FROM FLATBUSH TO FEDERAL PRISON

A Jewish Echo Exclusive

From Flatbush to Federal Prison

Ita Yankovich

On Pesach, we gather around the Seder table to celebrate our redemption from centuries of bondage in Egypt. This concept can be difficult to grasp for many, especially in a democratic society. However, one person who truly understands the significance of this theme is Elliot Resnick. A local Orthodox Jew, Resnick was imprisoned for several months for being present at the U.S. Capitol on January 6 but was recently pardoned by President Trump. He spoke exclusively with the Jewish Echo about his experience and how it has shaped his perspective on Pesach and his life.

What is your background? What’s your involvement with politics?  

I grew up with very opinionated parents.  My father, Dr. Lawrence Resnick, was an expert in hypertension (and one of the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s doctors) and a Renaissance man who loved America and the philosophy on which it was founded.  My mother, Molly Resnick, was an NBC News producer who changed many of her views when she became frum in 1979.  

I clearly remember when Israel signed the disastrous Oslo Accords with the PLO in 1993.  That probably was my political awakening moment; I was only 10 years old then.  I also recall watching the Republican and Democratic national conventions in 1996.  When Yitzhak Rabin died, Clinton cried at his funeral.  I remember my father remarking that he cried in admiration: “Rabin was the only person he ever met who lied better than he did.”

I grew up listening to talk radio and always rooted for Republican candidates, but I never really got involved in politics until Trump ran for president in 2015.  That’s when I started publishing opinion articles in conservative media and founded Jews4DonaldTrump.com.

What were your intentions in going to the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6? Were you going to protest or cover the event as a journalist?

I thought I was going to a rally since a rally at the Capitol had been advertised in the days leading up to January 6.  But when I got to the Capitol, I saw no rally, stage, or cordoned-off area – nothing.  Just people milling about everywhere.  It was bizarre.  I couldn’t figure out what was going on.

I didn’t go as a journalist.  I was the chief editor of The Jewish Press at the time, but the paper generally only covers Jewish news, and I didn’t see anything Jewish about the rally.  I went as a concerned citizen.

Can you describe what the scene was like at the Capitol? Did you suspect your involvement would lead to a prison sentence?

People were mad.  They wanted their voices heard.  They were shouting, “Stop the steal!  Stop the steal!”

According to mainstream polls, 70 percent of Republicans, 30 percent of Independents, and 10 percent of Democrats thought something was fishy about the election.  However, the media establishment and political class essentially ignored them.  Their attitude was, “You can scream until you’re blue in the face.  We couldn’t care less.”  Is it any wonder that people exploded in anger?

To answer your second question, I didn’t think I would suffer any consequences for my involvement.  Nothing happened to the overwhelming majority of leftist protesters who burned, looted, and murdered in the summer of 2020.  It didn’t occur to me that I – who had done 10 times less – would land in prison.

What was your sentence? Do you think your position as editor of The Jewish Press played a role in your conviction? Do you think your punishment was excessive?

I was sentenced to four months in prison, four months of home detention, and two years of probation; I was also ordered to pay $10,000.  It sounds like a lenient sentence, but you have to add to that the 20 months from my arrest to my imprisonment, during which time my life was effectively on hold.  Besides, in my opinion, I should have gotten nothing.  So a sentence of any length was excessive.  

I don’t think my position as editor of The Jewish Press affected my sentence in any way.  It may have delayed my arrest, though, since the government may have initially wanted to avoid the optics of going after a journalist.

You were quoted on X as saying that the protestors are “heroes.” Do you still feel that way?

Yes.  Anyone who follows politics has probably encountered the statement attributed to Edmund Burke: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”  The January 6 protesters saw a grave injustice and did something while everyone else complained.  Of course, breaking the law is generally immoral, but extreme circumstances call for extreme measures.  Many frum Jews ignored draconian Covid laws. Well, on January 6, protesters pushed past guards to enter a building.  I don’t think that’s a huge deal.  Leftists storm state Capitols all the time.

Why did you plead guilty?

Because my defense was moral, not legal.  And no jury in Washington, DC – where Biden received 92 of the vote – would have accepted that defense.   

I admit to doing what the government said I did.  What was my crime?  For two and a half seconds, I held the wrist of a policeman who was pepper-spraying someone.  Of course, that’s nothing compared to the behavior of leftists during the summer of 2020.  They toppled statues, sprayed vile graffiti on government buildings, burned police cars, stole merchandise, and otherwise caused between $1-2 billion of damage.  What happened to these people?  Most of them got off scot-free. 

How did your family react?

Some family members supported me fully.  Others weren’t thrilled that I had gone into the Capitol but still thought it outrageous that the government would come after me while doing nothing to radical leftist protesters.

Describe a typical day in prison. 

The lights turned on at 6:00 A.M. and turned off at 10:00 P.M.  People often ask me if I was scared to be around criminals and gangsters, but baruch Hashem, I was in a low-security prison, so the inmates weren’t violent or dangerous.  I played basketball, soccer, pickleball, or ping-pong for at least an hour or two every day.  Otherwise, I read most of the day.  During my 77 days in prison, I completed 52 books. 

Did you also learn?

Yes.  Thanks to the example of another frum Jew who was incarcerated a few years ago, I learned a daf a day of Maseches Sanhedrin.  I’m completing the last few daf at home now.  I also went through the Chumash commentary of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch every single week. 

What did you miss most in prison? 

I missed taking a shower with decent water pressure. To be honest, I didn’t miss much else. Life is simpler without the distractions of phones and social media. 

Was there a Jewish population in your prison?  Did you befriend any inmates? 

The prison – which was in Danbury, CT – had five other frum Jews besides me.  On Friday night, roughly 20 Jews gathered for Minchah, Maariv, and a Shabbos seudah.  We also often saw each other at meals during the week.  The dining area at Danbury is “cliquish.”  It has a Jewish table, an Italian table, a New Jersey table, a Baltimore table, etc.   

Thank G-d, I did make several friends at Danbury.  In a way, it was like being in elementary school again (or camp).  You make friends because you’re doing similar things with the same people every single day.  

Was being religious an issue while you were there?

Thank G-d, no.  A frum Jew can request and receive hot double-wrapped Meal Mart meals every lunch and supper.  Carrying on Shabbos isn’t a problem since the courtyard area is enclosed on all four sides by buildings.  (There isn’t much to carry in prison anyway; it’s not like you have keys.)  Shaving was a problem since the prison doesn’t provide electric shavers.  So I just went to the barber every two weeks and asked for a shave with a hair-cutting machine.

Do you regret going to the Capitol?

No.  The only thing I regret is that the Republicans and conservatives threw their own supporters under the bus.  They could have leveraged the chaos we caused to push for an audit of the election just like Democratic politicians leveraged the 2020 riots to push for “racial justice.”  Instead, they self-righteously denounced us and ran for the hills.  

How and when did you hear about the pardon? How do you imagine things would have been different if Trump had not been elected? 

I was playing sports in the prison gym when the pardons were reported on the news.  Someone watching TV told me afterward.  I was pleasantly surprised since the rumor was that only 1,000 of us (out of a total of 1,600) would be immediately pardoned, and I wasn’t sure I would be among the 1,000.  

I thought the pardon was a fitting end to my saga, though.  I reported to prison on Election Day and was released on Inauguration Day.  Had Trump not been elected, I would be sitting at home now under house arrest and paying $10,000 to the government for damage that January 6 protesters ostensibly caused to the Capitol.

How did you celebrate your release?

I’m a bit understated by nature, so I didn’t do anything special.  Besides, my sentence wasn’t that long.  In prison, you meet people who were sentenced to five years, 10 years, 20 years, or even more.  So you learn to put things in perspective.  

Do you keep in touch with anyone from prison? 

So far, I’ve been in touch with three people.  We’ll see if that lasts.  When you’re a kid and leave camp or high school, everyone promises to stay in touch, but when a friendship is based on memories of the past, it often fizzles with time. 

How has this experience changed you?

Well, I lost my job at The Jewish Press over it.  I suppose I also have less faith in the Republican and conservative establishment than I used to.  But overall, I try to remain positive, and it really hasn’t affected me that much.