Remembering my dear friend, Rabbi Shlomo Porter

November 9, 1947 – November 14, 2025

It feels like a zillion years ago since I was a part of the Porter family, yet for nearly a decade of my life Shlomo Porter played a significant role in who I became as a person.

Rabbi Porter was a sort of surrogate father to me. All I can say is that Shlomo Porter was someone filled with an enormous amount of unconditional love. The kind of person everyone wishes they had in their life — even if it’s only for a short time.

I first met rabbi Porter shortly after I moved to Baltimore.  At the suggestion of a friend, I called rabbi Porter and met with him the next day. I didn’t know a single person in Maryland until he took me under his wing. 

Soon after my initial meeting with rabbi Porter, the building that housed his Jewish learning center, “The Etz Chaim Center for Jewish Learning, was set on fire by a youth in the community.  I remember thinking to myself how traumatized rabbi Porter and the rest of his community must have felt. I immediately volunteered to help out. I didn’t believe folks that were so deeply involved with Etz Chaim needed to go into the burnt out building.  I didn’t have the same emotional ties to the old house since I newly arrived.

Rabbi Porter gave me the task of inventorying everything that wasn’t damaged.  I also was asked to boxed things up that could be saved, and to create a list of books that were inside.

At first it was quite simple, up until I reached a huge library of books written in Hebrew. Silly me, I wasn’t thinking. I forgot that an orthodox Jewish learning institution would have books and other printed material written in Hebrew.  The issue was that I couldn’t read, write or speak Hebrew. It became a joke between Rabbi Porter and myself.

I didn’t want those traumatized by the fire to have to complete this task, so I enlisted a friend’s son who spoke fluent Hebrew to assist me. Soon other Hebrew readers were enlisted to complete the enormous task.  

Spending so much time volunteering at Etz Chaim I became a friend of the Porter family, being invited to just about every shabbos, yom tov and other simcha meals.

One of my hobbies has been photography, because of that gift I became the official photographer of many Etz Chaim events and also of many Porter family gatherings during my time living in Baltimore.

It’s a little known secret that during the early days of The Awareness Center, rabbi Shlomo Porter was one of the organization’s biggest supporters. Because I was new, I didn’t know the “who’s who” of the religious world, or what was what. Rabbi Porter was my original go to person when I had questions.

I remember years ago when rabbi Yosef Blau first contacted me, I had no clue who he was. I ask rabbi Porter, if rabbi Blau was trustworthy. Rabbi Porter responded by saying, “yes Rabbi Blau was kosher”. “He was a good person to network with”.

Being secular and from the Midwest, I had never heard of Yeshvia University, nor knew what a mashgiach ruchan was (head spiritual advisor).  I found myself being immersed into a whole new universe. I grew up secular. I knew who Mic Jagger was, yet was clueless who the important players were in Orthodox Judaism. 

Rabbi Porter was the first halachic advisor (Jewish legal advisor) of The Awareness Center’.  Due to the complicated politics of dealing with sex crimes in the Jewish world, rabbi Porter soon dropped out of that role, yet remained a dear and trusted friend. A person I often consulted with on certain issues that came up.

My first Pesach seder since childhood was at the Porter’s family home. I never really had great memories of my family’s gatherings, so I was extremely apprehensive of attending a seder at the Porter’s home. Rabbi Porter invited me to both the first and second nights, which were really only setup to be for his family members and a few close friends. I remember feeling totally out of place. I had never been to a Yeshivish seder before. I had no idea what I was in for.

The Unger cousin’s came in from Pennsylvania.  The table was packed with “black hatters”, and women wearing sheitels (wigs). I never experienced anything like that before.

Once the seder began, I felt as if I was at an amazing concert. The Porter and Unger families members were amazing singers, doing harmony to each of the prayers. I had no idea what anyone was saying, yet the accapella music was unbelievable.  I never wanted it to end.

The seder began soon after sunset, and I didn’t get back home until three or four in the morning. I’ll be honest, I never wanted the music to end. 

One of the funniest stories occurred after Hurricane Isabel hit the Baltimore area back in September, 2023.  The Eruv of Baltimore was far inland, yet the electrical power to most of the community went out for several days.

I needed to use medical equipment, yet couldn’t without electricity. I was getting sick. I called everyone I knew, yet no one had power. I got desperate and called rabbi Porter. He told me he did not have power, yet his next door neighbor, Judge Brown did.  The Brown family hooked up electricity to the Porter’s home by using extension cords. Rabbi Porter invited me to stay in one of the guest rooms in his home until the power came back on.  He then told me he would pick me up when he was done with work. 

Rabbi Porter called me around 10 pm and said he was on his way to get me.  I looked out my front window waiting for him to arrive.  I must admit I hadn’t slept in a few days.  I wasn’t functioning very well. I am still in shock over the words that came out of my mouth when I got into rabbi Porter’s car.

At the time I had two new next door neighbors that I was concerned about. They were two young Russian women in their late teens or early twenties. At night men would flash their headlights at their apartment, and the young women would run out to the various cars.

The two Russian women did not speak English, and I did not know a word of Russian. I had a hunch about them, yet had no way of knowing if I was correct or not.  I had wanted to talk to rabbi Porter about the women, since Etz Chaim had a program for Russian immigrants.  I knew rabbi Porter knew people who spoke Russian.  Working in the anti rape field for decades, my fear was the young women were being trafficked. 

When rabbi Porter arrived he flashed his headlights at my window. It was pitch black out, all the streetlights were out, and the street was totally dark. I wasn’t sure if it was rabbi Porter was flashing the headlights, or if it was someone for the two young women.  Rabbi Porter started getting out of his car.  I could tell it was him from the silhouette of his black hat.  I came running out and got into his car.

Remember I was lacking sleep. I apologized to him for not running out right away, and said  “I didn’t know if he was there for me or the prostitutes”. 

Rabbi Porter looked at me funny and we drove back to his home. When we arrived, Rabbi Porter’s wife showed me to my room and to where the shower was in the basement. I was so relieved I was in a place that had electricity and hot water.  All I wanted to do was to take a hot shower and go to sleep.

All of a sudden it hit me, and realized what I said to rabbi Porter, who was one of the most pious people I had ever met. I knew he already went to bed, so I would have to wait until morning to apologize. I was utterly embarrassed by my words.

That next morning when I went upstairs I saw rabbi Porter.  I profusely apologized to him for saying what I did, and explained that I wanted to ask him for help, since I was concerned for my young neighbors safety.  I told rabbi Porter that I was afraid the two women were being prostituted.

Rabbi Porter’s response was laughter. He looked at me and said he know there was a story behind my words. He assured me he would have his Russian team look into helping the two young women, especially if my concerns were correct. To this day I’m still embarrassed of the words that came out of my mouth, instead of what I meant to say. For the length of time I resided in Baltimore it was one of those jokes I had with my dear friend. 

I didn’t learn that rabbi Porter passed away until a few months after his death. I lost contact with my dear and trusted friend after I moved away from Baltimore. My belief system became in conflict with his, so we parted ways. I will always cherish the friendship I had with him and the entire Porter family. I grew so much as a person from having them be a part of my life for a season and a reason.