How I Got My First Job (and Found Myself)
- Boruch Meir "Meyer" Greenbaum
- Apr 6
- 6 min read
Updated: Apr 8
It was the year 2000. Roza and I had just returned to Los Angeles after living in Israel during the first year of our marriage. We had just welcomed our first child.
We were happy.
We were broke.
I was 23. Whatever wedding funds we had were long gone. I needed a job—
desperately.
I ran around meeting with potential employers.
One gentleman offered me a job managing the local kosher deli. It didn’t feel like the right fit, and the pay wouldn’t have covered our basic needs.
Just before Purim, I heard that Moshe Grawitzky—the legendary kosher confectioner, the Willy Wonka of Los Angeles—was looking for someone to sell kosher corporate food gifts to local Jewish business owners.
“We’ll start by making a list of names,” he said, handing me a pen and paper.
Nursing home operators. Realtors. Business owners.I was blessed to meet them all—and I managed to put away a little money.
After Purim, we regrouped to see if there was a long-term opportunity. But like the deli owner, he wasn’t in a position to commit.
With no clear path forward, I continued the search.
A Name I Didn’t Know Would Change My Life
I had grown up in Melbourne, Australia. This was the early internet era. The name “Berel Weiss” meant nothing to me—yet.
My father-in-law told me to find him at the local shul.
“He sits in the back and meets with people in a little office. Maybe he’ll give you time.”
I was nervous.
“Reb Berel… Shalom Aleichem. My name is Boruch Greenbaum. I’m Mendel Duchman’s aidim (son-in-law).”
“What do you want?” he asked, not unkindly, but directly. No wasted words.
“I was told you might be able to help me find a job…”
He motioned for me to sit. No small talk. No formalities.
Just purpose.
A few minutes later, he handed me a slip of paper.
“Go to this address. Tell them I sent you. They’ll give you a job.”
I drove to the address he’d written down. A warehouse in Commerce—gritty, unfamiliar territory. The company name on the wall: TwinMed.
I was ushered into a room where two men sat—one short and focused, the other large and intimidating. My palms were sweating. My mind raced.
The interview lasted about 15 minutes.
“I never went to college. But I did mivtzoyim, I was on shlichus in Hong Kong, I can talk to people. I had a good education in Australia. Got into law school. Became a Rabbi. My father’s a doctor—I don’t know anything about business, but I’m ready to learn. Just give me a shot.”
I spoke too fast. Said too much. Tried too hard.
“We’ll think about it,” they said. “We’ll get back to you.”
I left unsure.
Roza asked me if I got the job.
“They said they’d think about it,” I told her.
“When will they let you know?”
“They didn’t say.”
Radio Silence. Then, a Tipping Point.
A week passed. Nothing.
Then I ran into Berel Weiss again at shul.
“How’s it going at the job?” he asked, while sorting his daily tzedakah piles of coins and bills.
“I haven’t heard from them,” I admitted.
“What?! You didn’t hear back from them?”
He stood up, walked briskly into his office, and closed the door.
A few minutes later, he emerged.
“You got the job. You’re starting today. Go now—they’re expecting you. Hatslocho (good luck).”
“What’s Your English Name?”
At TwinMed, the first question I got was:
“What’s your English name?”
“I don’t have one,” I replied. “My name is Boruch.”
“That’s not going to work,” they said. “No one’s going to pronounce the ‘ch’ in Boruch. Goyim can’t say it.”
“Do you have another name?”
“My second name is Meir. Like Bayer.”
“Perfect. You’re going to be called Meyer, like Buyer, or Meyer Lansky. the mobster”
He turned to the receptionist:
“Nancy, this is Meyer. Show him to his office. He’s going to be in charge of purchasing. Starting today.”
My stomach dropped. Something felt… off. But I ignored it.
I was a new father with bills to pay.
This was my shot.
A Father's Voice I Couldn’t Yet Hear
I called my parents in Australia.
They’d supported us during our first year of marriage. I was excited to finally give them good news.
“I got a job!” I told them. “I’m working in purchasing at a medical supply company.”
“That’s wonderful,” my father said. “What company?”
“TwinMed.”
“And what’s ‘Meyer’?”
Pause.
“That’s what they’re calling me. They said it would be easier in business.”
There was a longer pause on his end now.
“Boruch Meir is your name. It’s who you are. It carries blessing. It carries light. Why would you change it?”
“You don’t get it, Ta,” I told him. “You’re not in business. This is what businesspeople do…”
I said it with confidence I didn’t fully feel.
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
I hung up. But the conversation stayed with me.
Years Later, the Truth Emerges
TwinMed grew. Expanded. Took off.
One day I sat with Shlomo Rechnitz, the co-founder. He asked, “Do you remember the day you started?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Well, here’s something you don’t know.”
“We had no intention of hiring you. Our main purchaser had just left us to work for your father-in-law's beauty products company, leaving us high and dry. We were pissed. There was no chance we were calling you back.”
“So what changed?” I asked.
“What changed? Berel Weiss changed. That morning, we got a fax from Golden State Healthcare, signed by Berel Weiss, terminating our supply contract. He was a huge customer. We used his name to borrow money. We called him, panicked. ‘What’s the problem?’
And he screamed: ‘I sent you a yungerman for a job and you turned him away? Go screw yourselves!’ Then he slammed the phone.”
“That’s why we hired you.”
I was stunned.
Berel Weiss didn’t know me. He owed me nothing. But he made a call that changed the course of my life. That opened the door to a 25-year career in healthcare.
Coming Full Circle
This story came rushing back to me just this past Shabbat.
I was sitting at Kiddush with Reb Berel’s grandson, a dear friend who I have only come to know in recent years. I told him I had a story about his grandfather—one I’d be sharing on my blog.
It was the Shabbat before my 49th birthday, and also the Shabbat before Pesach—Shabbat HaGadol.
A time for reflection.
A time for good resolutions.
A time for freedom.
On Pesach night, we recall how our ancestors were slaves in Egypt for 210 years—and yet they held on to three things:
Their names, their language, and their dress.
It hit me: I had let go of my name.
I had walked away from “Boruch Meir”—the name I was given, the blessings I carried.
And so, on the cusp of this milestone, I made a decision.
I am reclaiming my name: Boruch Meir Greenbaum. BMG.
Boruch: Blessing
Meir: One who brings light
It took me years to understand what my father meant.
Years to hear the quiet truth in his voice.
Years to realize that our names aren’t just labels—they’re missions.
A Final Blessing
We each carry names, roles, and identities—sometimes given to us, sometimes chosen.
May this season of freedom bring you back to yours.
May you walk proudly with the light you were meant to carry.
And may you find freedom from whatever shackles you.
With blessing,
Boruch
Glossary of Terms
For readers unfamiliar with some of the Hebrew or Yiddish words used:
Aidim – Son-in-law
Boruch (Baruch) – Hebrew for “Blessed”
Ches (ח) – A guttural Hebrew letter difficult to pronounce in English
Davening – Jewish prayer
Goyim – Non-Jews (Gentiles)
Hachloto Tova – A good resolution or positive personal commitment
Haggadah – The text read at the Passover Seder recounting the story of the Exodus
Hatslocho – Success (a blessing or good wish)
Kiddush – A communal gathering after prayer, often with food and drink
Lashon HaKodesh – The Holy Tongue; Biblical Hebrew
Meir – Hebrew name meaning “One who illuminates”
Mivtzoyim – Chabad outreach campaigns encouraging Jewish practice
Pesach – Passover, the Jewish holiday commemorating the Exodus from Egypt
Reb – An honorific, akin to “Mister,” used for respected Jewish men
Shabbos (Shabbat) – The Sabbath, the Jewish day of rest from Friday evening to Saturday night
Shlichus – A mission, often referring to religious outreach work
Shul – Synagogue
Ta – An affectionate way to say “Dad”
Tzedakah – Charity or righteous giving
TwinMed – The medical supply company where Meyer was hired
Yungerman – A young married Torah scholar
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