Nobody would be able to tell the tiredness on his face. He would relate that he had to constantly battle and fight through to make sure the shiur was as clear as possible.
Rebbi would many times forget to eat. He would feel weak a day later and wouldn’t understand why. Until he finally remembered that he hadn’t eaten in about 20 hours.
He would be able to find a common language with just about anyone.
He quickly learned what his crowd wanted to hear, and changed his Chumash shiur by adding many Mareh Meko- mot to cater to a Sefardic crowd in Queens to keep them in- terested.
If anything would be going on with his private life at home, nobody was able to tell. He put the other person first and foremost.
It alway made me wonder: how is this Gadol in his own right that was Meshamesh the Gedolei Hador of the previ- ous generation has time, patience, interest to speak to someone like me. To think that I had a chance to sit next to him and drink from his knowledge. What a zechut this was for me. Hashem gave me a present.
I always wondered to myself, doesn’t he have a desire to talk in lomdus, chilukim, gemarot, etc? Why is he dedicat- ing time to talk to me and answer my petty questions?