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The gathering place for the youth of the Workers in the Land of Israel, the center of Zionist activity, and the center of political and communal life in our town – such was my parental home between the two world wars.

Father received this house as a dowry, and with it also the center and meeting place of the large, wide-branched family – that is the family of Gershon Eisenberg of Olpen.

Our family was one of the largest in the city. Grandfather left behind 126 children and grandchildren when he died. On Sabbaths and festivals, everyone would gather at Grandfather's. The house was always open to all the residents of the city.

When Grandfather sensed that his days were numbered, and that he was about to leave “the foolish world” and pass to the world of truth, he sent me to call Lipa Finkelstein and Moshe Kolozny. He had business connections with them throughout all the years. Therefore, he wished to ask them for forgiveness. He was concerned lest he ever overcharged them by accident or on purpose, and whether he owed them anything, or whether they remained in debt to him. From that point, all debts and obligations were nullified and canceled.

His life was interlocked with religion and religion with life. It seemed as if life was only created to fulfil the commandments, to observe the Sabbath and festivals. In this manner, it was easier to endure all the difficulties of livelihood and existence, the wounds of the bitter exile. When the Sabbath arrived, all the signs of the weekdays disappeared – the toil and suffering. The dust of the week was removed; the weariness of the six workdays was assuaged.

Life centered around that which is called the Sabbath. On Friday, while it was still the middle of the day – before noon – Grandfather would leave work at 11:00 a.m. and prepare

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himself to greet the Sabbath Queen. He cut his nails, took a clean cloak with a towel, and went to the bathhouse. Once or twice a year, during the hot summer days, he would permit himself to go to the Horyn River to immerse himself in its waters. When Grandfather returned from the bathhouse, the final preparations to greet the Sabbath were already taking place. The holiness of the Sabbath was sensed in the air, slowly expelling the mundane out of the house. A white, clean tablecloth appeared on the table, with a candelabra with the Sabbath candles on top. The women concluded their work in the kitchen. They were clean and sparkling with white kerchiefs on their heads, as they prepared to recite the blessing over the candles. Grandfather finished his cup of tea from the eve of the Sabbath, and began to recite “The Song of Songs that is Solomon's” in a festive, joyous voice. The aromas of the cholent and the chicory rose from the oven, and the pleasant aroma of the warm food enveloped you, as if it was preparing you to greet the Sabbath.

“Good Sabbath,” said grandfather in a festive, high voice, as he returned from the synagogue. He immediately began singing “Sholom Aleichem Malachei Hasharet Malachei Elyon” [Welcome, ministering angels, the angels from on high]. At that moment, it seemed to you as if all the good angels were fluttering about, as they came to celebrate the Sabbath with us – fluttering over the candles atop the table and over the chandelier below the ceiling.

The time for Kiddush and the meal arrived. Everyone was obligated to hear the Kiddush, to taste the wine, and to gather around the table.

The meal was pleasant and festive, accompanied by hymns and melodies in honor of the Sabbath. Of course, a Sabbath guest was not lacking.

After the meal, Grandfather would review the weekly Torah portion twice, with the Targum [Aramaic translation of Onkelos] once^[1]. A spiritual calm fell upon us on the Sabbaths of the long, cold Tevet nights. A snowstorm was taking place outside. The wind was howling through the chimneys of the house and the windows. However, there was warmth and calm in the house, with only the unique voice of Grandfather chanting “And Jacob lived in the Land of Egypt for seventeen years”^[2] being heard.

During the warm summer nights of Tammuz, Grandfather would permit himself to go out to the balcony after the meal to breathe a bit of fresh air. He would review the weekly portion in the morning at sunrise. At that time, it was quiet on the street. Only a third of the residents of the city were Jews, but on the Sabbath it felt that the entire city was Jewish. The voice of Grandfather chanting about Balak the son of Tzipor^[3] burst forth outside through the open window, to the clear quietude, and blended with the voice of the birds. This song was powerful for the Sabbath, for nature, and for the Creator of the World.

The entire Sabbath passed in calm and study. Even a thought of matters of work and livelihood was forbidden. Sadness was also forbidden.

I recall the first Sabbath after the passing of my uncle Chaim-Baruch Olpiner. My uncle died in far-off Berlin during the prime of his life. He left behind three daughters, two of whom had come of age, and four sons, the oldest of whom was in the army. Grandfather did not change his custom one iota, and did not permit anyone to mention even a single word about the tragedy. “It is the Sabbath today,” he said. It was only after Havdalah that he was not able to control himself, and he burst out weeping. The atmosphere of the Sabbath continued in many houses even after Havdalah.

Even during the weekdays, everyone searched for islands of calm and salvation from the day-to-day life through the fulfilment of the commandments and the observance of the festivals. In this manner, it was easier to live and exist.

The most important and pleasant of all the holidays was, of course, Passover. First of all, because it fell in the spring, and the summer would follow, when life was infinitely easier than it was during the winter. Second, because of the great change from chometz [foods with leavened ingredients] that Passover brought into the house.

One would prepare for Passover through virtually the entire year. In the summer, people would prepare cherry preserves and pickled cucumbers for the holiday. In the fall, they would prepare horseradish, beets, and potatoes. In the winter, they would prepare pickled beets and wine. The main preparations took place after Purim.

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The first week was devoted to general laundry. The second week, to whitewashing, which was very difficult work due to the rainy weather that almost always pervaded before the festival. The third week was devoted to the baking of matzos. The final week was devoted to general cleaning and the kashering of the utensils.

This was a month full of work, in which there were many expenses. The special preparations for the festival and the vacation from studies inspired great interest in us children. We helped, like the adults, in all matters, and even received our part: new clothes and shoes, nuts, and various sweets. The preparations for the festival were difficult, but everyone waited impatiently for its arrival. All the days of the festival were dedicated to rest, relaxation, visits to family, and even arranging of matches.

The jokers of the generation would say that all the revolutions in the synagogues against the parnasim [administrators] of the community took place on Passover, since there was no concern for livelihood during that festival and there was time to devote to communal affairs. They would also say that it was much easier after Passover than after Sukkot, for after Sukkot, one had to prepare the house for winter, bring in the double windows, and check if there was enough soil for the foundations. One also had to prepare vegetables and potatoes for the people and the cattle, and warm clothing and shoes for everyone. After Passover, on the other hand, there was no need for any preparation. At home, there were leftovers from the holiday: matzos, fat, wine, eggs. The weather was warm. The cattle were going out to pasture. There was sufficient milk and butter, and a week or two after Passover, there already was sorrel, green onions, and radishes, and the expenses were low. The “summer-love” began after Passover. Indeed, festivities and weddings were forbidden during the Omer period. However, in the words of our friend Bania Katz: “We will give over the Sefira^[4] to the rabbi, Reb Dovidl. Of course, he will count properly. And the spring is the spring.” It did not take long before the preparations for the Shavuot festival began. Our fathers told that, in their time, this was the festival of the lads, for they demonstrated their prowess in arranging all types of decorations from greenery and eggshells. The preparations for Shavuot already began from Lag B'Omer. This was the only holiday in which greenery was brought into the house.

The festival of the giving of the Torah was an easy, pleasant festival. The weather was pleasant. Everything sprung to life, and everything was blossoming and flowering. It was difficult to restrict the festival solely to the confines of the giving of the Torah and the yoke of the commandments. Nature had its influence also upon the Jews of the Diaspora. However, the pleasant summer days passed quickly, and the period of mourning between the 17^th of Tammuz and Tisha B'Av began. Tisha B'Av was a day of mourning for all the Jews of the city. Almost everyone went to the old cemetery to supplicate upon the graves of the righteous ones.

The mood changed after Tisha B'Av. Summer was approaching its end. The weather became colder. The sound of the shofar already cut through the air. Then it was the Sabbath of Rosh Chodesh Elul – the Days of Awe were approaching.

This was a special month in the life of the town. In the latter years, the sting of fear and awe was blunted. However, several decades previously, people would be careful about even the smallest of sins starting from Rosh Chodesh Elul. Everyone was obligated to investigate their deeds and to supplicate at the graves of ancestors, asking that they be righteous intercessors for the new year.

The situation of the Jews in the surrounding villages was especially difficult. We all recall only the jokes about the Yishuvniks [i.e., the residents of small settlements]. However, Father of blessed memory would relate that the Jews of the villages would [have liked to] live in the town during the Ten Days of Repentance so that they would not be among the gentiles during those days. Rather, since they could not leave their homes, they concerned themselves with arranging for a minyan, cantor, Torah reader, and shofar blower for those days.

I still bring to my memory the fear that fell upon everyone during the final week before Rosh Hashanah, when the first Selichos were recited. It was dark, cold, rainy, and muddy outside. However, everyone went before midnight with flashlights

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to the synagogue. On the evening of Rosh Hashanah, the Hassidim of Stolin, Turov, and Olevsk would pass through our city on the way to the Rebbe in Stolin. Moshe of Chorsk [Chorovsk in the text] would be the last to travel. He relied on his postal horses, which would arrive on time to Stolin. On Rosh Hashanah, almost all the time would be spent in the synagogue or in reciting Psalms.

The women felt it a special holy task to prepare the memorial candles for Yom Kippur. In the latter period, the candles were already preprepared, but about fifty years previously, each woman would prepare candles in her own home. Grandmother told me the following: During the Ten Days of Repentance, people would take cotton wicks and go to the cemetery. There, they would go to the graves of family members, and invite them to take part in the preparation of the candles. This was called “Tzien a Kneitl” [moving or tying a knot]. The weeping and screaming that accompanied the special petition composed for that purpose penetrated the heavens. All the wicks were taken home. Wax was heated up, and each wick was placed into the wax, for the souls of all the family members who were invited from the cemetery. A single memorial candle was braided from all those candles. It would burn throughout the entire Yom Kippur.

It is difficult to describe the fear and awe that fell upon all the residents of the city on the eve of Yom Kippur, and on the day that the Sabbath of Sabbaths was sanctified. Everyone gathered in the synagogue. Only babies remained at home. Even the Christians were afraid of wandering about the city on that day. The great awe was assuaged somewhat on account of an incident that took place during the time of the First World War. On Yom Kippur of 1915, the Cossacks entered the town, forced Shlomo Finkelstein to open his shop, and even purchased something from him. When a year passed, and nothing happened to Shlomo, for on the contrary, he amassed greater wealth, the youth began to act a bit lighter on that day.

After the Neila service, everyone would take their memorial candle from the synagogue and go home with it. They would recite Havdalah over it. The leftovers would be saved until the Intermediate Days of Sukkot, and the Hoshanot of Hoshana Rabba would be recited to its light.

There was an incident with Grandfather, who went after Neila to fetch his candle, and found that it was extinguished. He immediately lit it from another candle, and acted as if nothing had happened. However, his face turned pale, and it was obvious that he was somewhat perplexed. He gestured at me to be quiet. The next morning, he traveled to the Rebbe in Stolin, and indeed returned calmer and happier. However, that entire year, until Rosh Chodesh Elul, he was very careful about any action that might pose a risk of danger.

Everyone breathed calmly after Yom Kippur. The “danger” had passed, and preparations for the Sukkot festival began.

A Sukkah was set up in almost every house. The joy on Sukkot was great after the tension of the Days of Awe. The joy was especially great on Simchat Torah. There was great weariness from all the holidays. The autumn days were approaching, with rain and mud. The great expenditures that were needed to arrange the house for winter, including to provide clothing and food, clouded the joy of the festival somewhat.

The gray days began after Sukkot. The rain almost never stopped. Sometimes, we spent the entire day in the house, for we were unwilling to go outside in the rain and mud. This continued until winter when snow covered everything. With it also came the Festival of Lights – Chanukah. This was primarily a holiday for the children, for they did not study in cheder during the nights [of Chanukah]. Things were a bit more joyous next to the Chanukah candles. They ate latkes and played with the dreidel, while the adults played cards. However, this was an isolated island of joy in the long, tiring sea of winter, until Adar came. Purim was approaching. Light winds began to blow. The snow lost its hard form, and became soft and black. The ice began to break up. The song of birds could already be heard on the street. Spring was approaching, bringing with it a bit more freedom for living and growing things. Purim was the holiday upon which an ordinary Jew would legally permit himself to drink “until he does not know the difference”.^[5] The masks and Purim plays also gave expression to the joy of the holiday.

The giving of food gifts [mishloach manos] was customary on Purim. I recall that three people worked with us to accept the communal mishloach manos. This was a responsible job that had to be carried out with great tact: to know what to do to send to every person in accordance with their honor and appropriate to their degree of closeness to the family.

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The breaking up of the ice of the Horyn River near the bridge in the spring

The Revolution of 1905 caused a great upheaval in the life of the town. The youth, who played a very active role in the revolution, where forced to emigrate after the revolution failed. The emigres included many of Grandfather's grandchildren. Grandfather's house, which had always been a constant fortress for the family members, was emptied somewhat. Our house again filled with people during the time of the First World War. That time, it also included many of the residents of the city, including some of my friends, and the friends of my brothers and sisters. Our house remained open to everyone until Father made aliya to the Land.

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Father always had an inclination toward communal work. During the time that he lived outside the city, when he would come home for only two or three months, he would only get involved with cultural and rabbinical questions. However, when he settled in the city, he began to take interest in everything that took place in the city. Then, he was also elected as a representative to the city council. He took interest in issues of the community and rabbinate. He was an enthusiastic Hassid of the Rabbi of Slonim, may the memory of the righteous be blessed.

Four generations of David-Horodok [women] From left to right: 1. Tzipa Baruchin – the mother; 2. Sara Olpiner – the daughter; 3. Shoshana Ladezky – the granddaughter; 4. Beila Ladezky – the great-granddaughter

There were no dance parties at that time. There were evenings spent in reading and debates for many hours, each person according to their area of interest. Shostakovsky would read from the works of Pushkin, Lermontov, or Tolstoy. Nechemia Filbin was a great expert in reading and declamation. He surprised us once by reciting by heart Bialik's “The Diligent Student” and “In the City of Killing”. He was also an expert in reading the works of the Hebrew and Yiddish writers, which began to reach us at that time: the writings of Mendele, and the exchange of letters between Menachem-Mendel and his wife Sheina-Sheindel^[7]. “A Night in the Old Market” by Y. L. Peretz, as well as his writings on Hassidism, made a great impression upon us. Sh. Reznik organized communal singing. He was a singer with the cantor of the synagogue, and was talented in music. Zeev Lutzky was a great expert in Bible [Tanach] and he would bring a verse for a proof of anything. He even proposed that we should only speak Hebrew amongst ourselves. However, not everyone agreed to this, especially the students of the Russian school. At times, adults also participated in the readings, especially of the writings of Sholem Aleicheim.

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g. The First World War

The order of the world was overturned when the war broke out. Many of the residents of the city were without work or livelihood. A great deal of time remained for politics. Our house became one of the centers for discussions and debates about world politics. It seems that the magnitude of the tragedy that was coming upon the world was not yet felt during the first year of the war, or even a bit later. However, out of great hatred for the Czar, people were happy about the defeat of the Russians on the front. Even Grandfather was satisfied with the results of the war. He brought signs and portents from the holy Zohar that this was the war of Gog and Magog, and the coming of the Messiah would follow.

The old post office in David-Horodok

This Eizel Schuster was a shoemaker by profession. However, not many people of the town, including his neighbors, ever saw him working. Nobody knew how that Jew earned his livelihood. We always saw him on the street with a stick in his hand, a circle of people around him, as he was the chief spokesman. He did not know how to read and write, other than a bit of Yiddish, and the prayers. Nevertheless, he knew everything that was happening in the wide world. Every day, he showed on a Russian map every detail of the situation at the front.

He hated the Czar without bounds. There was no end to his joy at every Russian setback. When the Russians captured Lvov all of his acquaintances gave him a nickname from a verse of the Kabbalat Shabbat [Welcoming the Sabbath] service, Am Toei “Levov” Hem – which means that the Russian nation got lost and entered Lvov^[8]. Hem sounds like Heim, which means “house” in Yiddish – he felt that they would remain there as if at home. However, Vehem Lo Yadu Drachai [And they do not know My ways] – when they wanted to go home, they did not know which way to go, so they ran along a path that led to nowhere. Indeed, that is how it was. There was no end to Eizel's joy when the well-known German General Mackensen began his attack on Galicia, and the Russians fled for their lives.

Eizel knew a great deal about what had happened in the city many years earlier. Among other things, he owned a ledger that was 200 years old. Despite his great friendship with us, we did not succeed in obtaining the ledger from him.

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Only in the latter period did my brother Meir succeed in peering into this ledger, related to his articles about the history of the city in the Pinsker Shtime [the newspaper Voice of Pinsk].

Eizel related a great deal about the history of the city. Many very interesting things have been forgotten from my memory. He was graced with great talent to talk about everything with great speed. It was as if the incident was standing before your eyes. Among other things, he described the strong impression that the residents of the city had when they brought the first gramophone to Nissan Gurevitz. Everyone went on Saturday night to see and hear the great wonder. An extended debate broke out at that time regarding the source of the voice – whether it emanated from the record, the needle, or the speaker. The gentile neighbors were astounded at this new machine, and they fled for their lives.

The first sewing machine made a similar impression upon all the needleworkers in the city. People understood how the top stitch was done from the result, but, regarding how the bottom stitch was made – this they could not understand at all. Eizel came to our house every day when the newspaper arrived. When the revolution broke out and the city was divided into two, Zionists and Poalei Zion [Workers of Zion], Eizel was also forced to choose his path. Ideologically, he did not affiliate with Poalei Zion. He was a sort of anarchist. He went out to the street with the masses of people, and conducted publicity about everything and against everything.

After the outbreak of the revolution, our house became a center for communal and Zionist activity in the city. Father was chosen as the vice chairman of the “Rabkom”. The government of all Russia was in the hands of the Rabkoms, for the laws of the Czar were annulled and new laws had not yet come in their place. At that time, the civic government was both the legislative and executive authority combined. There was a case of a Christian couple who came to the Rabkom to get divorced. Father signed the bill of divorce since the chairman was not in town at that time. One Christian woman who saw this went out screaming and weeping, “Woe to the eyes who have seen this, that Moshe Yehuda has authorized a bill of divorce for proper Pravoslavs!”

Father was also chosen to the city council through the General Zionists. In this way, he was the regular spokesman of the Jewish community of our city until close to the time that he made aliya. Whether during the times of the Bolsheviks, the Germans, or the Poles, they always turned to him as the elected authority of the city. He passed through all the stormy days in this city in peace only thanks to his honesty and his dedication to the public. (He was only imprisoned on one occasion by the Hetman's people.)

His main communal activity was during the time of the Polish occupation of the city. During those days, the issue of passports cut through the space of our world. Many Jews fled Russia and crossed the Polish border. It was impossible to move without an identity certificate, because David-Horodok did not have a ledger of registration of residents, for the Bolsheviks had taken the books of property ownership and registry with them during their retreat. It was possible to receive a provisional identity card based on the signature of two citizens of the city. This granted them the right to remain in Poland. Father's signature was regular and obligatory.

Many of those who requested passports had very weak connections to David-Horodok. Nevertheless, Father did not hesitate to help them obtain the certificate. On more than one occasion, the regional authorities asked how it was possible for a Pole born in Mozyr to receive a passport from David-Horodok. Go tell them that, according to Sholem Aleichem, a Jew could have been born in Kiev, registered in Mozyr, and receive a passport in David-Horodok. Nevertheless, the authorities trusted Father's signature.

Father did all this without expectation of remuneration, despite all the danger associated with this. The sole reward was that – the Keren Kayemet [Jewish National Fund] box in his house was always fuller than the other boxes in the city. Aside from his interest in Zionist work, Father took an interest in the question of education, even though his children were no longer of school age. He was among the supporters of Rabbi Shapira of blessed memory, and was one of those who was involved in bringing him to David-Horodok. With all this, he was able to maintain good relations with Rabbi Moshele Ginzburg, may the memory of the righteous be blessed. Despite being a fervent Misnaged [non-Hassid], he also maintained strong friendly relations with the Rebbe of Stolin, Rabbi Moshele Perlow, may G-d avenge his blood.

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Whenever he was in Stolin, he would visit him for a friendly conversation. He would also go to the Rebbe of Stolin on his visits to David-Horodok and the Rebbe always greeted him with great joy.

There was no communal activity in the city in which Father did not play an active role.

It was only for the communal council during the time of Polish rule that he did not agree to register his candidacy, due to the smell of reactionism and coziness with the authorities that emanated from that institution. Communal activity took a great deal of Father's time. This had a negative effect on his business activities, which were not always successful.

After the Treaty of Riga between Russia and Poland, when the military situation in the city eased somewhat, the youth began once again to take interest in Zionist activity. Then, an arrest took place in our house. This was in 1921. The border between us and Russia was closed and well sealed. Nevertheless, several people of David-Horodok who remained in Russia succeeded in coming home. Avraham Durchin may G-d avenge his blood, who studied at the university in Kiev, was among the returnees. He was one of the primary members of the Zionist movement, and was already a member of Tzeirei Zion [Youth of Zion] in 1917. We youths ran to hear from him what was taking place in Russia, particularly with respect to the Zionist movement. During those days, the internal battle among the Jewish youth was difficult: Zionism or Communism? – that was the question. During the first years of the revolution, the Jewish youth were enchanted by the opportunity to take revenge on the various pogrom perpetrators and anti-Semites, with the help of the Communists. The revolution also opened up a broad field of activity for workers' rights and Socialism. Nevertheless, the issue was fraught with certain, absolute assimilation within the large ocean of the peoples of Russia.

On the other hand, it was the time of the Balfour Declaration, and the first commissioner in the Land of Israel was a Jew. It was possible to maintain the connection with the wide, open world, and there was the possibility of aliya, of actualizing the Zionist dream. Several of the youth of our city became attracted to Communism and left for Russia. Some are there to this day, and others became sorely disappointed and returned. The majority, however, remained faithful to Zionism. It is therefore no wonder that when A. Durchin came home, we were anxious to hear what he had to say. Everyone gathered in our house, and Durchin told us about the life of the Jews in Russia, about the possibilities of Zionist activity, and about Communism. The hour was already late. Many of our friends had already left. Father had gone to sleep. We remained sitting there, my two brothers Meir and Aharon, Dov Shafer, A. Moravchik, and me. Soroka of Turov (his sister was a teacher in the Tarbut School, and he remained in David-Horodok) also remained with us. In the meantime, two Poles entered and requested beer. I fulfilled their request, and we continued our conversation. It became clear only later that the Poles were from the secret police, and when they heard that we were talking about Zionism and Communism, they called the police and we were all arrested. This was on a Sabbath eve.

The next day, the city was in turmoil. The accusation of Communism in a city situated on the border between Russia and Poland at that time was no simple matter. Furthermore, Avraham Durchin, who had just come from Russia, and Soroka of Turov were among those arrested. The deeds of the Poles in Pinsk when they killed the 35 were still well remembered^[9]. The fear in the city was great. They began to collect signatures from the residents of the city testifying that we were not Communists. Some of the residents were reluctant to sign. We did not know about all this fear, and aside from Soroka who had a miniature passport^[10], we were happy to be political prisoners. We were taken to Luninets on Sunday morning. The entire city came out to accompany us. Father, Aharon-Yona Shafer, and Dov Moravchik traveled with us. With the assistance of M. Muzikant, the owner of the hotel, who had connections with the police chiefs, we were freed after three days of imprisonment. This imprisonment put an end to the Zionist activity of the youth in our city for several months. However, it renewed with greater force after that. Our house once again became the center of activity until we made aliya to the Land. Even when permission was given to open a meeting place, all the decisions and major activity related to the Workers in the Land of Israel were decided in our house.

The first meeting of the group regarding the founding of Tzeirei Zion in David-Horodok, with the participation

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of Y. L. Zager, P. Novak, Z. Lutzky, and may they live, A. Veiner and Dov Shafer was at our place. Virtually every Zionist activity that took place in our city by Tzeirei Zion, and later by the left-leaning Poalei Zion^[11] was centered in our house. There was a small house in our yard that served as a sausage factory during the war, and later stood empty. The first meeting of Hechalutz [The Pioneer] took place in that house. There, the decision to form a kvutza [Zionist preparation group] in Lisowitz took place. That house also served as a warehouse for work implements that were collected in the city and sent to the Land of Israel. The decision to found the Y. L. Peretz Library was also taken there. Every emissary who came to the party and to Hechalutz came to us. The first permits for aliya from Hechalutz, with the participation of the late Hershel Pinsky, also took place at our house.

Our house was the central meeting place for most of the organized youth. Everyone could come and go at any time without asking.

If there was a need for an urgent action in the party, someone would always be at our house.

The “Asiria” [Group of ten] is a story of its own. This consisted of: my two sisters, the two Rimar sisters, Beila Moravchik, Mania Cohen, Sonia Kolodny, the two Lifshitz sisters (daughters of Shmuel Lifshitz), and Etel Olpiner (all of them, with the exception of my sister-in-law E. Olpiner, are in Israel). These people were non-factional, but they openly supported the Workers in the Land of Israel. They were very active in the “brigade” for the Keren Kayemet LeYisrael [Jewish National Fund] and served as our backbone. For the most part, they gathered in our house with their friends.

It should be noted that all this activity was carried out with the agreement and great support of Father. He supported the Workers in the Land of Israel even though it cost him money and time, and greatly interfered with his livelihood.

I recall the elections for the city council. Father stood at the head of the workers list, and I was at the head of the list of the left-leaning Poalei Zion. Nevertheless, Father won people over to our list and even helped us in the elections. He also always voted with us in the city council on issues in which we had a direct interest.

Thus was my parental home, until we made aliya to the Land, and Father merited to rejoice in the establishment of the State of Israel, even though the joy was not complete since Father did not succeed in bringing our entire family to the Land. Three of his sons as well as grandchildren perished at the hands of the murderers, may G-d avenge their blood.

Translator's footnotes

1. It is customary to review the text of the weekly Torah twice, with the Aramaic commentary once, each week. This is called Shnayim Mikra Veechad Targum [Twice the Biblical text, and once the translation]. Return
2. Genesis 47:28 – the opening verse of the Torah portion of Vayechi, generally read about two weeks after Chanukah. Return
3. The Torah portion of Balak begins with Numbers 22:2. It is generally read in the early part of the summer. Note, the name Tzipor means ’bird' (which explains the play on words in the rest of the sentence). Return
4. The word means ‘the counting’ referring to the period of the counting of the 49 days of the Omer between Passover and Shavuot. Traditionally certain festivities are forbidden during all or part of that period. Return
5. One who does not know the difference [between cursed is Haman and blessed is Mordechai]. Return
6. Deuteronomy 28:66 Return
7. By Sholem Aleichem. Return
8. Psalms 95:10. The portion of the verse is “And they are a nation that err in the heart”. Levov means “heart” and sounds like Lvov. Return
9. Referring to the Pinsk Massacre of April 5, 1919. Return
10. An internationally recognized refugee travel document that was issued to stateless people. The document was known as a “Nansen passport” after the Norwegian explorer and statesman Fridtjof Nansen. Return
11. Poalei Zion at one point split into a right-leaning faction and a left-leaning faction. Return

I checked and found that there was no town dearer from the perspective of Zionism than David-Horodok. The Hebrew language was fluent in the mouths of everyone there, and at times, you could hear its echoes on the streets among the youths. The greeting with which passers-by greeted each other was “Shalom” (a seemingly insignificant point, but testifies to the spirit that pervaded). The Tarbut School that existed there could serve as an exemplary Hebrew school from all perspectives. It had more than four hundred students. From the words and relationship of the students to Zionist activity, one can determine that the school was not only a house of learning for them, but rather an environment and atmosphere of Israeli life.

There were youth organizations and organizations for older people of all types there. A kibbutz of Hanoar Hatzioni^[1] also existed. It was maintained by and benefited from the moral and material support of the Jews of the town. Individuals as well as entire families made aliya from there. Those Jews became fed up with a half-Diaspora and half-Hebrew life, so they chose to make aliya and prepare for a full Hebrew life in the Land of Israel.

[Page 90]

Synagogue of the Hassidim of Stolin: “Stoliner Shtibel”

The large Beis Midrash		The Great Synagogue

[Page 91]

The Nagid Beis Midrash

The Rabbi's Beis Midrash

Translator's footnote

1. In this context, a kibbutz refers to a farm or an institution for preparation for aliya (also known as a Hachshara kibbutz). Return

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