After Yekum Purkan, it is customary to recite the tefillah of Av Harachamim. It first appeared in siddurim in the year 1290, but had been circulating in various versions for about 100 years before that. Its origins lie in the wake of the First Crusade. Many Jewish communities in Germany were decimated as mobs found an outlet for their religious zeal in killing Jews before making their way to the Holy Land to wrest it from the Muslims. Thousands of men, women and children lost their lives in the communities of the Rhineland. Mainz, Worms, Speyer were ravaged over the course of a few weeks as the Crusaders made their way down Europe.

Most of the killing of the First Crusade took place during the spring, corresponding to the months of Nissan, Iyar and Sivan. An anonymous author composed this communal memorial prayer and it was to be said on the Shabbosim between Pesach and Shavuos, the time period when the massacres occurred. As the black plague swept across Europe during the mid-fourteenth century, annihilating nearly half the population, Jews were taken as the scapegoat. They were accused of having brought about the plague and were persecuted and killed. Many hundreds of Jewish communities were destroyed during this period. As a result, Av Harachamim was recited on other Shabbosim as well.

It is important to note that at every joyous Jewish occasion we reflect on our nation’s history, both the tragic and the glorious, the bloodstained and the heroic. In Av Harachamim we honor the men, women and children who preceded us and paved the way for our existence and survival. A chosson dons ashes on his forehead and breaks a glass under his chuppah lest he forget to mourn over the destruction of Yerushalayim and the Beis Hamikdash, we say Yizkor on all the major festivals, and in case you needed a reminder, we are about to devote nearly a month to remembering what Tzion was and what she soon will be. It has certainly been a long and arduous exile with too many casualties along the way. However, as it states in Maseches Taanis (30b), “Kol shemisabel al Yerushalayim, zocheh v’roeh b’simchasah,” – “All who mourn [the Churban of] Yerushalayim will merit to see it in its joy.”

The two pesukim at the very end of Sefer Yoel (4:20,21) deal with the restoration of Bnei Yisroel in their land, which involves Hashem punishing the Gentiles for shedding the blood of His people. All other sins can be overlooked and forgiven, but spilling the blood of His children? For that, Hashem says He cannot ignore – He cannot forgive. It was with these two pesukim that the late, great, multifaceted dynamo R’ Eli Teitelbaum, z’l and long-time arranger and conductor Yisroel Lamm composed our featured tune.

Rabbi Teitelbaum was a fourth-grade rebbi in Yeshiva Torah Temimah (formerly Yeshiva Torah Vodaath of Flatbush). Among many other talents and titles, R’ Eli was an accomplished clarinet and trumpet player, the Director of Camp Sdei Chemed and was famously the brainchild behind Dial-a-Daf. Lamm, a friend of his since his teenage years, would join him at Camp Sdei Chemed as Assistant head counselor and the two of them would collaborate on many projects spanning several decades.

V’neekaisie first appeared on the 1971 Camp Sdei Chemed International Sings record called Leshana Habaah. {If you recall, the album had a big, purplish gatefold-type record cover that opened up to reveal some of the fun activities and significant sites that the campers would get to experience each summer.} The song featured an 11 year-old soloist by the name of Avromie Friedman, who – you guessed it – would go on to become who we know today as Avraham Fried, the Prince of Chassidic Music.

In 1985, following four best-selling records, Fried would revisit this defining Diasporic song when choosing the track list for his next album. Producer Sheya Mendlowitz insisted that V’neekaisie be included on Goodbye Golus and in a stroke of genius, Sheya incorporated the recording of little Avremel back in ‘71, then proceeded to record Fried anew for the song’s crescendo.

Sheya says:

We wanted to use the original recordings from that S’dei Chemed record, but the problem was that the original recording reels didn’t exist — at least no one could find them. So instead, I found a record without any scratches and took it along with me to Eretz Yisrael, where we were recording all the music for Goodbye Golus. We actually played the record in the studio, recording it on two tracks out of the twenty-four recording tracks we were using at the time, and the musicians — guitar, bass, and flute — played along, one beat later. After Avremel’s solo finished, we turned it off and continued on with the new music. The result is the haunting finished product that you hear below.

As Jews, we know that we are only as great as our history, and this song certainly pays tribute to this idea in a very special way.

{Fan Fact: Sheya wanted suitcases to be used for the cover of the record but it was Jacket Designer Tovia Ganz’s idea to have them look old, beaten up and have stickers from all over the world on them. Now the hard part – where to find some old, beaten up, bestickered suitcases!? In comes Bobby, the studio drummer, who overheard the conversation and said that he knew just where to find them. As promised, Bobby delivered. He schlepped the large luggage through Manhattan and up to the studio to be photographed and then digitally edited (before Photoshop!) to have some more stickers added. Can you guess which ones were not already there?}