Oct 2-3, 2026 • 22 Tishrei 5787 • Shmini/Simchat Torah (Deut 16)
In fond memory of Leo Swergold, whose first yahrzeit occurs today.
"I saw two unmanned yokes with no pilots and I've watched this program, 'Flight Investigation,' and I knew I had to pull." — Yaniv Hayun, an Israeli plumber, who yanked the jihadist pilot out of the cockpit with a chokehold and took over the controls of FlyDubai Flight 1073.Due to this dramatic Sukkot news, let's extend last week's theme, "Should I Stay or Should I Go?"
Not only is it great table talk in and of itself, it really highlights for me the core message of this weekend.
By this weekend, I of course mean Simchat Torah and all the meaning that is wrapped up in that.
In case you only read the initial MSM headlines, you might not have heard the true story. Initial headlines mentioned something about a pilot altercation that nearly crashed Flight 1073.
That weren't no altercation. It was an attempt to murder 174 people. As the plane nosedived toward the Arabian desert, the wounded pilot (Smit Machchhar) somehow managed to unlock the door, enabling Hayun and other passengers to save the day.
You know the pre-flight safety briefing when they tell you to note the life jacket, the oxygen mask, and the nearest exit? Maybe they should also have you note the location of the nearest Israeli on board just in case you might need some help subduing a terrorist.
All kidding aside, this is the question I'm suggesting for your table: What inspires a simple plumber to rise to such a call of duty? Or the other three Israelis—Assaf Rajuan, Zvika Manes and Shota Musaev—who restrained the murderous co-pilot and treated the stabbed captain?
Does it have more to do with being Israeli, or with being Jewish?
We all have our Yaniv moments. It may be as simple and undramatic as slowing down for someone struggling to enter traffic. It may be someone struggling with a load. It may be simply noticing that "loner" at the office or in shul and striking up a conversation.
I heard about a certain Holocaust survivor who made it to New York, where she married and raised children and grandchildren. Having experienced real starvation, she took it upon herself to always carry a fresh sandwich in her purse, just in case she might meet someone who needed it. She did so for many years before she ever had the opportunity to give someone the sandwich.
Question for your table: Were all those years of carrying a sandwich for naught? Couldn't she have just carried cash?
Being Jewish means that you are the scion of the noblest lineage: 3,000 years of Torat Chaim—wisdom for life. We are here because our parents and grandparents pursued life.
The rest is commentary; now go and study.
Shabbat Shalom and
Chag Sameach
