ROCHESTER — Charlie Cytron-Walker, the Texas rabbi hailed as a hero after hurling a chair at an armed terrorist, helping himself and two others escape a hostage situation, was a classmate of Michelle Werner, the rabbi of B’nai Israel Synagogue in Rochester, when both attended rabbinical school in Jerusalem.
“I am convinced that the resolution of the (hostage crisis) and Charlie’s walking out of it is because of who Charlie is,” said Werner, who calls Cytron-Walker “one of my dearest friends.”
Cytron-Walker and members of Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville, Texas, were in the midst of an 11-hour hostage crisis when the gunman became increasingly belligerent and threatening.
Cytron-Walker waited for the right moment before throwing the chair at the assailant, Malik Faisal Akram, giving himself and the two others the time to escape.
Cytron-Walker, who had welcomed the man into the synagogue with a cup of tea before the man brandished his gun, likely saw the warning signs.
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Contributed / Rabbi Michelle Wer
At one point during the siege, Akram ordered the three people to their knees, according to one of the hostages, Jeffrey Cohen. Instead, Cohen said he rose up in his chair, moving his head and mouthing “no.”
After Cytron-Walker and the others fled, members of the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team rushed in and fatally shot Akram.
Werner said she has seen media reports where the FBI has fulsomely praised Cytron-Walker for being “calm” and “collected” during the crisis, but “I know about his humanity.”
Werner was a first-year rabbinical student in 2001 in Jerusalem when she got to know Cytron-Walker, who goes by “Rabbi Charlie” to his congregation.
It was in the midst of the Second Intifada in 2001, when numerous suicide bombings were taking place that summer. When a bomb exploded in Jerusalem, Werner’s classmates would huddle in Cytron-Walker’s apartment to make sure everybody was OK.
“We were on our way to the campus for an early morning prayer service (one time), when a suicide bomber blew up,” Werner recalled. “We had to check and make sure where everybody in the group was. Charlie and his wife lived very close to me.”
Last Saturday, Werner had arrived at Mayo Clinic when she got a call from a friend, telling her that Charlie had been taken hostage. After returning home, Werner sat in a room and followed the news on her computer for the next five hours, clicking every 15 seconds for updates.
Throughout the ordeal, Werner and her former classmates stayed in contact with each other via Facebook. And when news broke that Charlie and the other two had escaped, Werner’s phone blew up “from this network of friends that had been caring for each other.”
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A man with a warm, welcoming smile, Cytron-Walker has told the media that his participation in multiple active shooter and security courses was what ultimately saved him and the other two hostages.
“We are alive today because of that education,” he told CNN.
Many go through mandatory active-shooter training, never imagining that they might have to use the training in a real-life event. But that’s not true with Jewish people, said Werner.
“You don’t go through (training) thinking, ‘this will never happen’ if you’re Jewish,” Werner said. “This is not an abstraction for us.”
Werner said the hostage-taking incident involving her friend was the latest attack on Jewish people. She recalled the night after the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting four years ago in which 11 people were killed and six wounded, her sanctuary overflowed with 600 concerned people.
“This is not different,” she said.
Werner said her synagogue has never undergone active-shooter training, but her board may choose to discuss the possibility in the future.
A day after the hostage crisis, Rabbi Charlie spoke at a crowded “reconciliation service” attended by interfaith leaders in a Methodist church in Texas. Werner watched her friend through a livestream of the service.
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“I’m really glad that people are not saying the Prayer for the Dead for me,” Cytron-Walker told them.
Werner and Cytron-Walker not only attended the same rabbinical school, they applied for the same job in Colleyville after graduation.
Cytron-Walker ended up getting the job because his relative youth was seen as a better fit for the young community, Werner, who was 20 years older, was later told by Beth Israel leaders.
Cytron-Walker told Werner that he wanted to sue the synagogue for ageism on her behalf. Though likely said in jest, it underscored the importance he attached to fair play.
Described as a bridge-builder with a deep sense of social responsibility, he once spent 48 hours on the street to understand homelessness, according to The Forward, an American-Jewish website.
He also used his skills to build dialogue with leaders of a nearby mosque. Members of his congregation celebrated iftar dinners during Ramadan with their Muslim neighbors.
He believes in everyone having their say, no matter how long it might take for everyone’s views to be aired, Werner said.
“His entire persona is listening and dialogue,” Werner is quoted in The Forward story. “If you had a meeting with Charlie, there was like a six-hour process part about how everybody would be heard, about how we could be kind to each other — and that was about ordering a pizza.”
Werner said one word perfectly sums up Charlie: Mensch.
“Mensch is the Yiddish word for absolutely decently human,” Werner said. “That’s him.”