In a glass-paneled conference room on the 11th floor of an office tower in Har Chotzvim, Yerushalayim, sunlight streams through the wide windows that offer sweeping views of the city and the surrounding mountains. The room belongs to Relief, a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping people struggling with mental health challenges, whose staff have graciously allowed me to use it. It’s a beautiful day outside, but neither the sunshine nor the magnificent view can dispel the somber mood that fills the room.
Sitting across from me is Chaim Hanfling, the uncle of Moishe Kleinerman, the 16-year-old bachur who vanished without a trace in March 2022.
Chaim is Moishe’s mother’s brother. Shortly after Moishe disappeared, I traveled to meet his parents in their home in Modiin Ilit. I sat with them for hours, listening to their story, their anguish, and their desperate hope that their son would soon come home. We subsequently published an extensive cover story in Ami Magazine, featuring Moishe’s photograph and the heartbreaking account of his disappearance. At the time, we hoped the story would soon have a happy ending.
Sadly, more than four and a half years later, Moishe has still not been found, and his family continues to live with the unimaginable anguish of not knowing what happened to their son. I sat down with his uncle to revisit the circumstances of Moishe’s disappearance, to learn what has happened in the years since, and to hear about the family’s ongoing efforts to bring him home.
In the aftermath of Moishe’s disappearance, it seemed that the Israeli police didn’t necessarily handle the case the way they should have. Why didn’t they take his disappearance seriously at the beginning?
The police said that parents come in and report their child as missing every day, and the kid usually comes home a few hours later. If it’s an older boy, he went to the Kosel or to Meron, and then he comes back. Moishe was the type who would go to Kever Yosef, or to other kevarim near the Arab village of Kifl Haris. He disappeared on 25 Adar, and the police were sure he’d be home by Pesach. “He’s not going to stay out on his own over Yom Tov,” they said, “maybe he went on a tiyul with some friends, but he’ll be home by Pesach.”
I would imagine that if a child under the age of 18 is missing for more than 24 hours, the police should take it seriously.
The problem was that his parents didn’t realize it at first, either. He was learning in yeshivah in Yerushalayim, at Toras Chacham, and he used to call his parents every Friday. When he didn’t call that Friday, his parents were surprised. On Motzaei Shabbos, his father traveled to Yerushalayim and went to the yeshivah, where he was told that Moishe hadn’t shown up in a week. That’s when the whole thing started.
What happened?
He had gone to Meron. He had called his parents the previous Friday to tell them he was there and that everything was all right.
Did he have a cell phone?
No. He called from a friend’s phone.
What did the people who were with him that Shabbos have to say?
They said he was with them. He spent time with them and ate with them, and we have people who saw him around until after Havdalah. He was supposed to gather his things and meet the bachurim at the bus stop so they could travel to Tzfas for Rav Yoel Roth’s melaveh malkah. But he never made it back to the place where he was staying, and he never got on the bus. Something happened around that time. He was seen on the cameras in Meron coming and going all Shabbos long, but after Shabbos, he simply disappeared.
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