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My father – Mr. Yeshayahu Mayer Kotel was a known name in Mizocz and the vicinity. As a well doing and honest businessman whose business dealing were exceeded the town borders and went till the capital city Warsaw and even past the country borders. He was also accepted by the government and was liked and honored not only by Jews but also by the peasants in the vicinity.

The Kotel Family

Despite his many businesses, father was integrated in community work and gave much of his time for community needs. He was the Gabbai in the Shul of the Trisk Chassidim and a great activist in the founding fund. He worried for the traditional and religious education and head of the Trisk Chassidim. The Trisk Rebbe, when he came to our town, he was always hosted by us.

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The biggest and nicest room in our home was given over to him and the whole house became public property for the chassidim. During the days of the Rebbe's stay in Mizocz, became a holiday for the chassidim. Our home what then full of song and joy. The meals continued unabated and Torah and chassidic songs filled the house.

The meal on Shabbat eve, was especially joyful and combined with chassidic dancing with the Rebbe's participation. Father used to take off his shoes, and dance on the tables with white socks till exhaustion. His children went in his ways. We were all raised in a traditional religious spirit and we were connected to the Zionist movement.

With the destruction of Mizocz, our house and our family fate was destructed as too as the fate of all martyrs. Should the memory of my family members be blessed and bound in everlasting life.

My father, R. Aharon (z”l)^[1] was a traditional Jew and he worked from morning till night to provide for his family. My mother, Golda, ailing all her days, had her hands full caring for her six children.

These parents always took care to give their children a good education. They employed the best teachers in town for us, and we lacked for nothing. When the children got older, they helped the parents. The sons helped Papa in the grain trade, and the daughters helped Mama in managing the household. We were a family rooted in Judaism, a dedicated, hard-working, extensive, and productive family; I alone remain, the last and only remnant of that family. All were murdered by the degenerate murderers. May their souls be bound up in the bonds of life.

1. Of blessed memory. R' stands for “Reb”, a title equivalent to “Mr.” Return

Grandma Batya had three sons: Herschel, Moshe, and my father, Yehuda. Grandma was widowed in her twenties, and so it fell on her to make a living to support the children. She knew how to prepare them to pursue a profession. When they married and stood on their own feet, Grandma devoted herself to helping others in need and especially loved providing support for orphans. My father Yehuda died in the prime of his life, in 1930, and my mother, Slova, remained alone with three small children. She rallied for the sake of her children, worked hard, and fulfilled their needs. They lacked for nothing. During the Holocaust, they all perished, mother, my brother Gershon, and my sister Bracha. May their memory be blessed.

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My mother used to call me affectionately, “kaddish mayner” (my kaddish). She devoted her life to her children; they kept her busy and preoccupied her thoughts, and her highest hopes were for them. Kaddish! Neither my parents nor I were granted a proper Jewish burial for them with a kaddish recited over their graves.

Zalman Fliter and his wife Leah (née Shvartzgorn), murdered in the Holocaust

Everyone loves their parents, respects them, and cherishes and remembers them forever. Almost everyone thinks that their mother or father was more devoted than all the other parents in the world. However, I am not exaggerating when I say that my mother could truly serve as a model, not only in her dedication to her children, but also in her understanding of how to attend to their future and strengthen them to protect them from harm or trial.

I remember when I was a small boy. I became ill and needed an operation. Mama neglected the house, her husband, and all other matters, sitting for entire weeks by my side in the hospital until I recovered from surgery.

When I got older and had acquired some education, Mama began to attend to my future. We were not so wealthy, but Mama knew how to save here and there and made it possible for me to study in Rivne, to acquire a profession that would stand me in good stead for when I would need to support myself. And she did not only take care of her own family. As a hard-and-fast rule, every Thursday she fed at least three indigent people.

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We were five children in the house. The apartment was not spacious but it was adequate. Warmth and love prevailed there. My parents were working people and happiness prevailed in our home.

In the evenings – especially on winter evenings – the house was full of guests. And when space at our place was tight, they would spill into the second wing of the house. Grandpa and Grandma lived there.

Next to tables laden with tea, pastries, fruit, and beverages, they would pass the time in lively conversation, games of dominoes, chess, lotto, and sometimes also cards,^[2] and so on. Grandpa's house held great attraction not only for the children and many grandchildren, but also for relatives, friends, and acquaintances. The house was always abuzz with guests. Among the regular guests I remember R. Yona Nemirover and leaders of the social work in which Grandma was active.

I remember all this with pain and sadness, because I will never again sit in the midst of this large and dear family; not only were the people slaughtered, but no trace of the household remains…

My parents, who so loved their children, did not live to take joy and comfort in their achievements. I was not granted the chance to remember them in the form of a grave or monument. I have no hope that I will ever be able to visit or prostrate myself on their grave, for no one knows where they are buried or how they met their end.

May these words of mine serve as a modest monument in their memory and for me as a small comfort for the pain that will never ease.

Yitgadal veyitkadash shmei rabah…^[3].

1. Mourner's prayer. Return
2. There is reference here also to games called 501“My Landlord” and “Oko.” Return
3. The opening words of the prayer, the mourner's kaddish. Return

My father. Those two words contain a multitude of delicate feelings. Boundless love, deep respect and great longing for my father, my teacher, who was murdered at the hands of degenerate demons in his 57^th year, when he was father to three daughters and grandfather to a granddaughter. His noble image is tied inextricably to the happy days of my childhood and it accompanies me till today. Although he made a living from commerce, he was given above all to the life of the spirit and educating the children. In actuality, mother ran the business. He, as a

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teacher by profession, knew how to impart to us a national, liberal, religious education, noble virtues, and a desire to learn. I do not remember even a single instance in which Papa punished us with flogging. And if sometimes he did raise a hand against a child, he immediately lowered it with a smile on his

The Eizengart family

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this world, and then my father perished and with him also the entire family and I am still alive, as in yesteryear…For I received the commandment to live from Papa. And in the continuation of this splendid chain of an ordinary Jewish family, I see the will of my father, whose memory will be kept in my heart forever. May his memory be blessed and bound up in the bonds of life.

Memorial plaque in honor of the Zalman Fliter family and the Shmuel Eizengart family murdered in the Holocaust

Just as Joseph the Righteous pleaded with his brothers before his death in Egypt, “carry my bones up from this place with you”,^[1] so the victims of the Holocaust asked before their deaths, “gedenkt unz, nemt nekome far unz” (remember us, avenge our blood).

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Their request echoes in our ears without cease. And, for good reason, each one of us thinks about it and endeavors to perpetuate the memory of our martyrs, devoting our time, energy, and resources.

And just as it is commanded us, till the end of all generations, to tell the story of the exodus from Egypt, and “whoever increases the telling is praiseworthy”,^[2] so it is our obligation to write down and put into a book every detail of the Shoah, of the people, the communities, and the like. Every kind of commemoration of the martyrs is sacred work. Monuments, grave stones, memorial plaques, books, and so on are important for the entire Jewish people. Those who make them, produce them, inscribe them, and edit them will be blessed. Commemoration has double meaning: a) “so that you will remember what the German Amalek did to you”^[3]; b) through the act of commemorating we pass before our eyes all the martyrs, and it is as if they are alive. Maybe this is the explanation of the verse, “who revives the dead with an utterance”^[4]. That is to say, when we recall the name of the deceased, he is alive in our eyes. Therefore, even here, “whoever increases the telling is praiseworthy” because in reviving the dead we are dealing with no trifling matter.^[5]

My uncle R. Hayyim Yossi Gelman (z”l) numbered among the most important householders in Mizoch. He was an erudite Jew, a well-versed scholar who regularly devoted hours to Torah study; he was a prosperous and successful merchant, who loved order and was fond of nature and whose house excelled in its cleanliness and well-tended gardens. No trace of him or his household remains. He, his wife, his only son, and his daughter-in-law – they died the death of martyrs. Of some small consolation to me are Aunt Batya's children, who stayed alive. From them came two daughters in Israel. Tovah Sheinfield in Kibbutz Mishmar Hasharon and her sister Leah in Jaffa. Two more daughters live abroad and all have raised Jewish families. My mother, Nechama (z”l) had three sons and all of them are in Israel, and they, too, have raised families and continue the family line. I want to conclude with the saying and the blessing, “He will swallow up death forever and may we not have further grief.”^[6]

1. A reference to Gen. 50:25. Return
2. Words from the Passover Haggadah. Return
3. A reference to Deuteronomy 25:17. In Jewish tradition, “Amalek” has come to stand for all mortal enemies of the Jews. Return
4. From the Seven-Faceted Blessing (bracha ahat me'en sheva). Return
5. The “we are dealing with no trifling matter” appear in Aramaic, not Hebrew: “ka askinan, velav milta zutarta hi”. They are quoted from the Talmud. Return
6. Traditional words of condolence offered to someone who has been bereaved. Return

Who in Mizoch did not know Golda Moshe-Hayyim Yossis? What a marvelous character this squat, stocky woman was! Every Thursday she would go from door to door of the houses in Mizoch and gather charitable contributions; despite the fact that she fasted that day, she went to all the homes, so as to collect the most donations.

In the evening – after breaking her fast – she would arrange the coins in packets, and the eldest of her grandchildren would run to the houses of the needy with the phrase

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she had put in their mouths: “Grandma asked me to repay the debt and say thank you.” The needy would accept the packets with a smile and run quickly to arrange their purchases for the Sabbath.

She used to participate in every funeral and sincerely shared the sorrow of the deceased's family.

Before her death she asked the prominent people of the town to study Mishna by her bed, and her final wish was honored. May her memory shine and be remembered among all the names of those who came from Mizoch.

Zeivel Murak and his Wife

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I was an only daughter, loved and pampered. I loved Mizoch and the young people there very much. As a member of “Gordonia” I used to spend time at the club and meet with youth from other organizations. We all dreamt of and worked on behalf of the Jewish homeland, and it saddens the heart that most of those young people were murdered and it was not granted them to arrive here. May their memory be blessed.

My family in Mizoch was extensive. Many uncles and aunts, both from my father's side and my mother's, cousins and other relatives who together numbered eighty people.

Papa's house numbered eight people. Papa and Mama and six children. I was the eldest among the children. My father, R. Menachem Mendel used to work hard, toiling from dawn till dusk in commerce. A number of years before the Shoah he succeeded in solidifying our circumstances and we became prosperous. As for Mama Hannah, her hands were always full with work: the living conditions in the house were difficult, but exemplary order reigned throughout. The house was neat and the children clean, well-taken care of, and carefree. Mama especially cared about the education of the children and was happy when they succeeded in their studies.

Our home was traditional. Sabbaths and Jewish holidays left an impression on me, even till today. And how great was the pain and how piercing the sorrow, that out of all the family only my brother Yeshayahu and I remained. All the rest met their end in the pit, in the mass grave of the Mizoch martyrs. May their souls be bound up in the bonds of life.

My brother-in-law Levi Breizman, member of a very extensive family in Mizoch, and his wife Etti, the daughter of R. Menachem Mender Biber (z”l), the author of the books Yalkut Menachem and Mazkeret Ligdolei Ostroh,^[1] were an exemplary couple. Their big, beautiful house which stood at the entrance to the city in Polish Street was one of the most splendid in town and open to everyone. My brother-in-law Levi was a modest, honest man and a successful merchant. On account of his many businesses, his house was always bustling

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with people: merchants from the biggest cities in the country, villagers from the surrounding area, local business people, workers, and agents or people in need of his favors. When fairs were held, at the house they would boil water in a large samovar and put it on a big table laden with bread, jam, and schmalz, and everyone who entered could eat to his heart's content. My sister Etti and her mother-in-law Hena Eidel used to serve the guests themselves. Etti, who was a nurse by profession, acted also in everyday life like a good sister^[2] to everyone who turned to her. Mr. Shmuel Eizengart, who lived in their apartment, used to speak with my sister only in Hebrew, and he testified that she had complete proficiency in that language.

Levi Breizman and his family

In the terrible catastrophe that befell our people at the time of the war, they met their deaths together with all the members of our holy community. May their memory be blessed and their souls bound up in the bonds of life.

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The Perliuk family with their daughter-in-law Hinda (wife of Moshe) when she visited in Mizoch

1. Menachem's Treasury [Compilation] and The Great Ones of Ostroh: A Memento. Return
2. A play on words. In Hebrew the same word means both “nurse” and “sister”. Return
3. Prayer quorum, a congregation of at least 10 adult Jews Return
4. A holiday celebrating the completion of the annual cycle of public readings of the Torah and the beginning of the new cycle. Return
5. Referring to blessings and refreshments after the prayer service. Return

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