The Spy Who Sat Behind Me
- Boruch Meir "Meyer" Greenbaum
- Jul 28
- 5 min read
A True Story About Espionage, Divine Providence, and the Stranger Behind Me in Shul
Editor’s Note: My reader base is diverse, and while many may not be familiar with the nuances of traditional Jewish life, I want to retain the authenticity of the experience. The glossary at the end is there to help with unfamiliar terms. Sometimes, the only way to do justice to a story is to let it breathe.
He wasn’t davening.
Well, not seriously. He wore a kippah, but it looked like it didn’t belong, like it had been borrowed from the glove compartment for the sake of formality. No siddur in hand. Just sat a few rows behind me in shul, arms folded, cracking jokes with someone from the old neighborhood.
Loud. Disheveled. Shirt and slacks in a sea of Kapotes. Looked like he wandered in from a deli counter.
He talked nonstop through davening.
Ten years ago, I would’ve been annoyed.
But life has mellowed me. And maybe, just maybe, I was intrigued.
I’d never seen him there before.
Most of the mispallelim were buttoned-up, murmuring Shemonah Esrei with gravity. He, on the other hand, looked like he was waiting for a punchline.
I smiled and said hello. He raised an eyebrow, like who even talks to strangers in shul anymore? I asked his name.
He told me.
And then, somehow, one story led to another.
At first, I didn’t believe him.
The things he was saying were so outlandish, so wildly implausible, I assumed he was either messing with me or mistaking his life for a screenplay.
But then, a few days later, he sent me a manuscript.
Pages and pages detailing the kind of missions, names, and meetings that don’t make it into textbooks. He swore me to secrecy. "This can’t be shared. Some of it could still compromise state secrets."
I believed him.
And then I interviewed him. A long, raw, astonishing conversation. The kind that shifts your axis.
Turns out this man, this guy with the mismatched kippah and sarcasm, had lived through (and helped shape) some of the most dramatic episodes of 20th-century history.
He was a spy. An asset. A man behind the Iron Curtain.
He worked for the U.S. government while posing as a research engineer. Traveled to the USSR dozens of times. Flipped Soviet officials, including a member of the Supreme Soviet.
He once got a commercial flight turned around mid-air over Soviet airspace... because they forgot to throw him a birthday party.
He sang niggunim drunk with Russian scientists in a sauna. Slammed a classified safe on his hand to avoid getting caught with a microcamera. Gave U.S. intelligence the location of SS-16 rockets in Iraq. Helped open a Russian-American joint tech center under McDonnell Douglas. And quietly disappeared back into civilian life.
No awards. No headlines. No books on bestseller lists.
Just a guy in shul.
But that’s not even what stayed with me most.
It was what he told me about the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
Before his first trip to Moscow in the '70s, a friend told him, "You should write to the Rebbe. Let him know where you're going."
He did.
The Rebbe wrote back with a directive: "Put on tefillin. Say the morning brachos. And each morning, push aside a few kopeks. When you land back in the West, give them to the first Jew with a pushke you see."
Sure enough, coming off the plane in London, he saw a man in a black hat collecting tzedakah. "Are you Lubavitch?" he asked. "No," the man replied. "But we all hold by Lubavitch."
He handed over the kopeks.
Years later, on his way back from another mission, he stopped by 770.
He walked past the Rebbe who handed him a dollar.
Two steps later, Rabbi Klein stopped him. "The Rebbe wants to see you again."
He turned around.
The Rebbe looked at him and said: "Give this dollar to Chaya Yenta."
His wife’s name.
A name the Rebbe had heard once, ten years prior, on a kvittel.
What struck me most about the whole encounter wasn't the spycraft or the vodka-drenched secrets. It was the fusion of two worlds that aren't supposed to meet:
The world of defense contractors, espionage, and silent wars...
...and the world of hashgacha pratis, kopeks, and the Rebbe remembering his wife’s name.
He wasn't a frum guy. But he was a shaliach, whether he knew it or not.
Some people are dispatched by the Pentagon. Others are dispatched by the Rebbe.
Some, apparently, by both.
I walked away from that conversation thinking about how many other people I must have overlooked.
How many lives I pass by because they don’t look the part.
How many messengers wear New Balance sneakers and eat herring straight from the container.
We live in a world where identity is curated, branded, sharpened into soundbites. But sometimes, the real giants are sitting quietly a few rows behind you, waiting to be asked their name.
Or maybe not waiting at all.
But still worth asking.
Shabbat Shalom
ThinkGood. BeGood. DoGood.
Glossary
Shmoneh Esrei – The central silent prayer of Jewish liturgy, traditionally recited while standing in stillness and deep focus.
Davening – Yiddish term for praying, typically used in Orthodox Jewish communities.
Shul – Yiddish word for synagogue.
Kippah – Skullcap worn by Jewish men as a sign of reverence.
Siddur – Jewish prayer book.
Capote – A long black coat typically worn by Chassidic Jews during prayer or on Shabbat.
Mispallelim – The congregants actively engaged in prayer.
Lubavitch / Lubavitcher Rebbe – A Chassidic movement known for Jewish outreach and education. The Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, was its leader and is revered for his spiritual insight and global influence.
Kvittel – A note with a personal request or prayer, typically handed to a Rebbe for spiritual intercession.
Farbrengen – A Chassidic gathering centered around spiritual teachings, storytelling, singing, and shared inspiration.
Tefillin – Leather boxes containing Torah verses, strapped on the arm and head during weekday morning prayers as a sign of devotion.
Brachos – Blessings; in this context, morning prayers of gratitude recited daily.
Pushke – A small charity box for collecting donations to help those in need.
Niggunim – Wordless melodies that convey spiritual emotion, often sung at Chassidic gatherings.
Hashgacha Pratis – The concept of divine providence—that every detail in the universe is orchestrated with purpose.
Shaliach – Literally “messenger.” In Chabad, a shaliach is an emissary sent to spread Jewish awareness, Torah values, and spiritual connection.
Rebbe’s Dollar – A powerful tradition in Chabad where the Rebbe would hand out dollar bills to individuals to encourage them to give to charity, transforming each interaction into an act of spiritual purpose.
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