How a shiva visit in Israel became a one-man solidarity mission to spread music and cheer to soldiers and evacuees.

After the horrific events of October 7—I was in Israel when the attack occured—my heart was aching, sharing in the grief and horror.

Though I had a U.S. wedding gig that I came back for, I felt very connected from afar. In January I was posting, trying to coordinate a morale-boosting performance for troops and displaced civilians. At that point,no plans had materialized. I knew I could share something mutually inspiring through the joy and power of music. I wanted to bring comfort to those putting their lives on the line for the Jewish people,and those who had been uprooted after the attacks.

Then I was invited to join friends from Israel on a singles weekend in Europe. I hung around afterwards, sightseeing and making some religious pilgrimages. As a kohen, I was grateful for kohen accommodations at holy grave sites like those of the Chatam Sofer (Slovakia) and Reb Shayale (Hungary). I even recorded for an upcoming release (in Prague for my song,” Don’t Stop Hopin,’’ live since mid-July).

While in Hungary at R’ Shayale’s kever, I got a chilling message from my dear friend Chaim David about the passing of … Could it be? I couldn’t believe it. “BDE. Elyakeem Kinstlinger.” “He just messaged me this morning. It can’t be him?!” After I sent a concerned voice note to Chaim David, I got back a sad emoji. I sent back a voice note crying, in a state of breakdown and Chaim David responded: “Be comforted, heilige kohen tzedek!”

My dear friend Elyakeem, z”l, had messaged me that very morning suggesting someone to ask for feedback for my music video that he stars in, for my song “Where I Wanna Go Now” (single released under Jeremy Asher, music video soon, iyH).

Elyakeem was always willing to “show up”—whether for something fun and musical, or to help sort out with a car issue—or even to go along to the hospital—and he’d bring an upbeat spirit, puns and empathy along for the ride.

Whenever he could, he’d come to my wedding gigs and help get video—he loved to be a “video storyteller” (and also said he was in my “backup air guitar band!”) I believe the last time we were in person together was on Nov 5, at the wedding I had to get back to the States for—he helped out with his “video storytelling” style of getting clips for me, as well as with his positive energy and more.

A few days later, we almost got together, and he said: “Ok, see you another time.” Alas…

Elyakeem was effervescent, full of joie de vivre, selfless and, as Rabbi Neil Fleischman put it, “the best at being a friend.” I could not believe Elyakeem was gone.

I felt pulled to make my way to Israel before the shiva for Elyakeem ended, though I also felt in utter disbelief— could this be real? My dear, dear friend Elyakeem Kinstlinger had left this world. I flew from Prague to Israel on Erev Shabbos, after a late night packing and participating in what I think was the second night in a row of memorial Zooming for Elyakeem. I arrived in the most beautiful place in the world, but for the most unhappy of reasons. I had longed to get back and visit the Jewish homeland, but not like this.

On the last night of shiva, I was standing outside when I noticed a woman in Modi’in wearing a shirt saying: “Serving Those Who Serve.” I asked her if she was involved with helping soldiers. She was! I told her about my friend’s tragic passing and that I wanted to play music for soldiers to uplift them. Could she help me make connections? She could, and she even knew Elyakeem’s mother (a wonderful woman, Anita) and would love to do something in Anita’s son’s memory.

One thing led to another. I was looking into renting a car and my dear friend’s former boss graciously offered to help. This helped me initiate playing for soldiers and evacuees. I utilized social media to make connections to arrange concerts for soldiers and evacuees. A friend suggested a rabbi in Eilat. I called, mentioning wanting to play music for soldiers today or tomorrow, and he said he could give me a contact number, but warned they would likely laugh at me since such events were planned more in advance. I called the new contact at a base in Eilat who readily agreed and asked, “When?” (I assumed he meant what day down the line, not what time today) “Well, I’m in Jerusalem now … maybe this evening?” He was fine with a last- minute performance!

As I neared Eilat, it seemed like there might be a hitch. I was alerted that final clearance wasn’t given, but it should be—I was nearing the base and it was quite a distance from Jerusalem. Luckily, somehow everything worked out and they swiftly let me in when I arrived. I got there and didn’t know what to expect. Would they like it, would I be their style? Somehow we hit it off; I think they could feel the love and appreciation, and any language (although many did speak a decent English) or cultural differences fell by the wayside, and we bonded. I started getting song requests and learning what the soldiers liked (Leonard Cohen, Ofra Chaza, Matisyahu and Metallica were some crowd favorites). Soldiers even started dancing—there was real ruach in the air.

Through the Modi’in connection, I played at a soldiers’ barbecue in Tkuma. They asked me back and at first I had a scheduling conflict as I was to be playing up north for other soldiers (I heard that apparently they got Akiva that time instead, so they did fine!). I was asked to play on a base in Kfar Aza from a father who had heard me perform in Tkuma and wanted me to play for his son’s unit, and though I’d already been concerned about driving to Tkuma as it’s close to Gaza, I ended up doing it and it was extremely uplifting. There was a groom in the crowd and we did a lively “Od Yishama,” “M’heira” and more. And it actually worked out to return and perform back at Tkuma right after the Kfar Aza base, with back-to-back performances that evening.

One Erev Shabbos, I bumped into Rabbi Sender Geisinsky, marching and singing en route to the Old City. We sang “Just One Shabbos” together, and he told me of a program at the Prima Kings hotel on Motzei Shabbos, for evacuees. I’d been wanting to play for evacuees, and right as he was leaving to catch a flight back to the States I arrived and he connected me so I could uplift the evacuees with music, and in turn uplift myself too. I kept networking, trying to see who else I could bring music and cheer to. For evacuees I also played at the Prima Millenium Hotel in Ra’anana, and at a couple of hotels in Tiberias. No matter the size of the audience, I felt I was making a difference, one strum at a time.

Playing music in memory of Elyakeem, who passed away so suddenly, was deeply meaningful to me, especially as I was still struggling to accept the reality of his passing. He genuinely loved making people happy. I also decided to dedicate the music I played for the soldiers and evacuees to the memory of my dear father, Dr. Allen Gaisin, z”l, whose fifth yahrzeit we commemorated this past week, which felt fitting.

I was deeply moved to be performing for the soldiers protecting our Jewish homeland, as well as for the evacuees who are suffering from the war and unable to return to their homes.

In Eilat, a soldier gifted me with a special “Bring Them Home Now” dog tag necklace, and unfortunately, the chain broke shortly afterwards. I’ve been keeping it in a bag, and at the moment in my front shirt pocket, still holding it dear. There is meaning in the brokenness. From all that’s transpired since Oct. 7, our hearts are more fragmented than any broken necklace chain could be. May there soon be healing for all.

To Elyakeem, z”l, whom I talked about to the soldiers and evacuees at times while performing: I hope you were smiling from above; you always wanted to spread joy and light. If you were there, I think you would have been the life of the party. May we meet again soon, with the coming of Moshiach and Techias HaMeisim (Redemption times when we believe God will resuscitate the dead).

For a YouTube Playlist of musical highlights from these performances and other matters referenced in this article, please see https://bit.ly/upliftingsoldiers

Jeremy Gaisin runs a wedding band (Ratzon Orchestra) and produces and releases original music. Jeremy releases mainstream music under the artist name “Jeremy Asher” and Jewish music under the artist name “Yirmi G.” He loves to travel and to bring people together and uplift people through music. He just released a song called “Don’t Stop Hopin’,” and has numerous projects in progress on the way and hopes to be releasing more content to uplift you soon!