Brooklyn Matriarch, 101, hit by SUV driver dies 2 weeks later from her injuries fled
An elderly woman who was fatally struck in early April by an unlicensed SUV driver as she crossed a Brooklyn street was a Hasidic Jewish matriarch who fled Russia after World War II on an escape train to Poland, family and police said Wednesday.
On April 8 around 8:25 p.m., Taibel Brod — whom family members said was 99 years old — was crossing with a walk signal at the intersection of Brooklyn Ave. and Montgomery St. in Crown Heights, and had made it midway across Montgomery St., when the 65-year-old driver of a 2023 GMC Yukon SUV, traveling south on Brooklyn Ave., made a left turn going east onto Montgomery St., striking the victim, cops said.
'She walked every morning from Crown Heights to Brookdale Hospital, she used to feed patients there for many, many years,' said the victim's youngest son, Yisroel Brod, 70, who is a fundraising consultant.
Taibel Brod was a longtime resident in Crown Heights, and the matriarch to a large Chabad family, and the mother of five children — three boys and two girls — with many grandchildren, the son said.
She was born in Kremenchuk, Ukraine, and left Russia with many other adherents of Hasidism on the famous escape trains to Poland. She ended up in the Displaced Persons camp of Poking, according to an obituary. When Taibel Brod left Russia after World War II, she left with another person's passport to escape, the family said.
'She came to a displaced person's camp in Germany in 1946 at Pocking, Germany. That's where she met my father. My two sisters were born there,' Yisorel Brod said. 'She came to New York in 1951 and settled in Brownsville and now in Crown Heights.'
Cops, who had reported Taibel Brod was 101 years old, arrested the driver, Menachem Shagalow, the day of the accident, charging him with aggravated unlicensed operator, failure to exercise due care, and unlicensed operation of a motor vehicle.
Yisorel Brod described the accident as a 'tragedy.'
Taibel Brod was transported by EMS to Maimonides Medical Center in stable condition with injuries to the head after the accident. She died nearly two weeks later, succumbing to her injuries on April 20, according to police.
Her family described her as a 'devout' person who did her own shopping, washing and took care of herself as best she could.
'The hardship in her youth in Russia gave her the strength to go forward. She survived communism,' said her son Yosef Bord, 73, a building engineer from Los Angeles, Calif.
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Yahoo
12 hours ago
- Yahoo
True crime: A judge, his wife vanish at house 70 years ago, leaving blood trail to the sea
This story is part of a true crime series by The Palm Beach Post. Victims: Judge Curtis E. Chillingworth, 58, and his wife, Marjorie, 56 Killers: Bobby Lincoln and Floyd 'Lucky' Holzapfel; hit ordered by Judge Joseph Peel Jr. Where: In the ocean off Manalapan Date: June 15, 1955 Palm Beach County Circuit Judge Curtis E. Chillingworth — one of the most influential and important men in Palm Beach County — didn't show up for a morning hearing at the courthouse on June 15, 1955. A stickler for rules, Chillingworth was never late. Something was wrong. The night before, he and his wife, Marjorie, had had dinner with friends in West Palm Beach, then returned about 10 p.m. to their oceanfront Manalapan bungalow on A1A. The next day, a carpenter showed up to build a playground for the couple's grandchildren and found only an open door and a smashed porch light above it. Police found a trail of blood on steps down to the beach. What happened to them would not be known for five years. Their murder 70 years ago would be considered Palm Beach County's crime of the century. More in The Post's true crime series True crime: Read about clown murder, local serial killer in Palm Beach Post series The pioneering Chillingworths were a prominent family of achievers. They arrived in Florida in 1892. Curtis' grandfather, Richard Jolley Chillingworth, served as West Palm Beach mayor and sheriff of Dade County from 1896 until 1901. (Palm Beach County was part of Dade until 1909.) His father, Charles, had been city attorney for West Palm Beach and Lantana, and Curtis himself was the youngest judge in Florida history when he was elected county judge in 1920 at age 24. Gravesites for all three sit in West Palm's historic cemetery, Woodlawn, but Curtis' body isn't there nor is his wife's. More on the case The crime of the century (like it's never been heard before) Unlike his father and grandfather, Curtis Chillingworth was born in West Palm Beach — in 1896. He was one of seven seniors graduating from Palm Beach High School (later to become Dreyfoos School of the Arts) in 1913 and graduated from law school at the University of Florida at the top of his class. At age 21, he returned to work at his father's law firm. He was elected circuit judge in 1922, holding that title until his death. It wasn't long after he went to work for his father, however, that he was called to service in the Navy during World War I, serving convoy duty overseas aboard the USS Minneapolis. At age 48, he would be called again to serve during World War II. Chillingworth was stationed in London and participated in planning the invasion of Europe, according to a bio from the Palm Beach County Bar Association. In 1920, Chillingworth married Marjorie Crouse McKinley, a Cornell University student. Their fathers had practiced law together and were good friends. Chillingworth's middle name was Eugene, after Marjorie's father, Eugene McKinley. The couple had three daughters. In addition to being accomplished, Chillingworth was highly ethical. And he was keeping his eye on another judge who wasn't. During the '50s, West Palm Beach and surrounding communities were considered small-town. Gambling and moonshine pervaded, a temptation for corrupt officials to make money off it. One of them was part-time munincipal Judge Joseph Peel, 36. Chillingworth had been keeping an eye on him for years and had already given Peel a warning because Peel had represented both sides of a divorce case. In those days, attorneys could be judges and practice law at the same time. Peel also was involved in the local bolita, an illegal numbers game, and in moonshine rackets. He would tip local operators before a police raid because he was the one signing off on the warrants. In return, they would pay him at least $500 a month. Peel's judicial salary was $3,000 a year. The day the Chillingworths died, Peel was due in court and believed Chillingworth was preparing to get him disbarred. He had told a client she was divorced but never filed the paperwork. She got remarried and had a child before finding out her divorce wasn't legal. For $2,500, Peel hired two thugs. Floyd 'Lucky' Holzapfel and Bobby Lincoln landed a boat on the sand of the Chillingworths' Manalapan beach house at 1 a.m. on June 15, 1955. They were in cahoots with Peel in the protection racket. Holzapfel, 36, was a West Palm Beach garage attendant and bootlegger, and Lincoln, 35, ran pool halls in Riviera Beach. Holzapfel knocked on the door while Lincoln hid in the bushes. The judge answered in his pajamas. As they walked the couple down the stairs to the beach, Marjorie, in her nightgown, screamed. Holzapfel pistol-whipped her. It was her blood that formed the trail. Judge Chillingworth offered them $200,000 to let them go to no avail. The couple's devotion to each other would echo in their final words. Holzapfel and Lincoln rowed the couple 2 miles out to sea in a small boat. Holzapfel weighed down Marjorie, 56, with diving weights. 'Ladies first,' he said, before pushing her overboard. The judge, 58, told his wife: 'Honey, remember, I love you.' She replied: 'I love you, too.' After he lost his wife, the judge, who had wriggled his feet free, jumped in on his own, but soon he surfaced. Holzapfel quickly pulled him into the boat, wound a rope with an anchor around Chillingworth's neck and tossed him back in. They have never been found. Now how do we know these details? One of the thugs would spill the beans. In 1959, Holzapfel bragged to a friend that he knew who killed the Chillingworths. The friend, James Yenzer, turned on him. Yenzer along with former West Palm Beach police officer Jim Wilber lured Holzapfel to a room at the Holiday Inn in Melbourne, got him drunk and got him to spill about the murders. Little did Holzapfel know, but an officer from the Florida Sheriff's Bureau was in the room next door, recording. Peel was sentenced to life in prison. He died in 1982, nine days after he was paroled with terminal cancer. Holzapfel was sentenced to death, which was later changed to life in prison. He died in 1996. Lincoln was never charged because he testified against the other two. He died in 2004 at St. Mary's Medical Center in West Palm Beach. After the judge's death, relatives found a draft of a letter he wrote that was addressed to Gov. Leroy Collins. Chillingworth was announcing his intention to retire from the bench on June 16, 1955 — the day after his death. The date appeared to be erased and changed to July 1. "Because of my health and for several reasons, I feel I should retire," Chillingworth wrote. An empty grave at Woodlawn Cemetery memorializes the Chillingworths, whose bodies were never found. Chillingworth Drive north of Okeechobee Boulevard runs past a West Palm Beach park named after the couple. Two West Palm natives, Jonathan Paine and John Maass, knew the case well. Their parents had grown up in West Palm Beach and knew the Chillingworths. Paine and Maass got ahold of the recordings of Holzapfel's confession and restored them, turning them into a podcast called "Chillingworth." TV shows, such as the series, "A Crime to Remember," have featured the crime. Despite all the hoopla, the meaning of the murders came down to one thing: an upstanding man standing up for justice. "The heinous act was considered the 'Florida Crime of the Century' having been committed and directed solely at the administration of justice, as a consequence of the Judge's steadfast efforts to preserve the integrity of Florida's legal system," the county Bar Association bio stated. Holly Baltz, who has a passion for true crime, is the investigations editor at The Palm Beach Post. You can reach her at hbaltz@ Support local investigative journalism. Subscribe today. This article originally appeared on Palm Beach Post: True crime: Judge Chillingworth, his wife vanish, leaving only blood trail to the sea
16 hours ago
Austria falls silent for a minute as questions remain about the motive for a deadly school shooting
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Los Angeles Times
16 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
Volunteers flocked to scrub protest graffiti off the Japanese American National Museum
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