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[Page 16]

The Shtetl

 

A Chapter of History

Translated by Martin Jacobs

Edited by Gloria Berkenstat Freund

Goworowo, an entirely Jewish shtetl in Congress Poland[1], with a population of close to 500 families, lay on the Warsaw-Łomża Railroad Line, between the towns of Ostrow-Mazowiecki and Ostrołęka. Goworowo belonged to the district (powiat) of Ostrołęka, and for many years to the province of Białystok, and just a few years before the last World War the Polish Ministry of the Interior annexed the shtetl to Warsaw.

No official materials are available to us which would enable us to investigate how long the shtetl existed and since when Jews have lived there. The only historical source is a Polish geographic publication from 1881, Slownik Geograficzny Krolewstwa Polskiego I Innych Krajow Slowianskich*, which states that Goworowo was already in existence in the 16th century. It says, among other things:

“Goworowo, a village on the Hirsh River (Polish name: Orz), Ostrołęka District, Municipality (gmina) and Parish of Goworowo, a distance of 20 verst[2] from Ostrołęka. Possesses a wooden church with a masonry chapel, which probably dates from the 16th century. It was renovated by the Bishop of Plock, Andrzej Stanislaw Zalewski, in 1729. The journal “Inżynierja i Budownictwo”, April 15, 1881, provides information about a plan of development. Here were an elementary school, a municipal office, and a brewery. In 1827 there were 40 houses and 196 residents in Goworowo; there now are 101 houses and 1485 residents. The Parish of Goworowo, which previously belonged to Malawa and now to Ostrołęka, has 8100 residents. The Municipality of Goworowo has 4747 residents. The local court of the third district is in Czerwin, a distance of 12 ½ verst[3]. The following localities belonged to the Municipality of Goworowo: Goworowo settlement, and the villages of Brizhner-Vulke (Brzeziñska Wólka),

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Guri (Góry), Grodzhisk (Grodzisk), Yemyeliste (Jemieliste), Yuzefova (Józefowo), Kotshko (Kaczka), Kobilin (Kobylin), Groys-Ponikve (Ponikiew-duża), Kleyn-Ponikve (Ponikiew-mała), Pakshevnitse (Pokrzywnica), Rembis (Rębisze or Rembisze), and also Govoruvek (Goworówek), Lipyanki (Lipianka), and Zabin (Żabin)[4].”

As can be seen, the Goworowo population figures in several periods are overall counts. No mention at all is made of Jews, although our parents and grandparents were already living in the shtetl in the last period, and there already was a lively Jewish life in the town.

According to oral tradition, Jews were among the co-founders of the shtetl. Older Jews could tell of a visit to the town of the Vilna Rabbi Abraham Danzig (1748-1820, author of “Haye Adam” and “Hokhmat Adam”, as well as of “Tephila zaka”). It has also been determined that the famous rabbi of Posen (Poznan), Rabbi Akiva Eger (1761-1837), visited Goworowo on his way to Łomża at the end of the 18th century.

At the time of the Polish uprising of 1794 a Jewish rebel, Shmuel Tot, was well known in Goworowo. Old Jews reported that he became an informer, out of a great sense of Polish patriotism, and brought much trouble to the Jewish population. He had a sad end: the Russian government found him out and buried him alive.

We must assume that a large part of the Jewish population at that time lived in Wulki (Wólka), a little village on the other side of the River Hirsh from Goworowo. This fact is confirmed on its title page by an old manuscript of “Sepher Musar Haskel”; the book was published in Warsaw in 1857. Among other things, “Wulki-Govorovo” is explicitly written there. The fact that the cemetery was located not far from Wulki is evidence that there were many Jews.

At the time of the second Polish uprising, in 1863, the Jews of Goworowo contributed much to its success and fought side by side with the

 

gow017.jpg
Goworowo area – drawn according to memory

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Polish patriots against the czarist satraps. It is said that after the suppression of the uprising the Jews hid the Polish rebels in their houses, dressed them in Hasidic garb, with talis and tefilin, and so rescued them from the Russian soldiers, who were searching for them throughout the area.

We found information about the size of the Jewish population in Goworowo at the end of the 19th century in the Yevreyskaya Entsiklopedya, vol. 12. It is stated there that the total number of inhabitants of the shtetl was 2139, of whom 1844 were Jews. These figures were confirmed by the German language encyclopedia published by “Eshkol”, vol. 7, which adds that in 1921 the total population reached 5299 residents but with only 1228 Jews.

* * *

In the first World War the shtetl suffered greatly from the retreating Russian army. Goworowo was the first town to be accused of espionage by the Russians, because of the so-called “eyruvim-telegraph”[5]. Because of this slander the last rabbi of Goworowo, Rabbi Burshtin, was arrested, along with several respected citizens of the shtetl. When others strongly intervened they were freed pending court appearance. The rabbi used this freedom to go to Rabbi Rubinstein in Vilna, whose efforts led to the annulment by special royal decree from St. Petersburg of the senseless slander. Nevertheless, before retreating from the shtetl on Shabos Nakhamu 1915, the Russians burnt the shtetl, and the entire Jewish population scattered to the neighboring towns and shtetlekh and some even fled deep into Russia.

After the occupation by the German army, some of the Jews who had fled Goworowo returned to the shtet and began to rebuild the ruins. The local German administration did not disturb them in this task. At the same time many sources of income opened up for the Jewish residents. With the end of the first World War, in 1918, those Jews of the town who had gone deep into Russia also returned, and a lively Jewish life again developed. It seemed that at last an era of peace and tranquility had arrived, but then new troubles started, from the new “masters”, the Bolsheviks, and from the sadly famous “Hallerczyki” of the Polish Army of Awakening[6]. A flood of hostile decrees and persecutions were unleashed upon the shtetl, which were accompanied by levies, mishaps, beard shavings, incidents of Jews being thrown from trains, and attacks in general.

At that time the Bolsheviks arrested the Christian parish priest Goszczicki, nephew of Cardinal Kokowski of Warsaw. The leaders of the Poles turned to Rabbi Burshtin to intervene with the Jewish Bolshevik commissar on the priest's behalf. The intervention helped and the priest was freed. As an expression of thanks

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the priest sent the Rabbi a cordial letter with an solemn promise never to forget this deed. A short time later the priest was again arrested and the Poles turned once more to the rabbi for his intervention. This time however the rabbi had himself been arrested and sent with the prisoner convoy to Rozan fortress. The accusation carried with it the death penalty. As the rabbi sat in sadness in the detention center, reciting psalms in a loud voice, a Jewish officer came and said to him: Rabbi, we are quite a large group of Jewish soldiers and we will lie down under the horses if they try to take the rabbi from here to be shot. That same evening the door of the detention center opened and a quiet voice whispered from without: Rabbi, door and gate are open, flee! And in this way the rabbi was saved from certain death.

When the Polish forces took power there were pogroms against the Jews throughout the region. In Goworowo too the peasants gathered in the market place and armed themselves with axes and sticks. Then the parish priest appeared before the masses in his holy garments and said to the peasants, “Brothers! No Jew will be beaten in this town.” The crowd dispersed and thus a pogrom against the Jews was averted in Goworowo.

* * *

During Polish rule and up to the outbreak of the last war life in the shtetl was relatively peaceful. There was no noticeable public antisemitism. Only with the latest “Owszem” policy[7] of the Polish government, when it officially called for suppression of Jewish commerce and businesses, was a quiet boycott and picketing of Jewish shops called. The friendly relations between the Jews and their Christian neighbors, long dear to the hearts of both, did much to weaken the boycott plans. Most of the antisemitic agitators came from outside the town. They looked resentfully at the peaceful relations between the Jewish and Christian populations.

Goworowo was considered a business town and had a greater economic base than neighboring shtetlekh of the same size. The middle class, consisting of merchants and craftsmen, provided the surrounding Christian villages with merchandise. These villages were thickly populated and relied greatly on the Goworowo merchants and craftsmen.

Among the Goworowo craftsmen, the cobblers, tailors, and hatters stood out. They exhibited their wares in fairs in the most distant towns and shtetlekh. These craftsmen of the fairs, the so called “tandeyters” (bunglers), produced rough goods, used only by the peasants. But there were also good craftsmen in the shtetl,

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who produced for the Jews of the shtetl and for a great many Christians of the surrounding area and who thought of themselves as more aristocratic than the “tandeyters”.

There was also in the shtetl a class of wealthier Jews who managed businesses and engaged in commerce with a broad scope. To this class belonged the brothers Neta and Iser Ritz, owners of the big steam mill and electric works of the shtetl; the brothers-in-law Isaac Kosowsky and Matisyohu Rosen (for many years also the latter's son-in-law David Segal), who used to deal in wood on a large scale and also held the lease on the saw mill from Glinka, the Christian owner of the estate. They cut the timber there and exported most of it. Later they were also in the business of the construction of wooden houses and they also dealt in building materials. Meir Wolf Tehillim was the owner of cement construction material businesses at the Pasheki (Pasieki) railroad station and of coal warehouses. To the wealthy class also belonged the merchants of manufactured and agricultural products, as well as the grain and meat dealers.

However, most of the residents were retailers, brokers, shipping agents, and craftsmen, who eked out their livelihood with difficulty. The support which relatives and fellow-townspeople sent from America contributed much to this class.

The banks contributed greatly to the economic development of the shtetl. The Merchants' Bank, “Bank Kredytowy”, the “Artisans and Retailers Bank” and the Free Loan Society were active there.

The economic situation was relatively good and this was reflected in the spiritual and cultural development of the shtetl. In this field too Goworowo was an example for all other shetlekh in the area. In outward appearance alone the residents of Goworowo had already made an impression with their feeling for aesthetic purity and their pleasing sense of dress, their homes with uncrowded, beautiful furnishings, and their pretensions to elegance.

Many of the townspeople were well known for their philanthropy and hospitality. For many years the shtetl supported, at its own expense, a yeshiva with many students from the surrounding communities.

Goworowe selected as rabbis great scholars who could have had rabbinical chairs in the greatest cities in the country. Our generation well remembers the last three rabbis: the Gaon Rabbi Aaron Klepfish, author of “Bet Aharon”, a brother of the last Senior President of the Warsaw rabbinical court Rabbi Samuel Zeinwel Klepfish; the Gaon Rabbi Jacob Judah Cahana-Batshan, author of “VeShab HaKohen”, a distinguished scholar, day and night engaged in Torah study and prayer; and the last rabbi, the Gaon and Martyr Rabbi Alter Moshe Mordechai Burshtin, who was one of the leading Torah scholars of the last generation. His astuteness and sagacity were renowned. He commanded respect and was a successful leader of his congregation. The Rabbi was martyred in the Treblinka death camp in the month of Ab 5703[8].

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All communal and charitable institutions were active in Goworowo, as in all Jewish towns in Poland: a community administration with a president of many years, the Martyr Moshe Tennenbaum, and after him the Martyr Neta Ritz, and then the last one, the Martyr Moses Kosher; the burial society, having as its trustees Matisyohu Rosen, Isaia Eisenberg and Meir Romaner; a network of religious elementary schools, some under communal supervision; a “Yavne” school for the children of parents with Zionist inclinations, a religious “Beys Yakov” school, a “Tsish”o” for Bundists and Yiddishists, and a state elementary school where Jewish and Christian children studied together, which had two Jewish women teachers.

Preeminent among the charitable institutions were Linas Hatsedeq, which distributed medical aid to the ill; “Hakhneses Orhim”, for poor people traveling through the town; a Free Loan Society, “Hakhneses Kala”[9] and “Biqur-Holim”[10]. For several years starting immediately after the First World War the American “Joint” conducted its rescue work in the shtetl.

After the burning of the town in the First World War a temporary wooden prayer house (beys-medresh) was constructed; it could hardly hold the town's worshipers. After several years a splendid masonry synagogue, higher than all the houses in the shtetl, was built, on the initiative of the last rabbi, Rabbi Burshtin, with the active assistance of a Goworowo townsman (landsman) in America, Mr. Klass, and his wife Sore-Gitl.

In addition to the town's beys medrash there were other prayer houses and Hasidic shtiblekh, like the Alexander shtibl, the Gerer shtibl, Vurker-Atvatsker shtibl, the Mizrahi-minyen, the so-called “Smooth” minyen (where young men without beards prayed), etc. In almost every beys-medrash there were special study groups, such as the Talmud group, the Mishna group, the Psalms study group, the Torah study group, and others.

Organizations affiliated with all political parties in the country without exception were active in the shtetl. With their intensive activity, the organizations made an enormous impression on the party headquarters in Warsaw and therefore the latter had a very respectful relationship with them. Here were: the General Zionist Organization HaTehiya with its library; Po'ale-Tsion (right wing), Frayhayt, their dramatic circle and the Brenner library; Revisionists, Betar and their library; Mizrahi, HeHaluts-HaMizrahi, HaShomer-HaDati; Po'ale-Tsion (left wing); HaShomer HaTsa'ir; HeHaluts, and Ha'Oved. These parties together carried on the work of the communal benevolent fund (Qeren-Qayemes) and the Palestine foundation fund (Qeren-HaYesod) in the shtetl. In addition there were Agudas-Yisroel, Tse'irey Agudas-Yisroel, Bnos-Agudas-Yisroel and their Beys-Ya'akov school. The Bund organization had one of its biggest divisions in Goworowo, along with its youth organizations Tsukunft and Ski”f and the Perets library. There was also an illegal Communist party. All the above mentioned parties conducted lively cultural and social activities. At least once a week each organization arranged a lecture, a discussion evening[11], an athletic competition, entertainment, or a performance

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by its drama circle. From time to time the drama circles used to perform in the surrounding areas. The party headquarters used to send Goworowo the best speakers, well known personalities and instructors with many years of service in the party. The political and non-political press sold well, including “HaSfira”, “Haynt”, “Moment”, “Togblat”, “Folkstsaytung”, and all the other newspapers.

Despite the above mentioned parties, some of which openly claimed to be “free thinking”, the shtetl was in general deeply religious, and the beys-medrash was always filled with people praying and studying. In the evening hours the toiling masses sat down around the long wooden tables and listened to Rabbi Betsalel-Yusl teaching Psalms with Alshikh's commentary, with his sweetly haunting melody. Even ordinary people who understood no Torah shyly listened to the sounds of the Torah's holy words.

At the right side of the beys-medrash, at the windows which looked out on the river Hirsh, the “beautiful people” sat and studied the daily Gemara page together.

Around the two great tile ovens the “Holkhey-Nemishes” always gathered. Between a “qadish” and a “borkhu” they discussed the latest political news of the world. The coming of a preacher speaking of consolation and punishment drew much attention in the shtetl. People listened to him with baited breath.

Goworowo also had a reputation as a comfortable and peaceful town, where good relations among people reigned. This was especially evident at celebrations. If a Jew of the town made a wedding for his child, everyone felt like a relative; every woman considered it a necessity to come to the house of the celebrant. Some were occupied in baking and roasting, some helped dress the bride, and some simply gave their opinion. Marriages for the most part took place in the synagogue courtyard, and leading the bride and groom to and from the khupe used to turn into a real triumphal march through the town, with music, torches, fireworks, and dancing.

On Sabbaths and holidays, especially Sukos and Simhas-Tora, the town threw off all cares and joy was felt in every corner. The large yearly banquet of the Khevre-Kadishe was conducted with solemnity. It took place on the eve of the month of Shvat after a day of fasting and penitential prayers. At the banquet the community record book, in which were inscribed the important events of the year, was opened,. There too were noted the names of townspeople who had done good or ill, so that this day in the khevre-kadishe was a day of judgment for sinners, especially those who sinned against their fellow man.

The same reciprocity could be seen at sad events. If anyone in the town became ill countless people came to visit him and at night they divided into groups

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to watch over the patient. When there was (Heaven protect us) a funeral, everyone closed his business and considered it his duty to accompany the deceased at least across the bridge which led to the cemetery.

The cemetery was over a kilometer from the town. It was well tended, with trees and greenery, and surrounded by a masonry wall. Many of the grave stones were unreadable; due to their age the name and date of death of the deceased could not be determined.

* * *

Goworowo was a beautiful, peaceful, cordial town, full of life and Jewish charm. Strong invisible threads of love and respect tied the Jews of Goworowo to the town of their birth. Even those whom fate has driven abroad, across seas and wildernesses, have not cut the threads and have not been able to erase from their memories the place where their cradles stood, where they took the first steps in their lives.

The Goworowo associations and active landsmanshaft committees are spread across the world, from Canada and America to Israel They see as their sacred goal maintaining a mutual fraternal contact and honoring with love and reverence the memory of their destroyed birth place, Goworowo.

 

gow023.jpg
The location of the cemetery. Plowed under after the war.

 

* In publishing house of Filip Sulimerski and Władisław Waleski. Printed. Wieku [Century] Nowy Świat 59 Return

A Chapter of History - Translator's notes

  1. In the late 18th century Poland was partitioned among Prussia, Austria, and Russia, and ceased to exist as an independent country. “In 1815 the Congress of Vienna . . . reassembled Europe after nearly a quarter century of warfare but did not see fit to restore Poland . . . . . The only change of importance was the curious creation of the Congress Kingdom of Poland. . . . this fragment of historic Poland was given a separate administration under Russian rule and allowed a considerable measure of autonomy. . . . The ruler of the Congress Kingdom was the Russian tsar who locally was deemed the king of Poland.”
    From The History of Poland by M. B. Biskupski. Return
  2. 13.3 miles or 21.2 km Return
  3. 8.3 miles or 13.3 km Return
  4. For Polish names see the Słownik Geograficzny and maps of the area on the web site www.pilot.pl. Return
  5. During the First World War, the occupying Russians thought the “erub” was a secret telephone line for communicating with the enemy. See the English introduction to this book, pp. x-xi. (Although the matter is a bit more complicated than this, you can get some idea what an erub or eruv is from this definition in Weinreich's dictionary: “wire strung on the circumference of a town to classify it as enclosed private property in which objects may be carried on the Sabbath according to Jewish law”.) Return
  6. The Hallerczyki were the followers of Józef Haller, the first head of the Polish army after independence at the end of World War I. Return
  7. “The infamous owszem or economic boycott politics began in June 1936, after being suggested in the inaugural speech of the new Prime Minister of Poland, General F. Slawoy-Skladkowski. This policy encouraged Polish customers to boycott Jewish businessmen, shops, handicraftsmen, and factories. Actively implemented by the nationalist extremists, the policy consisted of more than propaganda. It involved picketing Jewish stores and threatening Poles who dared enter, smashing store windows, overturning stalls and pushcarts, destroying merchandise, and knifing and beating Jewish owners. ” See http://davidhorodok.tripod.com/4a.html.
    “As the Polish economy deteriorated during the Great Depression and the rise of Hitler and the collapse of the League of Nations in the 1930s underscored the fragility of Polish security, Polish society became increasingly concerned about unity and safety. Thus the Jewish situation deteriorated , especially after Piłsudski's death in 1935. Although Poland never passed anti-Semitic legislation, discrimination against Jews was widespread in administrative practice, including restriction to institutions of higher learning. Public outbursts of anti-Semitism, including economic boycotts and occasional street violence, were quite frequent in the late 1930s. It was a sad last chapter in the ancient tradition of Polish-Jewish cohabitation in the lands of the old Commonwealth.”
    From The History of Poland by M. B. Biskupski. Return
  8. 1943 Return
  9. Philanthropic provision for the marriage of poor and orphaned girls. Return
  10. Society for visiting the sick. Return
  11. kestl-ovnt. I am indebted to Shane Baker for the meaning of this word. To paraphrase his remarks (Forverts Sho, 15 February 2003): several questions of current interest are written down and then selected for discussion by those present. Return
The transcribing of Hebrew words into English is full of pitfalls. Transcriptions that are readable are not accurate; those that are accurate are hardly readable. I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies in my own system.

Proper names pose a difficulty for the translator, since we cannot in general know from the Yiddish how the individual in question would have written his/her name in Latin letters. Again I beg the indulgence of the reader for any inconsistencies, as well as discrepancies from Latin letter spellings that are unknown to me but might be known to the reader.


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Goworowo Half A Century Ago

by Abraham Schwartzberg (Argentina)

Translated by Martin Jacobs

Edited by Gloria Berkenstat Freund

As far back as I can remember, the Jewish population of Goworowo was always religious. Every morning and evening the Jews filled the study hall (beys-hamedresh) for the morning prayer and the afternoon and evening prayers. Preachers would often come to the town to speak between afternoon and evening prayer and to give the people ethical instruction (musar). Weaving through their talks were sayings of the Sages (Khazal), suitable proverbs, Hasidic sayings, and topical stories. And so they reinvigorated the worshippers and did much to help sustain the religious spirit.

The residents were split between Hasidim and Misnagdim[1]. The great study hall belonged to the Misnagdim. The Hasidim were further divided into separate shtibelekh[2], each following its rebe[3], such as Alexander Hasidim, Gerer Hasidim, and so forth. These shtibelekh were located in the same building as the great study hall of the Misnagdim and they all lived together in peace and harmony.

As a result of the differing opinions among the townspeople, problems with a new cantor, a ritual slaughterer, or a rabbi were difficult to solve. The Misnagdim wanted the religious officials to be from their group and the Hasidim from theirs. Meetings were held, assemblies were called, they discussed, they argued, they got angry, until finally, after long discussion and deliberation, an agreement was reached and again there was peace among Jews.

Children's education was in the kheyder[4]. When they were just four or five the children were sent to a dardekey melamed (teacher of the youngest children). Gradually they were led into the study of Talmud, together with Tosfos and other commentators. Most of the students, on finishing kheyder, went on to learn a trade. The brighter boys, I too among them, left in order to continue studying in the yeshives of Ostrowa, Lomza, and elsewhere.

Teaching the children writing was the task of the rebe[5]. In the larger kheyders one hour a day was set aside for this purpose. There was also a Russian school (up to 1917 Poland belonged to Russia[6]) for the Christian residents of the town and the surrounding area. The Jewish children were required to attend the school one hour a day, from 4 to 5 PM. There they were taught to read and write Russian. There was also a private Jewish teacher in the town who gave lessons in Yiddish, Polish, German, Hebrew, and arithmetic. The only existing organization was the Khevre Kadishe[7], which was concerned

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with cemetery problems. Once a year they held a religious dinner (seudes mitsve), which was only for members of the organization, where they dealt with matters concerning their activities.

There were no movements of a political nature in Goworowo, such as Zionism, Socialism, etc., and so there was no party activity to record. There were however individuals, workers, who were well versed in Marxist social theories, in other words, the eternal struggle between labor and capital. Their claim was that only social revolution could bring about the liberation of mankind. Being without followers, however, they kept apart from the community. The few maskilim[8] of that time also kept themselves apart. Evidently they were waiting for better times.

There was no library in the town. The entire reading material for young people consisted of books of stories about kings, princes, and other strange and fantastic tales, which were at that time in abundance. The youths used to get together in smaller groups on the long winter evenings at the home of a friend to read “literature”, that of Shomer, Motke Khabad, Hershele Ostropoler, Simkhe Plakhte, and others.

Though since the end of the last century political Zionism as well as socialist movements had already begun to crystallize in the Jewish world, they had not yet penetrated to Goworowo. Only in about 1910 did the Haskala movement in the town begin to come out into the open and spread more and more among the youth. New winds began blowing, bearing a message for other times. A new era was beginning for the young. Among the older lads, those over 20, there was a small number of conscious autodidacts, keeping to themselves, not trying to spread their mode of thinking; they were waiting for the right time. “What reason cannot accomplish time will,”[9] they would assert, and that is just what happened. With the great fervor of youth they threw themselves into the Haskala movement, together with Zionist consciousness, which became their ideal for the future.

In many homes books by Mendele Moykher-Sforim, Isaac Leybush Perets, Abraham Reyzin, and others now appeared. Zionist literature was also already beginning to spread. Many were beginning to study Hebrew. A general revival was noticeable. A joy shone from the faces of the youth, an awakening to a new world, unknown to them.

I remember how, in spring time and in summer twilight, groups of boys and girls would go out for a walk on the road that led from behind the church (probostwo). They sang Yiddish songs by Perets, Reyzin, and also Moyshe Leyb Lilenblum, who was popular among the young at that time.

The older, more progressive youth had to put up with serious fights from

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their parents; these fights were often quite dramatic. The author of these lines used to witness, when he was a pupil of Yosl the melamed[10], how he would go after his son because of his Haskala ideas, and he gave his son some difficult moments. At the time, as a boy of 10, I already felt resentment towards my teacher for the emotional pain he so appallingly caused his only son.

At that time Benjamin Ginzburg, a son of Moses Joshua Ginzburg, appeared in Goworowo; he was a very knowledgeable and educated young man in his twenties. Benjamin came from Bialystok, where he was devoted heart and soul to the Haskala movement of that era. He was also active in the hoveve-tsion grouping, whose founder was Moyshe Leyb Lilenblum. Benjamin spread these ideas among the Goworowo youth, and he immediately won over the 13 to 14 year old Talmud students. He lavished attention on them and led them into a new world which was absolutely foreign to them. Ginzburg created concepts for them, concepts about the world and mankind, and at the same time they began to read Hebrew periodicals and newspapers of the time, becoming acquainted with Jewish problems as well as world politics.

All this, however was done privately and not within the framework of any organization. The reading, the discussions, the conversations were conducted during the walks in the twilight hours and on various other occasions. But their parents still found out about it and were angry with their children. The Rabbi too threatened the youth with various sanctions for straying from the true path. “Heretics, God forbid,” he said, “can bring misfortunes upon the town, such as illnesses and epidemics” and he went on and on. But no one took this seriously and in time it became just a habit; the anger gradually passed away.

The author of these lines, despite his participation in Benjamin Ginzburg's Enlightenment work, continued his Talmud studies in the beys-hamedresh. Because of my religious orientation, I was attracted by the Talmud melodies and the keen and subtle argumentation, as well as the interesting controversies among the authorities of the Mishna and the Gemara. The questions and answers of the various commentators especially sharpened my wits; among these were Tosfos and Maharsha. Every sentence contained wisdom and acumen. Young men, including those on “kest”[11], were found daily in the study halls applying themselves almost all day. There were also those who came only at certain hours of the day to “snatch” a page of Talmud for their spiritual satisfaction. The Talmud melodies could be heard coming from the study hall late into the night. They resounded all around. I was also fascinated by the discussions about Maimonides, Yehuda HaLevi, Baal Shem-Tov, and others, which were all new to me at the time, and so I was introduced to the great figures of past generations.

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The discussions about astronomy, cosmology, and other scientific concepts found in secular books, until then forbidden in Goworowo, were also very interesting.

During the First World War of 1914 the Russian military burnt Goworowo to the ground. After the German occupation the town was again beginning to be rebuilt; that was before it was under Polish administration. A new life began, especially among the youth. The Russian revolution of 1917, on which East European Jewry had placed much hope, especially had a great influence on the young. With all the fervor of youth they plunged into politics. Some even began to believe in the ideals of the Revolution. Most, however, remained loyal to the Zionist ideal and the directions in which it was going. Many, at first deceived by the beautiful revolutionary slogans, grew sober about the supposedly new ideas. The Balfour Declaration appeared and the activity of the Zionist parties was strengthened.

The wave of anti-semitism which penetrated the population with the approval of the new Polish government, and the boycott it carried on against Jewish crafts and trade, led to a great emigration by the young. Thousands of young people in Poland, among them from Goworowo, applied at the English consulate in Warsaw for entry visas for Palestine. Because of the great demand the English consul continually created new difficulties and restrictions, until emigration to Palestine completely stopped. Having no choice, the youth had to shift their emigration plans to the countries of South and Central America, and to wherever it was still possible to go to escape from Poland.

At the time agricultural training centers had already been set up in the villages, to which groups of Zionist youth were sent to work with farmers. For a set period of time they used to work in the fields and become familiar with farming, which they would need when they came to Palestine. The youth went to the agricultural centers with joy and with the idea and belief in a great goal, the ideal of the return to Zion. And this was the merit of David Ginzburg, to sow the seed among the youth of Goworowo which in time began to sprout, to grow, and to send down deep roots.

Translator's notes

  1. Hasidim are the followers of the religious leader known as the Baal Shem-Tov. Misnagdim are their opponents. Both groups, however, are strictly Orthodox. Return
  2. A shtibl (plural: shibelekh) is a small Hasidic prayer house. Return
  3. “Rebe” here means the leader of a Hasidic sect. Return
  4. A Jewish traditional elementary school. Return
  5. Here “rebe” means a teacher in a kheyder. Return
  6. Actually only the eastern third of Poland, in which Goworowo was located. The remainder of Poland was split between Germany and Austria. Return
  7. A volunteer burial society Return
  8. Followers of the Enlightenment movement, or Haskala. Return
  9. A popular saying. Return
  10. A teacher in a kheyder. Return
  11. The reference is to newly married men living with and supported by their in-laws so that they can continue their studies. Return


[Page 28]

Once There Was…

by Meyshe Granat, Israel

Translated by Tina Lunson

Once there was a little Jewish town Goworowo. The town was not distinguished with especially beautiful views of nature. It was on flat land with no hills, no forests nearby. But fields and gardens surrounded the town on every side. In summer it was bathed in green: fields of grain on tall stalks, and aromas from the fruit orchards and the lilac trees literally intoxicated the air. No smoke from factory chimneys choked us or made it difficult to breathe; factory sirens did not split the Eden-like quiet. The only whistle that was allowed to be heard two or three times over twenty-four hours was that of the Warsaw-Lomze train that stopped for a minute to take on and let off passengers. The whistle cut through the calm and cut into the pleasant stillness.

The town possessed two main streets: The “long” street, the “broad” street, and the market square. Besides those, there were a few small lanes that had various names or no name at all but were referred to by the name of a particular householder who lived there.

Goworowo had two suburbs: 1.) Vulke, on the other side of the river, over the two bridges. This was a poor village, which later separated from our Goworowo. The cemetery – which was beyond Vulke – originated long ago, when Goworowo was still a suburb of Vulke. 2.) Probosva, a tidy, lovely suburb after the Catholic church, where the Polish intellectuals lived. Also there: the priestly palace, the Polish cooperative with the inscription“Svay do Svega” on a plaque, the police station, the post office, the town doctor, for a long time the apothecary, and others. The whole environment possessed perfumy gardens and orchards. Some Jewish families also lived there, in houses they inherited from generation to generation since the beginning of time. We always wondered where Jews got the strength to settle themselves among so many gentiles.

The youth in both suburbs liked to stroll the streets in the evenings. Gentile youths concerned themselves with keeping Jews, heaven forbid, from crossing outside their defined area and wandering into the gentile territory. Very rarely did anyone oppose them.

[Page 29]

Therefore, Jews strolled up and down the long street; and since the civilization on wheels was a little delayed in coming to Goworowo they could take up the whole width of the street, from edge to edge. On Shabes day the strolling area was larger – during that day one could walk without fear all over the town.

The river in Goworowo ran through in three seasons of the year. In summer it shrank so that it was pitiful even to look at it. Every day someone remarked that it was “dying” a little. Even children could cross the river in summertime. They just took off their shoes, rolled up their trousers to the knee and without difficulty crossed the so-called “meadow”. In autumn, when the rains began, and in spring when the snow was melting, the river grew wide and often over its banks. The river was at its full beauty then. In winter, when the river was frozen, people skated on it and pursued all sorts of winter sports. In order to haul water, it was necessary to cut a hole in the ice. More than one skater took a fall in such a “psheremblie”. Every winter they cut out blocks of ice and filled Meyshe Tenenboym's underground ice warehouse so that the town would have ice-cream and cool drinks in the summer. When someone had a high fever, another would run to the proprietor of the ice to request a piece of ice as a cure.

Beyond all that the river had another assignment: When a food shop had an empty herring barrel, they would set it in the river, fill it with stones and after a time they took out a clean barrel, for making sauerkraut or to store water. And women sat the length of the river and washed their laundry. The population considered this a completely natural thing to do.

Every Thursday was a market day in town, and once a month there was a fair. The peasants came with wagons loaded with merchandise and filled up the market square, the broad street and other specified places around the town. On those days a “concert” of living voices was performed, from dawn until evening, enough to deafen. The Jewish grain-merchants – who earned their profit for the whole week at the market – ran busy and bustling from one wagon to another, touching and inspecting each sack of grain. They bargained with the peasants, and they slapped one another's palms once they had settled on a price and the transaction was closed. Where was there enough space in that small town to store so much grain? Potatoes, fruits, chickens and other items that the peasants brought in plenty. The shopkeepers also waited for market day: the peasants filled their shops and bought herring, salt, fuel oil, clothing, manufactured

[Page 30]

tools and all other necessary articles. The Jewish shopkeepers, like all the other merchants and dealers, lived the whole week from that day.

The Jews felt good in the town. There was no power that could change their way of life. Families had rooted themselves, bound themselves to one another and did not want to leave the town. If a family became cramped, they just built on another room, or raised another story, in order to stay in the same place.

The Shabes was one of the most beautiful treasures that the town possessed. A holy calm poured over everything and everyone. One moved from the weekdays into a zone of complete holiness. One threw off the heavy yoke of livelihood, forgot all worries. Hurriedness stopped, people began walking easily, with measured steps. They washed themselves well, dressed in their sabbath clothes and went to pray in a shul or in one of the [hasidic] shtiblekh. Some simply went for a sabbath walk. The table was set with Shabes dishes and tall candlesticks with burning lights that added a splendor and a mysterious mood. The whole family sitting around one table and the specific Shabes foods and songs created a particular impression.

Each holiday was celebrated according to all the laws and customs, especially the holiday of Peysakh [Passover]. Right after Purim people were already preparing ovens and bakeries where carefully-observed matsos would be baked. The week before Peysakh eve people took everything out of the house; everything was whitewashed, laundered, scoured, and the books were aired out. Kashering the utensils and burning the khomets [yeast-containing foods] was a special event in the town, particularly for the children. Jews in various locations in town tended kettles of boiling water and kashered the utensils that the wives brought them. One could smell the burning khomets all over the town, along with the “feather-dusters”.

The interim days [of the eight-day holiday] were used for visiting. No one worked on those days. Teachers would go around in the streets and search out householders to give them a holiday greeting and then pester them into enrolling a kheyder pupil for the next term. Craftsmen negotiated with the worker-societies about prices. Each interim, they were supposed to get a few zlotych. The Sukos interim, as in Peysakh interim, was the “season” for the teachers, workers and servants in the household economy. The “contracts” were renewed and as a rule, with a raise. Jews had a good time during Simkhes Torah. They drank whisky, pilfered stews and honey-cakes, brought them into the shtibelekh and danced on the tables. And so they did on all the other holidays that were celebrated with such beauty and luster.

I recall Tishe b'ov: The congregation went to shul with burlap shoes on their feet, sat on over-turned benches and recited Lamentations with a weeping intonation. Everyone moaned with heartrending voices, both for the destruction

[Page 31]

of the Temple in Jerusalem and for their own problems. At the same time, it was more lively in the street: A group of boys had meanwhile prepared “forest-burrs” and thrown them into the hair of the girls' heads. They generally did hit their targets and the burrs remained stuck in the hair as if grown there. Only with much effort could the burrs be freed. The girls cursed, made believe that bandits would attack the boys, but they did not run away. Others just took care to cover their hair with head-scarves.

The children all studied with private teachers, from the alphabet-teachers up to the teachers of Talmud. When each boy turned four years old, he was taken with much ceremony to the alphabet teacher. The teacher showed the child, using a long, sharp-ended pointer, the first page of the prayer book and the letters of the blessing of the moon, and slowly elucidated the name of each letter separately. The father threw down from above, a large copper coin and called out with affected joy, “The good angel is throwing this down for you, may you be an observant Jew!” The father later gave the child some sweets in order to give him more desire to go to school.

At five years he was already learning to pray. At six years, it was khumesh [the Torah, five books of Moses] with commentary by RaSh”I, and explication of the Torah portion. At eight years he was studying Talmud. The sanitary conditions in the khedarim were far from any ideal. The teacher was always “a pauper with seven coattails” and the study room often also served as kitchen and even as bedroom as well. Besides the teacher who maintained the children in the stifling room from morning until evening, the children often had over them the teacher's wife, and on top of that, also his children who hungrily begged the kheyder pupils for the bread with butter, which their mothers had sent with them.

I recall an image of my kheyder that I will never forget: The room was very small. There were no windows, only a small window in the door. That light was barely enough to see the letters in the book. For a living, along with the teaching, the wife ran a dying business in the same room, and every time she stirred the dyes in the kettle with a long stick, the steam spread over the little room so that it was “as dark as it was in Egypt”; it also made such a stink as to take your breath away. The wife – understandably, as an advertisement for her business – wore all the colors and never washed them. She spoke with a mannish voice and all day cursed her husband and anyone else who, ostensibly, crossed her.

The teacher's tiny house stood a little higher than all the other little houses, and a few of the asymmetrical stones served as steps up to the entrance, which was narrow and low. The table around which we sat was narrow and long and made from un-planed boards. The children sat on long benches on both sides of the table with the teacher at the head. The was no recess

[Page 32]

for the children to play outdoors a little. Even in those minutes when the teacher was not expounding for the students, but only sat and adjusted his robe, the children had to sit quietly and look on with dread and fear at what he was doing. In the whole town there was not one playground. The little houses stood one next to the other on the narrow lanes, there was literally not any place to touch the ground. The teacher's whip even reached the far end of the table, but not always with the correct aim. It was no misfortune when instead of on the shoulder the pupil received the strike on his head. There was no better method of discipline at the time.

Anyone could be a teacher; one did not need any certificates to be one. Indeed, any ne'er-do-well could take it up. The majority were those who knew little more than they themselves learned as children. So, the alphabet is what one learned from them. The teachers did not love being asked questions too often. In providing answers they themselves, poor things, were not big experts. In the khumesh they skipped all the passages that dealt with problems of “she” and “he”. The teacher was not able to find the correct explanation for the secret-filled passages. So he read through those passages quickly, like a Torah-reader recites the list of curses – in one breath – without any interpretation. The children understood that this was uneven, but avoided asking questions. Only a few years later, when they studied the Talmud – Kadushim, Gitin, K'suvos and Nida – did the pupils reach the secret that evaded them all that time.

The teaching of girls was full of complications. They did not go to any kheydarim. There were some women who taught the girls to pray from the prayerbook but that was done without any system. The more capable taught praying and how to read a book in Yiddish. The majority, though, did not know that either. Only in the last decades before the khurbn did the girls (even from religious families) start to seek out the government folk-schools, where they received a secular education. The progressive parents also sent their boys there.

Because of the striking antisemitism that dominated the Polish schools from the side of the teaching staff, the majority of school children did not finish to graduation. The religious youths did not sit out the entire time in the yeshives either (with few exceptions). After a year or two of study they threw off the yoke of Torah along with the long caftan and the black cloth cap, and traded the Talmud for Mendele, Sholem-Aleykhem, Perets and others. They donned a modern hat and with the same enthusiasm that cooked in Abaye and Rava they threw themselves into Party discussions on Hertzl, Borokhov, Zshabotinski and Medem. They helped the ignorant, with one leap, to learn all the problems

[Page 33]

that beset the Jewish people. They took no time to search for a personal goal, but were always busy with Party issues and communicating their ideas.

The town experienced all the rises and shocks as did every large town although with barely any financial resources and intellectual power. The youth took up the chant of the new organic Jewish literature, and indiscriminately swallowed up the works of Perets, Balzac, Goethe and others. All that mixed together in their minds and built up a chaos of thoughts and concepts. The local political venues were always full of noise and tumult, beginning with Scouts, “Frayhayt”, “Poaley-tsien”, to “Tsukunft” and the “Bund”. It was the same in all the other organizations such as “Betar”, Left “Poaley-tsien”, “Ha'shomer ha'tsair”, General Zionists, “Mizrakhi”, “Aguda” and Communists. On Fridays they held checkers evenings, where the audience inquired and the speakers answered questions and “solved” problems such as the state ministers had been unable to solve. Party representatives, brought in from as far as Warsaw, spoke on Shabes during the day. The local venues were packed. Opposing parties heckled them and often disrupted gatherings. More than once that led to opposing fistfights.

Shabes evenings there was theater, or a “dance evening”. The modern dances had not reached the small towns. The musicians were Christians, one with a swollen eye and the other with a lame leg. The youth loved dancing. They danced in the locals, even on the roadway that led to the train station and on the wooden bridge. Both the “Bund” and the Left “Poaley-tsien” had their own drama circles that presented pieces from Goldfaden, Gordin and others. Both occupied the same artistic level. If one had a good comic, the other had a good tragic actor; if one had a good songstress the other had a lovely prima-donna. There was always tumult in town on Shabes night. Children came to the presentation with the needed requisitions: a fur hat, a man's overcoat, a candlestick or tablecloths and other things, all to cover the price of entrance without a ticket. A member, a carpenter, had built a stage. For a lack of boards it came out narrower and shorter. An artist had to cover gaps in the stage, and it wobbled like a mattress in the middle. The evenings were successful for the most part and were the topic of conversation for a long time.

Besides entertainments and theater presentations which the party organizations conducted with their own resources (outsiders were rarely brought in) there were no other diversions in the town. In recent years a Polish initiative brought in a cinema apparatus that showed films in the Polish folk-school. That was an important event for the town. The majority of the guests were Jews. Although

[Page 34]

the offerings were of the cheapest genre – stale films from the old film societies – they still drew the attention of the population who found in them a distraction from the monotony of life.

The town had a name in the whole area for possessing good speakers. The neighboring towns often invited them for lectures, with the goal of building up or strengthening their own political organizations. One town, with a much larger population than Goworowo's, borrowed lecturers and announced them with huge posters with large-type letters “A Mass Gathering with the Participation of Friend Pluni-Almuni from Goworowo!” and the audience came en mass to see and to hear. Almost every party had its own library where most of its membership borrowed books to read. The party was something holy and each one did its work with enthusiasm. The walls of the party venues were full of slogans, painted and drawn by its members, in which was a bit of an inherent homey art.

Once a party had the whim to bring the first radio into the town. The audience came to hear and see “God's wonder” for, of course, a payment of a ten groshen entrance fee. But the radio had so many operators – almost as many as there were members there – and each wanted to show that only he understood the secret of the mechanism and the correct settings, that the radio lost its “tongue”.

When the “Bund” divided into the “Bund” and “KomBund”, and “Poaley-tsien” split into Right and Left, the Zionists – of “El Ha'mshomer” and “Et levones” and the “Tsirey tsien” moved from the Right Poaley-tsien, it all boiled over in the small-town kettle; the arguments invaded every house and affected every family. On Shabes, when the father led the table and sang zmiros, he had to listen with stifled anger to the discussions of his sons and daughters who tried to convince one another that only his party had the monopoly over the whole truth and justice, and that the opposing party had wandered off into the darkness…

I remember how, in a stormy “Bund” meeting where we were supposed to decide between “Bund” or “KomBund”, and to which a speaker who had been dispatched from Warsaw preached in favor of “Bund”. A member from the ranks stood up and called out in a loud voice, “In truth it must remain “KomBund”, but, since we have a member all the way from Warsaw, who incurred expenses and says “Bund”, let it just be the “Bund”.

        The young were hungry for knowledge and “swallowed” everything that was offered. Along with the drive for knowledge there was also, in no smaller measure, the impulse for community organizing. It is no wonder that the youth fell into communal work with their full fervor. Every call for Erets-Yisroel

[Page 35]

was fulfilled with enthusiasm. Members went out in the rain and snow, tromping through mud and deep snow, going from house to house to collect the poor pennies for “Keren kayemet l'yisroel”.

The youth were crammed and stuffed with Zionism. They looked with dreamy eyes toward the unreachable land. Any news in “Haynt”, “Moment”, “Dos Vort”, about a cow arriving in “Ayn Herod”, “Beys Alfa” or “Nahalal” was an important event in the town. If a messenger came from Yisroel he was embraced with love and warmth, and his every word was imbibed with mystical ecstasy. When they heard that someone from a nearby town had made aliya to Erets Yisroel the jealousy was huge. The first members who violently tore themselves away from the town traveled illegally, claiming to be tourists. That was in 1932. A year later that was recalled in our town and several certificates were distributed.

The Pioneer movement also contributed to the rooting of Zionist thought in town. And one fine morning in 1925 there appeared in town two barefoot young men and a woman, with baskets in their hands. They had come to collect food products for a preparatory kibuts, which just a day earlier had enlisted a neighboring prince's estate. The town looked at them as an evil wonder. The youth encircled them and recognized that they were students from Warsaw who had decided to exchange their studies for work in Erets Yisroel. It had the effect of an electrical current on everyone and was the only topic of conversation for a long time.

The first Shabes after that, half of the young people in the town went to see them in the kibuts, in order the look with their own eyes and see how the process of preparation took place. A few days later the town also had a Pioneer organization and went out for preparatory training. They went through all the difficult preparatory work that was obligatory then in order to make aliya.

The party organizations make several attempts to organize various cultural institutions in town, such as Hebrew courses for evenings, kindergartens and so on but those did not last long. The householders who were more or less good financial founders, did not understand the project. Rather, they called it strange to “start at the beginning”. The party did not have a large sum of money at its disposal and the initiators were hounded from every side. The struggle of the parents was a quiet one, but a bitter one. The parents felt that in the uneven fight against their children, they were being forfeited. They scolded the children, often with slaps, but it did not help. While they wished the children welded into chains, they tore out of the chains and freed themselves. The youth smelled freedom and protested against the deep-rooted monotonic life that

[Page 36]

did not fit in the frame of the new, free and very promising life.

In the larger towns the youth had long been triumphant and carried the banner of light with arrogance. For us, though, the winds came a little slower. And so the struggle was hateful, bitter, and the youth put everything at stake in order to win quickly. To this day I do not understand how it came to the Goworowo youth to be so dynamic and vehement, awake and alive about the thing.

Later the parents became envious of the youth, and in a certain hindsight decided to take them as an example. Thus, the artisans founded an artisans' union and concentrated around their artisans' bank; the merchants' union grouped themselves around their merchants' bank. And for the poor population, a gemiles-khesed [interest-free bank] was later established. So, almost everyone in town who needed a money “injection” clung to their bank and someone else helped with a guarantee co-signature. The merchants' bank was operated with order, had a good official apparatus and in a short time even succeeded in moving into its own building.

Everyone possessed a warm heart, none allowed anyone else to fall. If someone was pinched, a sum of money was quickly collected and given as a “loan” even if never repaid. The good name of the town often drew needy people even from distant lands. Not only in material things, but also in the area of politics there were requests for our party strengths from other towns; that strength assured their success and we never denied them, but gave with a broad hand. Heart and soul were found in our town, and one helped another in whatever way they could.

* * *

My life in the town ran by me like a lovely film. One image chased the next. I retain a feeling of sweetness, accompanied by longing for those pleasant 24 years of mine there, which went by so quickly. The eye wants once again to take in that town, the feet – to walk on its homey lanes, the hands – with a tremble to touch everything that was so dear to me. But – there was a little Jewish town, and it is no more. An evil hand erased it along with the proud Jewish life. Erased forever.

 

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