I grew up in Georgia, Soviet Union, where my father served as a rabbi. He had gone there on the advice of the Previous Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn.

From my earliest years I remember my father speaking about the Previous Rebbe. It was as if the Rebbe was part of the family. He was our zeide, our grandfather. My father taught me that when something disturbing happens and you need advice, you write a letter to Zeide.

In 1941, I grew up in Georgia, Soviet Union, where my father served as a rabbi.when the Soviet Union entered World War II, my father was arrested and charged with “engaging in an occupation that was not healthy for society,” meaning being a rabbi. He was sentenced to nine years in prison, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise because otherwise he would have been drafted into the army. Likely he would have been killed, since the Red Army used people like him as cannon fodder.

While my father was in prison I reached bar mitzvah age, but there was no celebration because my mother was afraid that I might be arrested too. As my bar mitzvah present, I got to visit my father in prison. He said to me: “Listen, my son, you have to learn Torah. You have to learn Jewish law. You have to learn what to do, because you don’t know what will come—here in prison I have to know Jewish law well, so that when I’m forced to do certain things on Shabbos, I do them in a way that doesn’t violate Torah. So you must learn well.”

After this I enrolled in Tomchei Temimim, the Chabad yeshivah, in Kutaisi. I stayed there until my father was released from prison in a general amnesty following the end of World War II, and on the advice of the Previous Rebbe we left for Europe.

My father eventually accepted a position as a rabbi in Sweden, while I came to study at the Chabad yeshivah in New York. But after a few years in Sweden—this is in 1950 when the Korean War started—my father became frightened that the cold war between the Soviets and the Americans would cause another worldwide conflict. He decided that it would be prudent to leave Europe and migrate to Canada. He wrote about this to the Previous Rebbe, but in the meanwhile the Previous Rebbe passed away. My father eventually accepted a position as a rabbi in Sweden, while I came to study at the Chabad yeshivah in New York.Shortly after that I received instructions from my father to direct his question to the future Rebbe, who at that time had not yet formally accepted the leadership of the movement.

I brought my father’s letter to the future Rebbe, explaining that my father was in urgent need of advice. After he read it, he looked away for a moment. Then he said, “Your father is afraid that another world war is coming. But I don’t see a world war. Still, if he would feel more calm with a visa under his pillow, let him apply for a visa.”

I wrote to my father what the Rebbe said, and he applied for a visa. But he didn’t leave Europe right away—he was calmer because he had the visa, and he waited another two years before emigrating to Canada.

Meanwhile, back in New York, I became involved in publishing some of the Rebbe’s talks, and I was also privileged to be present when some interesting people came to visit him. One audience I remember in particular was when a group of students came to meet the Rebbe.

The students started asking questions of the Rebbe. One of them asked if the Rebbe used the techniques of psychoanalysis—Freud’s system—in giving advice.

The Rebbe said, “No, a person’s soul is much deeper than what mere psychoanalysis can penetrate. Freud’s theory concerns the ego, and relates to people as if they were guinea pigs.”

The student then asked, “Does a rebbe ever use Freud’s system for himself? Does he ever go to a doctor?”I received instructions from my father to direct his questions to the future Rebbe, who at that time had not yet formally accepted leadership of the movement.

The Rebbe smiled and said jokingly, “If a rebbe has a pain in his leg, he has to go to a leg doctor. If he suffers in his head, he has to go to a head doctor.”

Then he spoke to them about the energy they had as young people, and how to use it out for the sake of Judaism. He said they should use it now because, once they get older, they will not have as much.

One of the students—a smart-aleck—said, “No, it’s not true. Leon Trotsky, the Marxist revolutionary, was as energetic in his later years as he was in his youth.”

The Rebbe answered, “If you’ll read what he wrote in his earlier years and what he wrote in his later years, you’ll see that there was a difference.”

When I finished yeshivah studies, the Rebbe dispatched me to Morocco, where his earlier emissaries—Rabbi Michoel Lipsker, Rabbi Nisson Pinson and Rabbi Shlomo Matusof—were already doing outreach with thousands of children lacking a Jewish education. But more teachers were needed.

First, though, the Rebbe said, I should obtain my American citizenship, and only once I had an American passport should I go to Morocco. One of them asked if the Rebbe used the techniques of psychoanalysis—Freud’s system—in giving advice.This was very sound advice, because years later I was deported, and needed that passport to save my skin.

In Morocco, the Rebbe’s emissaries established yeshivahs in the major cities—Casablanca and Meknes—but my job was to set up schools in the outlying towns where Jews lived, using local teachers.

While in Morocco, I got married—my wife was Rabbi Michoel Lipsker’s daughter—and settled in Agadir, a place in the mountains around which there were many small Jewish villages. I established a yeshivah there—which was very successful, and attracted hundreds of students from the surrounding areas—and I also built a mikvah there.

Then I was thrown out of Morocco.

When I first went there, Morocco was a French protectorate. But then Morocco became independent, and a new governor came to Agadir. He wanted me out. People in the community came to plead on my behalf, but he said, “For him you plead? Don’t you know he is an Israeli spy?! In his school he teaches Hebrew—he doesn’t even know Arabic.”

So I had to leave. It’s a good thing that I was an American citizen and I had an American passport, because otherwise they would have put me in prison. I was saved thanks to the Rebbe.

After I left, there was a big earthquake in Agadir, and many people were killed. But I and my family were fine, because we got out in time.