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The house of Anchel Kontziak, director of the Hebrew school in our town, was rooted in religious–nationalistic traditions. His children–talented and smart, were raised in the spirit of their father–served with all their skills to improve the conditions for the Jewish youth in our city. Kontziak's children learned Hebrew and were involved in all the youth organizations of Makow.

Shoshanna, the daughter of Anchel Kontziak was a beautiful girl with a delicate pale–rose complexion and a head full of black hair with piercing black eyes.

In 1918, when Meir Kantziak of Mlawa founded the “HaShomer HaTzair” in our town, Shoshanna immersed herself in this movement and was elected “Head Kibbutz Leader” and later secretary of “HaShomer HaTzair”.

Despite her involvement, she continued her studies, completed her teachers' course and excelled in her grades. She was invited by the “Tarbut–Central” in Warsaw to work as a teacher in their Hebrew school system (which was then founded in Poland).

But Shoshanna didn't want to leave her home town and the youth of “HaShomer HaTzair”, which respected and admired her. Shoshanna decided to remain in Makow and work in her father's school. She was a good teacher and educator. In addition, she had a beautiful voice and also a talent for singing. Her Hebrew and childrens' songs, which she learned at school and at the “HaShomer HaTzair” gatherings, were so popular in our town. Having artistic talents, she often performed at our Zionist evenings that took place in Makow.

In 1935, she, together with her husband, arrived in Ramat–Gan. She came to visit me in my home. Her husband was a native of the Land, whom she met and married in Poland.

Likable, happy and good humored–how fortunate for her dream to come to the Land of Israel. She told me of her plans to bring the rest of her family, who were still in Poland.

Her unpredicted death disrupted all her plans. She was torn away from us, still in her youth, after giving birth to her first child.

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This sad death affected the emigre community of Makow in the Land of Israel.

May these few lines serve as a heartful memory–for her daughter she left behind and who never got the chance to meet her. Shoshana, one of our best daughters of the nation of Israel, from the kehillah of Makow–Mazowiecki.

Honor her memory!

Program from the play “Chasia the Orphan” performed by the drama circle in Makow, 1917

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Yahushua Makover of Blessed Memory The first secretary of the Organization of Maków descendants in Israel

He was born to a family of laborers, grew up and was educated on the ideals of work, early in his life he joined the Working Youth of the Land–of–Israel.

At that time the youngsters in our city were agitated and all their organizations were swept away in the upheavals that took place. Some went to the right, others to the left – and not always in line with the origins of their status. Maków was one of the cities in which the youth was organized and aware, these were the years 1925–1926 and the young men and women roamed around with nothing to do, no profession and no future. They began their soul searching and the question was: Where to?

This question haunted them until some found their way to the land of America or to west–European countries but the majority of the youth were part of the Zionist movements and went to training camps, preparing to make Aliya.

The movement grew and developed despite the many years this youth had to wait without being able to make Aliya due to the hostile policy of the British Mandate. But slowly, step by step, we overcame

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all the obstacles with deep motivation and in every possible way, and quite a few of our city's youngsters made Aliya.

Yehoshua was one of them. Due to his constant activity in the movement he was granted an Aliya certificate from the Halutz, although he did not do a training – something that was unprecedented back then.

Yehoshua was born to be a public activist, and from a young age managed, with great talent, the library of the JNF [Jewish National Fund] in our city, which was his “temple”. He invested there all his strength and energy. He arrived at his evening shift, every evening, at the library which was situated in Mr. Plato's house. He had an outstanding memory, knew by heart the names of all the books and knew all the readers, and who read what. He was as well the secretary of the Fund of Land–of–Israel Workers in our city – one of the prominent Zionist's endeavors in Poland, which aim was to financially assist the Land–of–Israel workers. He was also the secretary of the Halutz and of “Freiheit” that were established back then and Yahushua was one of their founders.

He was among the first valuable activists in every Zionist endeavor, his great capability and his brilliant talent helped him with everything he tackled. He was as good as his word.

His Aliya and absorption in Israel deserve a chapter apart. It was not easy to find work in these days and the question was: what profession should he choose for himself? By nature, he despised easy and comfortable work. He wanted to be a real laborer and make a living with his sweat. He chose construction. His life was not easy but he was happy and proud of his work. His gifts and his strong will helped him to become in a short time one of the best professionals in construction and he was promoted to be a foreman. He insisted on accuracy and discipline and his bosses, like his co–workers, appreciated and respected him.

Since he was dedicated to his work body and soul, he found lots of satisfaction and did not notice that his health was deteriorating. All the efforts his family and friends made to help him find an easier job were to no avail until the bitter day arrived when he fell ill and never got up again.

Remembered are the days when he managed the secretariat of Maków descendants. His heart ached when he was hardly able to help his city's people when they arrived in Israel after the Holocaust because there was no money.

He was witty and clear minded. He insisted on his principals and although we did not always accept his views about matters of the world and in Israel, we respected him and tried to understand him.

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He consecrated all his free time to reading, there was always a good book in his hands throughout all his years in Israel. He was a devoted and generous friend who was always willing to help. He was as well an exemplary father and husband.

The heart breaks because he was unable to see the future of his children, who are good and excelling students. It is painful to come to terms with the awful thought that he is no longer with us. His heart stopped forever. His dear family and his many friends and all Maków citizens lost a gentle and cherished man.

We will never forget him.

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My friends in Israel reproached me: could you explain, Reb Leyzer Shoykhet was a well known personality in the old home, so why don't you write about him so people could read remember and know who he was?

Despite the fact that I am against children profiting from the name of their famous fathers, I agreed: these personalities in general, and particularly from Makow belong to everyone and we must write in order to be irradiated with their light for future generations.

Reb Eliezer was a ritual slaughterer, performed circumcisions, led Torah services, belonged to the Burial Society, headed the Society to Provide Clothing to the Poor, was an arbitrator and a peace – maker. Always ready to serve others. If you needed, he would even protect you from evil. If someone asked for help, Reb Leyzer Shoykhet was the first to arrive. He would already have his religious books and notes to lay under the patient's head, which helped to bring about true salvation…

I remember: someone once told my father they saw me skating on the river on a Saturday afternoon, which was the custom on winter days, he was furious. I remember the beating I received. “What does this mean” shouted my father, “God forbid, desecrating the Sabbath and

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not studying, standing by the river and watching spoiled children? A transgression, a great transgression”.

Or, when Shmuel Yosef Rozental, the rabbinic judge, would give a class at the Yeshiva where I studied, and then, Heaven forbid, told my father that I was not learning diligently, I did not only receive a beating but reprimanded me without stop. I must add that his helped.

What Jew served God more than Reb Leyzer Shoykhet, and not out of fear, but out of love? He loved to pray and perform good deeds. He found great satisfaction in this for himself and God. It could be said that Reb Leyzer Shoykeht did not have an “I”. His greatest desire was to improve the situation of the poor and help anyone who stretched out a hand. He was also a member of the Burial Society. This meant: purifying the corpse, accompanying the deceased to his grave. He was also the town's leader of prayers, a position he held for 60 years. Who doesn't remember his heart rending praying? As if a heavy mountain was on his shoulders. This was how he felt leading services. He understood he had to ask, cry and persuade God to grant a healthy year for all those praying. I can still hear his chanting in my ears until today. It broke your heart, everyone cried.

Reb Leyser Shoykhet had his own choir, his four sons and Zalmen Podel who played the bass with Shloime the musician.

Reb Leyzer Shoykhet's personal friends were: Moishe Yosef Garfinkel (the baker), Shmuel Yosef Rozental (the rabbinic judge), and all the Talmud teachers who we studied with.

His sons: Khaim Shoykhet of blessed memory, a pious Jew, a ritual slaughterer and performed circumcisions;

Yehoshua Rozenman of blessed memory, a ritual slaughterer, a pious Jew, God fearing and a scholar;

Yisroel Yosef Rozenman of blessed memory, a ritual slaughterer, former secretary of the Ritual Slaughterers Society in New Your;

Yekhiel Rozenman of blessed memory, a businessman;

Dovid Rozenman of blessed memory killed with his family in the flames of Hitler's hell;

Yehuda Rozenman, the writer of these lines, and two sisters: Feyge – Soreh, married to Moishe – Zelik, the son of Yekhiel form Makow; and Nekhame, also married both live in New York.

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From the depth of the past, we conjure the noble image of our father, with a big beard, large forehead and eyes radiating wisdom. I can especially recall a long December night, when the whole family was at the table and our father, of blessed memory, told us the story of his life and how and under which circumstances his personality was forged.

Our late father was born in 1878 in the city Różan on the river Narew in Łomża County. When he was two years old, he lost his father, so his mother, who was disabled, had to make a living by teaching. She taught the city's girls prayers and writing in Russian. Everybody called her “Sara Gittel the Educated” and indeed according to standards back then she was educated, she was familiar with Chumash and Rashi, and knew by heart all the chapters of the book of Psalms.

The Melameds discovered unusual gifts in our father. He surprised all since his childhood with his sharp mind. He had a thirst for knowledge from a tender age. He did not settle just for sacred studies and began learning secretly the state's language. He was once “caught” by two Yeshiva students. At once a rumor spread in town that the youngster had lost his faith and for a while, he was outcast. But society's attitude did not deter him and he went on studying Hebrew and Russian in secret. He felt the place was too confining for him and craved a larger space.

When he turned sixteen, he heard some whispered echoes from Lithuania about an awakening of the Jewish People and the establishment of a Zionist Movement. This rumor made him grow wings. In his mind's eyes he saw a path he could follow. He then decided to leave his city and go to a place where the blossoms of the revival were taking root. But since he had no means he was unable to do so and he was often vacillating between desperation and hope.

When he was enlisted to the army it was a welcome turning point in his life. He gave up his right to avoid serving since he was an only child and luckily for him, he was sent to Kaunas, of which he has been dreaming all his youth. He was intoxicated by the atmosphere there and quickly integrated in the new society and made many new friends. He visited the teacher's Beit Midrash, explored new ways of teaching and was in favor of not discriminating against women who wanted to learn sacred studies.

After serving a year in the army his superiors noticed his talents and he was promoted to feldwebel [field usher]rank.

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Two years went by while he had peace of mind and good financial and social conditions, since he was with his own people. But it did not last and he was transferred to a remote spot, faraway from Jewish settlements. He suffered there and was starving due to the lack of Kosher slaughter. Realizing that he was weakening considerably he traveled to Vilnius to “Chofetz Chaim” (R' Yisrael Meir Kagan) to ask his advice. The Rabbi allowed him to eat non–kosher food but not to suck the bones. Still, despite the Rabbi's permission, our father avoided non–kosher food – till the end of his military service. There was with him during his service another Jew from Maków, Pianka's father, the head of the governmental school, he, too, avoided non–kosher food.

By the end of his military service father came back home a resilient man, rich with life experiences and deep knowledge that helped him reach his goals.

When he was 26 years old, he married the daughter of Eliezer and Etta Albaster, the open–handed family that hosted every Shabbat twenty yeshiva students. Every Thursday evening, they baked, cooked, prepared, labored and worked for these Torah learners – the three daughters: our mother Chaia–Bathya, Tova and the late Zipporah, they, too, married teachers; one was Kalman the famous Sofer ST”M, the brother of Yisrael Stern, the well–known poet and writer. He founded the Shlomai Emunai Israel Association in Maków and was a great scholar, a gifted speaker and was busy day and night writing Torah books and dealing with Jewish ceremonial art.

The other one, the late Mordechai David, of blessed memory, was also a great scholar and highly educated, he was a teacher in the general Cheder. Our grandfather's only son, the late Alter Albaster, was one of the founders of the Zionist Movement in Maków.

Our late father stayed for three years at our grandfather's house. Throughout this time, he was busy writing petitions and appeals to the authorities and served sometimes as a lawyer. Each juridical prosses he undertook was successful. This gave him a good name among the city's dignitaries: Doctor Wielechowski, Hillel Sheinberg, Barenboim, Titonowitz, Austau, Segal, Raychik and others, they all sought his company and invited him to their houses to teach their sons Hebrew. These prominent people also helped him found the improved school and they participated in establishing the Mizrahi Movement in our city.

In the beginning of his teaching career our father encountered a strong objection from the Orthodox. They disliked his educational reforms. He took the child out of the narrow space of the Cheder and placed him in a large classroom on Ziloni Rink Street, with a blackboard, benches etc.' next to a big field that served for physical exercises every morning, before prayer. On Saturday's afternoons he taught them Pirkei Avot and took them on field trips to the forest, straightening their bent backs and planting in their hearts a love for flora and fauna. When they came back from these excursions, he organized them in rows and the sounds of Zion songs spread throughout the entire Jewish neighborhood.

These novelties created a great commotion, the Orthodox laid obstacles before every step our father took. More than once he came back from the synagogue “Amshinover Shtiebel” angry and bitter. They (page 457)

made his life miserable and attacked him mercilessly. They instilled such rancor in their students' hearts that one of them even dared throw a stone at the window of our father's school, for whose survival he fought for so many years.

But his work was not in vain. He harvested many successes; the number of his students increased every year. Students flocked to his school from the neighboring cities like Przasnysz[Praschnitz] and Pultusk and from villages, too, and the school became crowded.

It is difficult to relate our father's joy when Lag B'Omer arrived. He adorned his students with blue–and–white ribbons, put a Magen–David on their hats and gave them Zion flags. Thus, they walked the city's streets – to the forest, with their traditional bows and arrows.

But father was not satisfied until he fully completed his mission. He also opened evening Hebrew classes for girls,

Among the girls who studied there, one, ten years old, excelled with her beautiful voice, she was Yenta Schneiderman, who later became a famous singer. Father loved singing and sang well reading music notes. He organized a mixed choir of girls and boys “Lithuania Style”. When they found out, the orthodox raised hell and when he came to pray at the “Shtiebel” on Shabbat they showered him with curses and accusations, who knows what could have happened if Moshe–Yosef Garfinkel (the righteous) did not calm them down.

A few years later the “Aguda[h]”(a political movement of Orthodox Jewry) people followed our father's footsteps, they founded a general school under the management of Volvol Finezieg and Yakov Klein. Teachers were brought from Bialystok and Vilnius. The Hebrew language, which they rejected previously, now had an important place in their curriculum. The contentions with father dissipated and they now had a peace pact. The teachers from their school, David Levin and Portnoy, were father's best friends and frequent guests in our home.

When the general Cheder was established father saw it as trespassing on one side and as the fulfilling of his life's dream on the other. He was tremendously happy when he saw the Hebrew language conquering one barrier after an other and spreading to all the social classes. Finally, he decided that it was time to let other places enjoy the national Hebrew education. He traveled to Różan, his birthplace, and founded there a school as well as a branch in Goworowo. And so, he had one success after another preparing himself and his students for the sacred mission of making Aliya. He perceived teaching Hebrew as the first stage of redemption and hence, the coming of the Messiah. He lit this fire in everyone who approached him and he bequeathed this enthusiasm to his sons and the generation he educated.

His personality combined three titles: Rabbi, Teacher and Melamed.

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My late father's image conjures Maków landscape. The paths his feet trod, the river where he bathed or where he caught fish with his fishhook, the forest where he walked its length and width at dawn in all seasons of the year.

He loved nature, the sight of nature, the changes and transformations were an inspiration for him and lifted his spirits. He was a part of the Maków landscape and when he was in Mother Nature's arms, he completely immersed himself, his happiness and awe were whole.

When he saw a group of the Hashomer Hazair camped on one of the mountains, his face filled with light, when he heard the Hebrew language sounds from his trainees, he welcomed them with a big smile and a hearty Shalom greeting.

The unforgettable Alta Hendel, who was one of his best students, served as a group's head and delegated her superb qualities to hundreds of her trainees.

And here comes to memory the Maków “Shtiebel” where he prayed at dawn with his orthodox opponents, who in the evenings became his friends because the Talmud page brought them close together and when they were discussing a Talmud question their contention was forgotten. Here is Poperztchna Street, paralleled to Parazsnish Street, where our shack stood. From the outside it looked as if it was crumbling but inside it was a fortress of Torah and a meeting place for the wise. The teachers of “Yavne” School – the principal Rosenblum, Portnoy and David Levin found in our home a warm haven since for a whole year they were far from their homes and because of their meager salary were unable to be with their families. They led vivid discussions till midnight, joined by the uncles Kalman Stern, the Sofer ST”M and Mordechai David, the educated scholar. The discussions were peppered with sages' sayings, verses from the Zohar and more. They spoke also about worlds' topics and argued about politics. The lively conversation created a pleasant ambiance in the house.

We can still see before us the Shabbat in our house with all its glory and sacredness. We were at the table, light illuminating us all. Father of blessed memory, began as always with Shabbat's songs and ended with Zion songs – “With my Plow”, “In the Middle of the Road”, “El Hazipor” and others, with his “choir” of course. Our sister Rachel, of blessed memory, who sang well, was the first voice. Moshe and Yehuda – second voices.

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The singing grew stronger, burst outside and echoed in the air. People from all corners of the city crowded next to the windows and doors. The sounds of Zion songs penetrated their bones and filled their hearts with overpowering longings to Zion…

Our father was a trove of spiritual and practical capacities. In the attic of our house, he had carpenters' tools and frames – a real workshop where he was trained in all handicrafts, he made doors and windows for our house as well as a construction plan according to all engineering regulations and the municipality approved this plan. There is no knowing what our father could have achieved with his gifts, if only he was able to…

Late at night. The small town of Makow is asleep. The small wooden houses on Czechonover Street, painted white, lights up the darkness. From the rocky bank the steps of a passerby can be heard. Only from one wooden house, a light appears through the window. This is the last house on Czechonover Street. This is where the “Cheder Metukan” of the Hebrew teacher R'Anschel Kotziak is located.

When the late passerby looks inside the room of the “Cheder”, he sees, the teacher, R'Anschel, standing and writing with chalk small, clear, important words on the blackboard–a lesson for his students for the next day.

It is almost morning. It is the Yarzheit [memorial of a death] of Dr. Binjamin Zeev Herzl, of blessed memory, and R'Anschel wants to tell his students of the “Cheder Metukan” [this was a Hebrew school, but in the small Hasidic shtetl, Makow, it was easier to use the name “Cheder Metukan”] about the “great Zionist leader”, who lit up like a star the Dark Sky of Exile”.

R'Anschel creases his forehead, he wants to share as much information about this important leader and about the great values of Zion, but the blackboard is too small. There he writes small, clear letters, in order to squeeze in one more lesson [to plant into the hearts of his students].

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When he finished writing and washing his hands, he remembered, that he hadn't prayed his Maariv prayers today, so he sits down and silently whispers: ”and to Jerusalem…”.

Oy, Jerusalem, Jerusalem! How the Land of his fathers is beckoning!

R'Anschel goes to his dresser, takes out a thick book with papers and documents and rereads the letter from the Palestine–Office in Warsaw. The date: 1920. They acknowledge, due to the situation now in Eretz–Israel, the consideration[request] for his Aliyah and for his three sons. His wife and daughters, for the time being must remain in Poland. He deliberates with much anxiety, Aliyah is not possible as an entire family. So he remains for the time being in Makow, on the river Orzyc and continues to teach Jewish children Hebrew, Tanach, while planting the love for Eretz–Israel.

From the direction of Sloninover Way [tiny street], a crowing hen is heard, he then creeps silently into his house located in a neighbouring building–to rest after a hard day.

The life of R'Anschul Kotziak was not easy when he arrived in 1917 from Warsaw to Makow.

It was the time of the German occupation, of the First World War. In Warsaw there was a shortage of food, when the Makower landowner, R' Aba Berenboim, became aquainted with the teacher, he invited him to open a “Cheder Metukan” in Makow. The latter agreed.

R'Anschul came from Lithuania, studied at the Volozhin Yeshiva, wrote Hebrew songs and dreamed of studying philosophy. Instead, he arrived in the small Hasidic shtetl Makow. The trip from Warsaw to Makow was in a large carriage, which stopped in many muddy Polish towns. He arrived at the wood bridge, which brought him into the shtetl, then travelling across the large market square with the small–town houses and some ruins left over from the last war. R' Aba Berenboim received him graciously and the next morning, he met with other landowners of the city, who were interested in the “Cheder Metukan”: Rekant, Sheinberg, Hendel, Montchkovsky and others.

Shortly afterwards, they rented a dwelling in a wooden house next to the river Ozycz. R'Anschel opened his “Cheder Metukan” and brought his family from Warsaw.

Spring. The fields are blooming. The sun is shining. It seems, that the largest part

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of the sun–rays swallow the sober–water of the Ozycz. The students–Chaim Berenboim, Moishe Sheinberg, Yankel Sobel, Eliezer Montchkovsky, Schmulik Kleinhoiz, Chaim Hendel, Yankel Goldstein, Avrahamel Riback and others run to the river. Also R' Anschul's young sons–Yerachmiel and Menachem–Mendele are among them.

They are running barefoot in the water and are trying to catch the small fish that swim in the river. Then they run over the ruins of the former houses, to play hide and seek. The bell now rings. R' Anschel doesn't allow his students to linger–we must resume the Torah and other work.

Lag B'Omer, 1918, all the Jewish Cheders participate in the march to the Makower forest to celebrate. Jewish children with blue–white banners go through the streets, singing Jewish songs and also the song of S.L. Gordon “the honeysuckle, the honeysuckle is a bow and arrow”.

R'Anschul organized the first children's' Hebrew library in his “Cheder–Metukan. It was the first time these children went into a Hebrew library”. He also emphasized speaking Hebrew in the street[in everday life]. The landowners wondered, how did these youngsters speak Hebrew so fluently?

The largest part of R'Anschel's students became involved in the Zionist Youth Organizations of Hashomer Hatzair and Halutz. Many made their way to the [Kibbutz] training camps and through them– made Aliyah to Eretz Israel.

Arriving in the Land they knew Hebrew language.

Although R'Anschul was a religious Jew, from “Mizrachi”, he embraced the Zioinist ideology. With love he spoke about the pioneers, who are building the land with their blood and sweat.

R'Anschel was very active in the social life of Makow. His wife, Malka, who was an organizer of “Linat Tzedek”, brought help to the sick and needy with the help of the other women of the shtetl.

The “Cheder Metukan” was a modern school, but in hindsight, when remembering “tuition”, R'Anschul was indifferent. Makow was a poor shtetl and to earn a living was difficult. The parents of R'Anschul's students needed a loan[or to pay in installments]. But R'Anschul never sent a student home. When the money was due at the end of the month

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for the Cheder, that also maintained the teacher and melamdim, the safe was empty. In the thick book, lying in the drawer, the debt grew and the obligations remained. In 1927 when R'Anschul liquidated the Cheder and left Makow, he took the book of debts with him, which were never paid. He was the type of Jew where money was never an issue. He was proud that he instructed a generation of children in the Hebrew language and taught them the love and devotion for Eretz Israel.

In 1927, after working in Makow for 10 years, he returned to live in the birth–town of his wife, Grajewo [Grayewo].

Until the Second World War, he continued with a Hebrew school in Grajewo. In 1939, when the Russian Army arrived, he was a Jew over 65 years, he continued to teach students in Yiddish subjects. When Russia and Nazi–Germany entered the war, Grajewo, on the first day, was invaded by Nazi hordes and the fate of the Grajewo Jews was the same as the fate of all the Jewish communities–a ghetto was created, then the road led to Aushwitz.

R'Anschul Kotziak departed on his last journey with all the Jews of Grajewo, with his son, the teacher Alter Kotziak and family, and his youngest daughter, Ruchl, of blessed memory (his wife Malka died in Grajewo before the war).

May these few lines serve as a tombstone [memorial] for the unknown grave of my teacher R'Anschul Kontziak, of blessed memory, who educated thousands of students to love the Nation of Israel and the Land of Eretz Israel that he himself was never able to achieve, which he spent his entire life striving to achieve.

May his Soul be Bound in the Bond of Eternal Life.

Note: See Grajewo[Grayewo, Grayeve] Yiskor Book, History of the Grajewo Ghetto, see Anshel Kotchak, same person as R'Anschul Kotsiak

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After my grandfathers death he left 5 sons: Yacov–Meir, Sender(my father), Avraham, Eliezer, and Fishl(my husband's father). They inherited a large house on Popzethehne Street. In distributing an inheritance, often, many quarrels broke out between the heirs, which often passed through the courts and caused many years of brothers and sisters not speaking to one another. It was different between the 5 Prezberg brothers, which learned good values in their father's home. Honesty and love for the fellow man. They were devoted one to the other, they helped each other–not just in as friends, also after their weddings.

After sitting Shiva [ritual after a person dies], the brothers came to their grandmother's house, and in one evening , they divided the inheritance. Each were given the same, an apartment in the house, quietly distributed the merchandise in the warehouse, which was in the yard, and no one was upset.

A Lag B'Omer march from the Cheder “Yavneh”, 1932

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One of the brothers sold his inheritance to his nephew [brother's son], and the remaining 4 brothers all lived under one roof, all working in the same business, which was inherited from my grandfather–“stores”. It means, that each one with horse and wagon spent the week travelling from village to village, to noble houses near the city, selling cloth and head–scarves. They all earned the same.

It didn't happen, that one was envious of the other. The opposite, they often bought their cloth together, and were satisfied, each one, that they were able to work together. In the city and its surroundings, the Prezberg brothers were an example of living harmoniously together and with their neighbours– working and living together.

They were good–humored, quiet and religious Jews. Roaming an entire week among Christians, they strictly adhered to their Jewishness. My father carried his talis a0nd tefilim through the villages, together with his cup, bowl, spoon and knife, cooked for himself only dairy and eggs.

For his honesty, the nobility as well as the peasants, trusted and had confidence in him.

In the long winter evenings my father stayed at the peasants' homes, telling them stories from the Tanach and news from around the world. It was a difficult livelihood. Five days a week he went from place to place. He didn't sleep in a bed, our house from Sunday to Thursday had an air of loneliness.

My mother Rivka, a smart woman, who was knowledgeable in praying and reading the “tzainu v rainu”, the passage of the week, told the neighbours: 'it is not a way to live, as a father is not home for his children the entire week”.

In those days, our mother was lonely, cooked our meals and prepared the table, as all the Jews. We waited the entire week and so the children of the Prezberg brothers awaited their fathers every Thursday evening returning from their villages . Every Thursday, after lunch we prepared to greet our fathers. Summertime–we ventured further to greet them. We were overjoyed, when we saw our father's horse and wagon from a distance. Father stopped, embarrassed and kissed us and put us in the wagon, while asking questions about home. In order to speak, he loosened the reins of the horse, knowing the horse could navigate in the right direction.

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Thursday morning the atmosphere at home became livelier. Mother and the aunts arrived from the street with full baskets, cleaned the house, and busied themselves in the kitchen. Put on their Shabbat clothes, and awaited the men, who arrived before evening. It was a Shabbat–holiday atmosphere in the house with their arrival, until their departure Sunday morning.

When I started to read Mendele Mocher Sforim's “The Vinshfingerl”[The Wishing Ring], the story of Shabbos and the week of Moishele's poor father, Shmelik Tandenik, I identified with him, literally his heart–wrenching story was a version of mine. Although my father wasn't a poor man, my father also arrived for the Shabbat, and left after the Shabbat to roam the villages.

The five brothers, like I said, were pious Jews. But not fanatic. They allowed their children to study in a Cheder and a Yeshiva. The girls

A group of Makower Halutzim [pioneers] making Aliyah to Eretz–Israel, 1925

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went to the Polish Folk–Schul[elementary] and in the “Cheder Metukan”. We also had lessons in Hebrew. Moishe–Yehuda Prezberg, son of Eliezer Prezberg, was an active Zionist, speaker and representative of the “Keren Kayemet” in our town, (his sister Sura, and her husband Yechiel Prezberg are now living in Israel).

My father didn't interfere in my youth, I became involved in “Hachalutz Hatzair”, where I became the head of the division. Chaim Goldstein, was a talented fellow, an energetic leader and a charismatic speaker. He perished in Warsaw. The secretary was Yacov–Chaim Sobel–today in New York. Known for his commitment to the landsleit [fellow townsmen] and for the “Welfare of the Makower Society in Israel”.

I will never forget our gatherings– summer in the forest, on the hill, near the Orzyc river. There we read A.D. Gordon's letter from Eretz–Israel, sang Hebrew songs and speaking about Hachara [training] and Aliyah.

Not everyone who went through training–from Hachalutz or from Hashomer Hatzair–had the fortune in those days to receive certificates, in order to make Aliyah. Most of the Jewish youth, and also the Prezberg brothers, by the hands of the Nazis, may their name and memory be erased forever, were tortured, burned and gassed together with the other 6 million Jews.

Blessed shall be their memory!

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Ben–Zion Hendel was born and raised by parents who were Amshinov Hasidim. They were progressive Hasidim and his name testifies to the Zionist inclination in their home. He received a traditional education and studied in Cheder until he was sixteen years old. When the news about the establishment of the “Halutz” in Poland reached Maków, our city, and the information about the possibility of training and making Aliyah, he was one of the firsts who took off his traditional attire and registered to “Halutz”. He was one of the first to engage in this new organization, at a time when our city's youngsters were active in existing organizations: the “Bund” and other Zionist movements. “Halutz” urged the youngsters to shake themselves free of idleness and life of degeneration.

After a short while Ben–Zion left for training, to Klesów which then was the center for training in Poland. He studied carpentry, a profession that did not thrill his parents, but Ben–Zion convinced them that this was a necessary profession for building the new state of Israel.

In 1929, when all of Israel's gates were locked by the British Mandate, he was one of the few who managed to make Aliyah. I remember the evening he said farewell to his “Halutz” friends and dozens of them accompanied him with songs and dances. The joy brought him to tears. When he arrived in Israel it was a time of harsh riots and he was one of the first to enlist for the country's defense. He lived on the other side of the rioters' nest in the Brenner neighborhood. He spent days and nights standing on guard and found work in his profession with Avraham Krinitzi (Ramat–Gan's mayor) who was one of the first employers in this branch. My city citizens who arrived in Israel after him found a welcoming home and a dedicated and loyal friend, willing to help in every way. When there was a resuscitation of work and construction, he moved to Rishon–Lezion, started a family and begun working independently. Ben–Zion loved his profession with all his heart. He was happy and proud and did not complain. He lived a modest life, and in his free time was active in Mapai, the association of the craftsmen and the Maków descendants committee. He was dedicated and willing to make any sacrifice. His home was open to all needy. He was happy with his family life despite the difficult times he had endured. He always had a big smile and used to pat you on the shoulder saying: “Things will get better, mate”.

The news about his death astonished his many friends and fellow citizens. It is hard to believe that we will never again see his unforgettable and vivid personality in meetings and memorials.

May his soul be bound in the bundle of the living.

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In February 1966, I received an invitation from the Polish Academy of Sciences for a two–week lecture tour in Poland. The invitation was also extended to my wife. I had misgivings about going to Poland, the grave of our people. However, this was to be a scientific tour and, after all, the Polish Government is considered by the Israeli Government to be friendly and a number of scientists from Israel have visited Poland. My wife and I decided to accept the invitation. We visited Poland in June, 1966. I delivered a number of lectures at the Universities of Warsaw, Lodz and at an Institute near Cracow. We were given a most friendly reception and covered a great deal of the country in a chauffeur–driven car.

While in Warsaw, I made it clear to my hosts that I would like to meet Jews and I was introduced to a charming Assistant Professor at the University who spoke excellent Yiddish and Hebrew. We went to the Yiddish Theatre to see Scholem Aleichem's “Schadchonim un Menschen”. It was a delightful performance. One felt though as if visiting a museum. The audience used ear–phones for a simultaneous translation into Polish, it was obvious that the younger people did not speak Yiddish. In a Jewish restaurant, most of the dishes were “heimish” but the waiters did not speak Yiddish. There is practically no new Yiddish literature and the management of the Theatre has to rely on the old Yiddish classics only.

The feeling in Warsaw, just as it was during our visit to Makow, was that of unreality. It was heart–rending to see Warsaw and a score of small towns, especially Makow, without the hustle and bustle and the warmth of Jewish life. Our feelings of sadness and of nostalgia were overwhelming, beyond imagination…

The horror and tragedy of Auschwitz which has been turned

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into a Museum of atrocities, cannot be deleted from one's memory. My wife's parents perished there and, I believe, my Dear Mother too and many of our dear Makower Landsleit. We felt it is our duty to visit there and render to their sacred memory our act of solemn devotion, and “there” I said “Kaddish”. Nothing can be forgotten, nothing can be forgiven…

From Warsaw, we went by car via Ppltusk to visit the hometown Makow. I felt compulsively driven to re–visit the town where my childhood memories and the most memories of our town's people are buried. I would have felt lacking in my duty, how painful it was, to be in Poland and not go to Makow, so I went.

My pilgrimage brought me to the “Marek”, the Market Place with a post in its centre carrying a bill with the name and plan of the town.

It is still a “Powiat” town with a population of over 4000 inhabitants. There is not a single Jew living there now.

The Ciechanowska Street, where so many Jewish families lived and traded, has changed appearance and name. Where our house stood, is now an empty lot. Where the “Yatkes” were, there is now a cinema: “Mazowsze”.

Further up, in place of the “Talmud Tora”, where so many of our children were educated according to our ageless tradition of orthodox Judaism, there are now some wooden dwellings. Where stood the Public School, my father's original “Szkola Powszechna”, the centre of so many extramural cultural and social activities, which I remember, one of our visiting lecturers from Warsaw aptly referred to as: “The Makower University”, there are now small shops.

We went across to where the Synagogue, our Shul and the Bet–Midrash were the site of the war–time Ghetto, whence our people were deported to their doom, there is now just an empty lot.

Miraculously, the row of houses near the river Orzyc is now somehow narrow and shallow.

We then turned to the Bazaar across the bridge. The school, which was built before the war on the Bazaar for the Jewish

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children, still stands intact. It houses now a high school. The headmaster occupies, in fact, the same office which my father occupied.

Imagine my feelings when the choir of the school sang for us at the reception held for my wife and me, at which we were introduced to the pupils of the school as important guests of the Polish Academy of Sciences and the Ministry of Chemical Industry; the speaker referring to me as the son of the pre–war headmaster and beloved leader in our town. This was really poetic justice.

On the slope of a hill facing the river Orzyc is a graveyard of some Jews and non–Jews shot or hanged for minor offences by the Nazi. I was told that some survivors of our own Makower Jews who came back to Makow after the war, have transferred the bodies of the Jews from this common grave to the Beis Olem.

The Jewish cemeteries, the old Beis Olem and the new Beis Olem in Makow do not exist anymore; they are completely destroyed – there are now just empty lots. What a shame? …

The hydroelectric station “Turbina” on the river still stands but it is not functioning and the nearby baths, “Laznia” are still in operation. The water pumps in the Market Place “(Rynek)” are now electrically operated. The part of the town where the church is, remains intact, like nothing happened. All the houses are there just as I remembered them and the “Alejki” where we used to take our evening strolls are still there as a witness to the tragic division of our hometown into the Jewish and Christian parts, one of which is practically obliterated and the other still standing intact.

This is how Makow, our hometown, looked now, 23 years after the Holocaust, after the big “Hurban”.

I was under the impression that I have visited a Cemetery, a Graveyard without graves.

Leaving the town, I had the feeling that the Ashes of our “Kedoshim” are still wandering in the air.

I heard an echo with an outcry calling: “Zachor – Tizkor” …“DO NOT FORGET”…

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Monument to the martyrs of Makow in the holy city of Jerusalem

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Let the Nation of Israel remember the holy community of Makow Which was cruelly uprooted, destroyed and annihilated. May they recall their murdered residents, victims of the evil regime, Who were tortured physically and spiritually in the death camps. May they recall all those who were deported to desolate lands, leaving no trace Who were massacred in marketplaces and roads, hauled to their destruction in death wagons Who were buried alive, burned, slaughtered, drowned and strangled Whose honor was violated, and whose blood was spilled, by impure hands, in Sanctification of the Divine Name. May the Nation of Israel remember it's dear children, pure ones, the children of pure ones Who were robbed from their parents' bosom by beasts in human disguise and taken like sheep to slaughter Who were beheaded and murdered, in all manner of unnatural deaths And piled in heaps in the open– Infants and babies who were broken against stone walls, who were tossed down from walls Whose lives were cut off in their infancy by cruel hands. May the Nation of Israel remember the pure children, and the splendor of the worlds And may they not forget the evil and the atrocities As long as they live upon the earth. Blessed be their Memory!

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