[Page 98]

It is still difficult to describe in the right colors the appearance of this town. Although ten years have passed since its destruction, the wound is still fresh and the blood no longer clots, and there is no one who will come to console us for the destruction. Therefore, from this point of view, we describe what can be described by a human being. (Written in the year 1952).

The town of Stepan was located on the banks of the “Horyn”, a quiet and clear river, from which the fishermen who lived in houses along the shore made their living as they would sell the fish to the Jews. Some Jews ate fish every day, and others enjoyed the fish only on Shabbat. There were also families whose livelihood was from the fish: they would put them in large crates and take them to nearby Rivne.

In this river, the residents of Stepan used to bathe for pleasure during the hot summer days, stark-naked, without understanding why they should be ashamed at all.

The town was rich in simple Jews, without cunning, but with total devotion. Muscular Jews, strong like oaks, from whom even the gentiles were scared. Those who will be remembered favorably are: Mordechai Weismann (they called him Mottel Sarlis), Asher the blacksmith, Leib the shoemaker - each of whom is a chapter in himself. There were also in the town Jews who could use their strength for self-defense as well as defense on their Jewish brothers against the haters of Israel.

In addition to the simple people, there were also inspirational people: the Magid of Stepan who was famous and well-known in the vicinity, and left behind a dynasty of rabbis and a rabbinical throne with a “courtyard”. The Chassidim of the last heir, Rabbi Baruchel Tversky, reached as far as Luboml as well as the well-known Chelm.

There were Chassidim who immigrated to America and even there they did not leave their Chassidism and during the Days of Awe, they rushed to the Rabbi's table to “grab” leftovers from the Rabbi's hands, to dance at his table during the meal, to lead the Rabbi to Tashlikh accompanied with religious songs and psalms. There was an ardent Chassid named Katriel. The whole town knew that if Katriel would come - joy and happiness will prevail in the town.

There were also two rabbis in the town, who were called dayanim, one by the name of Rabbi Pinchas Gorinstein (who was called “Der Yotzer Tov”) and the other dayan, Rabbi ben Zion Walinsky, both of them were like two cats in one bag: what the one permitted, the other sometimes forbade, and vice versa.

[Page 99]

The old shochets, among whom there were also God-fearing people, such as Eli Moshe and old Rabbi Moshe, were also considered as intellectual people. The youngest of them were Levi the shochet and the chazan of the town, Rabbi Zvi Hochman, and Yoel the shochet. The shamashim of the synagogue were also considered as people who were engaged in the service of religion, among them were: Nachman the shamash, whom I remember with the tobacco box in his hand, Rabbi Yokel, a muscular Jew, who lived until the Holocaust and was over eighty years old. Until his last years, when he squeezed the hand of a young man, it was impossible to free the hand from his grip. He loved little children and every child he met shook his hand to say hello. The youngest among the shamashim was Novogrotsky Eli. In the morning and evening, he would serve in the holy work and in the afternoons, he would mend shoes.

Jewish youth against the background of typical houses in the town

[Page 100]

It is very difficult for me to come to terms with the idea that the town where I was born, Stepan, no longer exists. A short time after we arrived in Israel, we received the tragic news about the destruction of everything dear to us in our town of Stepan at the hands of the cruel Nazi enemy.

It is hard for me to forget the place of my birth and the place where I spent my childhood and youth together with my dear and loyal friends: Shachna Wachs, Mottel, Senderka Dem Dayans, Shmuel Zvi Kreizer, and Chaim Hochman. We showed initiative and ability and organized a youth club for us so that we could read newspapers, books and even listen to the radio, because there was no other entertainment in Stepan in those days.

There was a dear Jew in Stepan named Rabbi Hershel the watchmaker. His house served as a meeting place for us, and he was willing to listen carefully and was always ready to help. This Jew had three sons and three daughters. One of the boys, whose name was Lipmanke, survived and currently lives in Israel. The wife of the watchmaker was an outstanding hostess.

There were two expert photographers in town: Aharon Stoler, who was dark-skinned, thin, with a long, pale face and dark eyes. He loved his profession and had the talents of an excellent craftsman.

The second, Matityahu Mottel Weisman, was well-versed in his profession, was very energetic and punctual.

Each of these photographic artists had a specialized assistant. Aharon's assistant was my friend Shachna Wachs, who was one of the best guys in town. And I, the writer of these lines, worked as the assistant of Mottel.

Aharon Stoler, the expert photographer in the town

[Page 101]

The Jews in our town took pictures only on special occasions: when they had to send a photo or portrait to relatives in America, or when they intended to immigrate to the Land of Israel. Of course, from time to time there were also photographs of schools and of Jewish youth groups organized as part of Zionist movements. But most of the work was photographing the Poles and Ukrainians, mainly on their holidays.

It is hard to believe that all those dear and beloved people were exterminated by the Nazis of Hitler and are no more alive. Much of their hard work and art, which were expressed in the pictures and portraits, must have remained to this day in the hands of our Ukrainian neighbors from Stepan, some of whom helped in the extermination of the town's Jews.

[Page 102]

In 1930, when I was a sixteen-year-old boy, I graduated the “Tarbut” school in Stepan. At that time, as a young guy, I was debating about my future plans. Since there were no options for continuing studies for a profession or for higher education in a small town such as Stepan, I, like most of the boys of this age, wandered around idly.

In this year, youth organizations were founded, such as “HaChalutz”, “Hashomer HaTzair” and “Beitar”. I was attracted to “HaChalutz” even though during the day there was nothing to do there, but in the evenings, we would gather in the branch and we would spend the time talking, dancing, etc.

On Saturday or on a holiday, we used to sit on the Val that was on Poshtova Street, in front of Stepan's police station, and we would also take walks in the Galach garden (in Galaches garten). In addition, we would walk on Shabbat to Stepan's forest which was near the cinema, we would visit relatives and acquaintances, go swimming in our stream, and that's how we spent our time.

Most of the residents of Stepan, who were mainly shopkeepers and merchants, would stand in the doorway of their shops for entire weekdays waiting for a buyer, except for Thursday, which was the market day (mark). On Thursdays, hundreds of villagers from the villages near Stepan would come and sell what they had produced - milk, cheese, eggs, etc. We, that is, those among Stepan's Jews who dealt in peddling, would arrange entire rows of stalls in the market and would sell our wares and this process would continue continuously. During all the years, every Sunday of the week in the morning, all the Christians and gentiles would go to the Cloister (Church). They would walk proudly and with their heads held high and pass by our houses with hatred for us was evident on their faces.

In 1934, I went to training and finished it in 1938. At the beginning of 1939 - I immigrated to the Land of Israel with a group of pioneers from all countries. At the end of 1939, the war broke out and in 1944, in the winter, we heard the tragic news about the great Holocaust of all the Jews, among them residents of Stepan and members of my immediate family.

My late father, Yitzchak, was from a God-fearing and privileged Chassidic family. I remember that my grandfather Moshe and my father were well-known merchants, greatly admired by those around them. The Ukrainians called my father “Yitzhak Zlotnik”, which in Ukrainian means “man of gold”, because of his kindness, sincerity and understanding towards the Ukrainians with whom he traded.

[Page 103]

My late mother, from a family of rabbis and shochets, was an exemplary housewife. My mother's brother was Levi the shochet and the chazan, one of the beloved and admired figures among all the Jews of the town. He was the chazan and the one causing happiness at all the simchas in Stepan. My mother had another sister in the village of Stodin and a cousin named Etka Sheines, who emigrated to Canada before the war. One of my mother's brothers was Rabbi Kreizer who lived in the USA and passed away there close to World War II. His descendants live today in the USA and most of them serve on the throne of the rabbinate.

My father was a wealthy Jew relative to the other residents of the town. This continued until 1914, the period of the First World War. At that time, he became impoverished when the gangs of Petliura looted all his property.

The survivors of my immediate family include my brother Shlomo, who lives in Kyiv, Russia, my sister Gittel, who immigrated forty years ago to Brazil, and myself, who immigrated to the Land of Israel before the Holocaust.

My brother Dov, who served as a shochet in the city of Kremenets, and his family, and my brother Chaim who lived with his family in Rafalovka all perished in the Holocaust, as well as all the other members of my family near and far. May their memory be blessed forever!

Yitzhak, the son of Moshe Avraham Zilberman

[Page 104]

After crossing the Horyn River through the same wooden bridge that is over one kilometer long, you reached the gentiles neighborhood called the Kolaniyeh. Further in this neighborhood was a sandy road that led to a dense pine forest and in the entrance of this forest were a number of wooden buildings with many rooms, which were used in the summer season as a convalescent home - dacha. The convalescents in this dacha were not necessarily people from Stepan, but from nearby cities and towns. This dacha was famous and had a great reputation and people would come to it from central Poland as well as from abroad (more than once people from Paris stayed there).

The dacha was owned or leased for a long time by the Magid family. Its managers took care of fresh and clean food that was brought from the town every day in carts. The food was mainly dairy products from gentiles' farms as well as fish. It was the air of the pines forests that attracted many of the convalescents from far away.

We, the townspeople, would come to stay in this forest on Shabbat afternoons and have a picnic there and swing in a hammock, and we would visit the dacha and even go deep into the forest in search of mushrooms and berries.

These trips were held throughout the weekdays during the summer vacation and not always with the permission of the parents.

The Jews of Stepan, who would come near the dacha, would look at the convalescents from central Poland and abroad with great curiosity, at their different behavior, their clothes and the like.

In addition to the aforementioned dacha, a hot mud healing spring was discovered near the Polish village of Huta - Stepanska, and the place began to become famous in the area.

[Page 105]

The place of my birth, my dear town, you appear before me in all your happiness and joy, with all the goodwill and friendbetween one and another, and with all the will to help one another. I am sad to say that there quickly came a horrible, bloodthirsty time when an animalistic attack destroyed all that was precious in the blink of an eye. May the name of our enemies be destroyed, those wild animals descended from Amalek.

I am my parents eldest daughter. My name is Ethel, born in Stepan. After I got married, we lived in Rafalovka. With the help of G-d, we were fortunate and I was saved from the claws of the Nazi war. My parents were Aharon Mordechai and Hennia Shimshak. My sister Tzippah and her husband Pesach had 3 daughters, Beila, Rachel and Rivkah. Her husband, Pesach Plotnick, was a genius in Torah and with the help of my parents was able to devote himself totally to learning Torah. He brought joy to my parents and the whole family. All of them perished in the Holocaust. Also, my brother, Dovid, his wife, Channah, and daughters, Beila and Sarah, and their son, Avraham Altral, perished.

My parents and my brother were very capable people and in their financial lives they were very successful. They produced oil (Alearneal ?) and they always helped others. As I remember in their house, normally Motzei Shabbat, the big shots, shochets, and the Rav gathered for a Melava Malcah of song and dance. My mother always attempted to host all the important guests in an appropriate way. And I remember a special incident when they were burning coals, on top of which was a special warmer (samovar – Russian coffeepot). After a while the samovar melted because my mother never put water into it. After the moment of disappointment, everyone continued with the joy as if nothing happened and the guests enjoyed the other goodies and niceties of the party.

[Page 106]

In Kosmachov, a small and poor village on the road between Stepan and Kostopol, in which lived about a hundred Ukrainian families of Israel haters, lived only one Jewish family – the family of Yankel der Kosmichover.

Our house differed from the rest of the village houses in its size and shape. It had four rooms, while the neighbors' houses were built of no more than one room and an entrance and their roofs were covered with straw. Since our house was located on the main road, it was used as a hostel (without payment) for any Jew who passed from one town to another. They would stay in our house, eat with us and very often sleep in our house. We were always happy to see Jewish people visiting us because we were very lonely.

In this house we were born, grew up and for a certain period we also studied. We were six children - three boys and three girls. Ever since I can remember and until the bitter end, our grandmother, Grandma Scheindel, lived with us and took care of us. Those who knew her would say that she was one of the thirty-six righteous people. I share the same opinion.

There was no school in the village, however the children had to study. When we were little, our parents would bring a melamed to our home, usually he was a very old and lonely man and we didn't manage to learn much from him. Young guys were also brought to us, such as Gedalia Koifman and Silberman.

When we grew up a little, they loaded us - four children - on the cart - and brought us to Stepan, to a family such as the family of Moshe der Kovel, Machla Melamud, or Dudel Kriegel, where we lived and studied at a Polish school, and we studied privately Yiddishkeit with Moshe Koifman.

And here I must mention with trembling and great respect, the supreme, superhuman efforts that our late mother made to allow us to study. I will never forget how my mother mortgaged her last candlesticks so that she could pay for us the rental fees.

Every Sunday, my mother would show up with my older brother or with my father and bring us food for the coming week, which included potatoes, beans, milk, lettuce, and the like.

My late father had many businesses, but he had very little success in them. We had an olive press (oliarna), a machine for combing wool, and a large plot of land. We all worked very hard

[Page 107]

and despite this, great poverty prevailed in our home. Ever since I can remember, I saw our father wandering in his boots to look for loans to pay all kinds of taxes. We were always in debt and couldn't buy a pair of shoes. I will not exaggerate if I say that we lived in malnutrition.

Our life in the village was without purpose and without hope. Our whole dream was to get out of this valley of tears, to live among Jews, to manage somehow.

And indeed, with great efforts I was able to arrive to Vilna, to the “Tarbut” seminar, and while I was there, I was able to join my little sister to “Gordonia” and she left with the first group of illegal immigrants to Israel. A year after that, I also arrived in Israel, and here we began to plan how to get the rest of the family out of there.

Unfortunately, we were not able to do it on time and the Holocaust came upon them quickly and they all perished. May their memory be blessed forever.

Yaakov Rudnik, his wife and their grandchildren

[Page 108]

As in every town, there were a number of mentally ill and disabled people in Stepan. These were mostly poor, wretched people, who did no harm to anyone. But of course, they were well known to the townspeople for their strange and unusual behavior. Most of these would to go from door-to-door begging for alms and were supported in one way or another by the Jews of the town. Some of them lived in houses of their relatives-their families and some in the public poorhouse of the town. Those I remember are: Pearl - with her fantasies, Dinka, Raizel, Gitel-Kafka.

There was no shortage of disabled people of all kinds in the town as well: mutes, cripples and more. All these wretched people were supported by the townspeople, everyone was ready to come to their aid and even provided them with material assistance; but of course, first and foremost they were a burden on their families and relatives. However, at the same time as expressing sympathy to the situation of these wretched people, the mischievous people of the town enjoyed joking at their expense and harassing them with pranks, albeit in a restrained and limited way. The hand of the German and Ukrainian murderers did not spare them either.

In addition to these wretched and supported local people, different and strange types of people would regularly visit the town more than once a year. The most prominent among them was Rabbi “Messiah-Pali-Pali”. He was an old Jewish man, usually with a long beard, strong with muscles and unlike the custom of most Jews in the town and the surrounding area, he walked around bareheaded. This man would go from door-to-door begging for alms and food. One of his weaknesses was burning cloths and weaved things. He used to take underwear and clothing that were hanged on the rope or the fence for drying, and stuff them into the sack that he carried on his back. He would burn all the clothes he had gathered in the oven of the bath house and every burning of a rag would give him great pleasure which would be accompanied by shouts and cheers of happiness and joy: “Pali-Pali” (burn, burn) and hence his nickname.

We, the children of the town, would run after him and follow him so he will not steal rags or clothes from the homes of our relatives or friends. We also used to sneak up while he was sleeping and check his bag of things. When he would wake up, he would chase us angrily like a predatory animal and we would run away and drop his rags during our escape. On the other hand, we would gather around him every time he would burn the cloths and we too would enjoy his crazy happiness.

And we would not fulfill our duty if we do not mention the image of the other miserable people in our town. These were needy people, who would go from door-to-door begging for alms, who would come to Stepan several times a year until they had become familiar faces in the town. The Jews of Stepan treated them with good hospitality and invited them to sit in their homes or gave them alms and food.

  Stepan, Ukraine     Yizkor Book Project     JewishGen Home Page

Copyright © 1999-2024 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 05 Aug 2024 by JH