JACKSON, N.J. – Jackson has two very different conversations going on about Hatzulas Nefashos.
At one end of town this month, volunteers gathered with residents and local political candidates for a ribbon cutting at the Jewish volunteer ambulance service’s new facility. Elliott Shem-Tov, Chris Pollak and Amanda Trombetta accepted invitations, showed up and helped cut the ribbon.
Then came the next Township Council meeting, where their attendance became something to answer for.
The argument wasn’t really about a ribbon.
It was the latest round of a fight that has been simmering around Lakewood and Jackson since Hatzulas Nefashos started operating in 2022. Along the way there have been rabbinical objections, accusations that the organization is duplicating an established service, prank emergency calls, an egged response vehicle, fights over public support and, now, Jackson officials publicly questioning whether the organization should even be regarded as a legitimate ambulance service.
Hatzulas Nefashos has had enough of being called fake by township leaders who support Central Jersey Hatzolah, the latest chapter in a bizarre, bitter, and ugly battle over EMS providers servicing Jackson Township and the growing Orthodox Jewish community.
“We are not fake. Our volunteers are not fake. The patients we help are not fake. And the emergencies we answer are certainly not fake,” the organization said in a Sept. 1 statement addressed to Mayor Jennifer Kuhn and Council President Mordechai Burnstein.
The fight followed Lakewood’s growth into Jackson
Central Jersey Hatzolah has been around for more than 40 years. What began as an EMT service associated with Beth Medrash Govoha grew along with Lakewood, eventually becoming a large volunteer operation handling thousands of calls each year.
Then Lakewood’s population spilled across its borders. That link is important to understand the battle to keep a competing organization out. They are not backed by Lakewood’s rabbinical powerbase at BMG. In fact, BMG has been accused of being the force driving the anger and hate against the new service.
Jackson, Toms River and Howell gained growing Orthodox communities, and the distances involved became greater. Hatzulas Nefashos was created in 2022, with its founders saying there was room for another volunteer service as the population spread farther from Lakewood.
Hatzulas Nefashos now says it operates around the clock with trained EMTs, ambulances and medical equipment. It also provides longer-distance medical transportation in addition to emergency response.
The New Jersey Department of Health lists Hatzulas Nefashos Volunteer Ambulance in Ocean County on its EMT Training Fund eligible agency list. That fact has become particularly relevant as the word “fake” has entered the public discussion in Jackson.
The older rivalry was already ugly before it reached Town Hall.
A letter circulated in 2024, purportedly carrying the names of more than 100 rabbis, warning residents against supporting the newer service. It argued that another organization could undermine Central Jersey Hatzolah and interfere with its ability to provide emergency medical care. News organizations that reported on the letter at the time noted that they could not independently authenticate all of its signatures.
Then the phones started ringing.
Recordings published by local Jewish media captured apparent prank calls to Hatzulas Nefashos dispatchers. Some were juvenile. Others included vulgar language and racial slurs. In one recording, a dispatcher questioned why a call appeared to be coming from a Hatzolah-associated number.
The feud eventually moved from phones to vehicles.
Earlier this year, Shore News Network reported that a Hatzulas Nefashos response vehicle was egged while the organization was dealing with continued harassment.
There has been no evidence presented publicly tying Central Jersey Hatzolah’s leadership to the egging or establishing that its leadership organized the prank calls. The actions of individual callers or vandals should not be attributed to the organization without evidence.
Still, by then, this was clearly no ordinary disagreement between two ambulance squads.
It has become a scene out of the hit movie Gangs of New York, but this time, “Gangs of Lakewood”.
Lakewood picked which volunteer groups would get free gas
Money — or at least taxpayer-funded gasoline — added another layer.
Lakewood approved a 2026 program allowing several volunteer organizations to obtain municipal gasoline for official operations. Central Jersey Hatzolah was included, along with Chaveirim, Lakewood Civilian Safety Watch/Shomrim and Lakewood Search & Rescue.
Each could receive up to $2,400 in fuel per month.
Hatzulas Nefashos didn’t make the list.
Shore News Network reported on the exclusion in January, as questions were already being raised about why one volunteer ambulance organization was receiving municipal support while the other was not.
Lakewood officials said the agreements covered organizations already recognized under the township’s volunteer support structure.
For Hatzulas Nefashos supporters, it became another example of the wall the newer organization says it has encountered since arriving.
That Lakewood fight might have remained a Lakewood problem if Hatzulas Nefashos hadn’t been building much of its identity around Jackson.
It has.
In August, the ambulance chief went straight to the council
By this summer, the criticism was no longer coming through anonymous calls or community letters.
It was being discussed from the dais in Jackson.
In August, Hatzulas Nefashos Chief Isaac Bernack walked to the microphone during a Township Council meeting and addressed Burnstein directly.
He wanted to know why council members were publicly questioning his volunteers.
“Did anyone from our team threaten you?” Bernack asked. “Did anyone of our members or volunteers out there saving lives threaten you?”
Bernack also challenged questions that had been raised about whether his members were properly trained.
“Have you ever reviewed our training, seen our certification, asked us for our protocols or spoken to our medical team or medical leadership?” he asked.
Rather than simply demand an apology, Bernack invited Burnstein to come see the operation.
“Meet our volunteers. Review our training. See our operations and equipment,” he said.
There had also been discussion about a vehicle allegedly using emergency lights improperly. Bernack said it wasn’t theirs.
“Identify the vehicle and driver and let’s deal with facts, not assumptions,” he told the council.
Bernack acknowledged that some Hatzulas Nefashos volunteers come from outside Jackson, but rejected the suggestion that it was essentially an outside organization masquerading as a Jackson service.
“I am a chief of Hatzulas Nefashos and I live in Jackson,” he said. “We have Jackson members.”
He was just as unhappy with another description being used.
“Calling us a copycat ambulance is simply unnecessary,” Bernack said.
For several minutes, he kept going.
He talked about volunteers leaving their families in the middle of the night. He described long-distance transports for patients needing specialized care and told the council his organization had volunteers returning from Boston that night after transporting premature twins.
Then he returned to the point that brought him to the microphone.
“Respect the people that serve your people and do not badmouth anyone that helps other people,” Bernack said.
A ribbon cutting turned into the next political fight
Hatzulas Nefashos went ahead with its grand opening this month.
Shem-Tov, Pollak and Trombetta attended.
All three are running together in Jackson’s November municipal election, with Shem-Tov challenging Kuhn for mayor and Pollak and Trombetta seeking council seats. That made their presence more politically significant than three residents simply showing up for an open house.
At the next council meeting, they were criticized for attending.
Shem-Tov didn’t back away from it.
“We accepted the invitation. We came out to cut the ribbon,” he said. “It was a show of unity. We’re here to support everyone in Jackson no matter who they are.”
Trombetta responded to another implication surrounding the relationship.
“We’re not getting any money from them,” she said.
That is quite a journey for a dispute that began over who should answer an ambulance call.
Hatzulas Nefashos tells Jackson to prove it’s illegal or stop saying it
The Sept. 1 letter from Hatzulas Nefashos was aimed squarely at the language coming from township leadership.
The organization said it had deliberately stayed out of political fights but could no longer ignore repeated descriptions of it as “fake,” “illegitimate” or unlawful.
Hatzulas Nefashos says it is authorized under applicable state requirements and responds to Jackson residents regardless of religion or background.
“If you are going to question our legal standing from a public platform, be prepared to back it up with the actual law from that same platform,” the organization said.
There are legitimate questions Jackson officials can ask.
They can ask how a private volunteer ambulance organization interacts with the township’s emergency dispatch system. They can ask about insurance, certifications, equipment, mutual aid, protocols and what official recognition by Jackson would mean. They can decide whether the township should provide money, fuel or any other municipal benefit.
Those questions can be answered with records.
Calling an organization fake is different, particularly when the state itself lists Hatzulas Nefashos Volunteer Ambulance among Ocean County agencies eligible for the EMT Training Fund.
Hatzulas Nefashos ended its statement by asking township leaders to take the argument out of emergency medicine.
“People’s lives should always come before politics,” the organization said.
After four years, that seems increasingly difficult.
The Lakewood feud followed the population into Jackson. The harassment followed. The argument over recognition followed. Now the candidates and elected officials are fighting about it in public.
And somewhere beneath all of that noise are two groups of volunteer EMTs whose stated purpose is the same one: answer the phone when somebody needs help.