We left at once for the Rebbe‘s shul, known simply by its address number - 770 - in order to daven mincha. I was very excited, because I was now finally going to meet the Rebbe. I had been travelling for over a week and thousands of miles and now I was to receive my anticipated reward.

I might have been tempted to wish the Rebbe “Sholom Aleichem” and to shake his hand, but Rabbi Shemtov – my sponsor and guide – had already warned me that I should not approach or speak to the Rebbe unless the Rebbe initiated it.

I entered the shul and was immediately struck by its smallness; it was not much bigger than a very large dining room. It was packed tightly, with about 150 people all standing in a solid mass; yet there was a completely empty space at one end, where a table and a nice chair were specially prepared for the Rebbe. There was also a small bench to seat just four or five persons, of whom I was one, near the Aron Hakodesh.

I did not speak to, neither was I introduced to, the Rebbe. He sat by himself, with downcast eyes, and davened. The decorum was perfect. Everyone davened and no one spoke at all to his neighbor. When the Rebbe got up to leave after the service, somehow, a large passageway was miraculously cleared for him. In between mincha and maariv when the Rebbe returned to his private study, one of the students recited one of the Rebbe‘s recent maamorim (chassidic discourse).