The death of Sgt. Moshe Yitzchak HaCohen Katz, 22, of New Haven, Connecticut, who fell Friday in combat in southern Lebanon, left not only his family but an entire American community broken and in pain. But beyond the tragedy, Katz's story also reveals the broader story of the small but tight-knit Chabad community he grew up in, and the values that led him to leave a comfortable life behind and enlist in the IDF.
Sholem and Rosie, neighbors of the family in New Haven, knew Moshe and his family over the years, and painted the portrait of a quiet young man with a big heart and a deep sense of mission.
"Moshe was a boy who was very similar to his father," Sholem said. "A kind-hearted person that would literally give the shirt off his back to help another Jew, to help another person that's in need. He would go out of his way with a smile on his face, without ever looking for anything in return."
Rosie added that, more than anything else, his character defined him. "I don't think I remember ever a time when he didn't have a smile on his face and a twinkle," she said. "He didn't say a lot. He didn't speak a lot. He had very few words, but always, always, always smiling."
In her telling, the circumstances of his death connect directly to the way he was raised. "When we heard the story, we said, it just makes sense. It just adds up," she said. "What Moshe saw in his home is to run and to give. That's how he lived his life."
Katz's roots run deep in the local community. His family is among the founders of the Chabad community in New Haven – a community that began as a small group of families and grew over the years into a significant Jewish hub in the region.
"His grandfather, who he's named after – Moshe Yitzchak – was a Chabad shliach [emissary] who was sent here by the previous Rebbe," Rosie recounted. "His family has been here since the 50s or 60s. They opened the Hebrew day school – it's called the Southern Connecticut Hebrew Academy. There's a community here because of this family."
The community itself, she said, has undergone a dramatic transformation over the years. "When we moved here, more than twenty years ago, there were maybe 30 or 40 families. Today, there are over 200," she said. "There are two schools, two kosher restaurants, about five different synagogues – and there's a yeshiva. But beyond the numbers, it's a community that is very supportive and giving, like a family."
Sholem emphasized that growth has not diluted its character. "More and more people are seeing this and they're joining the community," he said. "There's something very special here – people really care for one another."
One of the central elements in shaping Katz's character, they said, was the home he grew up in. "There's a lot of giving in this community," Rosie said. Sholem added, "We teach the values of the Lubavitcher Rebbe: Torah, mitzvot, and to help others. There are charitable funds, organizations that help families – there's even a new organization that helps someone that has a baby that needs to help pay for a bris. No questions asked."
Personal example at home was also a decisive factor, Rosie noted. "Moshe's father is one of the few Hatzalah members we have in New Haven," she said. "That explains what he saw at home – to run and to help."
Within that context, Katz's decision to enlist in the IDF is not seen as unusual, but as a natural continuation.
"He mentioned to my son that he felt like he was working here in the States and he wanted to do something more meaningful with his life," Sholem said. "After his sister served in the IDF, he felt that he wanted to follow in her footsteps and do something that would help out." He added, "I can't tell you if it was helping others or it was more about serving his country and giving back. But it was more about finding meaning and purpose. And he found this to be his next chapter."
This choice underscores an important dimension: while military service is uncommon in the Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) sector in Israel, there are young people from Chabad communities in the diaspora who choose of their own accord to make aliyah and enlist. "It's not a conversation that we have all the time," Rosie said, "but it's definitely something that we take with great pride that our boys are serving in the IDF." She noted that since October 7th, there has been more of a drive among young men to join.
The news of his death struck the community with tremendous force. "It was beyond devastated, shattered," Rosie said. "Everyone is just heartbroken. They feel like they lost one of their own."
Sholem described the first moments after receiving word. "Moshe's father came and told me at my house at nine o'clock on Saturday morning," he said. "He found out himself at 11:30 when the representatives from the Israeli government came to tell him. And since that time, his house was full – when I tell you, he couldn't even walk in, with community members that came to show him love and to be with him and his wife and children during these excruciating times."
In his telling, the community is still struggling to absorb the loss. "It's going to take time for things to digest," Sholem said. "It hasn't hit people yet. It's just really devastating news."
Yet initiatives to honor his memory are already taking shape. The women held a gathering on Saturday in honor of his soul, and there was a community Kiddush Levana in his memory. Sholem added that Moshe's friends have already begun writing a Torah scroll in his honor. Beyond the grief, his story serves as a deeper reminder. "It reminds us to cherish every moment and hug your children," Sholem said.
Rosie added, "It reminds us that we don't realize how much our children absorb of what they see in a home. What Moshe saw in his home is to run and to give. That's how he lived his life, and that's how his life was tragically ended."
She pointed to the gap between Jewish life in America and the reality in Israel. "As Americans, sometimes it's very hard for us," she said. "It's a painful reminder that this is a reality for so many in Israel."
And yet, in their eyes, his very choice gives his death a particular meaning. "To see a boy that did not have to go – he chose to get up from his comforts of his life in America and to go to give his life to fight for Israel and the Jewish people," Rosie said. "For us, it's just pure admiration."
When asked how they would want him to be remembered, their answer returned to the same core values that had guided him. "To honor his memory is to do what the Rebbe said – and that would be to do an act of goodness and kindness to another person," Sholem said. "Pay it forward."
"Go out of your way to help somebody," Rosie concluded. "But do it with a smile."
