“It will go down in the annals as one of the more notable November snowstorms.”

climatologist, Rutgers University

According to many experts, at the beginning of the 21st century, we live in a post-modern world, an age of reason, a digital age where we communicate by wondrous means, using personal devices never imagined by our ancestors. Any belief in supernatural happenings, unexplained disasters and phenomena, demons, ghosts is just so much nonsense, or so the criticism goes.

However, when you make even a cursory effort you’ll soon discover that the Talmud Bavli describes in detail the existence of demons. You may consider such references as merely allegorical, not to be taken literally; nevertheless, several Tanaim and Amoraim are praised widely from having exorcised such creatures, Acha ben Jacob of Paphunia near Pumpedita to name only one. The ancient pages of Tractates Pesachim, Gittin and Chaggigah contain lengthy descriptions of demons, known in Hebrew variously as shedim, mazzikin or ruchot. In a notable baraitah, for example, the rabbis learned:

Demons possess the following characteristics; three resemble the traits of angels and three resemble human qualities. Their angelic traits are as follows: both angels and demons have wings, are capable of flying throughout the world, and last both can foretell the future. Demons resemble humans in the following three ways: they can eat and drink like humans, have reproductive capabilities and finite lives, i.e. they can die…Tractate Chaggigah, Chap. 2, p 16, Amud 1

Many Midrashim contain tales of specific demons, including Lilith (chief she-demon), Mavet, Resheph, Dever and Azazel. Foremost among them, considered “king” of the demons, is none other than Ashmedai or Asmodeus, who is said to have helped King Solomon build the Second Temple during biblical times. Ashmedai, allegedly the husband of Lilith, did so by presenting Solomon with the legendary shamir, a fabulous creature capable of cutting through or disintegrating stone, iron and diamond. Since metal tools were not permitted in the construction of the Temple, Ashmedai’s gift to Solomon was an essential component of God’s construction plans. Ashmedai, it is told, was tricked into revealing the whereabouts of the shamir to the king, and as a result sought revenge from Solomon. The bottom line is that Ashmedai, according to tradition, could, as a demon, use his powers to do both good and evil. It was said that he studied each day at both the heavenlyYeshiva Shel Ma’alah and the Yeshiva Shel Matah, indicating that he wasn’t exclusively an evil being. But he was deemed the source of much malevolence to mankind. Described fantastically in the literature as possessing the breast of a man, the leg of a rooster, a serpent’s tail, three heads (one of a man spitting fire, one of a sheep and one of a bull), riding a lion with dragon wings and neck, Ashmedai was definitely believed to be frightening to behold. Finally, it was said Ashmedai had legions of unsavory demons and devils at his command, ready to assist him in troubling mankind.

As a young boy, Jake Rabinowitz studied these aforementioned Talmudic and Midrashic references to Ashmedai and other assorted demons, but completely doubted their existence and scoffed at such tales. One night last year, however, Jake encountered a creature so bizarre, so terrifying, that I am certain he no longer is so sure of the nonexistence of such evil beings.

Do you remember the storm last November that came into Teaneck with a suddenness that caught our region most unprepared? You remember—that was the storm where Mayor DeBlasio declared that “bad luck” turned the storm into “hell” for the region. An unspectacular snowfall of five to eight inches accompanied by high winds surprised the population late that mid-November morning. Its effect on our region was quite astonishing. Beginning in the early afternoon, the storm devastated the evening rush hour: trips that normally took 15 or 20 minutes extended to over two hours; pileups of disabled vehicles littered the highways throughout our area. The upper level of the George Washington Bridge turned into a parking lot after an icy 20-vehicle crash, with drivers abandoning their cars. The local and regional news broadcasts showed videos of unusually backed-up highways and local streets. It made no difference if you were using public or private transportation, as all roads came to a standstill. Drivers pounded their fists on their steering wheels to no avail as the traffic jams exceeded anything in even the most jaded drivers’ memories.

As reports came in that day of the unprecedentedly lengthy highway commuting delays, Jake had been fortunate enough to be working at home; despite the nasty weather, bored with the prospect of eating leftovers for dinner, he decided to head out to West Englewood Avenue to pick up a take-out order instead. He was also somewhat curious if the road conditions were possibly as bad as was reported.

Looking out his dining room window at the unplowed street before him, Jake thought:

“It doesn’t look that bad; it can’t possibly be that bad!”

Jake put on his heaviest winter coat to protect himself from the harsh, cold winds he would face. His SUV was equipped with all-weather tires, so, after clearing the car of snowfall, he ventured forth slowly along River Road and continued up West Englewood Avenue until crossing the State Street bridge. It was very tough going in fact. After 15 difficult minutes, seeking someplace—any place—to park, he made his way to Palisade Avenue and parked alongside the railroad siding near Votee Park. The street before him was covered with a thin coat of ice that made walking quite perilous. Upon crossing Palisade Avenue to the Votee Park side of the street, his attention was drawn toward a bright glow that appeared near the middle little league baseball field.

“Is something on fire?” Jake asked himself, afraid that lightning might have caused a possible conflagration.

Upon closer inspection, Jake saw that the glow was coming from a tall oak tree that rose above the visitors’ dugout. The snow was coming down a bit harder now, and Jake had to remove one of his damp gloves to wipe away the snow that had built up on his black-framed glasses. At first, Jake could not make out the exact source of the glow that had attracted him. All of a sudden, he detected some movement in the wide-spreading tree, maybe 20 feet up in the air. There on a hefty branch extending a good 15 feet above him sat a large, winged creature basking in a fiery glow, moving its head (or should I say heads!) back and forth slowly.

“It must be some kind of bird of prey, a large raptor, owl, eagle or hawk,” Jake thought to himself.

The creature had as yet not noticed Jake staring up at him from below, transfixed.

Suddenly, there was a break in the storm, and the mid-November moon shone directly on the object of Jake’s attention. Jake now saw that the creature possessed not one, but three, heads. The one in the middle was almost human in form and that head was now looking directly at Jake! He began to run toward the street in the direction of West Englewood Avenue, but the ground was now covered with snow. The creature opened his dragon-like wings with a roar and swooped down in Jake’s direction. Sparks flew everywhere as Jake refused to look directly overhead.

“This is no bird!” Jake shouted to himself. “Help!”

There was no one to hear Jake’s cries or near enough to respond. Jake slipped on an icy spot and, on his back, surveyed the frightening image floating almost 20 feet above him: It was hideous!

“Don’t come any closer!” he screamed.

Closing his eyes (with which he could see very little anyway due to the ice and snow), Jake decided to play dead. In a matter of a terrifying minute or two, the creature reared up, snapped its serpent-like tail and flew off toward the north, leaving Jake a frightened, soggy mess on the snow-covered grass of Votee Park.

An hour later, heating up his takeout meal in the microwave, Jake listened to reports on the storm, hoping someone else had seen what he thought he had seen in the park. Sadly, it appeared Jake had an “exclusive.” By the time his wife finally made it home from the school where she worked in Englewood (it took her two hours to complete the normal 15-minute commute), Jake had calmed down somewhat.

“From now on, I’m a believer,” he offered his wife, as they embraced.

“A believer in what?” she asked.

“Don’t ask, just a believer!”

The next day, Jake read Mayor De Blasio’s account of the “hellish” storm and commented to himself, thinking of the demonic figure in the park: “Only time the mayor may have gotten it exactly right!”

Joseph Rotenberg, a frequent contributor to The Jewish Link, has resided in Teaneck for over 45 years with his wife, Barbara. His first collection of short stories and essays, entitled “Timeless Travels: Tales of Mystery, Intrigue, Humor and Enchantment,” was published in 2018 by Gefen Books and is available online at Amazon.com. He is currently working on a follow-up volume of stories and essays.