Brooklyn sister of slain Bondi Beach rabbi vows to carry on his legacy amid rising antisemitism
Chani Schlanger Drizin says she and her family will not hide or be afraid, even as hate crimes shake her Brooklyn neighborhood and mirror recent violence abroad.
In Crown Heights, Brooklyn, Chani Schlanger Drizin, 54, the sister of Rabbi Eli Schlanger who was killed during the Bondi Beach Hanukkah attack in Australia, spoke openly about her family’s grief and their resolve to keep their faith visible in public life despite a surge of antisemitic incidents in New York and around the world.
Schlanger Drizin sat Shiva at her home as the Jewish community mourned the loss of the rabbi, who helped organize the Hanukkah by the Sea celebration that drew about 2,000 people on Dec. 14. The attack left 15 people dead and dozens wounded when a gunman opened fire at the event. Schlanger, who was shot in the back, died after leaping to shield another attendee from bullets. His wife, Chaya, was grazed in the back, and their five children — ages ranging from 17 to six weeks old — were present during these events and have since been cared for as the family processes the tragedy.
Days after the Bondi Beach massacre, antisemitic violence and threats spilled closer to home: a Yeshiva student was assaulted on a New York City subway, and a man was stabbed by an attacker who allegedly proclaimed, “I’m going to kill a Jew today.” Drizin described a sense that hate was spreading through the city and warned that many in the Jewish community feel under threat even in neighborhoods long seen as welcoming. She said the spike in antisemitism has been terrifying and has raised questions about protection and safety, both on the streets and in transit.
“We’re not hiding and we’re not afraid,” Drizin said, reflecting a determination that her brother would have supported. “He would tell us to keep going.” She reminded listeners that Eli Schlanger dedicated his life to service and joy, regularly visiting the sick and incarcerated, and she kept a keepsake-filled phone with clips of him goofing around with family, using them to steady herself as she spoke about the weeks of mourning and the future.
The public sending of support and the sense of communal loss rippled through Crown Heights and the broader Jewish community, with family friends and neighbors emphasizing a shared resolve. British-born Schlanger Drizin, who has lived in New York for 36 years, said the attacks underscore a broader pattern of antisemitism and a need for unity. “We’re all in this together. They try to destroy us, but every time they do something, we become stronger and more resilient,” she added.
Shalom Goldstein, a family friend, described a different dimension of the challenge: he said political correctness has, in his view, allowed anti-Jewish hatred to go unchecked in some quarters. Goldstein added that he appealed to New York Police Commissioner Jessica Tisch for enhanced protection as the city contends with a string of hate crimes in Crown Heights and beyond. “We were hoping we’re in better times, but the ugly head of antisemitism is rearing again,” he said, arguing that bystanders and those who rationalize hate contribute to the problem.
In public remembrances and at menorah candlelight ceremonies, Schlanger Drizin has tried to channel her grief into action. She spoke about continuing the family’s traditions, including the public lighting of the menorah and the decision to continue using public transit as part of religious life. She said her brother’s legacy centers on joy, love, and an appreciation for being Jewish, and that his example should guide the community through fear toward resilience.
“Eli was all about joy, love, and appreciation for being Jewish,” she said, describing him as a “modern-day Maccabee” who inspired friends and family to serve others and to confront hatred with compassion and action. She vowed that the family would carry his work forward and that the community would not be cowed by acts of violence.
The family’s grief and determination come amid a broader national conversation about safety, religious freedom, and the rights of Jewish communities to express their faith openly. Schlanger Drizin’s message to those who would threaten or degrade Jewish life is straightforward: the faith community intends to remain visible, vocal, and active in public spaces, including on subway cars and in community events, as a sign that hatred will not define daily life.
As the menorah lights continue to glow in Crown Heights and across other Jewish neighborhoods, officials and community leaders emphasize that countering hate will require a sustained, coordinated effort from law enforcement, community organizations, and residents alike. For Schlanger Drizin and many others, the road ahead is about honoring Eli Schlanger’s memory by turning fear into action and darkness into a shared promise of courage, continuity, and faith in the face of adversity.
The family will hold private memorials and participate in public remembrances in the weeks ahead, continuing to navigate the emotional terrain of loss while maintaining their commitment to the traditions that define their lives. They still plan to light the menorah in public and to ride the subway, a testament to resilience and to the belief that, as Eli Schlanger’s sister put it, the community will endure with faith intact.
The story of a family transformed by tragedy and a community’s insistence on continuity underscores a larger global thread: acts of antisemitism reach across continents and demand local resilience, unity, and steadfast faith in the face of fear. As the Schlanger family and their supporters move forward, they carry with them the memory of a rabbi who acted in the moment to save others, and a commitment to keeping faith, light, and public life going no matter the danger.
