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A.

When was Turobin founded? Who were its founders? How did it develop and root itself in the distant and recent past? When did Jews settle in it and how?

Those questions and many others remain unanswered for a simple reason: there is nobody to ask. Every possible source was denied to us across generations either accidently or maliciously, archived in the dirt or burned in the flames of the hell our brothers and sisters were cast into. The few survivors who luck smiled upon are mostly young and the wisdom of the elders has yet to be absorbed in their wounded and fractured consciousness. Few of us know the history of the town in which we were born and raised. Our parents could not pass it along and we grew and entered local life as if it was born and created with us.

Those questions resurface and bother whenever we return in our thoughts to the place in which our ancestors were born and lived, and where we too drew our first breaths. It was our hometown and we knew no other birthplace in our lives. Eretz Israel was in our consciousness like in a mental archive, vague in the magic of the ancient legend, along with the creation of the Earth, the times of the national Forefathers and the wonders of Genesis. It seemed to us like on a distant star in a different universe.

The reality we lived was Turobin and thousands of other towns. The pain of the Holocaust which eats us is therefore multi–emotional and pours into the depth and with of our pain and suffering. The deep and fracturing pain in our soul for the destruction of the lively, culturally varied Diaspora which spanned across many generations, bothers, and feeds on it. The more we try to ignore and suppress it, the more it resurfaces. As if it has a mind of its own it stands before us and raised many questions. Our minds' eyes wander and we wonder as they examine the view, the natural background against which we were raised. It was there that we grew, learned, played, and lived our lives, a normal life as we perceived it, lively and deeply rooted lives in a world of institutions and cultural values which were not created overnight. Where did it all come from? When did it begin? That nostalgic curiously, a powerless dig in a past which was uprooted, or that we were uprooted from, is an act of historic cruelty.

A legacy spanning many generations was eradicated from the world in one fell swoop and is no more. Those were generations which despite the troubles which impacted our nation occasionally, did not cease, until the final generation. Still, they settled in the ground, grew fruits, and expanded their trunks, and in rivers of blood they were fruitful and multiplied. Their fate was sealed in ancient times when they were commanded, “when thou wash in thy blood, Live!” They lived in rivers of blood, lives full of creation, thought, and deed, as if life was fertilized and fed on the blood and suffering.

Could we uproot it all from our hearts in one day and forget it all?

Now that I am so distant from them, the ancient tombstones in the Turobin cemetery speak to me,

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consumed with age, as if they want to tell me much about the history of the town, its people and its history. The Synagogue that was destroyed, and its twin – the beth midrash both try to explain events from the depths of history, and tell me divine secrets from a world that is no more. That library full of ancient holy books in the beth midrash could have told many stories.

When we began gathering material for this book, it was obvious to us that we had to find some description of the history of the town. We contacted some historians who promised to obtain the required material but to no avail. Our town was small, sperate from the large Jewish arena of the large towns. Its roads did not find their way to the hearts of the large Jewish community, despite its geographic proximity to Lublin (50 – 60 km), a large town bustling with culture. We can barely find our town on the map. The historians who deal with that region of Poland see in their mind's eye the entire region and their focus is primarily on the large towns, the centers of activity and culture. We almost gave up on the possibility of penetrating the history of our town, when one of the members found Mr. Yisreal Halperin's book on the Council of Four Lands (Bialik Institute of the Jewish Agency) where we discovered twenty mentions of Turobin. However, an irritating disappointment occurred since we found nothing about the town itself.

The name of the town is mentioned in relation to events which occurred in other places and the name of a representatives of the town appeared in relation. Absent any other choice, we made due with that scarcity for the time being. At least we know that our town existed 400 years ago, that great men served as rabbis in the town, and that the community representatives participated in the activities of that important council, which led Polish Jewry for about 240 years, since the start of the 16th century.

Not all towns were fortunate to be represented in that council, whose authority and position in Judaism of that time could compare only to the Sanhedrin of old. For example, it is told that Tykocin gained representation at the council only in 1678. Matters concerning that town were often discussed by the Council, and it is likely it was an important town with communal significance. It demanded representation at the Council, the request was deliberated and granted. Among the signatories, we found Meir ben Yosef of Turobin, who must have been a longtime member of the council.

This is not the place to delve into that important council. We will just say, that it convened mainly in Lublin. The bulk of the activity was twice a year, mainly at the Gromnitz Fair, and continued for several weeks. Jews from all corners of Greater Poland gathered in Lublin at the fair, which usually gathered between Purim and Passover. They would state their issues or deliberated in front of the Council. The Council would hear their complaints, disputes, or questions on matters of Torah, and would clarify, decide, and render a verdict. Its verdicts were adhered to

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like a governmental decision. The verdicts and decisions were recorded in a ledger, which, much to our dismay, has vanished and is no more, aside from the few surviving documents. From the end of the 16th century, Poland granted the Council de jure authority as representing Polish Jewry. Its title, “The Council of Four Lands” relies on the fact that its authority spanned across Russia, Lithuania, and the two halves of Poland.

The Council of Four Lands heard the voices of the notable communities and its positions were filled by important notable people of Jewry of the time, in the Torah world, of course. As previously stated, Turobin was represented at the Council, and rendered opinions on matters concerning all of Polish Jewry.

In the absence of details or stories which could shed light on the long chronology of town events, I found some solace that some issues ruled on by the Council of Four Lands were signed by Turobin's representatives. That confirmed reality about our town can make us proud that our town was not at all a weak one within the Polish Jewish community.

These are the details:

1. In 1607, at the Gromnitz Fair in Lublin, the Council enacted regulations obligating all Polish Jews including issues of interest on loans, etc. among the signatures is also:
   “I too hereby sign, small among my peers, Shimon ben my teacher and father David Oyerbach of Turobin”
   Turns out that Mr. Shimon Oyerbach was ABD of Turobin at the time and was an in–law of the great Talmud commentator Mahrshal.
2. In 1643, the Council discussed misprints in prayer books published in multiple versions. The Council decided to grant exclusive rights to the rabbi of Pshmishel, Shabtai ben Yitzchak Sofer, to publish a single version of the prayer book and decreed that no other prayer book be published and distributed.
   At the same fair in Lublin, where the Council came to the aforementioned conclusion, there was a man named R' Menachem “Manesh” ben Yitzchak Chayoot, ABD in Turobin. He probably represented Turobin at the council's deliberations.
3. In 1669, the representatives of the Tykocin community complained the council was discriminatory in its practice of collecting taxes from residents to the Polish Sjem, while the Council covered the same cost for other communities. Among the signatures is that of Yitzchak of Kraka, residing in Turobin. He was likely a community leader and not necessarily a rabbi.
4. In 5432, the Council convened in Jarosław, and decided to no longer convene in that

cursed town (Jews were permitted to live only in two houses in that town.) In that convention participated also “Yitzchak ben harav Uri Shraga Feivish” representing Turobin.
5. In 5433, the representative of Pińczów complained to the council that many people relocated to their town while it was detrimental to its residents. Poverty was widespread in town and few sources of income existed. They requested authority to forbid such immigration, for the sake of its longtime residents.
   The request of Pińczów was affirmed and signed also by David Tebbil of Turobin.
6. In 5438, 18 Jewish community leaders gathered and signed a promissory note for the nobleman Georg Miltren fun Miltenburg, treasurer of the royal city of Breslau. The promissory note stated the loan was to be paid back over 12 years, “starting at the Elizabet Fair 1679.” Among the signatories was the aforementioned Meir Yosef of Turobin.
7. That same year, the council approved the publication of the bible with a Yiddish translation by R' Yosef Atiash of Amsterdam. Among the signatories was “R' Meir ben rabbi Yosef Yoske Katz of Turobin,” (probably the aforementioned Meir Yosef, or ben Yosef, although the signature is sometimes shorter.)
8. A few years later, the Council received another loan from the same nobleman of Breslau and signed a promissory note obligating payment over 9 years. Among the signatories was R' David ben Eliezer of Turobin.
9. In 5447, the representatives of Opatów posed a complaint similar to the one previously made by Pińczów (that people were settling in it despite economic straits, and that only one street allowed Jewish residence) and a decree was issued that no more Jews will settle there. Among the signatories was Meir ben Yosef (Katz) of Turobin.
10. In 5448, the Council granted an exclusive right to a rabbi to publish and distribute a book. Among the signatories was Zacharia Mendel ben rabbi Arye Leib of Turobin (it is told that he was a wealthy man and the author of the book Ba'er Hetev on Shulchan Aruch, Yore De'a, and Choshen Mishpat.)
11. In a dispute between the Tykocin and Mezritsh communities about a plot of land brought to and settled by the Council was signed by Meir ben Arye Leib of Turobin.
12. In 5449, the Council granted a three–year copyright to the author of Zofnat Pa'aneach. Among the signatories was the aforementioned Zacharia Mendel of Turobin (it is likely that Zechariah Mendel and Meir were brothers who both served Turobin.)
13. In 5451, the Mezritsh dispute was renewed and the Council forced them to adhere to the previous verdict. Among the signatories was Zacharia Mendel of Turobin.
14. In 1726, the Council detailed its annual revenues and expenditures. The costs included a tax to the treasury for the sum of 220,000 “yargelt” to the master [?], 12,000 to the royal treasurer, and more. The Council also detailed the sources of revenue and levied

taxes on each community. Some communities were grated a discount. It is interesting that the Council granted the same 600 silver [?] ruble discount to Lublin as they did to Turobin. Discounts were based on the community's finical state or some other troubles. The entire budget numbered 288,300 gold.

In a later book, published in 5672, titled Mekor Chaim [life source] dedicated to the rebbe of Tzanz, Chaim Helberstam, and his lineage, (p109) the following story appears:

“I was told by zh”b [?] R' H.M [?] Shekhna of Turobin traveled to the Mr. Khrabbi [?] A. near there, with vexlen [exchange/ IOU?] worth several thousand rubles to collect his debt. He (the khrabbi) took the vexlen from him to pay and immediately tore them up. Bitter, he travelled to Tzanz. On Friday, he arrived at the synagogue, where some dispute was taking place: what is preferable, being a rabbi or a merchant. The Holy Rav came and said being a rabbi was preferable, and added, ‘ask Shekhna, he will tell you.’ After he did not proclaim [?] and told him everything, he said to him, ‘travel to Lublin,’ and so he did. While there, he saw a gentleman he was acquainted with, who saw he was sad and inquired about it. He told him. That gentleman then saw the debtor and made a large effort until the debt was repaid.”

That was about 100 years ago. Among the rabbis who travelled to the Tsanz rebbe was ABD of Turobin, Rabbi Yuda Leibush and Zolishtchik (page 117.)

B. Changes in Turobin

The town was about 50 km south of Lublin.

I was 13 when I left it and would return home only on holidays. In 1935, after a few years of pioneer training, I made aliya. So, I cannot recall details on the town's history, its people, and institutions, except in a vague and general sense.

If the book The House of Israel in Poland edited by Yisrael Halperin is to be trusted, the town was founded at the end of the 16^th century. Although the name of the town is not mentioned in the book, Krasnystaw, Zamość and other neighboring towns in the Lublin province are mentioned in relation to [expulsion] privileges and allowances the gentile residents of those towns received in 1555. Privileges were not implemented until king Zygmunt August approved them, and Jews from those towns were expelled. At that time, the noblemen requested the king to extract the Jews from his royal towns and resettle them in towns and villages owned by nobles. Their intention was to enjoy their taxes, trade, etc. Thus, many Jewish towns and villages were founded in the 17^th century.

“Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders and they will say to you,” goes the verse, but when father and grandfather are absent there is nobody to ask. That is the additional tragedy to the destruction of Polish Jewry, which also destroyed an important chapter in the history of the Polish Jews who were experienced in suffering and bloodshed.

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The surviving population is comprised mainly of youths who were mostly children when the tragedy took place, and the only remaining option is piecing chronologies from crumbs and speculation.

Indeed, we can estimate the town's origin is somewhere in the 16^th century with some Jews who came to settle under the jurisdiction of the nobleman. The Jews of the time needed a minyan, and a minyan required a community, a community necessitated institutions, and so on until a gathering established with patterns typical to that time: a community council, rabbi, shochet, circumciser, synagogues, cemetery, bathhouse, charity institutions, etc.

Truthfully, the town was no different than others. It was muddy, almost detached from the outside world, its genesis rife with struggles for existence and livelihood, and enjoyed autonomy with minimal governmental intervention. The parents worked hard to earn a living, and the youths, other than those apprenticing in their parents' profession at a young age, either studied Torah or completely inactive. The adults in their free time took up as “hobbies” matters such as a dispute, Hasidism wars, appointing or dismantling the community council, praising or else smearing the rabbi, etc.

There was one difference between the town and the neighboring towns like Żółkiewka, Goray, Wysokie and others, in that it had many Torah scholars and religiously observant and its reputation preceded it. The name Turobin was explained in the joining of the words ‘Torah’ and ‘binah’ [wisdom.] Its true Polish name was Turobin. The study of Torah in town was constant. Those who themselves did not or could not study would listen to instructors and leaders between prayers, on shabbat, and holidays. For a boy, the study of Torah began at age 3 when he was “tossed” in a festive ceremony to the dardeki [toddler teacher.] At age five, approximately, he left the dardeki and graduated to a higher level teacher taught Torah with Rashi commentary, and some Mishnah. From that teacher, he passed on to a greater one, until the age of 10, approximately, he knew a chapter in Talmud. Above such an age a teacher no longer necessary, and he began attending the beth midrash, where boys studied on their own in the company of older boys who were better versed, or with the aid of the elderly scholars who only slept and ate at home and the beth midrash was their home in which they also rested. I remember that the study of Talmud was done in public at the beth midrash, while the adults, the breadwinners, were busy praying, teaching, or labored on religious literature along the two sides of the tables placed along the walls of the beth midrash. The back and forth of melodic Talmud study mixed with the notes of prayer. The atmosphere inside the beth midrash bustled like a beehive from the early morning hours to the late hours after midnight. The debate was fierce, the will of the youths to outdo one another was natural and ambitious. There were boys aged 15–16 who already swam freely in the sea of poskim. The Shulchan Aruch and Maimonides were the source of much knowledge and pride, and the envy of scholars increased wisdom. On that note, I recall one episode among many:

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There was a family which particularly excelled in that field, the Estreicher family. The patriarch, a large Jew with the looks of a wiseman, owned a fabric store and was a follower of the Alexander rebbe. He had three sons: Bunim, Yechiel, and Yerachmiel. They were the only Alexander Hasidim in town, as most Hasidim in town were Ger Hasidim. In addition to being unusual, they were also very studious. So, Ger Hasidim were prideful and dismissed Alexander Hasidim like dirt. Thus, the family became socially isolated. In response, the father enacted a strict Torah study regime on himself and his sons to rebuke the Ger Hasidism. The father, as he labored in his store, did not cease studying Torah as well and that family fulfilled the instruction “you shall study it day and night.” They rose early and departed late. They studied even at home in the late hours of the night, the sound of Torah was heard echoing. Thus, they reached a status which very few could attain.

Moreover, town boys were not sent to the only secular school in town which was run by Christians. Each tried to attain elementary knowledge in literacy and mathematics and made due with that. The knowledge of Torah overshadowed the need for secular education which was barely felt. In contrast, the girls attended the elementary 7–class school. The boys later attained their secular education from the girls as if it was a game.

The beth midrash served not only as a center for prayer and Torah study, but also a social and cultural center for the residents of the town. Deals were made between the afternoon and evening prayers, and were marriages were arranged. Disputes took place there, passionately debated, be it about aliya la'torah or a spot by the eastern wall. All wedding canopies took place and funeral processions began in the yard. Lecturers came to the synagogue and recited their lectures from the stage at the center. Fundraising took place there for support of yeshivot, orphans, impoverished brides, etc. It was also a gathering place for passers–through and peddlers who wandered the area. They gathered near the entrance, and as they exited, the crowd would contribute their pennies or invite them for lodging and meals.

Despite the disputes and fights among the various classes and Hasidic sects, all residents were still one community, united in joy or mourning, good or bad. When a wedding took place, all its members, including the elders, women, and children partook in it. If there was a funeral all residents came as a final act of charity. If trouble overtook the town, chaos included all. I remember the drowning of three sisters and the awful panic which encompassed all. If gentile youths rioted in town, all the youth untied against them.

Alongside the beth midrash, some of the youth went towards progress. The pioneering and Zionist movement was imported to town by youths who were exposed and influenced, secretly read external books, visited the big city, befriended a stranger who settled in town, and matters began to organize. Thus, chapters of HaKhalutz, General Zionists, Mizrachi, and Ha'poel Hamizrachi were founded. They found large grounds to operate among the many youths who were free from the worry of labor and wasted time. The burden of providing a living extended to older sons and daughters. The daughter awaited a groom and the son a good arrangement from the outside. [?] The beth midrash

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no longer attracted them, aside maybe for prayer. Envoys from the movements oversaw their establishment. Reading and thought–provoking material was common. The secret liberation from the bind of tradition induced happiness, and party activity had much content. Fundraising, lectures, endless ideological debates. There were also socialist youth, members of the Bund. They were mainly the craftsmen who were the third step after the attendees of the beth midrash and the various Zionists. They did not have much time to run wild; they worked hard to make a living and dreamed of the socialist revolution to rescue them. And if the messiah came before that – how wonderful, and therefore they continued to pray at the synagogue.

Thus, the town was divided into three layers, which added volume to the liveliness. In addition, among the Hasidic sects and among the chief rabbi and the halachic instructor, the disputes were added among the many Zionist movements and among them and the Bund members, with almost complete overlooking of the poor state of life in town and the almost total disconnect from events occurring in the big outside world.

An outside observer would probably shake his head at the sight of the naivete of the town's residents, the excitement in such debates and the seriousness of debating trivial matters. But those things were an important prat of the community atmosphere and reflected the character of that small community, its alert thinking, its activity, and energy from a social–communal aspect. It was all done without taking away the wholeness of the community, the devotion, and care for one another in times of need, and the saying of “All Israel are responsible for one another” as they occasionally competed in charity. Anyone who requested help received is it, and many acts of charity were made anonymously.

What I clearly still remember is the beautiful views and the natural blessings of the place and region. They were so captivating and fascinating, so it is natural that the Jewish residents knew how to be happy and joyous with all their being, despite the difficulties and various troubles which occurred, which at times had enough strength to depress the will to live. The fields with wild flowers in all colors of the rainbow, the trees, the silent flow of the river, the intoxicating scents in the fall and spring seasons, the song of the birds and all the rest served as a calming and sweeting drug for the Jew in his troubles.

The town was on an agriculturally rich and fertile soil. It was decorated by many mountains, forests, and villages. Along its south side flowed a narrow and long river stream which went on for many kilometers beyond it. That river served the youth as the only sports arena where they swam, dived, immersed, jumped, and gathered for entrainment. Everyone in town knew how to swim, thanks to the river. A hut hidden among thick brush in one part of the river served a meeting spot for romantic couples or a cold mikveh for choosy Hasidim. Entrance to the hut was not free and entitled a small payment to a gentile farm owner through which one had to pass. The passage was on narrow wooden boards which bridged water along the path. Special agility was required to walk down that path without getting wet. There were some which an athletic challenge in the long swim from the edge of the river by the main road and surprised the lone bathers in the hut, much to the joy of all.

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In the winter, the water froze, and the icy arena served for skating as the winter sport. All skated, sometimes on nailed heals, at times ripped ones. Chunks of ice were divided into squares, loaded on coaches, and led to town, where they were stored in cellars or piles of sawdust and used as refrigeration during the summer. As spring arrived and the snows melted, the river rose and flooded a significant portion of the fields and farms mainly at the eastern part of town, called “przedmieście” (suburb), an area which resembled a miniature Venice. passage to the homes was done on temporarily placed wooden planks or bricks which never failed. I remember how much I enjoyed that charming site when I happened to pass through the place with my father who went to visit a gentile he was acquainted with. I was very jealous of the young gentiles who accompanied by their dogs steered small boats or rafts along the river among swimming ducks and chicks.

At another part of town, at the North–West edge, was the estate of the aristocrat of the town Hortshek, whose ancestors must have seen to it that Jews settle in the area. That nobleman controlled large plots which produced many goods. His private residence was surrounded by gardens and fields full of fruit and decorative trees, and large dogs swarmed the property. I was always attracted to the enchanted spot spurred by my imagination as mysterious, with a fearful curiously. Accompanying my father, I managed to see much of it; the stables and cowsheds, granaries, the big herds of cows, horses, swine, chickens, and the people laboring like slaves from sunrise to sunset, all for the nobleman, the supreme leader who rarely was at his residence.

The nobleman's fields led to the permeant resting place, the cemetery, which was on a small hill to the west within the landowner's tree field, hidden among tall trees and marked the unique status and its holy aura. Today I confess my sins; there was barely a funeral which I did not participate in (almost all did), but all because of my attraction to that wonderful place more so than a feeling of obligation to the deceased. Those green fields, the fruit gardens, the scent, all induced in me a lively spirit and joy. As a rambunctious boy I dared to pick fruits on the side of the road, apples red and fresh from the landowner's gardens, although they were fenced and guarded. I returned home more than once with tattered trousers and scratch marks on my palms as my heart beat in fear of the barking dogs.

On my way back from there, I would sneak a peek at the large wood chipper and the motorized flour mill which was in operation nearly 24 hours a day, illuminated by blinding electrical lighting. I liked to listen to the sound of the motors and watch he movement of the peasants who stood in line with wagons filled with wheat and barley for milling for self–consumption. The scent of the chipped pine trees was pleasant and intoxicated my senses.

Not far from the farm, on the left side, was the town firehouse. The firemen were local Christians volunteers. Their uniforms were colorful, and they wore shiny copper hats.

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They extinguished fires which were common to the area, and in their free time practiced playing wind and percussion instruments. There was not a festivity or ceremony they did not participate in. The Jewish youth could only watch them and listen to them, but not be one of them. I liked listening to their rehearsals and in my heart, I envied them and cursed them.

On the road, more inwardly and widely spread, were the public institutions like the elementary school, the local council building, and the courts. It was interesting is that those institutions operated at the edge of town and not at its center, as Jews mostly populated the town proper. The non–Jewish residents resided mostly at the edges of town but not in its center. What symbolized the Cristian control of the town was the church and its uniquely elevated dome, also at the edge of town a large cross atop it. It was a nuisance of the market center which was surrounded by a large square of Jewish homes and businesses. Later, gentile–owned operated there as well. Those businesses were mostly restaurants and pubs which spread a scent of alcohol and fried pork at night, much to the dismay of Jews. After those businesses closed for the night, Jews governed the whole town. When boys reached the age of compulsory enlistment in the Polish military, it was customary to impose on oneself a weight–loss regime, in the hopes it would harm their health to evade enlistment by failing medical examinations. Boys of that age did not only fast, but also let loose for whole nights in the town's streets, shouting, singing, and occasionally fighting.

One of the mischiefs perpetrated by youths during those nights was rearranging the business signs. The next morning, one could find a sign in Polish declaring the sale of pork placed atop the lavatory in the square, and a sign for a Jewish business hanging atop a gentile's pub.

The town square was the center of the town's economic life. On market days and holidays, the square was filled with people and livestock who arrived in large crowds from the neighboring villages. Chaos was prevalent during those days. Drunks rolled around in every corner. Violent disputes were abundant. If fate dictated that one was to be stabbed by his foe's knife, he likely died public in that square. The chaos increased in such circumstances. I remember one market day when some village leader was knifed to death by a local Christian mercenary. The chaos, escape, and fear which ensued did not deter us, the youth, from approaching and looking at the victim's severed stomach whose guts spilled out.

The unemployed Jewish youth gathered in the square and wasted time. You could find them near a kiosk or some other business, calculating the end of days and waiting for Ge'ulah, or debating important issues.

The streets and buildings in the town were not unique in any sense nor architecturally impressive . Dirt roads led in all directions from the market square. Those were the streets and alleys of the town, occupied by wooden houses surrounded by fenced yards. They were home to the Jews

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Including their large families, grandparents, goats, and chickens, and in certain homes also cows and horses. When it rained, the streets were muddied and with puddles, and during the cold winter they were covered in head–high snow.

Before I made aliya, the first road was paved, on the main road which led north to Lublin. Then, a bus line which traveled daily to Lublin and back was founded. That bus was a novelty and a big attraction to the locals. It opened a larger window to the outside world through which civilization began entering. At roughly the same time, electrical lighting supplied by the flour mill was installed in the homes, gardens were planted, some brick houses were built, and there was a feeling of change. I do not know what caused that. Was it an enlightened council chairman? I cannot recall one single public effort which benefitted the Jews until then. What I do remember was tax collection and business permit enforcement, which were done with much force and no public service in exchange. There was no sewer, no roads, no sidewalks or anything of the like, and the change was sudden.

The Jews did not expect nor wait for services. Suffice it to say they never dared to request anything substantial. Their demands were minimal. If there was no light, one walked in the dark or carried a flashlight. The rain and storms cleaned the unfenced areas. The trash was somehow absorbed in the ground. If one became ill, divine help was prayed for. Meanwhile, the ill person was cared for with warm chicken soup or used cures based on grandmother's advice, or summoned the local doctor, the fletcher (medic.) The medic also had to work as a hairdresser[?] and when he could not make due with that, his wife contributed as a midwife. As most mothers received assistance from the experienced elderly women, the fletcher turned to liquor to drown his sorrows. After that, nobody used his services.

He was a character, the healer, “Leiser der Fletcher” he was called, a tall handsome man. I do not know how that man came to be in that town. He was a living symbol of the disregard showed by the locals towards modern medicine. Even when someone was very ill they did not want to summon a doctor. First, a minyan was gathered which recited Psalms and prayed for the life of the ill. Or a few people stood by the ark, opened it, and wept bitterly and loudly. Those sights always depressed me, but miraculously, most of the sick healed without the aid of a doctor or medic. Nature immunized people and selected them at a young age and people were strong and healthy. There was also another practitioner with the title of doctor, but only the wealthy used his services, and they were scarce. The common folk trusted their God or ran to the rebbe and handed him a note (a kvittel), received the blessings. Sometimes they also got a talisman which worked occasionally and elevated the rabbi's prestige to new heights.

Thus, the public had no need special services from the local authorities. They thanked God for not intervening with excessive taxes, repossessions, disrupting business, nor with the autonomous administration of the community.

The municipality was represented in town by a Jewish resident who was somewhat of a tribe leader who was the point of contact between the authorities and the residents. A sign, “village leader” (in Polish) was placed by his house. All government

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inquiries were done through him. He also supplied his services to the authorities but remained loyal to his tribe. When he learned about a plot forming against someone, he warned him ahead of time. His name was Isaac Obroweys and had a son who was the apple of his eye. The son was among the first members of the Zionist pioneering movement in the town. He has been in Israel for the past 30 years and is a member of Kibbutz Alonim (Yisrael Amir.)

C. Economics in town

Town residents depended on regional peasants for income. Some also made a living from one another. Most income was drawn from the market days or Christian holidays. Every Thursday, a regular market day took place, and a few times a year there were also large fairs. On fair days, merchants from more distant places also arrived. During that time, many peasants and merchants gathered in town. The farmers brought their produce and traded it for essential items needed at home or in the field. Between each deal, they gathered in the pubs and drank.

The Jewish merchants and some Christian ones supplied everything and purchased everything. There was much preparation for market days. All prayed for a successful market day, because weekly income of most residents depended on it. If it was a pleasant day and the roads were dry, many arrived at the market and much was traded. However, if it was a rainy day and the roads were poor, income was scarce and sadness common. All depended on the heavens, which were not always charitable. Trading took place in stores or temporary booths.

The livestock market was separate and located at the northern entrance of town. That market drew my attention. The mixture of man and animal was a living picture of the atmosphere of the entire region. They depend on each other; the animal was the main tool, the dominant mode of transportation, and sometimes food. Man and animal worked alongside one another to provide a humble income for the peasant.

The land was very fertile. It had rich soil, evergreen forests, many fruit trees, whose fruits fell on the side of the road with little attention paid to them. Much grew and expanded in that agricultural area. Wondrously, the peasant was impoverished and had little money, but a few noblemen and landowners controlled most of the land and wealth. Most of the population leased land as a reward for the backbreaking labor. I began understanding that only once I matured, and only then did I understand why that country experienced very little independence in its history. Its neighbors always resented it, and it was subject to invasions, wars, and bloodshed, much of it due to its agricultural wealth and potential. As the people were divided and resentful, it could not be sustained for long. In that hateful and violent environment, Jewish communities existed in segregated clusters and always scapegoated.

Interpersonal contact and business ties between the Jews and the mass of peasants was operational if the city folk or the wealthy village intelligentsia did not sic them on the Jews. In times

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of peace, trade and business proceeded in a manner that benefited both sides. One bought, another sold and they shook hands giddily and playfully. The peasant loved his animal and had a difficult time parting with it. When the transaction has completed, a bottle of vodka was shared and they patted each other on the back as they said goodbye, the peasant with tears in his eyes and the Jew was happy. Those sights captured my heart, although I could not explain it to myself at the time.

Agricultural products purchased from the peasants were a small portion of local consumption. Most of it was exported goods to Lublin or Warsaw. On the road, it passed through various middlemen, during market days and fairs in other towns and cities. Thus, the command of King David, “go and sustain one another” was fulfilled. The trading of such products was mostly done by Jews and included grains, chickens, eggs, etc. The Jewish merchant also supplied the peasant with work tools, cooking utensils, oils, spices, premade clothes, footwear, furniture, writing utensils, home improvement tools, and professional services. In most cases, the merchant was also the manufacturer.

The main professions among the Jews were tailors, seamstresses, cobblers, porters, locksmiths, and hatters. They manufactured their own products and sold them on market days. The only professions in which few Jews were employed were construction and blacksmith. I do not remember a Jewish blacksmith in my area who cast horseshoes, nor a construction worker building homes. I remember a great and admired Jew from a neighboring town who was specially invited to repair and reconstruct the crumbling synagogue roof which was a carefully detail. Baking was also the dominated by Jews, aside from one gentile named Polski who competed in quality of product and had a developed business sense. He conducted his business at his home near the church in order and style which was the envy of Jewish merchants. He was a wealthy gentile and conducted decent business also with part of the Jewish population. If I recall correctly, he was not involved in local politics.

After bicycle riding became popular, the two Yaffe brothers repaired and sold bikes. A third brother owned writing utensils kiosk near the church and was also the only one to deal in musical instruments. They were enthusiastic Zionists, and the progressive Zionist youth gathered around them. One could always find they had some “forbidden” book to read. To the youth, they symbolized progress.

There were 10 families who operated the Lublin line. Coaches departed twice weekly since the 50 km journey to Lublin was lengthy. It was a journey full of obstacles and adventure with stops at roadside inns. The road was entirely dirt. When it rained, you would drown in the mud, and the winter absorbed by snow. The passengers served mainly to help the horses pull the wagon or pushing it through puddles and mud. When the morning finally arrived, and the destination was reached, it was difficult to recognize the human form of passengers. The coachmen of the town were strong Jewish men who worked hard to provide for large families

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and their animals. They persisted in their work despite the difficulties. They provided well for their families and raised good children. One of them survived; a good Zionist, a veteran pioneer who currently teaches at a school in Nahariya. (Yaakov Avituv.)

Additionally, there were community servants whose income depended on it, from the synagogue custodian to the town rabbi. There was a small group of wealthy businessmen who represented town, as their business extended far beyond the town. They maintained business ties with the wealthy noblemen of the region. Among them were forest merchants, land leasers, and some in finance, foreign currency, and loans.

Work and business life was very well developed relative to the size of the town and its population, thanks to the rich land and the talented and diligent human resources of local Jews. Although income cannot be said to have been plentiful, it was always available, and only a few required community–financed welfare. A significant portion was wealthy and lived a life of abundance. Those families searched for arranged marriages for their sons and daughters with established high–class families from other towns.

Quite often, a lack in cash was felt, as all trade was done on credit. The merchant and craftsman required working capital but it was not difficult to obtain funds, whether as a low interest rate or a gemach loan. Two banks operated; one for crafts and the other a general gemach, and financial matters were generally stable. It was only difficult when a zero–return expenditure was needed, like a dowry for a daughter or an unexpected expense, but there too things worked out. People worked hard, so they knew to value pennies and saved them when possible. The humble lifestyle and the low demand for luxuries enabled saving for a rainy day.

D. Lifestyle

Every adult resident worked to provide for himself or his family. When trading, he was almost always helped by his wife and older children. The family unit was whole in all aspects. On many occasions, families continued living together after a son or daughter married. The prime authority was in the hands of the patriarch.

The hardest working and most admired figure was the matriarch. She was the first to rise and the last to go to bed. She was usually the wonderful figure described in “Woman of Valor:” “The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her…She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household,” etc. etc. It is the same song that the husband sang to his wife when he returned home on Shabbat night after he greeted Queen Sabbath. The Jewish mother in the town was like that. She rose literally while it was still night, kindled stoves and ovens, and prepared food and clothes. After that, the husband went to the morning prayers at the synagogue, or when not possible

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prayed at home wrapped in a tallit and wearing tefillin. Each at his own pace and words; one thanked his God for his blessing from the day before and asked for his blessings for the starting day. The boys and girls also woke early and prayed and helped the mother. Young girls went to the municipal school. Young boys ran to their various Torah teachers or to the beth midrash to study. Working youths started their day. Activity was everywhere and there was much work to be done.

The household was based upon purchasing only base materials: wheat was bought and ground, or firewood chopped. There were also lumberjacks and water deliverymen who did so for a living. In the basement there were flour sacks for baking, and fruit and potatoes collected during the season. There were various pickled vegetables and baked goods prepared by the housewife. Strings of dried fruit hung in the attic. Under piles of straw, you could find softening pears. Straw was gathered during the season to feed the household livestock. Whoever had a cow supplied milk for himself, and you could find clay jugs full of milk for cream, cheese, and butter in almost every home. There were several chickens which laid eggs in the yard and fully or partially supplied the household's consumption of eggs. During the spring or summer, the children gathered eatable plants while the cattle grazed in natural grazing lands or while on a walk. In the nearby woods, wild mushrooms and strawberries were gathered. I can still taste those strawberries in cream. When the cabbage ripened in the fields, household members crushed and pickled it. When the barrel was full, it was covered with a heavy rock and left to freeze over winter. It was very sour cabbage served as a side with meat. When radishes were ripened they too were pickled and put aside for cooking on holidays or other days.

The matriarch ruled over all those activities. She planned, knew the seasons for each item, worked and supervised, and bore children without too many calculations or pampering. She raised them, educated them, cared for them, and put them on the right path. If the patriarch was the protector and provider, the mother was the supreme authority. Decisions were based on her will. If she became ill, God forbid, chaos ensued in household operation and the pattern of life was disrupted. But she was immune and rarely sick.

After morning prayers and breakfast, the businesses opened. The workshops were open all day and closed in the evening in time for prayers. The mother and her daughters worked at home doing laundry, cleaning, repairing clothes, cooking, and baking. The store owner was glued to his store, the craftsman to his workshop. The merchant left at dawn for the area villages to trade with the peasants or landowners.

After the workday was over, the men gathered once more at the synagogue to pray and study a page of Talmud or at the very least to listen to those teaching or studying. At that same time, the mother prepared dinner at home, which was the main meal of the day. After the meal ended, in the calm atmosphere of the neat home, everyone continued personal interests and personal hobbies. The progressive youth gathered in the various youth movements. The studying youth returned to the beth midrash.

The girls who did not take part in the youth movements, meaning most girls, met their friends at homes and spent time in discussion, reading a book or doing homework, etc. After a full day of hard work, the matriarch was busy with her hobbies which were the small chores like knitting, repairing socks, ironing, making raisin wine for shabbat and the like. At about 9–10 everyone went to bed for the night. Neighbors met in the summers at the front of the houses and in yards, and during winters by the fireplace. Things continued that way until the market day, when the noise increased, and life became a bit more energetic and active. Everyone worked for success that day. As stated, that day determined the joy levels for shabbat. When that day was over, the weekdays were essentially over too.

The preparations for shabbat began on Thursday evenings. “the vigilant are early in the performance of mitzvot,” and it was also necessary to hurry, as everything was self–prepared and there was much work. At sundown, mother prepared the dough to rise and be ready to bake at night. That same evening, chickens were slaughtered, or meat purchased and prepared, Intestines were cleaned. Almost in every Jewish home a stew (cholent) was placed in the heated oven overnight. The atmosphere was active and uplifting. All women in the family participated in kneading the dough and baking cakes, challah, and cookies of all sorts. The scent of baking spread warmly and sweetly. Whole wheat or barley bread was baked to be used throughout the week. When the baking was completed, the meat–filled pots and cholent were placed in the oven which was sealed until Shabbat.

Friday was devoted mainly to completing and summing up the work of the entire week, purchasing missing goods, a thorough cleaning of the house and the yard, debt repayment, haircuts, etc. As noon approached, businesses began to close, and men made their way to the bathhouse and in the summer also to the river. A rushing movement could be felt on the streets. Fathers returned from the bathhouse with their sons, thoroughly clean, red–cheeked, and wet–haired with an aura of calmness and satisfaction. Everything was cleaned and polished that day; human, animal, home, and farm. One waited for shabbat like a groom waiting for his bride, and Shabbat is referred to as a queen for a reason. You felt that the preparation was being made for a large and very important matter, the most important in the lives of each community member. Shabbat was a day of release and rest for all. That day, the Jew departed from earthly matters and ascended to holy purity.

As I look back on those days, I understand the meaning of the “extra soul” which was added to a person on that holy day, an unfortunately meaningless term in our modern world today.

One cannot understand it ever if he did not witness shabbat. Family members walked together on late Friday afternoon to the synagogue, wearing their best clothes. They shined with a light of happiness, prayed, and sang. They returned home joyously and greeted shabbat in their illuminated home with the whole family and often a guest at the set table.

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Hymns echoed from every home in sweet voices. He who did not feel the elevation of the spirit and the calmness of the soul will never comprehend it.

I am a non–practicing Jew today. However, I believe that shabbat and holidays observed happily and willfully by most diaspora Jews motivated them in foreign lands. It encouraged them to be, and to develop an independent life within the dark exile rife with blind hatred for a period of roughly 2000 years. It lasted until the cruelest destroyer in human history rose and erased it all within a few years in an ocean of blood and indescribable suffering.

E. The Jewish Institutions

Community matters were governed by an elected or appointed council in which all classes were represented. The tone was always determined by the wealthy and respectable. The council collected taxes and covered the expenses of the community servants and supplied the remaining needs of the community. It also represented the community when dealing with the municipality, maintained a gemach fund, and was involved in local politics.

I recall conflicts between various sects and the town rabbi who was always a factor in those disputes. The “middle class” belonged mostly to the sect of the rabbi's father. For some reason, the other Hassidim and the studious, the town's “elite,” did not value the rabbi and his son and bothered them often. They did not need their assistance, not in questions nor advice. Most were very learned and were proud of it. At one point, as I recall, they brought a second competing rabbi. The partisanship made the town livelier. All residents participated in that fight, and passionately debated and argued between services.

The central institution was the beth midrash. It served not only for prayer and Torah study, but also the main cultural and social gathering place of the community on most days of the year. One met friends there, listened to lectures, and studied Torah and wisdom. Community matters or other important matters were debated. There, one found the enlightening atmosphere, where one was together and felt a sense of belonging to the community and their experiences, found solace from the troubles at home, spirits were elevated, and one felt secure within the community. All joys and sorrows were concentrated in that holy abode.

Near the beth midrash was the other synagogue which was partially destroyed in WWI. It was a large, tall brick building with tall columns supporting a giant dome. In my mind's eye I pictured the destruction of that building to the destruction of the Temple. The building was abandoned and broken. When we were young, we feared ghosts and demons, so we did not enter. I do not know why the community leaders left that magnificent building in its abandonment all those years. It is likely the community fund could not budget for reconstruction.

I remember that before I left home, a Jewish craftsman and his son from a neighboring town constructed a very large wooden dome in the synagogue yard. They were considered excellent wood artist and were in high demand for tasks of that nature. I forgot their names, but I do recall the lean

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and noble face and the pointy beard and sidelocks of the artist. He was very religious, and I perceived him as a remnant of the Levite tribe. He worked on measuring and assembling arks since dawn, and in the evening, the parts of the dome seemed like one piece.

Around those two buildings was a gated yard where the youth spent all day. In that same yard, wedding ceremonies took place, and from there the funeral processions began. It was also where the faithful danced on Simchat Torah and where they mourned the destruction of the Temple on Av 9.

The second center was the rebbe's estate. It was crowded only on shabbat and holidays or when the rebbe visited town. There was the spacious residence of the town rabbi, a synagogue, a large yard, and the rebbe's followers visited it often.

In addition, there were also the small Hasidic synagogues the “shtiblech” of the Ger sect, the Trisk sect, and more.

The progressive youth had the various youth movements; HaKhalutz, HaShomer HaTzair, Betar, General Zionists, Hapoel Hamizrachi, and the Bund.

Time was abundant. The day was devoted to work and trade and the night to social gatherings or Torah study. The residents of town did not travel often, and if someone left town it was a short trip to arrange a marriage or on business. Wondrously, boredom was not felt and even in such a limited lifestyle one found an interest in what existed and in one another.

F. Cultural Life

People thirsted for knowledge. The majority studied Torah as a reward of its own. Study also included much Hasidic literature, Zohar and kabbalah. There was a large and often used library of Torah literature and at the beth midrash. Mishna, Talmud, and poskim, were the most widely used. Maimonides' philosophy was also studied and many traveled with his Guide for the Perplexed as if it was their own. One could find young devoted scholars discussing the creation of the universe and its purpose. The bible was scarcely studied, and many did not have proficient knowledge of it. The knowledge they had of the bible was from the study of Talmud or the recitation on shabbat and holiday. Folks studied a daily page of Talmud or a chapter of Mishnah.

The progressive youth secretly read “banned books” and expanded their knowledge of Zionist or socialist literature. Marx's Capital was covertly passed from person to person and people studied it and were well versed. The primary newspapers arrived in town almost daily and were read cover to cover. The Zionists read Haynt, the progressive merchants read Moment etc. each with his own paper. The Nasz Przegląd was also delivered and people were aware of world evets. Of course, the town did not have a theater, movie theater, radio, and the like. All knowledge was drawn from newspapers, books, lecturers, or a guest from out–of–town who stopped for the night. The youth movement had amateur theater companies, and during festive events produced various plays for their members from Jewish or biblical folklore. During Purim, some youth movements or individuals would wear a well–designed costume and portray biblical heroes

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accompanied by music, song, and dance. For instance, The Sale of Joseph, which brought much joy to all. In general, holidays were celebrated with much festivity, with special decorations, unique dress, and special foods, all fitted for the holiday and one's traditions. During those days, it was hard to tell the rich from the poor. Everyone had a happy royal face. Every festive event like a circumcision, bar mitzvah, or wedding brought joy to the whole town. Everyone was like one family. The weddings especially were celebrated joyfully, and every wedding had a jester and a local Jewish band who played and joked until they ran out of steam.

G. Figures

Every resident without exception was a unique figure. There were many characters, and a talented artist could find much material to draw, sculpt, or write. They were rare and dear figures. But where is the memory and talent that could illustrate it? Not one figure was absent from the town. It even had its own meshumad, named Eliezer. He was a convert for spite. He drew special satisfaction from standing in the synagogue yard and biting into a treif sausage in front of everybody. He was disparaged and isolated. It was told he returned like that from the military after WWI ended. But he was an anomaly. The favorite figures were among the scholars, community activists, craftsmen, the coachmen, the public servants, in short from all types and classes. The figures still exchanged in my mind are the two Shochetim of the town, a lovely pair. Two short–statured elderly men, with an appearance evoking honor who were respected by all. They were also the circumcisers, and never departed from Torah study. One of them, R' Isaac of blessed memory, was a courteous man of the Hillel worldview, with a musical sense, and an addition to his official roles also led services on shabbat and holidays. He had a pleasant and awakening voice. He knew many hymns and songs, some of which he composed. At his side, was a mixed choir of old and young and when they led services prayer was divine and enjoyable. All his grandchildren were in his choir, although they were progressive and dabbled in Zionism. One of them is our friend Moshe Gutvirtz who is here with us,

The second, R' Yitzchak, was of a stark expression of the Shamai worldview. I do not recall his children. He always leaned over large Talmud volumes and studied day and night. He was our neighbor and when I had to pass by his house I was careful to not make any noise, fearing rebuke. In my mind, he and his wife were a pair of doves who were always with each other; he studied and she served him readily and devotedly. The two shochtim were community servants and Torah scholars. Nobody knows where they came from and how they were rooted in town. They were cherished figures who were like two pearls in a Torah crown.

-The chief town rabbi was Rabbi Mordechai Veisbrot, son of the Turobin Rebbe. That is what the Rebbe was called even though he resided in Kraśnik. He was a man of the people and his disciples were the common folks in town and neighboring towns. He had a majestic appearance and the pronounced figure of a rebbe, as I remember. He often visited town and stayed with his son. There, he led his table in the traditional Hasidic manner. As a boy, I was very impressed by him. I anxiously observed the Hasidim who gathered en masse.

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Our town looked like hundreds of other towns in Poland. I did not know them all, but those I visited resembled our own. The large square was surrounded by hundreds of homes pressed together with their entrances facing the market square and mostly used as stores. To the question “how can there be so many stores? Who were the customers?” the answer would be the area peasants who came to buy their products in town. That was the way by us and in the nearby towns Goraj, Frampol, Janów, Modliborzyce and all the towns I visited in my youth,

Market Day

One day a week, regional peasants from villages near and far gathered to sell their produce and buy from the Jews. Most trading was of products manufactured by the Jews like shoes, clothes, ropes, saddles, sewing items and products brought by coachmen from Lublin such as kerosene, salt, herring, sugar, etc. There were Jews who owned pubs and on market days peasants gathered in their houses to drink alcohol between purchase and sale. That was the world of Christians and Jews who peacefully coexisted and respected one another, for instance, on shabbat, no peasant came to try to buy something. Similarly, Jews did not travel to the villages to buy anything on Sunday. Many years passed like that, since the day the first Jew settled in the town.

by his door with notes in their hands written by an assistant and how they left his room glowing with hope and happiness. His son, the town rabbi, had a majestic appearance, but he was likely not the most studious. Because of that deficiency, the scholarly Hasidic “nobility” in the town plotted against him at every turn. That was expressed by their appointment of competing rabbinate, and a persistent dispute with him and his followers. I was always revolted by that atmosphere. However, truth is it was an inseparable part of community life which activated and sparked spirit and absent that, boredom would likely wreak havoc.

Every figure could be described but the obstacle ridden memory and time left their marks. Etched I my memory are those from the Hasidic sects and the beth midrash attendees of which I was one. There were cherished Jews and picturesque figures, the bedrocks of the community. Mainly the common working folks among the coachmen, bakers, tailors, cobblers etc. and the various merchants. Their images appear before me in their glory, but unfortunately, I cannot describe them on paper.

All I have left to say is: We mourn those who were lost but not forgotten.

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The elders said that the town existed from the time of Casimir the Great. The chronicles of the town were never recorded. And if someone handwrote it, I have not read it. Our town was different from others in that at the center of town there was a large cross which was visible almost from every Jewish home, to remind and remember the nation of the land and who really controlled it. A few times a year, the Christians had processions near that cross, and during that procession from the church to the cross it was dangerous for a Jewish child to be seen in the street or near the cross.

At the southwest corner of the square there was the wall of the Great Synagogue destroyed during WWI. I heard many conversations by respectable people about the reconstructing of the synagogue who said, “If we will be fortunate to rebuild the synagogue, the messiah will arrive.” Of course, we children awaited the moment the synagogue will be built. One evening, between the afternoon and evening prayers, R' Yisroel Mordechai ascended the stage at the beth midrash and said, “My Jewish brethren, it has been many years that our synagogue, the gem of our community, is standing in ruins as we sit at home and enjoy life. Why are we not ashamed? May each contribute according to his ability so we can begin construction.” R' Yisroel Mordechai's words were well–received by the community, many contributions were made, and a date was set to begin construction. We children were very happy. It was no small matter; A) we will be rid of the ghosts and demons who float around the synagogue at night in the synagogue area and B) They will most likely remove the stretcher used to carry the dead to the cemetery from the synagogue yard, and the taharah board will be gone from the destroyed synagogue's gate. And most of all, the messiah will arrive once construction was completed. Five years later, the construction was completed but we were not fortunate to see the messiah, nor were the burial society's utensils removed from the synagogue yard.

And we, who until then feared to pass by the synagogue, still feared when its repair was completed. Not only were we not redeemed, but the state of the Jews worsened. Hate crimes against Jews increased. The National Polish Party declared an economic boycott. Their slogan was “Do not buy from the Jew!” The very fact that a public institution publicly declared a boycott on Jews was enough to awaken hatred within the Polish people and consequences followed.

There were occasional acts of murder. Once, R' Fischel Kopf from a neighboring village was attacked and murdered. I still remember it as if it was today. It was between the afternoon and evening prayers. R' Fischel's sons began bitterly weeping, and the rumor of Fischel's murder quickly spread in the synagogue, which was packed. Fischel's sons recited kaddish as they choked back tears, among them his little son who stood on a chair and recited kaddish. I cried too, as did many in the audience. Many years passed, and those bad omens were forgotten, and life returned to its normal course. Jews were also involved in social and economic life of the area to come to the correct conclusions.

Yet, occasionally, Jews began about emigrating to the Holy Land. However, most talk was not translated into deeds, aside from a few

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who left town and made aliya and are currently with us in Israel. That awakening and the emigration of a few were also forgotten by most. Only the youth remembered, and the prayers we recited each day did not remain as words alone, as we began to comprehend the meaning of galut, although the non–Jewish locals tolerated the Jews aside from the occasional uprising.

The Youth and the Aging

The awakening which began a few years following the Balfour Declaration took root in the hearts of the youth which began to organize around the Tarbut Library. The leaders of the youth were Yitzchak Feder, Yaakov Leib Yaffe, and Shmuel Abba Gitwortz.

Those who got involved in public Zionist work had a tough decision–making process. The aging, who were usually very devout, were not neutral and almost decreed that nobody rent a room to the criminals who were forcing the End of Days and unifying in Zionist groups. I do not know who initiated that, but even the rabbi, Mordechai Veisbrod of blesses memory, who was a pious Jew and tended to be more compromising, joined the detractors. Wealthy homeowners probably initiated the leasing boycott against Tarbut Union. After exhausting negotiations, Azriel the carpenter agreed to lease his workshop to us which became a meeting place for the youth at night. The winter was rough, income decreased, and many began blaming the Tarbut youth of incurring the wrath of God, and ‘who knows what else the Zionist criminals will bring to town.’ There were Jews who decided to eliminate the library using many tactics. One of those tactics was forbidding their sons and daughters to attend meetings.

Many tragedies affected almost every family, and the parents fully believed the library was leading to apostasy, God forbid. The first winter with the Tarbut library passed and spring arrived. As opposed to the rest of the world, in which spring symbolized the renewal of nature and man, in our town, early spring was when large swamps began to form. They were frozen all winter and as the snow melted the dirt began to thaw as well and the stench rose. Due to the swamps, the days before Passover saw the peasants absent from the town and the shop owners idled in front of their shops, yawning in boredom.

R' Yerachmiel Bronshpigel passed his hands through his beard and said, “Gentlemen! we see clearly that all the troubles have come upon us because of the criminals and the library. It disseminates those books among our sons and daughters, who day and night read what is forbidden and improper. Why are we still silent? We need to begin a holy war. Otherwise, this anarchy will rule us and who knows what will be of our sons and daughters?” R' Yerachmiel words made a strong impression on the audience. Some attendees, mainly the Ger Hasidim, gathered in corners to contemplate. The craftsmen gathered at the tables by the southern wall of the synagogue, not far from the door and listened to R' Yerachmiel. R' Shalom Fleischer then addressed the Jews

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and said, “Tell me, people, why does R' Yerachmiel care that the youth is reading books? Where in the Torah does it say that it is forbidden to read books that our wisemen wrote in our time and ancient times?” R' Barak the tailor, who was a good man whom I think never once in his life forgot to pray and recite psalms, said, “let us ask someone who knows Torah, and learn.” They both approached R' Mordechai the teacher who was known as a great scholar. R' Mordechai contemplated and said, “it is written, ‘You shall not do as they do’ and it is also written, ‘you shall meditate therein day and night.’ If one must mediate on Torah day and night then there is no time left to study other books.” By the facial expressions of R' Shalom and R' Barak I understood the answer they received was not to their liking. They returned to their table.

That took place between afternoon and evening prayers on the week of Purim. The members of Tarbut, led by Yitzchak Feder, prepared to present the play “Joseph in Egypt.” The synagogue swarmed like a beehive. Everybody talked about the event scheduled for Passover. The members of Tarbut were also at the synagogue, but the Ger Hasidim were not bold enough to approach and start a debate, as they knew they would be defeated. They therefore limited their activity to talking and shouting about the fire burning in town which may burn it all down. The leader of the incited speakers was, as stated, R' Yerachmiel of blessed memory. He was followed by other notables like R' Shmelki Drumler of blessed memory. He was a well–natured Jew, studious and a skilled businessman whose entire presence, even his appearance, demanded respect. His wide face constantly bore a smile, his long silvering beard was long, and he wore a tall Jewish hat and an Atals velvet kapota. He never fought anybody. After he heard R' Yerachmiel, he stood for a second and contemplated, as if to say, “calm down, Yerachmiel, anger is idolatry. What needs to be done must be done sensibly and mercifully. ‘Even when Jews sin, they are still Jews.’” R' Shmelki spoke as he saw spirits were heating around the “Treater” [theater?]

The youths gathered to the west of the synagogue stage not far from the craftsmen who cast doubt that Yerachmiel's war on the youth was indeed a holy one or whether a hidden political motive was at play. Hidden political agendas were frowned upon based on precedent; in our town there we the shtiblech, small synagogues of the Ger, Trisk, and Kraśnik hasidim. A Jewish man appeared in town and convened for a long time with the Ger Hasidim. The public then learned that the man was an envoy from Agudath Yisrael, and all the shtiblech became branches of Aguddah, almost against the will of most of parishioners. Thus, the common Jews were suspicious and hated politics and served as the neutral backbone of Tarbut members in town. Those common men smiled covertly as they saw others fuming over the Passover play. R' Melech the carpenter expressed approval of the youth and said, “they are great men. My wife and I will be the first to go to the treater.” Of course, many common folks awaited the play which they have heard of since it was also produced in large Polish cities.

The sun warmed the muddy dirt. Gradually, dry paths that could be skipped were seen. Occasionally,

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peasants were seen coming to town to buy goods and Jews began baking matzah. There was a group of Jews by the well drawing water for shmurah matzah. R' Shmelki Drumler of blessed memory stood among the Jews, drew water and played with the edges of his girdle, deep in thought. R' Shmelki always thought and had what to think about. His household was not whole, as his youngest daughter, Chantche, was an active member in Tarbut, and not just that, she was a friend of the committee member, Yitzchak Feder, an energetic man of action. The rumor in town was that he swore an oath that during his lifetime his daughter will not marry Yitzchak, who was considered in town to be a heretic and the disseminator of Zionism and its culture. R' Shmelki's contemplation stopped as Jews debated who should bake the matzah; R' Leibish ben Baruch or someone else. By the way, the debate interested me as well, as R' Leibish ben Baruch Cooper was my uncle and sometimes I helped in placing the matzah in the oven before Passover, not the shmurah matzah but the plain kind. The large business of shmurah was reserved to the Hasidim.

As sated, shortly before Passover, the mud began to dry but in some alleys the mud lasted long after Passover. If it was a cold year, even two weeks after Passover. The muddiest was the butchers' street on the route to the flour mill. There, it was good if one party to the conversation lived opposite the other and could be heard clearly from a distance. If the conversation partner lived farther away, for instance from R' Shalom Fleischer to R' Henik Fleischer, 200 meters, the voices of those conversing could be heard from a great distance. Conversations were mostly about livelihood, taxes and the like, and at times abut arranging marriages. There were many marriages to arrange as they had many descendants, who were strong as bulls. Most married according to their class and profession. If there was no suitable partner within town, a groom was brought from a neighboring town. There were occasions in which Jews wanted to marry people of a different profession, in which case the father promised a substantial dowry and fund the couple for a few years until the young man was able to have his own business and make a living on his own.

In summer, the beth midrash men studied Talmud, be it independently or with a study partner. If someone studied and could not grasp the concepts or had a difficult time, he would ask R' Chaim Yosef or R' Alter Scherf. R' Chaim Yosef, who sat on the eastern side of the synagogue near the ark, was asked complex difficult questions, and R' alter was asked simpler questions. We honored R' Alter very much as it was rumored he was a Tzadik Nistar. And where did we get that from? It was told in the beth midrash that when he was young, he served several years in the Russian army and in all those years kept kosher. Even after being so cautious, he was still not certain that he adhered to kashrut, so he avoided many foods and lived on salted bread and water. Lest you think other food was unavailable to him, his wife Zippah was a woman of valor and a great baker. Almost all the folks studying at the beth midrash bought her products, and R' Alter's home was close to the beth midrash. We were also amazed that we never saw R' Alter in casual conversation. Instead he would sit

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and study or pray in his corner. The Kraśnik Rebbe took him under his wing, and during the third meal of Shabbat honored him with the hymn of El Mistater.

R' Alter had a wonderful voice, his thin beard would shake as he sang, his eyes shut. The crowd was long silent and R' Alter continued as if he was floating in the heaves. Who knows, maybe he was. One day, a rumor spread that he had passed. Everyone wondered, “How? He was not even sick.”

There were many Jewish houses on the street near the synagogue. As the children matured and needed housing, the lots had not expanded and the town remined as was. Instead, another apartment was built in the yard, until the overcrowding was even greater and no passages remained, only narrow paths between each father's house. Such a home was that of R' Hirsh Leib Golberg of blessed memory whose property was separated from R' Pini Gewirtz on one side and R' Berish Gewertz's house on the other only by a narrow path. All three homes had balconies and shops facing the market square. The residents of those houses were, of course, the homeowner's household members.

R' Berish Gewertz had large family. I think he had three daughters and five sons. He was a God–fearing man, a wonderful singer, and a scholar. The town residents respected him very much due to his great traits. When he was bankrupted and had no income, community members sent their children to him to learn Torah and the Way of the World and compensated him well. That income was still not enough to support his family. God had bestowed upon him a woman of valor and she took responsibility for a large portion of the income. Thus, they made a living and married their daughters to good men of quality lineage and savvy businessmen. In that manner, for instance, the firstborn daughter married Leibel Gewirtz, R' Pini Gewirtz's granddaughter. They were probably related, since they had the same last name. R' Pini was a fabric salesman, a silent type, and he earned a reputation through town as a stingy man [although] he invited impoverished people to meals every shabbat, and those who entered his house hungry came out satisfied. The Goldberg house, as stated, was owned by R' Hirsh Leib. He was a serious man, tall, with a long grey beard. I have never seen him laugh, and even when my father of blessed memory would tell jokes, R' Hirsh hid a smile under his beard, as if to say, “we are in Exile and happiness is lost here.” His son Moshe “Toto” followed his exact path.

He was the son–in–law of R' Yitzchak the baker. His father–in–law was also tall and thin. R' Yitzchak always looked like he was just immersed in a mikveh, a sort of holy aura expressed on his face. He was also silent by nature. From the cellar of his bakery there was a constant chirping of crickets. It always seemed like R' Yitzchak maintained some big secret. Once, on Tisha'a B'av as we walked to the cemetery, we saw him waling quickly ahead of us, so that we had to run. And why did we follow him? To discover his secret, as it was said that R' Yitzchak disclosed his secret by the large tombstone of the mysterious man who was said to have renewed the Turobin community. Indeed, R' Yitzchak walked directly to the tombstone above the holy grave and talked as if to himself. He asked the deceased to

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be a messenger to God, to send a worthy spouse from his youngest daughter. We thought, “is this the secret he keeps? Is this the reason he never smiles, and is it worth it?” Yes, it was worth it, as his two sons–in–law Moshe ben Hirsh Leib and Shlomo Greenberg, were good, God–fearing men. R' Shlomo was a great scholar, and adhered to customs of Ger Hasidim but was uninvolved in politics. When the Zionist pioneers came to his son–in–law to ask for work, he proposed he let us chop wood for the bakery.

His recommendation did not always help the pioneers, who heeded the teachings of A. D. Gordon to value and love labor. They were unemployed for long periods of time and the chapter fund was empty. When someone wanted to make aliya, it was postponed because of the 200 zloty “Hakhalutz” headquarters required. It is possible that many of those who perished in the Holocaust would make aliya had the rich men of the time contributed support the olim. Instead, young men and women trained for several years but were unsuccessful in their aliya efforts. That in turn diminished the will of others to enter training. Some also left training as pessimism overtook most of the members hakhshara communities. The entrance to the Land was sealed, and illegal immigration efforts were yet to start, but we will discuss that at a different opportunity. We will return to describe our beloved brothers and sisters who perished in the awful Holocaust.

Shabbat and Holidays

If during the week the reality of the town was simple and concerned with income, it was unrecognizable on shabbat. The narrow streets were cleaned almost in front of every house. The aroma of cooking fish filled the air. From the early afternoon hours, the spirit of Shabbat was felt in the town. The town residents begin to prepare to greet Shabbat.

Jews and their sons hurried to the bathhouse at the east of town and returned with their faces blushing and beards and sidelocks still dripping with water. The bathhouse of Turobin is worth describing, as it was the only one in town and attended mostly by Jews. There were many reasons for that; the gentiles likely did not wat to mix with Jews, and Moshe “Bdr” was very adamant that everyone payed the entrance fee. Moshe instructed those entering to take a broom [?] and a wooden bucket, as without those utensils there was not much to do inside. My father would say the warm vapor and the broom were an effective method against illness and the higher the bench the better, and if one followed those rules his health was almost guaranteed. The Hasidim would come on Shabbat morning to immerse in cold water in the morning before prayers. Generations continued their ancestors' tradition in that manner.

As stated, during the weekdays, preoccupation was with livelihood matters which were surrendered to, but on shabbat all carried their Judaism proudly. Families marched to the synagogues with their heads held high. Almost all Jews passed through the square which was surrounded by the village homes, passing through to the previously ruined, now renovated grand synagogue. For instance, one could see rabbi Yeshayahu Shternfeld calmly walking on his long legs.

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R' Yeshayahu was a tall, Jewish man with a majestic appearance. It was rumored that when he painted his house he did not even climb on a chair to reach the ceiling. His wife, Pearly, would walk by his side, as did R' Moshe Shternfeld and R' Moshe Eisenberg from Yanov, grandson of the R' Isaac, a shochet and cantor who married R' Yeshayahu's daughter. From the northern corner of the alley, near the house of R' Reuvli the ropemaker, appeared his uncle R' Chanan Gutvilik, who was also called R' Chanan Jordan, since he was a very tall man and could cross the Jordan in one step. He and his son Yaakov and Chaim Hersh would walk slowly and calmly, as the tassels of their tallitot peaked under the long kapotas, fearing the eruv was torn in an unknown spot, making carrying the tallit on shabbat forbidden. R' Chanan was not the only one who did not carry his shawl, and most who were devout did so. And who in town was not devout? The closer to the synagogue, the more men were seen walking wearing velvet or silk kapotas. Some wore plain shabbat hats and others a velvet “samet” hat made by R' Leib the hatter. Leib did not have children and donated most of his fortune to writing a new Torah scroll, completed it, and majestically led it to the synagogue. The Jews who owned a velvet hat wore their hats atop the yarmulke which was also made of velvet and formed a double decker hat!

The Ger shtibel was hosted by my uncle R' Ozer Kleiner. He too was tall, wide–shouldered, and handsome. To this day, when I read the passage “from his shoulders and upward he was higher than any of the people,” I remember R' Ozer Kleiner. He was a kind man who was never angry, just pinched cheeks if he caught any of the children. The Ger hassidim prayed enthusiastically. They had full faith in their rebbe and traveled hundreds of kilometers to be in his presence for a few days. The prayers were led by R' Yisrael Mordechai's sons. God gifted all six sons and their father with wonderful voices. The Ger Hassidim's devotion to God and their pure and strong faith shined upon their families and their surroundings. Even those among them who were impoverished were happy. On Saturday night, the Hassidim held the Melaveh Malka meal. The food served was simple; onion seasoned herring and potatoes with radishes, and some liquor for l'chaim and happiness to accompany Queen Shabbat on her departure. During the meal, one of Ozer's sons gave a short Torah speech. Everyone was intoxicated by the sweet atmosphere and the memories of the Shabbat that had just departed. Eventually, someone began singing and everyone danced an enthusiastic Hasidic dance. Their extra souls still beat within them, as they were all dressed in their shabbat clothes and the weekday was yet to overtake them. Those Jews had a tough time parting with their extra soul, and they conformed to reality only because they had no choice.

No less than them were the Trisk Hassidim whose shtibel was hosted by R' Yehoshua Yennis Rosenfeld of blessed memory, an honest Jewish man who was faithful to his rabbi, Nachumtche of Trisk. R' Yehoshua's house also served as R' Nachumtche's lodging when he visited town. When he visited his disciples in Turobin, he met with his flock at R' Yehoshua's house, which was a large home with many rooms. Although his daughters Leah'tche and Sheindle were very friendly

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and were members of our youth group for a while, I still was not able to visit every room in that house. Not the whole house was R' Yehoshua Yennis' residence. As said, one room was he shtibel for Trisk Hasidim. It was a long room, on its eastern side was the ark, and in the middle of the room was a sloped table where the Torah was recited on Monday, Thursday, and Shabbat.

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