Her ‘Amen’ to my kaddish was full of empathy. Now we’ll be saying it for her
Samantha Woll, president of the Isaac Agree Downtown Synagogue in Detroit, welcomes attendees to the congregation’s centennial celebration and groundbreaking on a major renovation project, Aug. 14, 2022. (Andrew Lapin/Jewish Telegraphic Agency)
Rabbi David-Seth Kirshner October 22, 2023
I only met Samantha Woll once, but it stuck with me.
We discovered we’d grown up blocks apart in the Detroit suburb of West Bloomfield, Michigan, and attended the same Jewish day school, a decade apart. We shared a passion for politics, and Judaism. I watched her read Torah beautifully in the basement of a historic church in downtown Detroit because her century-old synagogue was being renovated.
Sam never mentioned she was president of the Isaac Agree Downtown Synagogue, and I never shared that I’m a rabbi. I left wishing my congregation had greeters with smiles as wide and kindness as sincere as hers.
Six months later, I opened my phone Saturday night to discover Woll had been stabbed to death outside her home, the latest horror in two weeks of tragedy befalling the Jewish people;
I tremble each time I turn on the news of more tragedy and how close it hits to my home.
My encounter with Woll was not even six months ago. I’d been dreading my first Mother’s Day after my mom died, and decided the best place to be that weekend was at the cemetery where she was buried.
I stayed in a hotel in downtown Detroit, walking distance to Isaac Agree so I could say kaddish. I had not missed a day of reciting the hallowed mourning prayer since my mom died in October of 2022.
I arrived early that Shabbat morning. A woman with black, curly hair and a kind smile, and loads of energy, stretched out her hand to welcome me. She wore a long skirt and a simple tallit draped over her neck. She told me her name was Samantha and asked mine.
Samantha then asked where I was from. I explained that I live in New Jersey but grew up in the suburbs of Detroit. We quickly jumped into a game of Jewish geography. We’d had some of the same teachers at Hillel Day School in Farmington Hills, Michigan. We’d spent our childhoods trafficking some of the same hot-sports for food and fun. Small Jewish world indeed.
I told Sam I was in town to go to the cemetery the next day, Mother’s Day, my first without my mom. Sam offered a consoling look and said if I needed anything during my visit, to ask. I was taken with her kindness and welcoming nature to a total stranger. She sat directly behind me during the service and made sure I felt at home in the congregation.
As I recited kaddish toward the end of the service, her responses of “Amen” were pronounced, in a way that let me know of her consolation and empathy. It touched me.
After Shabbat, I looked Sam up on Google and social media. That’s when I learned she was the synagogue’s president, and also about her founding of the Muslim Jewish Forum of Detroit. I read about her work for U.S. Rep. Elissa Slotkin and on other Democratic political campaigns, as well as to bring business and residents back to downtown Detroit. It was clear she was fiercely committed to tikkun olam, transforming the world into a better place, one soul at a time.
I left the synagogue wishing my congregation had greeters with smiles as wide and kindness as sincere, as Samantha.
I completed the year of saying kaddish for my mother the day before Israel was attacked. October 6. Now, Sam’s parents and sister will utter that prayer for her.
A life that was full of potential. A heart that was welcoming and kind. Ripped from her family and community. The sadness reverberates thousands of miles away.
I pray that her bereaved family feel the same embrace of warmth and kindness during their recitation of kaddish as Samantha provided me on that Shabbat morning in Detroit.
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