Ep 82: Ordinary Heroes with Bernie Furshpan and guest Rabbi Ron Csilag on hmTv

Episode 82: "A Life of Service, Faith, and Resilience"
Ordinary Heroes on hmTv at the Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center

In this inspiring and heartfelt episode of Ordinary Heroes, host Bernie Furshpan welcomes a longtime friend and extraordinary community leader, Rabbi Ron Csilag. Their conversation explores Ron’s remarkable journey — from chiropractor to rabbi, from volunteer at Ground Zero to advocate for Israeli hostages, and from the son of a Holocaust refugee to a voice for resilience, justice, and hope.

Rabbi Ron shares the profound moments that shaped his life, including his early connection to Israel during Operation Solomon, his volunteer work adjusting rescue workers at Ground Zero after 9/11, and his ongoing mission to fight antisemitism and injustice today. With wisdom and humility, he recounts how his upbringing and experiences have fueled a lifelong commitment to serving others.

The discussion dives into the challenges facing Jewish students on college campuses, the meaning of “Never Again” in today’s world, and the importance of speaking out boldly against hatred while maintaining optimism and hope. Rabbi Ron also reflects on the dangers of complacency, the blessings and responsibilities of living in America, and the urgent need for unity and mutual respect across a divided society.

Blending humor, deep insight, and personal stories, this episode reminds us that true heroism lies not in grand gestures, but in the everyday acts of standing up, speaking out, and giving back.

Join us for a powerful conversation about legacy, leadership, and the enduring impact one individual can make.

Transcript

Episode 82 transcript of Ordinary Heroes with Bernie Furshpan and guest Rabbi Ron Csilag, without timestamps:

Hello and thank you for joining us here on hmTv at the Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center. I'm your host, Bernie Furshpan. I have a very, very special guest and a very dear friend of mine today who has done incredible things in his community and has plans to do even more. I'm excited to welcome Rabbi Ron Csilag. Hi Ron, thanks so much for being here.

Hello Bernie, thank you for having me. We go back a long way.

Yes, we do. We both graduated New York Chiropractic College together in December of 1980. As a matter of fact, I lived here in Glen Cove for one year while attending the college. I never thought I'd return to Glen Cove — not that I didn’t like it, it’s just that it was remote and I had other plans. But here I am again. Life is funny that way.

There’s that old saying: man plans, God laughs.

I love that you have a lot of sayings, Ron. They come from people's experiences and aha moments. And you’ve had quite a few of those.

Yes, I have. I’ve been places I never thought I would end up, and they became very special experiences. Back in 1991, I had been in practice for about ten or eleven years. In May of '91, Israel staged Operation Solomon to rescue Jews from Ethiopia. Honestly, before that, I didn’t even know there were Jews in Ethiopia.

When I saw it happening, I knew I had to contribute somehow. As the child of a Holocaust refugee who came to the U.S. from a DP camp in 1947, it resonated deeply. Interestingly, just before Operation Solomon, Israel was being attacked by Saddam Hussein, who launched Scud missiles every Friday night as a kind of "Shabbat gift."

I decided then — if I don't go to Israel that summer, who will? I had never been there. I planned a trip with UJA to Israel in July, shortly after the Ethiopian Jews arrived. I contacted the North American Conference of Ethiopian Jewry and started sponsoring high school students with small monthly contributions — enough for bus fare, pizza with friends, little things like that.

During our trip, we visited facilities where the Ethiopian Jews were being housed until they could integrate into Israeli society. I met a young lady I was sponsoring, who asked me for an unusual gift: baseball bats and gloves. Her brothers had somehow fallen in love with baseball, which wasn’t really popular in Israel yet.

Mazi Pilip, our local county legislator from Great Neck, was also part of Operation Solomon. We’ve discussed it over the years.

After 9/11, I volunteered down at Ground Zero. I went every other Wednesday night after my office hours, staying until 2:30 a.m., adjusting rescue workers. It was my way of repaying America for taking in my father — a penniless refugee.

My father was very proud to serve this country. He received a letter from President Harry Truman — you know, the "greetings" letter that meant you were drafted — and he ended up serving in Korea. He was honorably discharged as Corporal Joseph Csilag. He always called himself a refugee, never an immigrant, and he was proud of his service.

I didn’t serve in the military, but I always felt I owed America something. Volunteering was my way of giving back.

You have a history of serving your community. And when you retired from your practice, you chose to serve in another way — by becoming a rabbi. Tell us about that transition.

Well, I injured my hands adjusting a patient and had to retire a year or two earlier than planned. I wasn’t bored, I was happily retired. But people had always told me, “You’d make a great rabbi.” I had grown up more traditionally than most of my friends.

People used to come to me for advice all the time — when does Passover start, when’s Rosh Hashanah — and I would just know. There was no internet back then! My friends would joke and say, “Thanks, Rabbi Ron!” One day, I thought: maybe this isn't such a crazy idea.

And next thing I knew, I was in rabbinical school. After a course of study, I became Rabbi Ron.

You’re a positive thinker, Ron. You embody optimism. You believe we become what we think about.

Absolutely. No question about it. I encourage positive thinking because negative thoughts lead to negative outcomes. Plant good seeds.

I started rabbinical school before the October 7th Hamas attacks. By the time I graduated, those terrible events had occurred. In my community in Syosset, we had a young man, Omer Neutra, who was serving as a lone soldier in Israel. He was believed to be a hostage.

We organized support movements like “Run for Their Lives,” and I found myself becoming a spokesperson for the hostages. I was even invited to speak at the New York State Capitol in Albany.

My father, Joseph Csilag, who arrived in New York in 1947, could never have imagined his son speaking in front of state senators, defining what "Never Again" really means.

And what does "Never Again" mean to you?

It doesn’t mean that Jews will never be attacked again. We have thousands of years of history telling us otherwise. "Never Again" means that now we fight back. We stand strong. Talking hasn't saved us historically; action must.

You are a resilient people, Ron. We are resilient.

David Ben-Gurion once said that if you believe in the survival of the Jewish people, you almost have to believe in God — and he wasn’t even religious.

You’re right. There are those who support us — many Christian organizations and individuals — but the problem is, the loudest voices are often the hateful ones. And the silent majority? We don't really know what they think.

That’s why education, awareness, and speaking up is so critical. We have to be louder with positivity and facts to drown out hate.

Exactly. And we must act, not just talk. Especially on college campuses where antisemitism is rising dangerously. It's a shanda — a shame. We see lawlessness: buildings occupied, classes disrupted, Jewish students intimidated — with little or no consequences.

Our elected officials need to empower law enforcement to act decisively. Private institutions or not, if there’s a fire, the public fire department responds. The same logic should apply to lawlessness.

You’ve become a voice for justice, Ron. That's why you're an extraordinary hero. You stand up, speak up, and you encourage others to stand up too.

What keeps you up at night?

Finding solutions. Figuring out what more I can do.

And what would let you sleep peacefully?

If law and order returned to our institutions. If Israel were safe with secure borders. If polarization in America eased, and we found compromise again — like leaders did decades ago over a bottle of bourbon or Irish whiskey.

That’s beautiful. And wise. I know you as a deeply thoughtful, kind, and brilliant person. Those who know you are lucky. I’m lucky.

Thank you, Bernie. That means a lot.

Thank you, Rabbi Ron, for joining us today and sharing your story, your wisdom, and your heart. And thanks to all who have been listening in on today’s conversation here on hmTv at the Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center. I’m Bernie Furshpan, host of Ordinary Heroes. Until next time, stay well.