Rabbi and Rebbitzin Zwebner - a tribute

I grew up in Bulawayo, Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) and was privileged to have both a Rabbi and a Rebbitzin that I could look up to. Rabbi and Rebbitzin Zwebner.

My memories of Rabbi Zwebner are of a tall man with white hair and beard, a man that my father worked with on committees, that my father looked up to, a man I knew I could trust. Instinct told me that Rabbi would always be there for me. Not in ways that I would notice, but as a backbone of the Jewish community. Making sure the schools were aware of their Jewish kids (we only had a Jewish Junior school), trying to make sure we had kosher food. And always in the shul.
Years later, as I stood in front of the Beth Din in Cape Town I remembered that I trusted Rabbi Zwebner. Knowing that I was from Bulawayo, the Beth Din had called in Rabbi Zwebner to sit with them. Like a true Judge, he sat quietly. He showed no emotion, but I could feel all of that trust of my youth flow back. He said little that day. Just enough for me to know that my trust was well founded.

My memories of Rebbitzin Zwebner are of a true Rebbitzin. We were friends of the family, my brother and Jonty, their youngest, were the same age, and after shul all the kids would amble along to their home for Kiddush. It must have been a huge home. There were always people there. Always good smells. Always warmth and comfort. Only many years later did I start to understand what it takes to have so open a home. Rebbitzin Zwebner had such a home.
Rebbitzin Zwebner also showed a personal interest in the girls of the community. In those days girls still sang in the choir. She taught us. I never fully understood how beautiful a voice she herself had.
And I remember Rosh Hashana. Our shul was big, but in those days so was the community. And the Rebbitzin had a seat in the front row, on the end. The rest of that row was for all the female leaders of the community, but not according to our Rebbitzin. "Please" she would say, "they want to be in shul" and one by one these old matriarchs would vacate their seats so that the female youth of the community could sit with their Rebbitzin.
One of the last speeches Rabbi Zwebner made in Bulawayo was not from the pulpit, but I think at their leaving party. He told us, with love and affection, that this speech would be shorter than his sermons, as his beloved wife was next to him, and would kick his ankle if he spoke for too long. Today my husband uses this trick on me.
I left Bulawayo, and far to often compared my "Rebbitzins" to Rebbitzin Zwebner. They never matched up.

When I made Aliya a friend helped me to contact Rabbi and Rebbitzin Zwebner. By then Rabbi was old, yet he seemed to remember me. Rebbitzin certainly did, and we chatted happily for quite some time. She told me with pride how her husband was from a family of many generations in Jerusalem. I realised how it was this respect, that she had for her husband and he for her, that had made that family so special. How I regret that I did not visit them more often.

Rabbi Zwebner passed away earlier this year. Having been lazy and inconsiderate of them, I did not know of his passing until two months after the funeral. And then, 3 months later, Rebbitzin Zwebner, too, passed away. She had said to her family that her husband was calling. It was because of their love and respect for each other, and for their community that they naturally had a positive effect on people. Their grand daughter spoke at Rebbitzins funeral. She said "Bobba, this is so not like you, to not be alive". And I can only agree with her.

To Shulamit, David, Michael and Jonty, and their families, my deep condolences. We have all lost a wonderful couple.

Rebecca Johnstone (nee Schay)