How could I not write an article about Moish Inker. Our history begins when he was 18 and came to work for my father (Rabbi Sholom Klass) in his printing shop, on the linotype machine. Soon after, this was interrupted by his being drafted into the U.S. Army. When his tour of duty ended, he came back to work. This was long before The Jewish Press existed. My father had a printing press and linotype machines and he printed shoppers and small newspapers and a newspaper of his own, The Brooklyn Weekly (later The Brooklyn Daily). When I was a young girl, I would love my occasional visits to the office. I found it exciting and always went to the second floor and Moish would print my name out on a slug from his linotype machine. Seven-year-old me was so proud to show this to all my schoolmates.
They were a team, Victor, Julius, Izzy and Moish. And downstairs was the famous Arnie Fine. When my father started The Jewish Press, Moish was an immediate fan and dedicated employee. He spoke often about how it felt to work for my father; a minyan every day for Mincha, never had to worry about early Fridays and Jewish holidays and a short dvar Torah every day. I remember my father saying to my mother that he especially valued Moish because he was shomer Shabbos and dedicated to his work.
Moish worked for us for over 40 years, and he often joked much later in life that if we hadn’t computerized our printing, he’d still be working on the linotype for The Jewish Press.
He married Harriet and their marriage was truly made in Heaven. They adored each other to the very end of their 62 years together. When Moish was 88 he and Harriet made aliyah to Israel. There is a picture of them that says “Life Begins at 88.” By that time 2 of their 3 children lived in Israel. They helped their parents pick Beit Tovay Ha’Ir and their lives were enriched. Morris, as he was now called, was at every minyan 7 days a week. He enjoyed learning Gemara in English and one of his favorite lecturers was Rabbi Aschi Dick.
Moish would come to the weekly parshat hashavua class by Rabbi Dick 20 minutes before it started, sitting right up front. When the class was over, he would beam and say to me, “WOW, wasn’t he wonderful?” (I agreed). He was liked by everyone and his smile was always on his face.
When I moved to Beit Tovay Ha’Ir, Moish and Harriet were among the first to welcome me, and they invited me to see their apartment. He showed me a book he had written about his life, and of course it has a part about my father and The Jewish Press. And then I had a surprise. In their bedroom one entire wall was papered with the front pages of The Jewish Press. These front pages celebrated the milestones of his children. I asked Harriet how she felt about this wall and she said, if he’s happy, she’s happy.
When Harriet wasn’t well, Moish was devoted to her. Last year when she passed away, he was bereft. His wonderful children were at his side and they helped him through his grief. And Beit Tovey Ha’Ir became even more of a family than it even had been.
Two weeks ago, when out walking, he fell and had a break. He came back from the hospital a week later. I went up to see him. He was in a lot of pain, but he still smiled at me and we spoke of when he would get better. That was Moish – Morris; he always smiled and always wanted the other to feel good. We were all sure he would get better and celebrate his 98th birthday just 1 month away, but Hashem had other plans and he returned his beautiful soul just 2 days later.
I went to the shiva and reminisced with his daughter Sharon (Klein), and his sons, Steven and Yitz. We agreed that 10 days of suffering was a gift from the Almighty. And he lived to see nachas from his 10 grandchildren and 9 great-grandchildren.
One of the rabbis who came to the shiva said that when a person goes up to Heaven, it is asked about him, “What do the people say about this man (or woman)?” About Moish Inker, everyone loved him and only good could be said about him. May his memory be a blessing.