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The small town of Piesk is located on two banks of the Zelvianka River, between forests and swamps, comprised of small wooden houses and roofs made of straw and shingles, and on them was a green covering of moss. Tiny windows, and wooden doors that react to every movement. Most of the houses consist of two rooms and a kitchen, with a shelter for chickens in the wintertime.

Behind these decrepit houses were gardens and orchards, which provided the principal sustenance to the residents. Not much was required: a slice of bread smeared with some butter, a glass of milk, a plate of potatoes, and not much of that. But observe the miracle: the doctor had nothing to do in the town, and if there was a problem, he would have to be brought from the nearby city.

The larger source of income was to be found in the forest and the water. On the east, the forests of Oslian and Mosty' spread out, and it was there that the homeowners of Piesk would send their sheep and cattle to graze in the summer. Towards evening, the sheep and cattle would return from the pasture with their udders full of milk, and they would fill the town with the dust kicked up by their passing, and the smell of the fields and woods.

To the west lay the Zelvian Forest, young and green, and to the left, the Strumnitz Forest with its stiff-straight pines, that extended their branches skyward, as if in prayer.

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All of these great forests were a source of pride to the residents of the little town of Piesk. Among their plants, young and old alike would dream and envision the future, poor and rich alike. The Strumnitz Forest was clean and fresh, and spread out in the summer in all its charm, covered and draped in the greenery of grasses and moss, interlaced with the flowers of forget-me-nots, mushrooms and berries, both black and red. During Fridays and Saturdays, the forest was full of young and old visitors. This was the central location of all the strolls taken by the young people. There, one dreamt of love, and of better times, about faraway places, like the Land of Israel and America, about good fortune and happiness, everything that was not available in the town.

Here, the young people felt free, here not a single person bothered them, here there was no one to fear. The forest hid them, and shielded them from the dark visages of poverty and incessant hunger. The forest gave of itself equally to all comers, and with its full bounty. Soft, green earth, full of grass and flowers, and the field and forest was pleasant and intoxicating, filling everyone with a sense of power, and a strength to dream about something beautiful and good.

Close by, the cemetery could be found. At times, it seemed to me that the town tilted its head in the direction of the cemetery, as if the forest was trying to expel the dead of the world, because the town is old, gray and dark, and the forest – large, strong, green and beloved, pulling on the heart. Behind it, spread out huge stretches of pasture, where horses and cattle grazed.

The town, and everything around it, including the fields, ponds and forests, was the property of the Nobleman Visfing, who leased out all the land to my grandfather, on condition that he establish a flour mill in the town for personal use and for export to foreign lands, especially to Germany. The days were measured by the movement of the millstones.

Gentiles began to arrive, settlers from the entire area, who brought their wheat in their wagons, in order to have it ground into flour, and also chickens, eggs, cheese and butter, for sale to the homeowners who had no cattle of barnyard fowl. In exchange for the money received, the gentiles would buy muslin, salted fish, salt, and all manner of necessities required in a peasants home. The Jewish storekeepers would stand in the doorways of their stores, and call out to the peasants by name, and suggest that they enter their stores. They were always concerned that they would lose a buyer and the attendant income.

The flour mill, that rose to a height of three stories, and worked only on export produce, employed cylindrical grinders of the most modern design. The grain would be washed and dried, and the entire process was conducted automatically. Manual labor was only required to pour the grain into the machine, and to take out the finished flour. I recall how the mill was koshered for Passover, in order to grind the grain for flour to make matzos. Two Rabbis from the town would come to inspect the mill to assure its kashrut. They would inspect every place, to assure that there was no place that leaven could be stuck. After the inspection, the Rabbis would receive their fee, because the sale of candles and yeast was insufficient for them to support their families, typically blessed with many children.

The trees from the forest would be floated down the Zelvianka. My grandfather, and after him, my father ז”ל, would send them down the Neman in large log rafts on the way out of the country. Many of the Piesk residents worked on the river. I can see them now in my mind's eye: tall in build, strong, tanned faces, dressed only in their underwear, with strips of leather on their shoulders. They would step across the long logs as if they were walking in their own homes, and their long beards would actually touch the logs. For their long journey with the logs, they would provision themselves with food for two months.

There were five Batei Medrashim in Piesk, and the members of the older generation carried on their spiritual lives within them: Chayei Adam – for the trades; The Mauer – for the balebatim; Hiltzener

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(made from wood) – for the common folk; The Hassidrania – for the Hassidim; The Schul – for holidays and festivals. All the Batei Medrashim looked alike, both inside and out.

Chayei Adam – a large wooden structure, in which prayer was conducted at the first minyan. All of the tradesmen were inclined to get to this house of worship early in the morning in order to pray before going off to work. Between the afternoon and evening service, this Bet HaMedrash was full of people, carrying on conversations to their heart's content, one with another.

The congregants at the Mauer were generally people that had full faces and round figures. From their vest pocket, a golden chain dangled, attached to the watch they had received as a wedding gift. They were in the habit of getting up at a later hour, come into the synagogue in small steps, put their hands on each other's backs, and after exchanging a hearty welcome, began to discuss the politics of the Czar, who deserved to break his head, about the situation at the front, etc.

The Hassidrania seethed and was filled with noise as if a wedding was going on. Hassidim, dressed in long kapotehs and wrapped in their black-belt gartels, would be praying with great passion, and occasionally break out in a little bit of a dance. This was a community of joyful Jews, full of fire and devotion, especially – in their faith in the Holy One, Blessed Be He. They made do with the ‘least of the least,’ and with the leavings from the table of the Rebbe.

The Schul was the pride of the town. It was built in a Gothic style, with many spires, and it stood on a hill that was reached by a stone stairway. Here, mostly the young people worshiped, and more than worshiping – they conversed with one another. All the rumors and bad-mouthing reached here. Among these young people were young newlyweds, tied to the table of their fathers -in-law, who would swap novels and books of their fathers. These constituted the intelligentsia of the town. Among them were Hebrew speakers, Zionists, dreamers about aliyah, but until their dreams could acquire substance – they would wander about the town idle, pacing its streets.

There was another kind of youth in the town – workers who worked very hard to survive and support their families: shoemakers, tailors, dyers, carpenters, etc. Their dress was poor, and they smoked cheap tobacco. There were among them, those who had no one to whom they could hire out their skills. There were no factories in the town, and not even other workmen who could hire them. The Polish government did nothing to improve the conditions of the young Jewish workers. It was the opposite, it did everything possible to stunt their lives, in order to deprive them of their rights. All the licenses and concessions for tobacco, taverns, mail, etc., were transferred to Poles. Cooperatives were established, and at the same time, many Jewish stored closed down. The idleness grew more intense, and as a result of this, bitterness and hopelessness grew stronger. Many of these sought to find liberation as a result of the October [Russian] Revolution, and whoever got caught – was thrown in jail. Many young people crossed the border, wanting to breathe easier, but by and large, did not find what they were looking for on the other side of the border.

There was a Russian church and a Polish church in the town. These churches stood virtually abandoned during the middle of the week, however, on Sunday a large number of peasants would stream to them, coming by wagon, dressed in their holiday finery. They would leave their horses beside the church, tied to their wagons, and enter the church with the fear of God showing on their faces. After they would hear the words of their priests, saturated with hate for the Jews, they would come out with faces showing arousal, and look for opportunities to pour out their anger on the Jews, “the crucifiers of the Messiah.” It was a rare occasion that a Sunday would go by without an altercation between the Christian and Jewish young people.

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