Getting It Done, and Doing It Right, in Houston: Yakov Polatsek

Yakov Polatsek has made it his mission to build Jewish life in the Bayou City. Courtesy of Yakov Polatsek

The principal was nervous. One year into his tenure as head of Houston’s Yeshiva Torat Emet (YTE) day school, Rabbi Yerachmiel Garfield was facing a massive budget deficit. He glanced at the calendar: October 17. Payroll was already two days late. The teachers, he knew, were getting restless. He needed advice, and he knew the person to ask. Yakov Polatsek, a local businessman and school parent, was known for his financial acumen—and for having connections that stretched well beyond their own nascent community.

But an hour later, sitting in a Starbucks with Polatsek, the rabbi got more than a pep talk and a phone number. “He sat with me for half an hour, called his wife, took money from one place, borrowed from another place and addressed the deficit,” Rabbi Garfield recalls. “From that moment, by default, he took financial responsibility for the school.”

Polatsek (pronounced “Polat-chek”) is in the business of taking responsibility. The principal and founder of Interra Capital Group, a boutique private equity firm specializing in real estate and construction, Polatsek, who serves on the OU Board of Directors, has made it his mission to build and nurture Jewish life in the Bayou City. As in the school budget crisis, he works largely behind the scenes and eschews the credit for his accomplishments. “In a young community like Houston, it’s very easy to make a difference just by showing up and doing something,” he says. But in the years since Polatsek met with Rabbi Garfield, his responsibilities have grown exponentially—along with Houston’s Jewish community.

Second Growth

Until recently, Orthodox life in Houston was a story of boom and bust. In the early twentieth century, the city absorbed a large cohort of observant Jewish immigrants from Russia who established a thriving community. Houston’s economy, however, proved inhospitable to many who were used to life in the Old World. The oil bust of the 1980s sent even more families fleeing to the East Coast, and when Polatsek and his wife, Frumie, arrived as a young couple in 2000, they found a few dwindling congregations that struggled to scrape together a minyan for Minchah-Maariv: “Even with two shuls together, they still had to pay these two old Russian men who lived nearby in assisted living to come,” Polatsek recalls.

In fact, it was the poor state of Jewish life in the city that drew the couple there. A graduate of Ohr Somayach’s Ohr Lagolah kiruv training program, Polatsek had committed to spend a year or two putting his skills to work before settling down on the East Coast. A job as executive director of the fledgling Torah Outreach Resource Center of Houston (TORCH) was a perfect match for Polatsek, who combined an MBA program at Boston University with the traditional year of learning after his marriage.

“He sat with me for half an hour, called his wife, took money from one place, borrowed from another place and addressed the deficit . . . From that moment, by default, he took financial responsibility for the school.”

A combination of kollel and adult education center, TORCH was designed to attract young yeshivah families while bolstering Houston’s existing community. It began with just four members, among them Rabbi Yaakov Nagel, who moved to Houston in 1998. “We were just trying to spread Torah to the people here. We didn’t know what we were doing, but we cared, and I guess it resonated,” says Rabbi Nagel. The organization, with Polatsek at the helm, achieved its goal. “People started moving here, and there was traction,” Rabbi Nagel says. “It’s like a snowball—once it’s big, it gets huge.”

Houston’s appeal for young Jewish couples, especially in the beginning, was largely economic. The low cost of living—home prices are about 40 percent lower than in the tri-state area—combined with its pro-business environment (Texas does not have state income taxes) drew aspiring entrepreneurs. And the people were friendly. “There isn’t that eat-or-be-eaten, kill-or-be-killed mentality,” Polatsek says. The fourth largest city in America is also home to Texas Medical Center, a massive complex including twenty-one hospitals and the city’s second-largest employer.

As more like-minded families arrived, a community developed around the Young Israel synagogue in Southwest Houston’s Fondren neighborhood. A mesivta and girls’ high school were established. Yeshiva Torat Emet, which opened its doors in 2004 with twelve children, quickly outgrew its first building and is now working on another.

The Polatseks’ two years in Houston stretched to three, then four, then they stopped counting. “We got so involved in the community that we didn’t go through a process of thinking about whether we should stay. It was just a given,” Polatsek says. Five years in, he left TORCH and made good on his long-held intention to start a business, keeping his priorities in mind. “I made a very conscious decision that I would always stay involved in the Jewish community as a volunteer,” he says. “Having had that good training being on the other side of the table, I knew what it takes to be involved and really make a difference.”

Attitude of Abundance

Polatsek’s move into business provided a twofold benefit to the Houston community. Many fledgling Jewish entrepreneurs have found a generous first employer at Interra Capital—and, in Polatsek, an encouraging mentor. “We celebrate entrepreneurship,” he says. “If we’re able to give them the opportunity where they can grow their own businesses and become partners and continue to help the community, that’s a success.” That some of his former employees are now his competitors, he says, might be a problem in another city, but not Houston: “There’s really enough for everyone.”

That attitude of abundance carries over to communal matters as well. At YTE, where Polatsek serves as president of the Board, no student who could benefit from the curriculum is rejected. “The school is bulging,” Rabbi Garfield says. “There are some students who may not be the best fit, and there’s room to say that we shouldn’t take them. Yakov said very clearly, ‘We’ve never let that get in the way, and we won’t let it get in the way now.’” And the good vibes extend across communal and denominational lines: “He stays very connected to a wide range of leadership no matter who they are,” the rabbi adds (Polatsek also sits on the Board of Houston’s Jewish Federation). “It’s a kiddush Hashem, and it’s also of great value to our community. We’re an extremely well-liked organization across the board due to his leadership.”

Houston’s Yeshiva Torat Emet (YTE) students enjoying recess. Courtesy of YTE

While life in an out-of-town community is generally slower paced, it’s this orientation toward positivity and peace that sets Houston apart, several residents say. “It’s a non-judgmental place, but there are a lot of opportunities for growth, a very rare mix,” Rabbi Nagel says. “The people are the biggest asset that Houston has. They’re genuine, they’re available, they’re real people.” Polatsek concurs: “It’s a calmer life. A lot of the pressures that you have in larger communities just don’t exist here.”

An active spokesman for the community, Polatsek, who grew up in Monsey, New York, has convinced a large portion of his own family: five of his siblings and his parents now live in Houston.

The rapid growth the Houston community has experienced inevitably creates some pain points. Several years ago, as demand for housing in the Fondren neighborhood outpaced supply, some grew concerned about the future. Then a new project was announced: land near the synagogue that had been purchased cheaply during the bust years would now be used to build spacious homes featuring kitchens with dual sinks, spacious laundry rooms and appliances equipped with Sabbath mode. The Northfield development rose quickly and without fanfare, a project of Interra Capital. Nobody who knew Polatsek was surprised. “He’s a smart guy, a creative guy,” Rabbi Nagel says. “If there’s something he can do, he’ll do it.”

S. Schreiber is a freelance writer.