When I took a sabbatical in 1979-1980 to go to Eretz Yisrael for seven months, Rabbi Morrow and Ethel surprised us with a seudas predia (goodbye party) attended by friends and family. Truthfully, I hadn’t realized that anyone cared about my leaving, since it was only going to be for seven months. But that was the kind of person he was. It was important to both him and his wife to let us know they cared.
Sholom Morrow was a mivakesh (seeker) who was always excited to speak with others about Torah and who always enjoyed hearing a new chiddush. In fact, he had no qualms learning bechavrusa with people who were half his age and he could be seen every night learning in the Bais Hamedrash of Flatbush, of which he was one of the founding members and its president. In line with the Mishnah in Avos he was a real chacham, learning from anyone and everyone. He also had a way of saying things with a twist of humor that made one realize how precious life and Torah were to him.
My son once had the temerity to ask him why – though he respected and had high praise for those who were moser nefesh to learn the Daf Hayomi – he maintained his own sedarim in Talmud Bavli and did not learn Daf Hayomi. He explained that he had tried it once and got midway through Mesehcta Shabbos before realizing it was not his style or in his spiritual DNA (kochos hanefesh) to move through a daf at such a quick pace. He humbly expressed his need to spend more time going through a daf with Rashi, Tosafos, and the mifarshim. Then he clinched it by wryly observing, “After all, you’ve got to live a little.”
That remark was typical of Rabbi Morrow and a life lesson my son still fondly remembers. But that was the way he lived. For example, he had a shiur he used to give on Shabbos afternoons that went through several mesechotos over the span of close to 30 years. But it was that first mesechta, Arachin, which took him and his shiur almost ten years to learn, that gave me insight into how one might “live a little.” For Rabbi Morrow, delving deeply into a Rashba and Ritva was the epitome of true living; rushing through that was something he could not allow himself to do.
The Flatbush community and especially the Bais Hamedrash of Flatbush have lost a manhig who was wise, soft spoken, humble, and unassuming. He was an old-timer who took the teachings of Rav Hutner and made them his own; a ben Torah who after leaving the yeshiva made sure the yeshiva never left him. In a word: irreplaceable.
The clock he had hanging by his bed in the Chaim Berlin dorm so many years ago seems to have served him well. He taught others by his example to “live a little” and to use the time allotted to them for Torah, avodah, and gemilas chesed.
May his name – Sholom – remind us of his life and legacy: always working toward sh’leimus ha’adam.
Yehi zichro baruch.