever had happened almost 40 years ago—and being encrypted reminded me of it. I was the Executive Director of the Bureau of Jewish Education in Sacramento, California. As such, I ran the Shalom Day School. I met the mother of one of my teachers. The mother had early onset Alzheimer’s. She was in her early 50’s, in wonderful health, and sat and smiled. When someone spoke to her, she nodded. We had no idea what she knew, what she thought, what she understood. Was there anything she wanted to say? We would never know.
I do not mean to equate having my documents encrypted with being old in a foreign country with a foreign language you can neither understand nor speak. Nor would I equate it with horrible dementia, especially combined with good health.
What I would say is that we must value those gifts we do have, even when we think of them as simple. Our ability to communicate with others is special. It is only through this that we express our love and caring and respect. Use the gift of communication. Use it wisely.
B’Shalom
Rabbi Stanley Halpern