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When the hasidic shtibl was constructed, Pinkhas Likhtenberg began to gather a congregation for his shtibl. He did not want it to be the sort of rag-tag hasidic spot as the “big shtibl”. In the end he was surrounded by merchants in the courtyard. Even the rich, Germanic wool-spinners from Lodzsh came to him. He also did not want too much wrangling with his Germanic wife. He certainly wanted peace in the home. So, he set out a list of who should pray in his shtibl. He wrote out the list at home, in his office. The list was written in pearly, scholarly handwriting, and he placed it carefully between the covers of a Guide to the Perplexed. One must admit: Pinkhas Likhtenberg had expressed masterfulness even in that area.

Nevertheless, he had seen to it that Reb Leyvi Kahan would pray with him. With that, he wanted to snatch the rose from the “big shtibl”. With that he also kashered the shtibl in the eyes of his German wife, who was always angry at that wild notion of making a hasidic shtibl right under her nose. Publicly, before everyone's eyes, she had therefore worn her own hair as a protest. Let everyone see what she, Dobzshinski's daughter, thought of Pinkhas Likhtenberg's dark deeds. R' Leyvi Kahan wanted to make her shut

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her mouth. However, if the old Baron Hayntsl was not ashamed to be friends with Reb Leyvi, to speak with him in Yiddish and to ride with him over Pietrikov Street in the rich aristocrat's coach – why must she, Dobzshinski's daughter, not benefit from the honor if R' Leyvi Kahan was seen with her in the courtyard. Pinkhas' wife was indeed a little quieted when she heard who would be one of the first of the congregants in the shtibl. Secondly: He would let everyone hear, along with R' Leyvi himself, which shtibl Pinkhas Likhtenberg intended to make in his house. Torah and greatness in one place.

Each person whom Pinkhas chose as one of his prayers was a true attraction. And I will intentionally dwell on some of them.

For shtibl-shames he chose Naske from Goworowo. To explain who Naske was, is not one of the lighter things. And among the rare Lodzsh Jews, Naske was a rare Jew. What livelihood Naske had before he became shames in Pinkhas' shtibl is also hard to say, because Naske was the typical anarchist of any who ever lived in this world. He did not honor any order or any kind or organizing, no kind of legal community and no kind of community obligation of people to people. He was an individualist of the most extreme sort – and livelihood would certainly fit in with a community order. He chose his livelihoods according to the need of the moment. Here he was a teacher, there he threw over teaching and began carrying a can of oil around to rich people's houses, or pushing wagons across Pietrikov Street along with all the simple porters – although everyone who knew Naske, also knew what a sharp hasid and sharp scholar he was. Naske did not take anyone into account, he did not recognize any duties and any conventions around the community.

Naske himself was a tall Jew with fiery flaming red hair, with a fiery red beard and flaming red peyes, which he always had tied together under a velvet hat. No one knew why or when, Naske would suddenly stand up in the middle of the house or in a noisy street, and with rash impatience untie the peyes and let them out from under the hat. It looked like two streams of fire falling down on both sides of his face. And Naske went around for a while with his peyes unbound. People looked, but Naske did not look at people. Until he would stop still and tie the peyes back under his hat.

I believe that no person had ever seen Naske's eyes. He held them, with fierce stubbornness, heavily lowered, both when he spoke with someone and when he was walking in the street. I always wondered how Naske knew where he was going if he did not look and walked with his eyes lowered. Looking at someone, like looking around oneself, is a kind of partnership with someone. And that was something he did not do. Even

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his language was different. He spoke his own dialect, and pronounced the Yiddish words in his bizarre way. Because language is a specific commonality among people, Naske did not accept that. Naske spoke in his own Naskish language and one had to know him well in order to understand him. For example, he did not say “shoyfer” but “sheyfer”; not “yoytse zayn” but “yeytse zayn”. Every Yiddish word sounded different from Naske's mouth. A true anarchist.

Thus, Naske had never succeeded in traveling out of Lodzsh, although he had several times chosen to travel to his hometown of Goworowo. Why he suddenly needed, out of the clear blue sky, to travel there no one knew. He only said, “I'm going to Goworowo”. But he never did manage to go. Because Naske was never able to believe that the train really left from Lodzsh on a regular schedule, and it did indeed keep to its schedule. That kind of regulation that was under this nose and in relation to his trip to Goworowo, would be absolutely contradictory to Naske's spirit. When people told him that the train left, for example, from Lodzsh at ten minutes after four o'clock. Naske, in his great surprise, untied his flaming red peyes from under his hat and they fell around his cheeks. He looked sharply at the floor through his lowered eyes and finally arrived at the train two hours later. And he was still surprised that the train had actually left according to the schedule. What a crazy world! Nevertheless, Naske believed that what happened today was just a wild chance, that the train left according to the schedule. Tomorrow it would surely leave anytime it felt like it. Naske arrived again three hours after the scheduled time. That way, he was expressing his trust that the train was not crazy and went in his Naskish manner. When, in his disappointment with the train he repeated this for several more days and Naske saw that the train was not making a joke with the schedule, Naske reconsidered: he would not go the Goworowo after all.

That was the kind of Jew that Pinkhas Likhtenberg had chosen for a shames in his shtibl. When everyone asked him, how is it possible that such a strange wild-man was to operate the shtibl's accounts, sell aliyes and in general run the economy of the shtibl, Pinkhas smiled quietly and said that it would soon be fine – how would it be fine? Already in the first weeks of his job Naske demonstrated his anarchism, and did so with none other than the powerful tsarist government, in this way: Pinkhas had installed gas lighting in his shtibl. When the first bill arrived to pay for the gas, Naske did not believe that the state gas facility meant it for real. He did not believe in paying bills. Naske threw the official gas bill into the trash. Eventually the last deadline came – the gas facility sent an

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official, who turned off the gas meter and hung a lead seal bearing a Russian eagle from it. A fine threat to Naske Goworowo! When twilight came and they needed to light the gas lamps in the shtibl, Naske did not make any long evasions. Before everyone's eyes, he went to the gas meter, ripped off the government lead seal and opened the meter again. The Jews shouted that not only would Naske go away in chains for that, but that Pinkhas Likhtenberg would be dragged off to prison with him. Naske did not respond.

In passing, I want to add: In Goworowo, in 1918 when the Germans suffered a defeat in the First World War and the population in all the Polish towns disarmed the German military – Naske suddenly ran out of the shtibl and into Pietrikov Street. He let loose in his red peyes and with his eyes lowered ran up to a German soldier. The German was shocked and handed his rifle over to Naske. Naske went back into the shtibl and placed the German rifle near the holy Ark.

[from the book “Poylin”, Volume 3]

Orignal footnote:

1. Naske Kats, the old Brilant's son-in-law. Return

The sources for books in town were exclusively at the party-associated libraries: the General Zionist Organization's “Tekhiye”, the “Poaley tsion” Zionist Socialists' named for Brener, the “Bund” named for Perets, and others. There were also some who “subscribed” to books directly from the Warsaw publishers. But there was also a bookstore in town, which was owned by Meyshe Yehoshe Ginzburg. In truth, it was not a bookstore in the full sense of the word, but one could find quite a good assortment with him. It was not a front-business with shelves of sorted books, just a private residence where the books were the books were strewn in dozens of places. It was a symbol of disorder there. It was also no wonder: Reb Meyshe Yehoshe was already an old man and not having a wife, he had to all the household work as well; so, he could not always manage it all.

Reb Meyshe Yehoshe was a great scholar and a lover of books. Usually, he sat and consulted a holy book and it was hard for him to tear himself away from it. He did not begin to do anything in the house until he had finished with the book.

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So he sat, either by himself in a room or in the hours of prayer in the shul – always bent over a book, squinting his left eye and not seeing what went on around him. He swam with his whole being in the secret worlds. He was an expert in the entire Talmud and Commentators and also loved to read the Hebrew “secular” press. When Reb Meyshe Yehoshe came into the shul, even the Rov stood up for him. If someone needed to ask a legal question, or lay out a negotiation, they turned to him. He did not need to think, quickly gave an answer, not once taking his eyes off the book.

He was a very old man, but he did not yet wear glasses. His shoulders were already hunched from always sitting bent over books. He lived on the “broad” street, across from the town Rov, in one room. In one corner stood a wooden bed which was hardly ever made up and in the other corner was the kitchen, with utensils around it. Books, holy books mixed up the novels, lay about everywhere: on the bed, on the table, on the chairs and even on the floor. When someone came in to buy a book, it was also hard for him to tear himself away for the book and talk with the customer. He gave the impression that he would rather get rid of the customer and get back to his book. So, people did not like to buy books from him. It was difficult to discuss matters with him and to consult with him about what book to select. Mostly the customer himself had to take the trouble to look over all the books as they were, scattered about, until he found something.

I bought my first books from him, picking them out myself. I had to opportunity to look around and to familiarize myself with more books. My being in his room for hours did not disturb him at all; I did not need to pull him from his occupation. Overall, he did not see me at all.

His son Binyumin, already an adult man, was the first intellectual in town; it was the custom of the youth, even before the rise of the political movements among us. He was a person of high education who brought the Zionist thought into Goworowo. He frequently gave lectures, and he educated a generation of party leaders.

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Every Jewish community in Poland wanted to be able to boast such a respected proprietor as was Reb Avrom Mordkhe Fridman of blessed memory. A distinguished scholar in the full sense of the word, a clever man in many areas; people asked his advice in the most complicated business matters and in personal problems; a leader in supporting the Jewish community as well as a wealthy man who came to it through his extraordinary honesty. He was the synonym of the honest merchant. His word was holy, both for Jews and for the goyim. Jews treasured him and goyim thought more highly of him than their own priests. One could say of him that his house was “a place of Torah and greatness in one place” and even if he had lived in Warsaw, he would also have been reckoned among the finest and most prominent proprietors in that great capitol city.

As the Talmud says in verse Eyzer kenagdu, “============ etc. Reb Avrom Mordkhe did indeed merit and his wife Reytse was also distinguished with virtues and good qualities and was much beloved in the town for her good heartedness and love of people. He was a member of the local council for a time, and she sought to help orphans and widows; he gave to charity and to community work, and she gave many anonymous gifts and other social aid. Indeed, their house was a meeting-place, and the town was proud of them.

Reb Avrom Mordkhe was born in Goworowo in 1860 to his parents Shabsay Dovid and Khaye Ester, who operated a manufacturing business in the town. He studied in the town study-house, and clung to the Sokhstshove rebi, the “avni nazir”, from whom he received his “model” of learning. He married his wife Reytse, the daughter of Yitskhak Dovid and Rive Openheym, owners of a restaurant in Tshekhonov.

After the wedding Reb Avrom Mordkhe took over his father's manufacturing business, which brought him large profits. His wife Reytse devoted herself to the business while he studied Torah or did deeds of charity. He was a passionate hasid and often traveled to the rebis of Novominsk, Parisov, Sokhotshev, and finally, to the Ger Rebi, Rov Avrom Mordkhe'le Alter may his memory be for a blessing. He was an avid follower of the Agudas Yisroel Party and supported all their activities.

Reb Avrom Mordkhe passed on in 1930 in Goworowo, and his wife Reytse further maintained the business along with her son Henekh.

The wife Reytse was murdered along with her sons Elkhonen and Henekh and their wives and children, in Slonim, by the murderous hands of the Nazis.

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My father R' Khayim Malkiel stemmed from an aristocratic family in Lomzshe. The first rabbi in Lomzshe, the well-known saint Rov Zalmele Hasid, was his great-grandfather. My father's father, Rov Eliahu, was reared in Stalptse. He studied in the big yeshives and was known as a scholar, and he was also very talented musically. In his youth he sang in the choir of the famous composer Nisn Belzer. After his marriage to my grandmother Gite Sheynkop, he became cantor and ritual slaughterer in Sokhotshin, near Plonsk. My grandfather, however, did not remain in a community post his whole life, but returned to Lomzshe, opened a food store, and drew his living from that.

All his children possessed native talents for music, and my grandfather educated them further and taught them singing and composition. His son Menakhem was cantor-ritual slaughterer in Sarotsk and in Kreve. He sang in a fine baritone and was also capable of learning. The second son Yankev Kopl was a genius in his youth. He was ordained at 18 years of age from “Hofets Khayim”. In his youth he inspired wonder with his singing. He sang in the largest shuls, standing on a bench because he could not reach the cantor's stand. He also did not want to stay in the small town as a cantor. He became a Hebrew teacher in a Lomzshe middle-school. Later he went off to America and became a lecturer in a rabbinical seminary. The younger son Meyshe was a phenomenal singer. He spent a lot of time at home with my father. For the holidays he would come to us in Goworowo to help my father with the services. He married a Goworowo girl, Rokhl, a daughter of Yisroel Leyzer Zamlson. For several years after the wedding he lived in Goworowo and tutored a youth choir. He prayed the high holidays in a Lomzshe shul. He and his whole family were murdered in the Holocaust in Lomzshe.

Their younger son Shleyme was also a beautiful singer. He would sing with my father in Goworowo and later, in Vishkove. Today he is in America.

But the most talented singer of all the brothers was the first-born, my father Khayim Malkiel of blessed memory. My grandmother used to say that even as a child in the cradle his little voice sounded so sweet, that they soon recognised that he would grow up to be a great cantor. His voice was wonderful, his coloratura and feeling literally enchanted people. When he sang for the cantors Nisn Blumental and Pinkhas Minkovski in Odessa, they were inspired by his

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talent. Even gentiles came to shul to hear him sing. When he was cantor in Makove there was a separate gallery for the gentiles of the high-ranking “natshalstva” circles, who came to shul and waited through all the prayers until he would sing.

Khayim Malkiel Brukhansky of blessed memory

He himself authored many compositions and many hasidic nigunim which he sang at the tables of the Ger Rebi.

In his youth he studied in the Mir Yeshive. After his marriage to my mother Rokhl Leye, he took on his first post as cantor-ritual slaughterer in Seratsk near Warsaw. He did not make much of a living there, and after a year went

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to Novidvor and from there to Makove. He was cantor-ritual slaughterer there for six years and always took care that the essence and the flavor of the prayers be at the appropriate level. He was meticulous in that area. Recognizing that the Makove Rov, Yisroel Nisn Kupershtokh, was also an extraordinary master of prayer, my father particularly helped him in “Neile”, when the Rov prayed in the famous Makove shul. But he did not make a living there either and remained a pauper.

Then the Goworowo householders Mayer Romaner and Shayke Hertsberg, whose families stemmed from Makove, proposed that he be cantor-slaughterer in Goworowo. They promised him the best conditions and a large sum of money to pay his debts.

For parshas sheklim 1911, my farther traveled to Goworowo with a choir of 12 persons, in which his two brothers Menakhem and Meyshe also took part. He prayed the Shabes prayers so beautifully that the Goworowo Jews were ecstatic. They decided to hire him at any price. Soon after that Shabes, a delegation of Goworowo householders headed by Dovid Liver to represent the working people and artisans came to Makove with a purse of money. Father accepted the post.

In Goworowo we first lived in a three-room apartment in Dovid Liver's building, until we were well oriented. The love of the Goworowo Jews for us was indescribable. Every night in our house was like a joyful holiday. On Shabes and actual holidays it was even more joyous. All the householders, hasidim and “enlighteners”, came to us to rejoice and drink a little whisky. Our house was full of song. The cantor flowed together with the town as one body. Everyone sang along with father's “little pieces”. “Ha'ben Yakir li Efroym”, “Ha'teoreru”, “Kaboros” and a bit of “V'hu yasmieynu” were the most valuable merchandise in town. Several youths and boys from Makove who were studying singing and ritual slaughtering with my father also came with him, and were literally snatched up by the householders, such as Gavriel Yalovitsh, Avrom Mordkhe Fridman, Itshe Mayer Fridman and others. Especially noted were the boys Binyumin Mundzak with his lovely solos; Hersh Leybl Shtern from Ostrolenke, a brother of the poet Yisroel Shtern; Meyshe Binyumin Rzshepka, a yeshive man who had a beautiful bass-baritone voice and was a good soloist. From Goworowo itself were Henekh, a relative of Yehoshe Rozen, a good soprano who later moved to America; Yisroel Niks, a soprano; Leyb Hersh Fleysher the cap-maker and Khayim Leyb Proske's son-in-law, a tenor; two brothers from the Lis family, tenor and baritone; Khonen Vaysbord, a baritone, and later, Avrom Holtzman, Motl Lerman and others.

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For the Days of Awe my uncle Meyshe also came, and it was a full ensemble, which enchanted the congregation. Even hasidim in the shtiblekh hurried to finish their prayers in order to catch a few tones from my father.

It was a tradition in Goworowo that the cantor make a feast for the proprietors of the study-house after Shabes, after slikhes. But for my father the hasidim did not want to miss the pleasure and they also came. A big dispute grew out of that. Reb Dovid was alarmed: “You have the little reflectors! Soon they will take our cantor from us, too!” My father smoothed it over, and then there was peace.

At that time the old Rov Kahana-Botshan of blessed memory, was still alive. He only studied Torah and did not mix into any community matters. My father had to fill a double function – to represent the Rov in all matters. Livelihood was abundant and usually happy and cheerful.

The gentile population in Goworowo also valued my father very much. When, during the First World War, the Rov and the proprietors were arrested for the accusation of the “eruv-telephone” case, they treated my father with respect. The police commandant was passing the house and said, “This is where our beloved “shpievik” and “zsheshek” lives.” Because of that many people staying at our house were saved.

It was during that time that the local council introduced the oversight of shkhite [ritual slaughter of animals for food] because of the money involved and the hygiene. So the police always kept the sheykhet's slaughtering knife, and gave it back only for a slaughtering in their presence. Of course, the sheykhet had another knife for slaughtering whenever he wanted or if someone needed it, without the knowledge of the police. But the commandant had a good excuse to look in on us, drink a little glass of whisky with snacks, and visit a little with my father.

Although my father was a staunch Ger hasid, he still loved Erets Yisroel very much. He collected money for the emissaries from the yeshives in Erets Yisroel and he took the Zionist youth under his wing. The town Zionist leaders Binyumin Ginsburg, Yekhiel Pshisusker, Shmuel Fridman, Dovid Fridman and Khonen Vaysbord often came to him to hear his songs of Israel.

My father found it very stimulating to hear the Torah read by a good and exacting Torah reader. Thus, he went to hear R' Yekl Klepfish read. That was a real Shabes pleasure for him. For shofar blower my father always chose Khayim Ber Grudke (later my father-in-law) who was a good blower. He was also very pleased with Menashe Holtsman's morning-prayers during the Days of Awe. He used to say that Menashe Holtsman prayed well at the stand and could adjust the prayers. For the third meal of Shabes all the musicians gathered at the Rov's house and sang zmiros together.

Those were good years in Goworowo. The idyll did not last long, before the town was burned and ruined in the First World War.

Even after that, when the town began to be rebuilt, there was no livelihood for my father. With a heavy heart, he had to leave there and take over a post in Zakrotshim. In 1921 he came to Vishkove as cantor-ritual slaughterer. Here my father had the opportunity to conduct his cantoring on a larger scale. My brother Hersh Yosef and I assisted him in his work. My brother was also a ritual slaughterer. And my sister Brayne Dvore and her husband Mikhael Brame were musical.

All this ended with the great destruction of Polish Jewry by Hitler. My father had the merit to die in his own bed, in the Lomzshe hospital, on the 18^th of Shevet in 1940. He was buried in the Lomzshe cemetery near the grave of the Rov. My whole family – mother, brother and sister with her husband and two children, were murdered as kidush-ha'shem martyrs in Slonim.

May God avenge their blood.

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My Father Reb Yonatan descended from a very illustrious family in Warsaw, where his parents, wealthy hasidim, had lived for many generations. He came to Goworowo as a son-in-law of Khayim Elieyzer Koen may he rest in peace, whom he had taken for his daughter Khaye Leye.

Reb Yonatan ran a big iron business and was the chief purveyor for the local princely estates. My father figured among the wealthy people of the town, and despite the fact that he lived in this small place for decades, in his essence and in his day-to-day dealings he remained a big-city type, who had a hard time fitting into the narrow frame of the small-town householders. He strove to get the Goworowo householders to take him as an example, and not the other way around.

His house had been renovated, with large, airy rooms and a permanent suke, with a roof that opened and other large-town comforts. He went out on the street in a finely-tailored long-coat, with never any stains on his clothes and wearing shiny leather boots. His beard was always properly combed. All this was far from the concepts of the shtetl householders, who were accustomed to having their kapotes shine, and not their boots.

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He was loved and accepted by everyone, especially the better part of the shtetl population. Going past his house, especially on the long winter nights, one could generally hear the voice of Torah. That was Reb Yonatan studying the lesson with his grown sons, Mayer and Meyshe. The passer-by would listen for a while and think to himself: that is called Torah and greatness in one place.

My father was one of the most eminent Aleksander Hasidim in the land. As a young man he traveled to the old rebi, Rov Yekhiel may his memory be for a blessing. The rabeyim of the Aleksander line who used to visit Goworowo, generally stayed and conducted their “tables” in his house. He was a relative of the Amshinov Rebi, and when it was time for the rebi's yortsayt he went to Rov Burshtin may God avenge his blood, who considered himself an Amshinov Rov, for a blessing.

The yortsaytn of the Aleksander Rabeyim, which were generally connected with a feasting mitsve or an end-of-Shabes meal, took place in his home. On the seventh day of Passover the congregation usually came to his home for kidush, and when it came time for the ceremony of drawing water – which took place in his spacious suke – the people stayed until late in the night with a little keg of beer and singing, dancing hasidim. By the way, his neighbors always ate in his suke: Reb Yeshaye Ayznberg, his son-in-law Yosef Dovid Ostashever and long may he live Reb Niske Mozes the ritual slaughterer. For me, sitting in the suke with such a large and merry group is etched into my memory and belongs to the most pleasant memories of that time.

Along with the fact that Reb Yonatan was one of the old-time pious hasidim, he was also a sharp scholar, an expert in Talmud and excelled was noted for a special logic in learning. The Rov often consulted with him on difficult questions of observance.

Reb Yonatan took pains to educate his children in his way. Indeed, his sons were all Talmud scholars and at the same time devoted lovers of Zion, loyal to the idea of religious Zionism.

My father died in his bed in Warsaw, in Tevet sav-shin, just before the ghetto was opened. But his sons Mayer and Meyshe with their families, and his younger son Khayim Elieyzer – a remarkably dear boy – died in the Warsaw ghetto. Yosef Dovid Ostashever, his son-in-law, and his wife, his daughter Yetke and their four children, were killed in the slaughter of Slonim. May God avenge their blood!

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Reb Matisyahu Rozen of blessed memory was born to his parents Reb Yisroel Yitskhak and Rivke Royze Rozen of blessed memory. His father was one of the town's prominent proprietors and rich Jews. He had a grocery store on the market square and also dealt with the local noble landowners.

At the beginning of this century, Reb Matisyahu married Sheyne Kosovski (one of Yitskhak Kosovski's sisters), and then began to deal in the lumber trade, along with his father-in-law who was already in that business. After his father-in-law Yitskhak's marriage, they bought a place on the “broad” street where they build a spacious building and left space under it for a lumber warehouse. Both partners dealt in large lots, buying up whole “dzsholkes” of forests from the local estate holders, had them cut in Glinke's sawmill and sent the largest part to export. A small portion they left for the local market. They got rich from the large business and were considered the rich men of the town.

Reb Matisyahu ran a generous home on a big-town scale. It was always full of guests, the majority merchants from outside, customers from the area, as well as noble landowners with whom he had business ties.

Reb Matisyahu was an Aleksander Hasid, although I do not recall if he ever traveled to the rebi. It is possible he took up his hasidism as an “inheritance” from his father Reb Yisroel Yitskhak, who was a fiery hasid, traveling to the old Aleksander Rebi, together with Reb Yoske Piontnitsa (or Pshenitsa – he was known as Rokhl Shmuelke's husband). Reb Matisyahu did first pray in an Aleksander shtibl, but later went over to a “Mizrakhi” minyen.

As a wealthy Jew, he usually spent generously on benevolent goals. If someone set out to build a community building, he would always donate “wholesale”; and if the foundation was ready and they were really constructing it but did not have the means to finish it, he took care of the roof. He very often donated a “kidush” to the “shtibl”, and for special occasions he invited the congregation to his home. Of course, the refreshments were the best – fit for a king.

Reb Matisyahu had a claim to be the “Torah groom”, which he would buy for any price. Although the hasidim specially pressed him to spend money, knowing that he would not relinquish the mitsve, he did not

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resent it and paid the largest sum and after musaf held a “kidush” at his home.

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resent it and paid the largest sum and after musaf held a “kidush” at his home.

His wife Sheyne may God avenge her blood		His daughter Yehudis		Reb Matisyahu Rozen of blessed memory

Reb Matisyahu was meticulous about his appearance. When he had to travel to see a prince about trade matters, he put on his holiday clothes in order to make the proper impression. He did not stand against the wealthy landowners on price. He also bought with an open hand. “It should be for everyone”, he would say after every acquisition from the forest. And that was just how it was. He and his father-in-law earned a name as honest merchants among the princes and the name went before them all those years.

Reb Matisyahu was a clever Jew. He also had a sense of humor, loved to joke and liked to hear and retell a cheerful story. When he traveled to Warsaw to the merchants to settle accounts, he always brought gifts for his family members. Although he was never concerned about purchasing them, he always brought them home as “Bargains”, saying that he paid less for the things. “Both parties are happy”, he would quip, “the merchant from whom I bought the things and those who will use them.”

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After a long illness, Reb Matisyahu died a few years before the war.

May his soul be bound up in the band of the living.

His wife Sheyne was quiet and unassuming, good-natured and a very efficient housekeeper. She was known for her good works but did not want people to talk about them. He home was always “open”. If anyone needed help with anything, they went straight to Sheyne. She gave with an open hand, as was appropriate for a wealthy woman.

She ran her home in a rich way, and everything there was in order. Her husband Matisyahu sponsored a kidush after his being called to the Torah as a standard practice, which was precisely prepared. Sheyne always had integrity, she simply knew no other way. She avoided gossip and lived in peace with all, and no one ever heard a sharp word from her.

They had a single daughter, Yehudis. The daughter, a picture-perfect girl, received the appropriate rearing and education, and was counted among the intellectual young people of the town. She inherited the good qualities of her parents and was beloved by everyone. In 1917 she was among the founders of the Zionist Organization in Goworowo. She was active in community affairs for many years. In the beginning of the 1920s she married Dovid Segal from Kharzshl, a scholar and an Enlightener. His father Yekhezkel was a prominent Aleksander Hasid there and a good prayer leader. After their wedding the young couple moved to Warsaw and opened an amber business. They were not successful however, and returned to Goworowo. Both fathers-in-law took Dovid in as a partner in their lumber business, where he worked mostly in the sawmill. At the same time Segal took his proper place in the community.

They left Goworowo in the middle of the 1930s and moved with their three children to Ostrolenke. During the outbreak of the war they – along with their mother Sheyne Roze – found a place of refuge in Slonim. Sheyne, Yehudis, Dovid and their two children Hele and Meyshe, later shared the fate of all the Slonim martyrs may God avenge their blood. Their older son Khone succeeded in surviving the war and today is in America, with a wife and two children.

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My Father Reb Yitskhak or, as people called him, Itshe Kosovski, was a son of Khone Alter and Frume Kosovski from Ostrov-Mazovietsk. My grandmother's father – that is, my father grandfather Reb Neyekh Yashinovski of blessed memory, a great scholar, was an in-law of the Makover Rebi Rov Fishele may his sainted memory be a blessing. His son Yitskhak (a brother of my grandmother) married the Makover Rebi's daughter Reyzele. Yitskhak and Reyzele died in Erets Yisroel were buried in Tiberias (or Tsfat) more than a half-century ago.

Our family should, in all probabilities, stem from the village Kosove back from the time when our great-grandparents took on the family name and from then on, the name Kosovski.

The family Kosovski was many-branched and spread out over numerous large towns in Poland. They were found in Warsaw, Bialystok, Grodne, Volkovisk, Ostrov- Mazovietsk and other places. In the last century, also in other countries.

My grandfather Reb Khone Alter, a Talmud expert, stemmed from Ostrov-Mazovietsk. He dealt in lumber and also had a “maydan”, a special oven to extract turpentine, in Yarzshombek near Ostrov. He became wealthy from those businesses. My father himself, of all the children, took over the lumber trade.

As shown in the official documents, my father was born in 1880, but in fact he was younger. That was done specially in order to avoid serving in the tsar's military. At the time there was a decree that of a set of twins, only one had to serve; well, he was a twin and that served him well. But he was still called up for the Russian-Japanese War, because the “green ticket” only freed him in times of peace.

My father came to Goworowo, apparently, after the marriage of his older sister Sheyne to Matisyahu Rozen, in the beginning of this century. Then Matisyahu joined the lumber trade and dealt in partnership with my father, whom he already knew. After that they worked together for many years.

Soon after the wedding, which took place a few years later,

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my parents lived at Borekh Mints' house. A little alter my father, in partner with Matisyahu, bought the place of on the “broad” street from a certain Mendl Khana'tshe's and there built a fine double-house was well as a lumber warehouse.

Reb Yitskhak and Dina Kosovski of blessed memory

They dealt in huge volumes and were reckoned among the few wealthy men in the town. They purchased entire “dzshalkes” of forest from the local landowners, especially from the richest estate owner, Glinka, who cut the lumber in his sawmill for which they held a lease for many years. And the majority of the prepared material was exported. They kept a small portion for the local market. They employed dozens of gentile day-workers, beginning with skilled workers in the sawmill up to various laborers like choppers, sawyers (“tratshes”), wagon-drivers and so on. Further, in the seasons of cutting the trees, they hired many more workers, in particular wagon-drivers who drove the trees out of the forest on small sleds and brought them to the sawmill.

In buying the forests and in extracting the maximum from each tree, and in cutting in the mill, my father was a specialist (perhaps he was more of a tradesman than merchant). Once he had laid the “gauge” on the trunk of a tree he already knew by eyeing it, what and how much the tree would offer. He rarely made a mistake.

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Although we had people busy working for us, my father worked hard, literally from sunup to sundown. Especially in the winter months the work was “hot” – they had to try to cut and take out the timber while the frost and snow remained. In those months my father sold on the spot all the branches and some firewood, and came back with a good daily ransom. We often exclaimed when he came home so late.

My father was a good man through and through. Not only with his own did he have good relationships, but also with the gentiles, his workers. He pretended “not to see” when a gentile took a little wood, or someone “forgot” to repay a debt. He also did not stay in disagreement with them, avoided disputes, and simply did not allow them them to pick a quarrel. He made an effort in general not to make any enemies, because, in the end, being in the woods for years with the gentiles, that could make for danger.

Prepared wood (boards) was often bought by the big Warsaw merchant Rubinlikht. He sent us his “man”, Shedletski from Dlugoshadle (today he is in Israel) and he would take over the material. After such a customer I would, or my younger brothers would, sit for hours with the cubic-meter booklet and try to figure out from the tables how many meter-lengths of wood was in the transport.

As already said, my father was an industrious person and loved order. When he had a free hour or so he would go into the lumber warehouse and call us children to come and help him put back and sort the various kinds of wood that over time had ben tossed around and gotten mixed together. On Sukes he had regular folks who came to borrow boards for their sukes and would return them after the holiday. If someone brought them back with nails (tshvekes) in them he did not say anything. It was also our tradition every winter for our partnership business to distribute tens of meters of firewood as gifts to the needy.

Our house was a religious-national one and participated in a broad range of charitable gifts, as was appropriate for wealthy people. My father himself,

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except for his “Jewish” cap, wore a short coat with a cravat and a cropped beard. He first prayed at the Aleksander shtibl but with the founding of the “Mizrakhi” minyen he went straight over there. He considered himself one of the “Mizrakhi”-men and one of its leaders.

Except for my brother Khayim may God avenge his blood, we, the other three children, were active in the Zionist-Revisionist movement. When Khayim decided that he would go to the Lomzshe Yeshive to study, father happily accepted it but in no way would he allow him to “eat days” [in other people's homes] but supported him privately. After we finished the “folks shule” our father sent us to continue our education with private Polish teachers, even though this was very expensive. I still remember that for a long time, before my move to Warsaw, Beytsalel Yosl came to our home and studied a chapter of Talmud and commentaries with me.

My father was one of the members and activists of the Merchants' Bank – the ”Bank Kreditovi” in town. Though the management changed over the years, my father continued the work without interruption – at its founding in the mid 1920s up until the decimation of the town. All those years my father was active as treasurer, wining the trust of everyone. The bank operations involved many thousands of zlotych, and, well, who else could you trust but a rich man?

My father was a modest and honest person and always trod a straight path. What he decided to do, or to tell someone, that was his intention. He loathed betrayal, telling lies, dragging a matter out. He avoided gossip and disputes and distanced himself from them. For helping someone and doing good deeds , he was always ready.

More than once he left his private businesses and literally ran to the bank to take care of matters of some pressing loans, or to avoid someone's promissory note being “contested”. He very often paid from his own pocket for someone's note, or just as an act of charity; to say nothing of the small or larger charities he liked – because in our house one never forgot.

My mother Dina was several years younger than my father, and came from Piontnitse, near Lomzshe. Her father was called Berl Leyb Koviar, and her mother, Leye. My mother's family were Lomzshe Enlighteners, eminent in the whole region. That grandfather of mine was also in the lumber trade. He worked with forests of immense proportions and had many brokers and workers. It is possible that the trade relationships of both my grandfathers brought about the marriage match of their children.

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My mother was quiet, refined and very modest. She was devoted not only to us, her own, but to everyone she came into contact with. Very often she stood in the shadows. She cared first of all for others, taking care of something for another was first in place, and then she did for herself.

She had “her” poor folks. They came regularly every week for prepared, cooked meals and for produce. And she gave very generously.

My mother was a model of justice and fairness. She could not tolerate any injustice. She was a person with a warm Jewish heart and with many good qualities and served as an example for others.

Ours was, as they say, “an open house”. A guest in the middle of the week, or on Shabes, was a frequent event. During that time when children from outside came to study in Goworowo, my mother gave two or three boys “eating days” during the week. She also did not neglect their clothing when the pupils were clearly in need.

After the outbreak of the Second World War, my parents wandered to Bialystok. In 1940 they were sent north by the Russians, along with all the “biezshentses”. My father's mother too – that is, my Grandmother Frume – was with them and died in exile at an old age. Afterwards, when they freed all the Polish citizens in 1941, my parents traveled to Uzbekistan. They did not survive until the actual liberation and end of the War. My father died on the 22^nd of “Elul” 1942 (tes-shin”beys), and my mother a half year later on the 8^th of Oder 1944 (tes-shin”daled). They were buried there in Kalkoz Kalin, Kadzshavade Region, Andizshan Oblast. Their bones remain in a strange land.

May their souls be bound up in the band of the living.

Grandmother Frume of blessed memory		Khayim and Khaye'tshe may God avenge their blood		Nakhman of blessed memory

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I want to mention at the end my youngest brother Nakhman, who died in Warsaw after a short illness in 1935 at only 13 years of age; my brother Khayim and his wife Khaye'tshke (nee Hendlish), who were murdered with her parents along with all the Lomzshe Jews; my uncle Zalman Kosovski, of Ostrolenke, and his wife, daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren, as well as his brother Velvl; my mother's large family Kovior in Warsaw, several family members from the family Lavski from Zambrove and all the other relatives who were part of the fate of the 6 Million martyrs.

May God avenge their blood!

Rokhl of blessed memory		Reb Meyshe may God avenge his blood

Such a sort was the penultimate head of the Jewish Council Reb Meyshe Tenenboym.

In the era between the two World Wars, he interrupted his positions at the center of Goworowo community life as president or parnas of the Jewish Council and was the cofounder of all the Jewish establishments and institutions in the town.

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Reb Meyshe Tenenboym possessed a great deal of personal charm, which helped him to have an impressionable effect on people, and thanks to that he had the necessary influence on the Goworowo residents, both Jews and gentiles. By his nature alone – a goodhearted and affable man – he created a lot of friends and followers in town who stood by his side to help in each community activity. He never used his high position to impose his will on anyone, but used well-chosen words to try to persuade one and it always came out his way.

Reb Meyshe Tenenboym made his living from a wine bar and inn that he kept in his large two-story house on the market square, an inheritance from his parents Yehoshe and Hinde. With that business he worked up to a wealthy, comfortable position. But he neglected that business because of his community work and later became a bit impoverished. But no one noticed that about him. He was always smiling and with a good word on his lips.

Reb Meyshe Tenenboym was born in Goworowo in the late 1880s. He married in 1910, to Rokhl the daughter of Khone Alter and Frume Kosovski. He had two children with Rokhl: Khane, today in America, and Yehoshe who died tragically young in 1935. After the death of his wife Rokhl in 1920, Reb Meyshe married again, to Sheyne Hene Kremer, from Mishenits, who bore him the children Borekh Leyb, Shleyme and Yisrolik.

Yehoshe of blessed memory		Reb Meyshe with his three sons

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A picture of Reb Meyshe Tenenboym and Rokhl's wedding, with their families and guests. 1910

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With awe and reverence, I light a memorial candle for the soul and memory of my father, teacher and rabbi, the late Reb Menashe, the son of Reb Mayer Holtsman.

He was a worthy Jew, honest and kind in heart, a hasid, humble and pleasant in his ways and kind to all, a seeker of peace and involved with those around him. My late father acquired most of these virtues from his father, Reb Mayer, a rich and generous timber merchant, who was also well-known for his learning and honesty, his modesty and his great virtues.

My late father was born in the year 5634. He received his education in the kheyder and in yeshives, and at the same time did not neglect a general education; he learned the languages of the country – Polish and Russian – as well as bookkeeping.

Even in his youth, my father was gifted with a pleasant voice, knew the prayers and led services, was well versed in hasidic melodies and poetry. He followed the rebis of Vurke, and often chanted at the “study tables” of Rebi of Skernievts, whom he respected and liked very much.

When my father once sang the song “Shir Ha'malos” at the Rebi's table when he was an eighteen-year-old boy, he was heard by an old hasidic man, Reb Dov Pizman, the uncle of Rov Yankev Shleyme Pizman, Jewish judge and arbiter in Ostrolenke. He was fascinated by my father's personality, by his singing and by the Rebi's affection for him, and he chose him as a son-in-law for his daughter Sarah, who is my late mother of blessed memory.

The grandfather, Reb Dov Pizman, was only privileged to participate in the joy of my parents' engagement, as immediately after the engagements he became ill with an illness from which he never recovered. Before his death, he said to his family: “I leave you in trusted hands, in the hands of my son-in-law Menashe, although he is not married yet”.

In 5652, my father moved to Goworowo, and opened a trading house for groceries, notions, oils, paints and chemical products. My father managed his trade with honesty and justice and immediately won the hearts of the owners of the estates in the area. They became his constant customers and heeded his advice. Among the customers were the nobleman Glinka from Shetsvin, Roshtsishevsky from Tsirna, Mrakbitsky from Bryzhna, Zemzhitski from Ponikba, all the local police and government officials. In a short time, my father managed to be very successful in his business and became rich.

However, my father did not only invest his efforts in trade. He also gave his share in civic affairs. He was chosen as the community leader immediately after the establishment of the independent state of Poland. He excelled as a peacemaker between rivals. Through his efforts, neighbors were reconciled and people in dispute compromised; he made peace between a man and his wife, between ritual slaughterers and butchers, and especially became famous as a lobbyist with the government authorities. With his pleasant manners and his gentleness of speech, he knew how to persuade the people in power, and whenever there was trouble for the individual or the public, he worked to cancel decrees and lighten the sentence. From the reign of Tsar Nikolay, until the outbreak of the war, he did not stop speaking well of his people before the police chiefs: the Russian Kolan Movits; the Germans Knut, Molsklaski and Knoblich, during the first [German] occupation in 1918; and the Poles Laskovski, Grushka and Nikel. Many of them already had the custom of visiting my father on Saturday evenings and tasting the “gefilte fish”. When they were about to recruit young Torah scholars for the army, my father made the acquaintance of the district doctors

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The late Reb Menashe Holtsman

At my sister Yetta's wedding, the chief priest of the town sent a special messenger with a congratulatory letter, to honor the honest and decent “Strozkunni Pan Manash”.

Once a Christian woman accused my father of selling cigarettes without duty and excise tax. This evil woman hired false witnesses, and her whole intention was to deny my father the government license in order to win it for herself. The priest invited the secretary of the district court, from whom he learned the names of the witnesses. He called on them and influenced them not to testify falsely. The case of the prosecution was worthless, and my father won the case.

My father always prayed in the house of the hasidim of Vurke. There he led the prayers on Shabes, on Rosh Khodesh, and for the holiday musaf. Once it happened that in the Great Synagogue the leader of the morning service of the Days of Awe became ill; the rabbi and the community begged my father to fill his place in the shakhris prayers. Since then, he always prayed the shakhris service on the Days of Awe in the Great Synagogue in the Ashkenazi style, in addition to a musaf and the “Kol Nidrey”, which he prayed in the house of the hasidim.

When I immigrated to Israel in the year 5693, my father gave me a letter to the Rov of Bnei Brak, the son of the Rebi Rov Shimole Kalish of Skierniewice, in which he expressed his heart's desire to be privileged to immigrate to Israel and live in the Rebi's vicinity, so that he could enjoy his brilliance and be one of the guests at his table.

My father was not privileged to fulfill his heart's desire. He passed away abroad, in the steppes of Russia, on the eve of Rosh Khodesh Sivan, 5702.

May these words of mine serve as a candle to the holy memory of my late father.

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Reb Avrom and Ester Shafran may God avenge their blood

When Avrom was about 18 years old, Reb Yankev Shabsay from Goworowo took him as a son-in-law, for his 17-year-old daughter Ester. When he was taken to an examination in his knowledge, the examiner said that Avrom knew more than he did.

Reb Yankl Shabsay was a wealthy Jew, and he tried to buy up fine sons-in-law. He himself was a big “Enlightener”. People said that when Reb Yankl Shabsay considered a future son-in-law who was a slim and refined young man, he would ask him: “How will those skinny

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fingers of yours be able to make a living?” His wife Khaye Sore – who was a real saint – would answer: “Him for sure, with those refined fingers, he is the one I want for a son-in-law for my daughter Ester Yakhne…plus a large dowry, three or four years living with us for free on kest, a Vilner Talmud, and the big Lemberg Shulkhan Orekh. And before he comes for the wedding, he must buy an expensive shtreyml for Shabes and holidays.”

For those years living with the in-laws, he sat in the Goworowo study-house and learned. In those years the study house was literally a big yeshive. Young men from all the bigger towns in the area came to Goworowo to learn. Although Avrom was a scholar he was not considering any rabbinical post. “Too great a responsibility”, he would say. When the Goworowo Rov was not in his home, the women generally came to Avrom with their questions.

After the years of kest he turned to trade and was successful. His businesses kept getting better, until he became a big merchant and a rich man. His honesty was well-known. Despite the fact that he was always busy with trade, he still sat every day and studied. He was the prayer-leader in the Vurke shtibl, Torah reader and in later years also studied the “page of the day” with the congregation.

He did not want to mix in the matters of the Jewish community. In the last election for the Jewish Council (in 1937) a delegation came to him for Agudas Yisroel, beseeching him to allow them to add his name to their slate of candidates. After much effort, they managed to make him agree. He was elected and for the first time became a council member, taking the office of treasurer. Everyone was happy with him because of his objectivity and honesty.

Reb Avrom, along with his wife and their sons Meyshe and Dovid were murdered in the slaughter of Slonim, probably on the 24^th of Kheshvan, sav-shin”beys, which is the day the children observe the yortsayt. Their son Simkhe Bunem with his wife Devore'le and child were shot in Kosov-Latski. May God avenge their blood.

[From right] Bunem, his wife Devore'le, Meyshe and Dovid Shafran may God avenge their blood

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Reb Yaakov Dov Blumstein of blessed memory

The rest of the four generations, whose bones were buried in the cemetery of the town, was interrupted as well. Our Polish neighbors craved the fertile land on which the cemetery was located, so they climbed onto it with a tractor, turned and plowed the land and sowed grain seeds to feed and satisfy their bodies from the bones of our loved one.

Tears are flowing from my eyes for the tragedy that happened to my people and my family.

The figures of my parents are always in my mind. I see my late father, tall, upright in stature, shining face, radiating energy and courage, and a restrained smile on his lips. I see my late mother, modest, quiet, managing her spacious home with humility and nobility, and seeing everything with her vigilant and clever eyes.

My mother's father was a great scholar with lofty idealism. He belonged to the “Tiktiner of noble birth” movement, who studied Torah day and night, in order to bring about the Messianic era. He passed away at a young age, when his daughter, that is my mother, was only six months old. When she grew up and reached

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Reb Zelig Papirtsik

My father was the chosen groom, and although he was not promised a dowry, he agreed to the match because of the nobility and beauty of the bride. When they got married, the children did not live long life. Rabbi Nakhum'ke of Bialystok advised asking for forgiveness from the deceased. And so, one night after midnight, my father went out with a minyen of Jews to the cemetery, prostrated himself on the grave of the deceased and asked for forgiveness. Since then, the bad luck passed and my father was privileged to have a generation of blessed righteous sons, who follow his ways, the way of Torah and mitsve. After a few years my father was able to establish commercial ties on a wide scale with Polish nobles who owned estates in the area, through which he came to great wealth. Thanks to his loyalty and honesty, the owners of the estates trusted him with all their hearts and he became both their personal and economic advisor. His livelihood was not easy at all. Etched in my memory is that dark winter night. It was already midnight and father had not returned from his trip to the Polish estate owner. The roads during this period were disturbed by bandits and wild animals, and he was alone in his tiny sled in a dense forest. Mother was anxious and she looked out the window every moment. And here the sound of the ringing bells was heard. Father came back completely frosted, and he reassured us: “Here is the gun I received from Kolomiec, the police chief, there is no reason to fear”. However, with this he whispered a secret to mother: “I must risk myself – I have to manage a large house, educate sons, give charity to the poor – the blessed God will help me” …

My father was a very charitable person, and my mother also fulfilled that mitsve. “She opened her arms to the poor and extended her hands to the needy”. In honor of every Shabes, she would send me with Shabes dishes to bring to the homes of the poor. I remember the desolate poverty I saw in many homes, and how they were happy to see my mother's gift that was presented to them in a modest and humble way.

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Reb Yekhiel Mayer and Leye Blumshteyn of blessed memory

The older daughter, my sister Esther, married a Torah scholar from a famous family in Israel. He is Reb Berish, the son of Reb Fayvl Tunkenlang of Warsaw, the grandson of Rabbi Motele, a teacher in the capital city of Poland, and the brother-in-law of the Rebi of Alexander and the Rebbe of Yablonka. The wedding took place in Goworowo and it was magnificent. All the nobles of the area gave their carriages to bring the many guests who came to the feast. The beautiful bride wore a sapphire and diamond necklace and an expensive silk dress, and everything was fit for a king.

My brother-in-law Reb Berish was a scholar and a hasid, and he was supported by my father for ten consecutive years. After that he moved to the city of Warsaw. In his book, the late Rov Mordkhe Bronrot, the head of Tel Aviv judicial system, gives a faithful overview of this distinguished family.

My sister Esther's eldest son was named after his grandfather Reb Motele. He was a tall and handsome man. He had three sons. The eldest son was raised and educated for a long time by my father. The second son Yerakhmiel was one of the Warsaw Ghetto fighters and died a heroic death fighting the war of his people with the German soldiers. My sister Esther herself died of starvation in the ghetto.

My second sister Hanna also married a groom from Warsaw, Reb Zelig Papirtsik, a hasid and a Torah scholar from a privileged family. He also received a large dowry and food. He invested many years in the Torah and the work. We, the little children at home, fell asleep and always woke up to the sound of his Torah and his pleasant voice while he was studying the Gemora. My father housed him and his family in a luxurious apartment in his apartment building in the city center.

My brother, Reb Yekhiel Mayer Blumshteyn, suffered a lot during his short life. He was born during the great fire of the town. All the houses in the town went up in flames, and my father moved my mother and the newborn baby to a farmer's house in a nearby village. On the first Shabes night there was no minyan to make “shalom v'yisker”, and my father regretted it very much. During the First World War,

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Reb Gershon and Dvore Blumshteyn may God avenge their blood

At the end of the First World War there were fluctuations in the Jewish youth. The Socialist and Zionist movements and the revolution in Russia greatly influenced the youth to divert them from the paved and occupied path, while my brother Yekhiel Mayer remained firm in his position: loyal to the Torah, the religion and the sanctities of the people.

He married his wife Leye, a modest and kind-hearted woman from Ostrolenke, and opened a trading house for leather and supplies for shoemakers. He had five sons and a daughter. He invested efforts in educating his children in the way of Torah and mitsves. When the boys grew up, he sent them to yeshives and generously provided them all their needs.

My brother Yekhiel Meir reciprocated kindness to people, greeted everyone and gave charity beyond his means. When the town was occupied by the Germans, he fled to Russia, and after the war he emigrated to America and died there. May his soul be bound up in the bond of everlasting life.

My brother Gershon Blumshteyn may God avenge his blood, fought the war of truth all his life. For every injustice which was done to someone that he knew about, he reacted in acute form, without hesitation and without bias. All his days, he stood by the weak and fought his war and even endangered his life. When, in his youth, Polish boys attacked Jewish boys, he launched a counterattack.

He married Dvore, the daughter of the Rov of Tshervin, a wonderful and innocent man; his daughter was also modest in her manners, and meticulous in mitsves.

I remember that last night of the destruction of Goworowo. My brother Gershon clearly showed his bravery and his kindness when he risked his life to save the sick and the children of Israel. It was after a day of enemy aerial bombing. Many people gathered to find shelter in the house of his neighbor Reb A. Y. Galant. Suddenly wounded soldiers appeared from the front and announced that the enemy was about to flee the town. There was a great commotion and panic. A horse and cart were worth a lot of gold. Everyone wanted to run as fast as possible. My brother Gershon harnessed his cart and loaded it with sick people and children, without taking anything from his possessions. And so, he set out to save souls, abandoning all his possessions.

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Reb Mayer Vulf Tehililm was descended from the Vurke Rebi Rov Itsikl, and traveled to the Amshinov Rebi of the Vurke line. He did truly love the Jews of Vurke, but in his temperament and acuity he surpassed even Ger and Kotsk.

Reb Mayer Vulf was a wholesale dealer on a large scale, a big risk-taker in trade. He would buy a lot of wagons-full of coal, kerosene, cement, mortar and so on. Mostly his dealing was successful, he made a good living and became rich; but more than once it happened that he lost money on a transaction and had to take out another interest-free loan. But he was never defeated by that, always cheerful, went on making big deals and got back on his feet. People never knew when he earned and when he lost.

As for community matters, especially for the charities like the fund for poor brides, help

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for a pauper , he was always ready to work with all his strength. It was at his initiative and assistance that the “Tseirey Agudas Yisroel” renewed the activity of the “Lines ha'tsedik”, of acquiring a lot of medical equipment which they lent out to poor, sick Jews.

He gave charity with an open hand. He usually donated more than another person in the same position. During the rush of the Fourth aliye, he was the first to buy land in Erets Yisroel, through “Agudas Yisroel” and sent his elder son Yitskhak Dovid there. He had a big failure there, lost a lot of money, and his son had to return, but his love for Erets Yisroel was not diminished. With the blossoming of the agricultural pioneer movement, he was the first to invite Agudas Yisroel to open a training station in his cement factory in Pasheki.

Reb Mayer Vulf was an observant hasid, preserving Jewishness in every detail. Most recently he was praying with the ”Tseirey gudas Yisroel”minyen. On Simkhes Torah he tended to make the priestly blessing in the morning prayers because of the tumult that dominated the afternoon service. The circuits of dancing with the Torah scrolls went on so long in that service, and the praying went so late, to about four o'clock. They could not prevail on him, though, to make a kidush sooner. Only when people had finished musaf did he make kidush. Very characteristic was his conduct was his remark about the quote “Tov met b'kavone, m'haraba sh'lo b'kavone”, which simply means that one must do something, but with intent, or do a lot – without intent; but he used to say just the opposite: One must do a lot, even without kavone, because, a lot without kavone still produces a little kavone.

Reb Mayer Vulf was a short Jew, with no special indications of strength, but he had a voice, literally the voice of a lion, which could be heard from afar. I was once witness in the study-house when Reb Mayer Vulf shouted loudly, complaining about justice in some particular matter. The alarm was his last weapon when someone refused to agree with him.

People say that during the last World War, Reb Mayer Vulf wandered over to White Russia, it seems, not far from the train station in Minsk. When the Russians deported the “bezshenikes” to Siberia and other places, the transport trains went through White Russia, and sometimes stopped at the train station where Reb Mayer Vulf lived. He would often come out to the trains and search for familiar faces, and relatives. When he found a Goworower, he tried to approach and offer some help. The N.K.V.D. guards did not allow this however. So he would stand at a distance and feel pity for those from his town whom the Russians were persecuting. But the fates were otherwise. Many of the deportees survived the war while he and part of his family were murdered. May God avenge their blood!

[Page 239]

Reb Khayim Ber, his wife Brayne, and his daughters: Rokhl and Brokhe may God avenge their blood, and Menukhe may she live long life (on the left)

I remember the holidays at home. Feelings of joy and elation were on my parents' faces and a festive atmosphere filled the house. In the Days of Awe, Father served as a shofar blower in the great synagogue that was next to our house. He prepared himself with great respect for the exalted role of a public messenger before the Creator. On Purim, the neighbors used to gather at our house, and my father read aloud in front of them from the scroll with his pleasant voice and captivating emphasis.

It still echoes in my ears, the sound of the Talmud that my father read aloud while he was sitting and studying in any free time whether it was day or night.

My father was a working man and struggled hard to support his family with dignity. However, he was always calm and cheerful, and a warm smile never left his lips. He was full of hope and faith in a better future. He was a good and benevolent man to the people and his family, and loved by all, children, adults and elderly, regardless their religious opinion.

My mother was a woman of valor, she inspired her daughters and her family with her spirit. She also worked hard as a housewife, educating the girls, and even assisted my father in his efforts to provide livelihood.

When the two girls immigrated to Israel, mother did not rest and was not quiet until she used all her efforts and connections so that the girls would not be missing a thing in their first steps in Israel.

I see in my mind my kind and dear sisters, young women full of life and joy, who had only just begun to taste the tree of life, and here they were murdered in their youth by bloodthirsty murderers.

It is hard for me to come to terms with the bitter and passing idea that I will no longer see my loved ones, my family members, who perished in such a tragic way. May these lines serve as a memorial light for their souls.

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