“I could never have undertaken such a responsibility myself,” related Rabbi J. J. Hecht. “As soon as I received the information I notified the Rebbe.”

What did Rabbi Hecht mean? A few days before Pesach 1987, his son, Rabbi Sholom Ber Hecht of Forest Hills, New York, consulted him about a message that a congregant had received from his nephew.

The nephew and three hundred other Jews had fled from Iran and were temporarily staying in Karachi, Pakistan, where there was no Jewish community. Caught between Iran and Afghanistan, and involved with their own religious disputes with India, the Pakistanis showed no tolerance of other faiths. The man had asked his uncle to send Passover provisions to the refugees, or at least matzos for the Seder night.

Rabbi Hecht had deep ties with the Iranian community. Thousands of Iranian teenagers had left the country on student visas under his guidance shortly after the Khomeini Revolution. He had made many previous commitments in time, money, and soul. But in this instance, something more was involved; any person spreading Jewish observance in Pakistan was risking his life.

The Rebbe instructed Rabbi Hecht to find somebody who was familiar with Iranian customs and who would agree to travel to Pakistan. The Rebbe added that he would sponsor the trip, purchase the entire amount of matzos needed, and offer a blessing to the shaliach.

The last particular was more important to Rabbi Hecht than the financial help. It meant that the shaliach would be safe.

Soon Rabbi Hecht found a yeshivah student, Zalman Gerber, who was willing to undertake the journey. Senator Al D’amato of New York helped him bring the matter to the immediate attention of high-ranking officials in the Pakistani Consulate. However, those officials refused to issue a student visa, clarifying that only those with clear business reasons for journeying to Pakistan could obtain a visa.

This requirement did not dissuade Rabbi Hecht. His associates in the Persian community helped him find a rug dealer, who supplied a letter explaining that Mr. Gerber was journeying to Karachi for two weeks in order to purchase Oriental carpets. The letter worked, and the Pakistanis issued the visa, emphasizing, however, that they could take no responsibility for the traveler’s safety.

Arriving in Karachi, Zalman encountered a series of hazards and providential means of overcoming them. The packages of matzah which he brought were checked carefully by a customs official, who could not understand what a rug dealer was doing with so many of these strange crackers.

Checking in at the hotel where he had made reservations, he discovered to his dismay that his room was on the eighth floor. Fearful that the hotel staff might grow suspicious after possibly seeing him walk up and down eight flights of stairs on the holiday, he asked to be given a room on a lower floor. Fortunately, this request was allowed, and he moved to an unoccupied second-floor room.

In order to avoid the watchful eyes of Muslim extremists while contacting refugees, the Jews had taken shelter in a deteriorating neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. After they had been located, it was no small feat to transport the boxes of matzah without attracting additional attention. Nevertheless, just before commemorating our people’s exodus from Egypt, Zalman was able to bring Pesach supplies to this community in the midst of their own journey to freedom.