Irwin Barr was born in 1952 in Saint Louis Park, Minnesota, one of two suburbs with significant Jewish populations. His grandfather, Morris "Moshe" Barosofsky, immigrated to the UnitedStates from Kyiv after his father, Irwin’s great-grandfather, was murdered by Cossacks in the 1880s.
From as early as he can remember, Irwin felt the influence of his family’s legacy. He was given the Hebrew name Yitzchak at birth, in memory of his uncle who tragically died in a train accident when he was only thirty years old.
He was raised with a strong awareness of his Jewish identity; his mother and both grandmothers spoke fluent Yiddish. However, like many children of the 50s and 60s, Irwin felt that his formal Jewish education ended at his Bar Mitzvah.
"We had lots of Yiddishkeit around the house, but we weren’t observant." The first time he reconnected with his Jewish identity was at Herzl Camp in Wisconsin. Then, in high school, inspired by the activist trends of the era he participated in local organizing. "I was well known for being a high-profile athlete, then becoming a high-profile left-wing organizer."
After starting college and doing well in his first semester he felt unmotivated. Deciding to make a change, he got in touch with a friend living on an agricultural commune in Oregon and joined him there.
The Green Parrot Goat Farm attracted a more sophisticated kind of hippie. As the name suggests, they raised goats, bees, harvested honey, and grew a variety of vegetables.
Pretty quickly, he recognized that life on the commune was unsustainable. Some people worked while others did almost nothing. The reality wasn’t living up to the ideal. He went on to pursue a career, eventually going to medical school and starting his own practice.
During this period, he rekindled his relationship with his summer camp girlfriend, Heidi, after losing contact with her for six years. It was a lonely, stormy night in Northern Minnesota and on a whim, Irwin picked up the phone and called her. She answered and happened to be at home in Duluth, Minnesota. He got in the car and drove five hundred miles to see her. He proposed that evening. Four decades later they are still happily married with two grandchildren.
Irwin and Heidi first connected with Chabad in Bozeman, Montana. They didn’t know what to expect but were eager to explore a new kind of Jewish community. They met Rabbi Chaim and Chavie and were drawn to how wise, charismatic, and fun they were.
"I found an authenticity that reminded me of summer camp. I was also drawn to the simple concept of a minyan (a qorum of ten men necessary for communal prayer). I feel a sense of purpose, assisting people in experiencing the mitzvah of prayer."
The Torah service is undeniably the highlight. "I’m a Levite, and since we don’t have Kohanim all the time, I serve as the designated Levite to stand in for the Kohanim."
Running a medical practice in Northern California consumed a significant portion of his time. However, retirement has granted him the opportunity to delve into his spiritual side and explore his Jewish identity.
Commemorating a yahrtzeit holds immense significance for Irwin. In 2021, he decided to honor his uncle, his namesake, by commemorating his yhartzeit. He researched the Hebrew date and recited Kadish for him for the first time. Last year, in 2022, he decided to do it again.
When he arrived at Chabad for the service, he was overcome with emotion, feeling the grief for his uncle’s untimely and tragic passing. He describes standing in the synagogue, prayerbook in hand, struggling to recite the kadish in between sobs. The only other time he felt this way was when his mother passed away.
Irwin says that participating at Chabad has helped him reevaluate a lot of things. “I won’t observe all 613 commandments, but I strive to honor the Shabbos, I don’t eat pork and shellfish, and I don’t mix milk with meat. I try to make a reasonable attempt to follow some pretty reasonable requests from G-d.
"I’m not missing anything in my life, I just see this as an opportunity. Rabbi Chaim is forty years old and I’m seventy. He’s very knowledgeable and if you have that kind of teacher available, you want to take advantage of that especially out in the middle of Montana. Rabbi Chaim would stand out in any setting, but here in Bozeman, especially."