A Prayer on the Runway: How a Delay Sparked Something Beautiful

Rabbi Chaim Tzvi Konikov, a Chabad emissary in Florida’s Space Coast, is deeply committed to saying Kaddish every day in memory of his late mother. He hadn’t missed a single day since she passed away ten months earlier—and he didn’t plan to start now.

But when his flight from Orlando to New York was delayed on the runway for over an hour, it seemed there was no way he’d make it to a synagogue in time for Mincha. “I even asked a flight attendant if I could get off,” he later shared. “But she said, ‘We’re already on the runway, there’s no way to move.’”

Most people might have just sighed and given up—but Rabbi Konikov couldn’t. So he stood up, heart pounding, and began walking up and down the aisles, searching for fellow Jews. “I needed ten Jewish men for a minyan,” he explained. “I had to try.”

At first, things looked uncertain. Only one man in the back row admitted he was Jewish—and agreed to join. Then four more. “We’re not religious,” they said, “but we’ll help.” Still, it wasn’t enough.

As if sent from above, a JetBlue manager sitting nearby overheard and offered to help. “Do you want to make an announcement?” he asked. The rabbi smiled, gently declining. “I’d rather keep it quiet.”

Just then, another man chimed in: “I’m Jewish too.” Now they had eight. Still not enough.

Then came the moment that changed everything: a young man admitted his grandmother was Jewish. “Your mother’s mother?” the rabbi asked. “Yes,” he replied. “Well, that means you’re Jewish too.” The man’s face lit up: “Wow… I didn’t even know.”

Still short one person, the rabbi returned to his seat, heart heavy. That’s when the man behind him quietly whispered, “I wasn’t honest before. I am Jewish.” His mother’s maiden name? Horowitz. “I even know the blessing!” he said, beaming.

“We made it!” the rabbi called to the manager. “We have ten!”

The flight crew invited them to the back of the plane. Rabbi Konikov made sure not to inconvenience the staff, suggesting they wait until the drink service was complete. The men, most of them unfamiliar with prayer, used napkins for kippahs. “I explained what we were about to do,” the rabbi said. “I didn’t want this to feel like a formality.”

He led the prayers slowly, raising his thumb at every “Amen” so those unfamiliar with Hebrew would know when to respond. And respond they did—loudly and proudly, right there in the plane’s galley. One flight attendant even filmed the moment, visibly moved.

“When we finished,” Rabbi Konikov recalled, “I was full of gratitude to Hashem. I thanked everyone from my heart.”

Just then, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom: “We’re clear for takeoff.”

As the plane lifted off, one of the men came over to the rabbi with tears in his eyes. “I’m not involved in Jewish life at all,” he said, “but thank you—for reminding me who I am.”

Sometimes, even on a runway, a soul can take flight.