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When writing about the youth movements of Zborow, it is imperative to mention Naftali Katz, of blessed memory. He was one of the main organizers of the Zionist movement in town and specifically the youth movements. I remember that in 1924-25, he used to take us outdoors and lead discussions about the rise of the Zionist movement amongst the Jewish people. He used to accompany the discussions with folk tales. Naftali was a very good speaker and succeeded in keeping our attention for hours.

This is how the youth movements started. First, we rented a room for our meetings. We had very limited resources (membership dues) so we started fundraisers. The main one was on Purim. We organized a group that dressed up in different costumes and went from house to house singing and dancing (this action always worked except in bad weather). The second fundraiser was at the beginning of the month of Elul. We used to set up a table at the entrance to the cemetery and visitors to the cemetery donated money to us. The third one was during High Holidays, especially on Yom Kippur. We had a table in front of the synagogue and our Jewish brethren who attended services donated money to us. This is how we were able to pay for the room and our activities.

In the beginning, we had some hardships. There were times when our parents opposed our meetings, they even went to the landlord and asked him to stop renting us the room. I remember one incident when Shaul Pasternak, of blessed memory (Tzvi's father), showed up one evening in the middle of our activities and demanded that Tzvi leave the room immediately. This caused a big commotion and we barely were able to calm everyone down.

Little by little, we succeeded in instilling in our parents the Zionist ideology. Our counselors, Naftali Katz, Nachum Linder, Josef Auerbach (of blessed memory), and Dov Mehlzak contributed to this success. At one point, our movement split into three organizations: Gordonia, HaShomer HaTzaeer, and HaChalutz. At that time, we started to prepare ourselves for leading productive lives in Palestine. This included learning a trade and agricultural training. [The name Palestine is a substitute for the word Eretz in the Hebrew text. Israelis refer to Israel as Eretz (country) and usually don't mention the name Israel.]

I remember the first time when some of our friends, David Khlar, Eliayhu Silberman, Poldi Auerbach, Josef Linder, and Tzvi Dimand, left for agricultural training (Hachashara Chaklaeet). They secretly started with taking clothes out of their parents' homes and hiding them in secret places. All that was done clandestinely at night. In time, our parents found out and agreed that their children could participate in the movement's activities; however, they did not agree for the children to leave their families and join the Hachshara (short for Hachshara Chaklaeet).

The first one to leave for Palestine was Josef Auerbach, and that was done illegally. I remember it made a strong impression on us and we started to plan our future with the anticipation of emigrating to Palestine.

In 1926, at the age of 15, I decided to learn the trade of blacksmithing. This became the talk of the town as it was considered a gentile trade. Since I came from a religious Orthodox family, it caused strife at home. Not only my parents considered it a conversion, but my father, may he rest in peace, had to enroll me in the union of Polish Tradesmen called Tzach and pay to keep me there as an apprentice (it was customary at that time to pay your employer to be an apprentice).

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My father somehow accepted the idea that I would learn a trade. However, my mother, may she rest in peace, was very religious, and could not accept it and for a long time, she did not speak to me. My poor mother's dream was that one day I should become a rabbi in Israel. This was a big disappointment for her. Now I understand that all of my brothers and sisters (of blessed memory) were rebellious people, each one in their own way.

Moshe Shapira (in the middle) in the Workshop

My sister Deena, may she live a long life, also decided to learn a trade with the intention of moving to Palestine. She traveled to Lvov to learn the trade of knitting and succeeded in earning her living while she lived in Poland. Then at the last minute in August 1939, she left for Palestine. In Palestine, she was able to make a living even after she got married.

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I managed to emigrate to Palestine in 1936, after I went through hell while I was away from my late wife Chana, nee Pollak. She left for Palestine 2 years before me. It is noteworthy mentioning the gentle and heartwarming character of my father, of blessed memory. Although he was very religious, he understood what we were doing and helped all of us as much as he could either because he could see the future or from the goodness of his heart or for both reasons.

I have to mention that the youth movement at that time injected our souls with Zionist pioneering, justice and a world outlook that accompanied all of the youth in their way of life in Israel. The fact is that all the young people that came from our shtetl integrated successfully in all avenues of life. Some settled in kibbutzim, others were employed in clerical jobs, education, various trades, and in business. The success is attributed in large part to the education we received in the youth movements in our shtetl. I also want to mention something that is really heart-warming-the second generation youth is just as good as the first and we are very proud of them.

The Family of Lipe Shapira

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During the ten Days of Repentance, starting the day after Rosh Hashana, one could feel the tense anticipation of the Holy Day, Yom Yippur. Our Jewish brothers, myself included, hurried every morning to the synagogue to recite the Slichot prayers. Dark figures hovered on the dim streets towards the synagogue. Once in awhile, the silence was broken by sad and monotonous dog barks.

I have gone there alone from early childhood since I was an orphan. In the synagogue, my grandfather greets me, sits me next to him and guides me through the reading of the prayers.

Yom Kippur eve. The stores close early this time. People hurry to the bathhouses and the mikvah, coming out red and perspiring from the sweat bath. At home, there was great commotion. Everything takes on a great festive look mixed with a hidden fear. Who will not fear when “angels rush with fear and trepidation ... judgment day is here (paraphrase).…”

The last meal before the fast is consumed slowly. I am used to avoiding exaggeration in my food consumption. The family wishes each other a “Chatima Tova” and an easy fast. My elder brother, z”l, my mother, z”l, and I take our prayer books and head to the synagogue. Like us, many hurry to hear Kol Nidre. We run into relatives and friends and greet each other. As we enter the synagogue we separate. My mother goes up to the women's section, my brother and I enter the sanctuary through the palish [vestibule, a small room leading to a larger space] and the prozdor [hallway or foyer]. There is much activity around. All are dressed in festive clothes and wearing Fedoras, hats and kippot.

In the Palish [anteroom] there are many tables and stands with signs and containers to collect donations for various causes. People standing behind the tables invite the people to donate–to the synagogue fund, Torah scrolls, Torah study, the poor people charity Kimcha Defischa [to provide the poor with matzah], National funds etc, etc. Believers in the verse “Repentance, prayer and charity avert the evil decree” open their hearts and contribute generously.

Within the synagogue building there were three sanctuaries: the large one, the small, and the smallest,

View of the Stores in the Municipal Building closed for Yom Kippur

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dedicated to the tradesmen (the tailors small sanctuary). I attended the large sanctuary. Its dimensions fascinated me. It was large and high and accommodated a large number of worshippers. A square ladder on wheels stood in the left corner. It was used for the purpose of building maintenance. To the right of the gate stood a large container where faulty Torah scrolls, unfit for further use, were placed.

A Bimah [stage] with several steps was located in the center of the synagogue. On the Bimah, people prayed, read from the Torah, and delivered sermons. On secular days, guest speakers from the Zionist movement gave speeches. The Aron Kodesh [Ark] was on the eastern side. The leaders of the community sat on each side of the Aron, headed by the local chief Rabbi and teacher, the honored buildings' owner who “bought” the town. Common folks occupied the rest of the seats.

On Kol Nidrei eve, the synagogue had a special appearance. The floor was covered with hay trampled by the worshippers wearing socks and slippers, surrounded by a sea of candles lit in memory of thousands of souls. One candle for each soul. All these candles created compressive heat, smoky incense, and fog. In order to prevent a fire, a gentile walked around the candles and removed the melted candles. The worshipers sat with their prayer books in front of them. Many recited whispering the Tfila Zakah [special prayer that is said after completing the final meal before the fast upon arriving in the synagogue before Kol Nidrei]. The whole Jewish community congregated there. Even the non-believers who never step in the synagogue are here today! God knows what made them come. Playful children gather and run around. Once in a while, they are told to calm down, Nu...Sha....

The Gabai climbs to the Bimah and strikes the pulpit three times. All quiet down. The Torah scrolls are taken out from the Ark and given to the community leaders. The cantor, R' Israel Josef, stands by the column, bending slightly to fulfill “from the depths I call thee God.” His sons, singers, stand by to help him. They trill and create a most pleasing choir. Hershele, his youngest son, with his clear soprano voice, stands out. Special solo sections are created for him. The crowd beams with pleasure. R' Israel Josef, the royter [red] shochet [butcher], so called because of his beautiful red beard, projects his pleasant and strong voice throughout the synagogue. R' Israel Josef begins “Light is shed upon the righteous and joy on the upright in heart.” The congregation stands and repeats the prayer several times. The highlight of the service is the Kol Nidrei prayer starting with the verse “with the consent of the Almighty and consent of this congregation....” The cantor employs his best knowledge of the traditional chant that restores heart and soul. The congregation joins in the chanting of the prayer leader.

How I loved Kol Nidrei Eve! Decades later I still remember this high occasion and it awakens strong longings.

Samar Treger–Somer Hasabal

Somer Hasabal (lumper/carrier) was a notable figure in Zborow. He did not have an athletic build. On the contrary his body was small and shriveled. He was short and bent over due to his age of 80 plus. His very old age and his trade probably caused his bent body. His name (maybe nickname) was Somer Tchatch.

For decades he endured physical hardships. He wore shabby crumpled clothes and

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a flat hat (a casquette) stained and greasy from long use. His hat was oversized and he was always pushing it back from his forehead. Somer's face was wrinkled, thin, and covered with freckles. His small eyes reflected cleverness and restlessness.

A thick rope was wrapped around his hips, a professional identity, it was used to lift loads on his back accustomed to labor and pain. He never turned down any ask, such as: bags of harvest from the carriage to a barn, loads of tar from the merchant, and jugs of liquor to the tavern. I always wondered how such a small and scrawny man could carry on his back large loads that were much heavier than his small body that was almost entirely covered by this load and only his moving legs could be seen. Only moans and groans were heard from Somer's straining lungs. His body and loads became a single mass that walked heavily, slowly, and straining to reach his goal. This was the norm of Somer's life.

Somer enjoyed alcohol. He could give up everything else, except a drink–two or three glasses with a dunking of onion cake he kept in his sack. Or else a slice of bread would do. The generous town folks loved him and honored him with his preferred drink when an opportunity arose–weddings, circumcisions, and yahrzeits. It should be noted that Somer did not become a drunk. During “dry” periods with no brandy he waited patiently for an opportunity.

There was a tale told by town folks that Somer happened to meet the head bartender, a very rich man who owned the Profontsia, the wholesale business for wine and brandy. The strong odor of brandy reached Somer's palate and he longed to have a glass. So what did he do? He secretly took out a loaf of bread from his sack, tossed it into the barrel full of liquor and started yelling: Oy! Oy! My bread fell in the barrel... The owner sent his helper to pull the bread soaked with brandy out of the barrel and gave it to Somer.

Somer grabbed it and left quickly, He was successful. He sucked the drink and ate the bread with great satisfaction. No one could have been as pleased and full of happiness as he was.

She was known only by her first name–Chava. Because of her disturbed mental state she was called–crazy Chava. There was no interest in her family name or her origin. It was known that she came from a different place and that Zborow was one of her wandering stops. She did not have a permanent dwelling. She made due in various places and all her belongings were tied in disorganized small parcels. .

Chava was like a ghost in town. She hit rock bottom in her condition, a wretched and neglected woman, lonely and with mood swings. Her appearance attracted audiences, some lazy onlookers, others sadists who teased and mocked her. Others took pity on her and tried to protect her. Her existence in town gave rise to a popular saying that a town without a crazy person is not a real town. Zborow gained crazy Chava.

Chava was around 40 years old. Her wrinkled face made her look older. She was of average height, with unruly hair and fiery eyes expressing restlessness, fear and suspicion. Standing in front of someone she would turn her look away and look around at every passerby coming near her, fearing he would bully and chase her. She wore a weird assortment of dresses one on top of the other. Layers of weird and strange garments wrapped her body. She looked like a strange circus creature.

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To top off her weirdness, her face had a strange shade of gray which contributed to this glum picture that made her look like a monster.

Young children ran away from her in fear. Sometimes she wore strange old fashioned hats. Various Jewish and Christian ladies gifted her a “rich” wardrobe. She wore everything she had. Her appearance, including her bundles and handbags, drew the attention of all passersby.

Chava constantly provoked people on the streets. When she found a victim, she would yell at him with vile curses. Most victims would react patiently, shaking their heads. Others reacted harshly and “graced” Chava with beatings. She would then sit on the ground and sob. Suddenly her mood would change and a smile would appear through the tears followed by a wild laughter. Sometimes she would sing refrains and parts of songs.

Chava had a merciful heart. She was naturally generous. She would share part of her treasured food and clothes with the poor and needy. I was told that one day poor Chava disappeared from the town. After several days she was found floating in the Strypa river under a bridge. It was assumed either she drowned or was drowned by evil people. Her death, like her life, was a sad tragedy.

Her name was Pesha Boy. “Boy” was her nickname. She and her sister Hannah (Hanah'le) always walked together in town. Hannah would hide in her older sister's shadow. Their mother was deaf and mute and the three were a family beaten down by fate and suffering. The mother was widowed at a young age. The Divine Providence “granted” her misfortunate offspring. For the sake, she worked in crushing physical labor. The mother and daughters lived in a crumbling apartment in a poor neighborhood.

There was a big difference in the appearance of the mother and her daughters. The mother took care of her hygiene and clothes, Pesha and Hannah were unkempt. Pesha's hair was wild and uncombed and her clothes neglected. How come? It was due to their mental retardation. They did not go to school and, because of their mother's muteness they got used to being silent and their vocabulary was very limited. Those days there were no social services that would care for them. Pesha worked here and there but Hannah remained idle. Both girls had solid bodies, but were awkward and their legs had edema. Pesha's strange speech was accompanied with laughter but Hannah, had only a shy and weird smile.

Young boys bullied them and angered them. The girls defended themselves by shouting unclear words and sounds and waving their hands. Sometimes they screamed and yelled till the boys would stop their bullying and leave.

Every Friday the two sisters would go door to door and collect bread, whatever was on hand–half a challah, bagels. These were bundled up in their aprons. Occasionally they were lucky when generous people gave the girls tasty baked goods–yeast cakes, onion rolls, potato and flour kugel. .

Leftover food from wholesalers became basic nutrition for the family until the next “collection” on Friday. On Passover eve, the community would give them and others like them free matzot. Sometimes they would receive clothing from the rich town people or from packages sent by townspeople living overseas, in the USA. They wore those clothes as received with no attention to their proper fit. The main thing was to cover their bodies and keep warm.

The fate of the mother and the daughters most likely was that of our Zborow brothers during the Holocaust.

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