Avraham Fried wrote an emotional and impassioned letter to his concert attendees in Lod.
“My dear brothers,
I am writing to you from my heart to yours. It is 3 in the morning, on Friday of Parshas Vayeilech. I’m flying right now over Europe, on my way to my home in New York after my concert in Lod. I can’t sleep.
I just want to dance! I don’t want to sleep! After what I saw tonight in Lod, sleep doesn’t interest me. However, I would like to write you all a thank you letter, the holy audience who came to listen to me, “the star” tonight in Lod, when in reality, you were the real stars of the night. Tonight something happened to me, something which has not happened Baruch Hashem, even once in the 35 years that I have sung and performed. During the first hour and a half on stage, I felt really good, both in the songs and the sound, as well as my connection to the audience. I felt like the crowd really was enjoying the songs and the stories, as a preparation for Yom Kippur.
However, when I began singing Unesaneh Tokef, my voice choked! Not only did it choke though, I felt as if someone put a bone or a knife through my vocal chords until I was unable to release any sort of high note.
This sort of thing was so unusual, that immediately the thousands of you were able to realize that I was in distress. In terrible form, I was able to finish Unesaneh Tokef. However, I still had to sing a few more songs like Tanya, Oichila La’Keil, and Rak Tefillah, and what was I going to do?
Suddenly, the crowd started clapping their hands to be Mechazeik me, and were ready and prepared to do whatever it would take to help me out. So I turned to them and requested them to sing Tanya and Oichila La’Keil, and in a single voice they raised their voices and began to sing!
I have never heard a performance like that before. This was singing from the heart, with one intent: to help out the Jew who was standing on stage and needed help. I have no words to express the feelings that I felt. This was pure Ahavas Yisrael. This was a Kiyum of the Mitzvah of Azov Ta’Azov, Hakeim Takim, and a number of other Mitzvos. You gave me the feeling that I absolutely did not need the stage to swallow me up to cover up my embarrassment.
Aderaba! despite what happened, you saved the situation from deep simcha and desire to help, and the joy and Hisorerus that had been in the past hour and a half, continued until the concert was over, two hours after I started it. I will never forget the Chessed and the help that I received from you in Lod!!!
This Thursday night between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, I would like to wish you all a Gmar Chasima Tovah.
May Hashem fill all of your hearts’ requests for good and for blessing. I am looking forward to being in Lod again and telling you “Todah” face to face, and then say to you: “How great it is that we met!”
With closeness of heart,