THE RABBI FROM THE VIDEOS

In recent years, he has starred as a “rebbe” or rabbi in various films, but if you look at R’ Meilich Tal, a Lubavitcher from Natzrat Ilit, you would never imagine that his life story is as long and fascinating as it is. It began on an isolated farm in South Africa and continued as a life journey on an unpaved road until he got to join the Chabad family.

His white beard and smile are his trademarks. Young readers may recognize him from videos in his role as rabbi or town jester. He recently took part in a unique production that has won international awards and praise.

R’ Melech Tal, known by his friends as R’ Meilich, has become an integral part of the Chabad community of Natzrat Ilit. Only old-timers from the community remember that he did not always look like a Lubavitcher Chassid. His strong South African accent reveals that he is not from here.

He grew up on a farm in South Africa. His father was called “king of the potatoes.” It took R’ Meilich a long time until he discovered the path of Torah. His biography can fill a thick book, which, in fact, he is presently working on. His ability to describe what he experienced since his childhood and young adulthood and his special encounter with the Rebbe had me riveted for hours.

CHILDHOOD

He spent the first twenty years of his life on an isolated farm near Cradock in South Africa where he was born and raised.

“My father’s nickname among people in the farming industry was because of his extensive fields where he grew potatoes, which were sold all over the country. My father, who studied agriculture in an exclusive college in South Africa, imported special strains of melons and cucumbers from Eretz Yisroel and potatoes from Scotland. The produce on our farm was some of the best in the country.

“By the age of ten I would wake up at dawn on vacation days and with a rifle slung over my shoulder I would saddle my horse and gallop along the fences of the farm to make sure that nobody had broken in during the night. When I returned home for lunch at noon, it was after I had managed survey only a quarter of the area of our farm.”

The Tal family also had thousands of sheep, goats, geese, and chickens.

“I have fond memories of the farm in the summer months, when we would go to the melon and watermelon fields, sit under a tree, take out a knife, pick a good one and eat it. My father took great pleasure in this.”

There was no regular school in the area, so Meilich was sent to dorm in Queenstown. That first year was traumatic for him.

“The fact that I was a Jew among gentiles only exacerbated the teasing and insults I experienced there. They called me ‘skunk’ and for a long time I had to do all the jobs the other kids gave me to do. They were very violent with no compassion whatsoever. When they were bored, they made fun of me.

“As for the staff, they also took part in bullying me. There was nobody to complain to. Every complaint would bring on more attacks. One time, the older boys beat me with whips and sticks until I lost consciousness.

“All that stopped the moment I decided to take matters into my own hands. I began studying self-defense with a private teacher, and from then on, whenever someone started up with me, I gave better than I got.”

When Meilich finished school, he went on to study law at Durban University. He graduated and began working as an associate in a big law firm in Port Elizabeth.

“I soon realized I had wasted years of my life studying a profession that I didn’t like. The dishonesty and lack of justice in this profession screamed out to the heavens. The first case I dealt with was the file of a debtor whose creditors wanted him behind bars. The man was a pauper and despite this, we managed to consolidate his debts, set up a payment structure, and save him from jail. However, after a few months, I heard that the poor guy had gone to jail. When I asked why, I heard something shocking. The man was unable to continue paying the large fee payments imposed upon him by the lawyers in the office where I worked. They, who had defended him from his creditors, turned into creditors themselves, and refused to spread the payments over a longer period. When he couldn’t pay, he was jailed.

“What caused me to finally quit the legal field was a story about a couple who wanted to divorce. They came to the firm in order to divide their assets and were sent to me. I quickly saw that this couple could have many more good years together and were arguing about nonsense. Seeing this, I arranged for a meeting in their house and instead of dividing their possessions, I began mediating between them until they agreed to reconcile.

“A few weeks later, I was asked by the manager of the firm what was happening with the case. I innocently told him that I had made peace between them and they were happily married.

“He was furious. ‘This is how we make money! Why did you make peace between them?’ When he finished ranting, I said he was right and I was quitting. He was in shock and thought I was reacting emotionally. I told him it was an intellectual decision; I realized that this work was not for me. I collected my possessions and left the firm.”

DAYS OF JEWISH AWAKENING

The Tal family was very Zionistic. Meilich still remembers the Jewish encounters that his mother would organize on the farm for philanthropists and Jewish youth. The topic was always supporting Israel and the Zionist movement.

“When the Six Day War began, it was very scary. At the time, I was living in a motel whose manager was a Syrian emigrant. The night the war broke out he came over with a smile on his face and hissed, ‘Now your end has come.’ I had been taught to love Eretz Yisroel and was very frightened and upset by the news. Every night I listened on my little transistor radio that picked up broadcasts from Israel and I worriedly followed the news. In the media, the Arabs boasted heroic victories. On Kol Yisroel they spoke with restraint. When they announced that on the first day of the war Israel had destroyed the entire Egyptian air force, it sounded exaggerated. I figured it was a psychological war.”

During those fateful days, Jews got together, even those who were not religious, in shuls in South Africa and pledged large sums to Israel and the army.

“I remember that I attended a fundraising event at the shul. A rabbi from Eretz Yisroel stood there and cried. He said that every minute, an Israeli soldier was killed. People sold their cars and their homes. Some emptied out their savings accounts and handed them over to him.

“After a few days, when the media began reporting incredible victories by the IDF, that Arab came over to me looking downcast. ‘If you were able to vanquish all the Arab armies, then I guess G-d really does love you.’

“Since I had already sold my car and had given all my savings for Israel, all I had was a suitcase with a set of khakis. I went to the Jewish Agency office and said I wanted to make aliya and volunteer on a kibbutz.

“They were looking for volunteers at the time because many kibbutznikim were in the army, and it was feared that this whole industry would collapse in their absence. I agreed to go to Eretz Yisroel and contribute my knowledge and experience in farming. My Jewish boss at the wholesale business I worked at heard of my plans and gave me binoculars. ‘I’m giving you these so you will be able to look at the new vistas,’ he said emotionally.”

The Jewish Agency accepted Meilich, approved his aliya, and paid for his ticket.

“As soon as the war ended, I got on the first plane and was sent to Kibbutz Ginosar on the banks of the Kinneret. I was first set to work washing dishes in the communal dining room. I didn’t understand why they had put me in the kitchen when I could contribute so much to their farming.

“At a certain point I wanted to go back to South Africa but a good friend showed me an ad in the Jerusalem Post which said they were looking for fencing instructors to prepare Israeli kids for the Olympics. Since I loved the sport, I called the number in the ad. The person who answered the phone was Judge Amnon Carmi, the founder of the fencing club in Eretz Yisroel. He invited me to meet him in Tzfas.

“When I arrived at the club in Tzfas, they had me compete against one of his students and I impressed him and his friends. Fencing comes along with a lot of displays of respect and formal modes of conduct. In Tzfas I met Michoel Vardi who was the Israeli fencing champion. I had a match with him too and they were very enthused. That same day they brought me into their organization. I left the kibbutz and was asked to open fencing clubs across the country.”

Meilich put a lot into these clubs. Within a short time, he opened three clubs in Natzrat Ilit and during the week he would circulate among the yishuvim in the north of the country in order to do training in other clubs that operated in small yishuvim and moshavim. For a long time, he even taught at Machon Wingate. Then he joined the Fencing Academy with his friend, the fencing master and coach, Andre Spitzer.

“We were good friends. He was murdered in Munich at the Olympics, along with thirteen other athletes and coaches. It took time for me to digest that terrible news.

“After a while, I returned to South Africa where I went back to work at the wholesale store. I began taking an interest in photography, an old hobby of mine, which was then going through a breakthrough period. Advanced cameras were being developed then with many features, new models were coming on the market and I was swept up in the magical world of photography. In order to expand my understanding and knowledge of photography, I took courses and seminars with experts who taught the secrets of the trade.”

When he returned to Eretz Yisroel a few years later, he settled in Natzrat Ilit and decided to turn his hobby into his livelihood. He bought some cameras and advertised as a photographer. He remembers the early days of photography with nostalgia. His first photography studio was in his living room.

When the Yom Kippur War broke out, Meilich rushed to the training base to enlist. The young clerk snickered and sent him instead to volunteer for the Home Guard.

“Every night we would go around to intersections and paint the cars’ lights so they wouldn’t emit light. We also made sure that people did not turn on lights in their homes. We were afraid that enemy planes would enter Israeli air space and bomb those places that were illuminated.”

Following heavy losses on the various fronts, there was a dearth of soldiers and Meilich was called to the training base. He took an accelerated medic’s course and was sent to Jabal Ebani in the Sinai.

THE TURNING POINT

When R’ Meilich’s father, Chaim a”h, died suddenly, Meilich was heartbroken.

“My father was a strong man and was hardly ever sick. His passing was a shock to me and my family. I flew to South Africa and for the Shiva we sat in the house of my sister in East London. I had mixed feelings. I spent hours thinking about the meaning of life. The rabbi of the city visited in order to help us with mourning related matters and he was a nice person who was ready to listen.

“When I asked him what the Torah teaches us about life, he gave me a Code of Jewish Law and suggested I read it. I did. Many things in it interested me, especially the fact that the Torah has something to say about every moment of life. When I had questions he graciously answered them.

“Until that point, I did not know much about Judaism. I hadn’t looked into it, but at home I had learned a great respect for our heritage and traditions. If I put on a kippa in the morning because I was photographing a bris, then it remained on my head for the rest of the day. We grew up with values, even though it wasn’t a religious home. There was a deep awareness of the Jewish people and the holidays. My father put on t’fillin every weekday and we kept Shabbos and kashrus. I remember that my father insisted on keeping Shabbos and not working on it. In a country like South Africa, that means two days off because Sunday is not a work day, so it meant losing a lot of money.”

Meilich decided to keep the kippa and beard that he had grown during the Shiva until the Shloshim. At the Shloshim, he decided to keep it until the end of the year. What actually happened is that he never removed the kippa.

“The rabbi guided me in how to daven and he taught me the importance of saying Kaddish. When I returned to Natzrat Ilit, I looked for a shul where I could daven and say Kaddish. The closest shul to my house was Chabad, so I started going there.

“The people there welcomed me with open arms and the fact that I am a Chassid today has to do with the warmth and guidance I received from them.”

The next step was attending shiurim that were given in the shul and later on, committing to keeping Shabbos. His wife, who had gone to a Jewish school in Johannesburg, respected his decision and helped him in his new path.

The young Lubavitchers in the community helped Meilich and his family. After Shabbos, came tzitzis and then a hat and sirtuk. “I’ll never forget the day we kashered the kitchen. My mother, who kept kosher all her life, was coming to visit us. We kashered the kitchen and my mother could now eat with us. The Lubavitchers did the koshering and taught us the halachos about kashrus.”

GOING TO THE REBBE

By 5744, the Tal couple appeared to be full-fledged Lubavitchers, but one hurdle still stood in R’ Meilich’s way to becoming a full-fledged mekushar.

“For a number of years I did not go to 770. Chassidim urged me to go and the topic came up in every conversation and at every farbrengen I attended, but I didn’t want to. People told me about the amazing wonders and miracles, about the Rebbe’s tremendous impact, but none of this budged me from my position.

“I was afraid that after hearing all that about the Rebbe, the bubble would burst when I actually went there. I thought, the Rebbe is wise and a tremendous spiritual personality, but the Chassidim exaggerate his greatness. He is still a human being with all the limitations of a body.”

The one who gave me the biggest push to go was R’ Sholom Brook. One day, he visited R’ Meilich and gaily announced that he had taken out a loan for a plane ticket and he put an envelope down with cash.

“That was something I could not refuse. I arranged a passport and visa for the US, and a date for departure was set. But I had mixed feelings. I decided to set my concerns aside and try to connect to the enthusiasm of the Chassidim.

“I packed, and planned to stay for two weeks, from before Yud Shvat until after 15 Shvat 5744. Before I left for the airport, I went to my traditional neighbors who had a daughter and had been waiting eight years for another child. I suggested to the woman that she write to the Rebbe and I would take her letter. At first she was hesitant but she finally agreed and wrote her request.

“A minyan of Chassidim waited for me at the bus stop and we danced together, ‘Tayerer Brider.’ At that point, I began getting excited about going to 770 and seeing the Rebbe. But the ‘other side’ did all it could to mess things up. I hadn’t even sat down yet when the bus driver made a short stop and I banged into the seat in front of me. I realized I had fractured a rib. A short while later I got a headache and I felt the flu coming on. I was in great pain. There were moments when I felt that all I wanted was to cancel the trip and go home, but the side of holiness prevailed.

“I decided to overcome the pain and go on. When I arrived at the airport, I boarded a flight to Greece and from there flew to the US.

“After a number of unpleasant incidents, also from the ‘other side,’ like the anti-Semitism on the part of the policeman in the airport terminal in Greece, the man whose life I saved during the flight after he had a heart attack, and an aggressive reception on the part of the American border control police, I finally got out of the taxi outside of 770. I felt exhausted and had strong pain in my chest area. I looked at the building and recognized it from the photos. I approached the door and knocked. I knocked and knocked but nobody answered. I saw bachurim going in and out and decided I would also go in without permission. I figured the worst that could happen was they would throw me out.

“I put my suitcase on the side and saw many children standing and waiting. As I stood and pondered what to do next, I saw the door open and the Rebbe himself came out and entered the hallway. I stood within touching distance of the Rebbe. My jaw dropped in amazement. The Rebbe’s appearance and gait were royal. He went in for Mincha and I also pushed with the Chassidim. The crowding was tremendous and all I could do was watch the Rebbe. I was completely in turmoil and overcome with emotion and couldn’t open my mouth. When Mincha was over, the Rebbe returned to his room and the shul emptied except for the bachurim who were sitting and learning. I began davening Mincha as I tried to digest the uplifting experience I just had.”

When Meilich finished davening, he spoke to one of the bachurim who told him to write to the Rebbe and announce his arrival and make his requests.

“One of the requests that I wrote to the Rebbe concerned something that upset me very much. I had two children, a son and a daughter, from a previous marriage, with whom I had no contact for many years. I didn’t even know where they lived and how they were doing. Foolishly, all I asked was to hear that they were fine and safe, rather than ask to reconnect with them. I also asked the Rebbe to guide me as to where I could stay and where I could get kosher food. I submitted my letter to the secretary and went back to the big beis midrash.

“I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. ‘Meilich, what are you doing here?’ I turned around and saw a relative of the Abelsky family who knew me from Natzrat Ilit. ‘Is someone taking care of you?’ he asked and immediately realized I needed help. He took care of me and showed me the neighborhood and the different stores and filled me in on everything I needed to know.

“Throughout my stay in 770, I used my time well. I attended t’fillos with the Rebbe and attended farbrengens. Although I did not understand Yiddish, I preferred listening to the Rebbe at farbrengens without earphones that simultaneously translated what he said. The Rebbe’s voice was just so special and I felt I was connecting to him.

“Every morning I went to the secretary, R’ Klein, to ask whether there was an answer for me, but there wasn’t. I felt bad that other people who had written after me had already received answers. I felt the Rebbe had skipped over me.

“When I returned home, it was with mixed feelings. After our initial greetings, my wife told me that my mother had called from South Africa a day after I left and left a message to tell me that my older daughter surprised her by calling and telling her that they lived in another city and were doing well. I jumped up. A quick calculation showed that my daughter’s phone call happened immediately after I wrote to the Rebbe.

“A short while later, I also found out that my neighbor, who sent a letter with me to the Rebbe, was expecting a baby. This taught me that there is someone running the show.”

A COURSE TAKEN MANY YEARS EARLIER

Upon returning from the Rebbe, R’ Meilich ran a photography studio for many years in Natzrat Ilit. In recent years, after the photography business became less profitable, he changed professions and became an actor in R’ Yigal Hoshiar’s educational films and in other films which uphold the standards of tznius.

“I began as a guest actor in a few ‘Nitzotzot shel K’dusha’ films. Then R’ Yigal Hoshiar told me about a film he was producing, which would be shot in a shul in Givat HaMoreh in Afula. The film is called ‘Mishpat Tzedek,’ an amazing, professional film. I agreed to get involved. I was also part of a fascinating series called ‘Mi B’Rosh,’ in which many talented actors took part.

“When I studied law, I had an acquaintance who developed a drama course and I was encouraged by my cousin to take it, if only so that he would have enough students. I went to the first class as a favor but got caught up in the magic of drama. I went to the rest of the classes most willingly. Now I see how Hashem prepared me years ago for what I would do in the future.”

As for non-Chabad films:

“One day, I got a phone call from a movie company in Tel Aviv. They were looking for actors with beards. The Lubavitcher actor, Michoel Viegel, signed with them, and he recommended me. They looked at the Nitzotzot website and when they saw me, they wanted me for their film. They sent me the script and when I saw that the scenes were in the Torah spirit, I agreed. The producer is a baalas t’shuva who belongs to Belz and she also consulted with rabbanim every step of the way. This film won many prizes and earned favorable critiques.”

On the other hand, Meilich once signed a contract for a successful series that had to do with the lives of religious Jews in Yerushalayim. When he read the script, he realized that although most of it followed halacha, there were segments that were not so kosher and he refused to participate.

“There are no compromises in this,” he says decisively, albeit with a smile.

THE REBBE SEES ALL

R’ Meilich twice saw the Rebbe’s ruach ha’kodesh during visits to 770.

“The day before my return flight, I felt comfortable enough to get closer to the Rebbe. At the 15 Shvat farbrengen, I noticed that there was a spot near a row of older Chassidim. I stood behind a pillar as I peeked at the Rebbe.

“At the end of every sicha, they gave out cups of mashke to the crowd and while the Chassidim sang, the Rebbe scanned the participants who raised their cups to him and he nodded in response. I raised my cup and waited for the Rebbe to look at me and bless me. I had been told that when it happened, I’d feel it. But the Rebbe scanned the area in which I was standing again and again and I wasn’t sure that the Rebbe meant me. Each time I wanted to say l’chaim to the Rebbe, he looked elsewhere.

“I felt embarrassed. Why didn’t the Rebbe look at me? I thought maybe I was undeserving. Why did all the other people deserve it? Then, the Rebbe looked sharply at me. You couldn’t miss it. I felt that the Rebbe had read my thoughts. One of the bachurim standing next to me pushed me, ‘The Rebbe is waiting for you!’ I lifted my cup and said l’chaim. As soon as I did so, the Rebbe gave me a firm nod and moved on.”

The second story, according to R’ Meilich, is far more incredible.

“The day before my flight back, I wanted to see the Rebbe from up close. I stood in the hallway upstairs in front of the entrance. R’ Yitzchok Lifsh, who noticed me, asked me whether I was flying that day. When I said no, he said that only those who were flying stood there and the Rebbe blessed them. I went to leave, but the Rebbe suddenly came out of his room and I remained standing frozen in place.

“The Rebbe passed by, looked at the children, and I was the first in line. The Rebbe skipped over me and blessed the person behind me with health and good news. Then the Rebbe continued briskly down the line and returned to his room.

“The next day, the day of the flight, I stood in the same spot again. I confess that an impudent thought came to my mind. I wanted to see whether the Rebbe would skip me again or did he know that I was flying. The Rebbe came out of his room glanced at me and then looked at the children, and suddenly turned in my direction, pointed at me and blessed me with the blessing that he said to guests returning home. I’ll never forget how I felt. My legs trembled and I felt that nothing is hidden from the Rebbe.”