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The Krinkers were nicknamed “thieves”. The surrounding towns and cities also had their nicknames, such as: “Sokolker, the “Sibirnikes”[1]; Bialystoker, the “Cake Eaters”; Vashlikover, the “Goats”, Shishlevitser, the “Kozes”[2].
The Krinkers got their nickname because of the Jewish band of robbers called “Akhim” (brothers), because they were led by a couple of brothers.
These bandits used to rob transients, aristocratic residences and abandoned inns.
They also stole horses, and it was known that lost horses had to be searched for in Krynki. For many years the “Akhim” gang terrorized the whole area. It disappeared after several leaders either died, were sent to labor camps or to Siberia.
Those who remained had in the meantime “socially matured” and become quiet. They engaged in honest and decent work.
Krynki was a typical Jewish shtetl; the Jews lived in the center of town and the goyim more on the outer edge of the shtetl. Krynki was built like a kind of tire in the shape of a blossom. In the center was the marketplace, from which all the streets departed and intersected. It can be said that the shtetl and its streets were located at the feet of the marketplace.
The round built marketplace itself was in the center of three rings. In the first, (innermost) market ring lived many rich and “balebatish” people, and the hotel of the shtetl, which belonged to Itshe “Lya”, the nephew of my Grandpa, stood in the first row of the market houses. Quite a few of the shtetl's inns were also located there.
In the second ring, a bit away from the houses, there were “budkes“, wooden stalls that served as stores. In such a “budke” one could not hold much merchandise, and so usually only one or two items were sold.
Just behind the “budkes”, in the third ring, were the stores. All the trade of the shtetl
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was concentrated in the stores. These sold different goods, and one could not only get in them all that the townspeople needed, but also what the surrounding farmers needed.
Twice a week, on Sunday and Thursday, farmers usually brought goods from their villages to sell, and in return they took what they themselves needed. The merchants depended on the two market days, because they meant their main sales.
Twice a year, for one or two weeks, large fairs were held, which were attended not only by peasants from remote villages, but also by Jews from the surrounding towns.
Right in the middle of the market there was the “saray”, the shed. It contained all the utensils of the fire department for extinguishing a fire, the water hoses and the “batshes”, that is, the water barrels on two wheels, which had to be pulled to the fire.
At the market there was also the house of Khatskel the “Sheynker” (innkeeper), where all the weddings took place. The processions to the chuppah, the wedding canopy, that did not lead to the large synagogue (“cold shul”) took place in the open air[3], near the “Saray”.
At the foot of the market the streets crossed. All the main streets, except for Kavkazer, which began a little detached, originated at the market.
Krynki had about ten streets, except for the side streets and paths connected to the main streets. Each name of a street expressed its characteristic, for example:
“Tepershe (Pottery) Street”; pots were made there.
“Kantselyar Street”; there was the government office.
“Gabarske (Tanners') Street”; all the big tanneries were located there, “Potsht Street” (with the post office), etc.
The soil of the shtetl was productive and fertile. Krynki got its name because of the “Krenitses”, the springs of water, which rose there. Wherever one dug, one found watercourses.
Outside the city, where it went to the fields, there were many swamps. The earth around them was black and “fat”, and peat was cut from it, or, as the townspeople said, “torp”. This was used for heating.
It was a substitute for coal and was cheap to have, thus many houses were heated with peat.
The farmers supplied the peat. They cut the earth around the swamps into brick shapes. These bricks were dried and later brought to the city on carts for sale.
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In the shtetl, besides the “cold” shul, there were some bote-medroshim[4] and a few minyonim[5]. The most respected shtibl of the Hasidic people was that of the Slonimer, the other Hasidic dynasties such as the “Gerer”, “Kotsker” and “Kobriner” only formed minyonim. However, they were so few that they prayed in the misnagdic bote-medroshim. Unlike the Slonimer Rabbi, their Rabbis never came to Krynki, and only a few of the “Gerer” or “Kotsker” Hasids went to see their Rabbis when needed or on occasion.
Krynki also became famous for its great Rabbinical geniuses who occupied the position of Rabbi. Their names were Rabbi Avrohem Kharef[6], also called R' Avremtshik, Rabbi Borekh Lavski, zts”l[7], Rabbi Zalmen Sender, zts”l and the famous Rabbi Shapiro.
Besides its great and famous “moyre-hoyroes”[8], the city also boasted the great “tsadek“, the wise and righteous man, R' Yosele, z”l[9].
Ayzik -Benyamin Zeliks, a Jew, also came from Krynki. He pretended to be a “good yud”[10] and traveled around the Volhynia area. He was of very low descent and had hardly any schooling. However, in order to earn an income, he performed as a “good yud”. In the Volhynia area he was known and famous as a Bal-Moyfes, a miracle worker.
He was exposed, however, by a man from Krynki who came to the town of Volhynia on business just as Ayzik-Benyamin Zeliks was holding a Shabbat service there.
Out of curiosity, the Krinker went to the Hasidic shtibl to see the Rabbi the shtetl boasted about. There, however, he uncovered the hoax, and the “good yud” had to leave town.
After a few years, Ayzik-Benyamin Zeliks settled back in Krynki and went about the houses there begging.
Krynki was the only shtetl in the area that had its own klezmer band. For a few years it was the custom that on Friday evenings, at Parshe Beha'atlotkha[11], the musicians would play in the shul. However, when R' Borekh Stavski became the Rabbi in Krynki, he abolished this custom because the women often came home too late for the light blessing.
The leader of the music band was Moyshe Kreynes. He played the violin as his main instrument and also taught children who wanted to learn an instrument. His lessons were usually very loud, with him tapping the beat with his foot and yelling, “One, two, three! One, two, three!”
Jewish doctors had no luck in the shtetl. For example, there was a doctor Goldberg who was called “Lupatsh”[12] because
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he had a cleft lip. However, he was called to see a sick person only on Shabbat because one is not allowed to handle money on that day. Thus, he was rarely paid. Eventually, he escaped from the shtetl.
In the shtetl there was also a studied obstetrician, a Polish woman named “Stefanovtshekhe”, whose services were used mainly by the people who were more educated and wealthy. In the shtetl, however, it was customary to call for a delivery the Jewish midwife Miryam Rezyl, the daughter of Moyshe the Khazn (cantor). On Purim, she sent a ginger cake as shalekhmones[13] to the children she had helped into the world.
Some time ago she prevented a young Jewish woman who had studied obstetrics in Vilnius from settling in Krynki. She played such a mean trick on the daughter of Eliya the Mason that this graduate woman had to flee the city in the middle of the night and could not even take her tippet and graduate hat with her, with which she liked to dress up.
The Krinkers did not like cantors, they were considered like a fifth wheel. When a cantor did arrive in the shtetl, many of them even with fine and well-trained choirs, the Jews who wanted to hear him prayed in the first minyen and then went to the cantor just for entertainment, but not to pray with him.
However, even if the cantor had been the very best, he never got his money's worth. Usually, before he had finished his prayer chant, the Jews would contort their faces and wave their hands, peh, peh...he didn't take anything, and he was gone.[14]
The Krinkers had a special dialect. Instead of saying “s'iz do” (it‘s there), they said “es iz ido”. They called the gum not “yasles” but “asles”, the rag not “shmate” but “smate” and they did not say “shpatsirn” (walk) but “spatsirn”, furthermore they said “mundzhir” instead of “mundir” to the uniform.
Parents were not called “tate-mame” but “mami-tati”, grandparents were not called “bobe-zeyde” but “zeydi-bobi”, and an “eh” at the end of a word was pronounced as an “i”.
They could not pronounce an “h” at the beginning of a word, and so the “have” became “ave”. And so on...[15]
Apart from the fact that the shtetl had the “enlightenment movement”, it had its cultural and educational institutions and many “Khevres”, groups that helped shape Jewish life, e.g.: “Gmiles-Khsodim”[16],
“Biker-Khoylim”[17], “Moes-Khitn”[18] and “Hakhnoses-Kale”[19]. In addition, there were many elementary schools, a Russian school and college, modernized elementary schools and a library.
Frank and free the pigs ran around (in the shtetl), they used not only to feel at home, but even considered it beneath their dignity to stretch out on the streets,
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so they trotted to the market to lounge around. The pigs caused great distress.
Mothers used to guard their children that they should not go outside with food, because not only once it had happened that a child with food in its hand had been dragged along quite a few streets by a pig.
The Jewish community dared several times to expel them from the streets, but each time the goyim won in the courts, and the shtetl had to make peace - in “goles” (exile); and so, in addition to the suffering caused by the goyim, one had to endure constantly the suffering caused by their pigs.
The fact that there was constant spring water in Krynki helped the town to become the center of the tanning industry. The mineral water provided good leather, which was qualitatively distinguished from the tanneries of other cities.
In Krynki there was no great and bitter poverty. Only a few Krinkers went begging. However, Tevl “Vatshul” and Blumke, Mordekhay “Bedzdush's” wife, often used to go out on Shabbat to find a few pieces of challah.
Mordekhay “Bezdush”[20] and his wife Blumke were water carriers, for which they used a “Koromisle”, a water carrier pole. For one kopek they would bring water from the wells. Both had asthma, and many times their shortness of breath forced them to stay in bed for several days. Blumke then walked around town collecting challah for her household.
They had two or three daughters who were extraordinary persons, and therefore there was not only one young and “balebatish” man who fell in love with one of the daughters. But, what well-to-do, middle-class man would want to marry into the family of Mordekhay “Bezdush”?
Besides Mordekhay, there were other Jews in the shtetl with “surnames”, such as: “Motsh-Potsh” (mud-patch). “the Katshkes” (the ducks), “the Kugelekh” (the balls or puddings), “the Gimzhelakh”, “the Bebelakh” (the beans), “the Ebelakh”, “Lafonts with the Bells”, “Dratsh”, “Shamush” (an extra light), “Flekhtl” (lichen), “Skreytshik” (scratch?), “Itshe Malekh-Hamoves” (angel of death).
This Itshke used to always walk around with his buttons undone and his shirt open, his hair disheveled and his eyes protruding. He looked exactly as the townspeople imagined an angel of death.
There were also the nicknames “Itke-Kitke”, Leyzer “Drales” and “Alter Khales”.
When at Simkhes Toyre[21] the processions around the Bimah started to move, schoolchildren used to sing the
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melody of “Ozer Dalim”[22], but for fun included the nicknames of residents (in the text of the old poem, which sounded something like this):
“Leyzer Drales, please save, Alter Khales, please succeed, Itke-Kitke, we answered the day we read it”.
There were also “surnames” like “Kirbes (Pumpkin)”, “Mukhalap”, “Milb (Mite)”, “Slabets”, “the Farbrenter (Burnt)” and “Yente Kleyn-Kepele (Little Head)“.
Those who did not have a funny “surname” were called either after their professional activity or after the name of their fathers or mothers. Some were also named after the name of the town they came from, such as “Itshke Grodner”, “Shmuel Azhorer“ and “the Lapinitser”.
One young man was called “Itshke di Meydl (the Girl).“
This Itshke did not grow a beard and everyone knew that he had not been circumcised.
However, he put on men‘s clothes and also acted like a man. It is said that he even got married in America.
Malke from Krynki, who had converted from Judaism to Christianity, married a Polish, well-off young man, Yanek. He was a kind of amateur photographer and it was said that he had taken his wife from the Grodner brothel at that time.
His house was the meeting place of all the Krinker young people who wanted to engage in something heretical. If you saw a young man coming out of Yanek‘s house, you knew he had eaten pork.
Yanek and his mother, her name shall be erased, were fierce Jew haters. They, good speakers of Yiddish, did live among and associate with Jews, but they were also the source of all propaganda against Jews. When it was profitable for him, Yanek became a powerful revolutionary. But it was known all too well that he was a denunciator.
The convert was no better than he. She played the role of a pious Catholic and did not even show remnants of friendship to Jews. She, who came from the brothel, acted as the personified righteousness and as young men reported, she did not let herself be touched.
However, she did not fare well with Yanek, because when he was drunk, he used to reproach her for her Jewish ancestry.
At the market, while shopping, she was shunned by the women. She longed for a conversation with a Jewish woman, but her wish was not granted.
She had no children, and when she had sorrows that she wanted to get off her chest, she confided in the young people who came to her house to do heretical things. She was content, she said, not to have children, “because that way there are a few less goyim in the world.“
Translator's footnotes:
The Krinker youth boasted of Shimen Sikorski, one from the town who had helped in the assassination of von Plehve. Sikorski's deed confirmed that the Krinker “Khevre” was daring, heroic and idealistic.
However, the sthetl had not only heroic and brave boys and girls, who played an important and respected role in the 1905 revolution and even before, but also Jew traitors and good-for-nothings.
I remember two of them:
The first, Katshandre, was a denunciator on a grand scale, consorting with the influential authorities. He was ugly: his right eye was almost completely covered by the eyelid, with only a small opening at the lash line from which red flesh peeked out.
Katshandre was not permanently in Krynki, but spied on Krinkers who were in other cities, especially Grodno and Bialystok.
He had brought his wife, a personality! It was rumored, however, that Katshandre, just like the Pole Yanek, had taken his wife from a brothel.
The “Khevre” warned him and threatened him a few times. Later there was talk that the Krinker lads had cut out Katshandre's tongue.
The second informant was Mayrem Tsinges (Tongue), who was nicknamed for his large tongue. He never left the shtetl. The boys wanted to leave Mayrem alone, because they thought that he could save the Jews some grief given his connections to the authorities. And he was indeed useful to them - for cash in the hand.
Tsinges was always in a hurry, never walking, always running. In his haste, his hat always slipped on the back of his head and the open lapels of his caftan flapped.
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When he was reprimanded for his “stories,” he used to argue, “Someone else could be worse!” So the shtetl tolerated him like other afflictions.
To my Grandpa Yankel Bunim, however, Tsinges caused worry and grief. The government demanded 600 rubles from Yankel Bunim because two of his sons had not enlisted. The police often visited my Grandpa to confiscate “valuable” things from his apartment to “settle the debt.” Mayrem Tsinges knew when the police would come. Grandpa paid him a usurious wage. In return, Mayrem Tsinges did him the courtesy of coming by and warning that the bedding had to be packed away.
In panic and haste, the bedding and other things that were at least thought to be valuable were then taken to a neighbor or relative.
The authorities, however, made their demands not only on Grandpa, but also on his children. When we expected the police in our apartment, there was a big commotion.
Often Mom took us children to relatives to spend the night, and our parents slept without bedding, because they were afraid that the police would invade in the middle of the night.
This was real life!
Only the great Jewish confidence helped to get through this kind of excitement, tension and fear.
Krynki had to offer not only interesting personalities, but also interesting events. There were naive Jews who did not know what they wanted. For example, one Jew used to buy a new hat, but when he had it, he wished to have back the guilder that the hat had cost.
Another curiosity was the Jewess Itke Bertshekovitsh, who distributed the mail for the Jews. Itke was an extremely capable grocer, but she let herself go and was very slovenly. It was said that she probably wore seven or eight dresses on top of each other. She was something of a prankster- liked to joke around and didn't care if people made fun of her.
There was little entertainment in the shtetl. Once a circus came to visit us. A group of four or five comedians would usually come in summer.
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On a cloth they had spread on the bridge, they did various tricks. They twisted, rolled, jumped on and through hoops. The townspeople marveled at their acrobatic display.
Commotion arose when Gypsies would arrive in the shtetl. They set up their camp on the “Vigon”, near the river. Jewish mothers reacted with fright, they used to teach their children how to beware of the Gypsies in order not to be taken away by them.
A Gypsy child who had light hair and white skin was generally considered to be kidnapped.
The fuss about the Gypsies filled the whole shtetl. Even the rich and powerful came to the “Vigon”, stopped from afar and admired the hustle and bustle and the noise of the Gypsies.
The young “Khevre” stayed in the field until late at night, listening with longing to the songs of the Gypsies around campfires.
Driving in and out of the shtetl, the Gypsies sang a loudly echoing song:
“Mi tsigani (which sounded like 'misi-ani') tshesni lyudi, gdey mi yedem, tam mi budye”.
(” We Gypsies are honest people, wherever we descend, there we stay”).
“Mi tsigani, vadku filu, i koni mi lovilo”.
“We Gypsies drank liquor and stole horses”.
Once a man and a woman appeared in the shtetl, they were street singers. The couple, actually from Ukraine, went from street to street singing with a tearful melody and sad words about the catastrophe of the Jews in the Bialystok pogrom. A few words of their dialect were not understood, but the two of them entertained the audience and made the women cry.
The man played on a bandura, the woman closed her eyes, spread her arms and sang in a hoarse, harsh voice: “Whoever read the newspaper, of the famous city of Bialystok, which met such a bad misfortune on the first, second and third day.”[1]
We learned a lot of folk songs and popular tunes from them, and children and adults sang, “Goodbye, my dear bride, I will long for you more than for any others, goodbye and pray for me to God that I will not be sent to Dalny Vladyvostok”.
At first, the Krinkers did not understand the words spoken in the
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Ukrainian Yiddish dialect and, in their confusion, attributed a different meaning to the words. It took some time before they realized that “man man,” as the singer pronounced it, meant only “my man.”
There was a crowd when Khayim Osher's nephew, Yisroel “the Great,” brought home a gramophone with a flaring horn. Hundreds gathered at the windows to listen to the songs and the cantorial singings. Those who were allowed inside considered it a great privilege.
In addition to the cantorial songs, Yisroel also played interesting popular tunes on his gramophone. The most prominent ones at that time were:
“Moyshele, my husband, under the earth you shall go, in the fire you shall burn, already long enough I have begged you to take me to you!”[2]
The second song went like this:
“Oh help, a thief, he has robbed me, stolen all my wealth, seven shirts and the cups, three with patches, four with holes. Oh help, a thief, he has robbed me!”[3]
A very extraordinary guy was Yankel Yehuda the blacksmith. He made the Rabbi's life a misery. He especially had it in for Rabbi r' Borekh Stavski (Lavski?). When the “balebatim”, the rich and powerful, did not heed the opinion of the common people regarding municipal matters, such as the meat tax or funds for the midwives and the bathhouse, the “amkho”[4] objected vehemently, usually disrupting the Torah readings and making scandals.
Yankel Yehuda the blacksmith was a great scoffer and took out his protest against the behavior of the “balebatim” on the Rabbi.
Yankel Yehuda very much loved the “bitter drop”. Whenever he felt like giving the Rabbi a hard time, he would do so after praying.
Immediately after the first minyen, he fortified himself with a “quarter” of liquor and ate onion or garlic with it.
Yankel Yehuda would then usually visit the Rabbi when the latter was just getting up. Sleepy as he was, the Rabbi listened to the displeasure that the blacksmith and the “amkho” harbored toward the rich and powerful.
Yankel Yehuda usually did not even want to sit down. After all, he was a healthy man, he had drunk properly, and so his voice was enough to scare the Rabbi.
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R' Borekh Stavski used to beg him:
“Reb Yakev Yehuda, now that's enough, please leave me alone, because otherwise I will faint before your eyes!”
However, the other did not do him this favor until he had gotten rid of all his complaints. Yankel Yehuda's son Lipe already took after his father. He did not interfere in the affairs of the Jewish community, but he drank twice as much as his father.
When Lipe was already properly drunk, he would lie down on a stone in the middle of the market, take off his boots and say:
“Well, thanks God, I'm home on the stove already!”
The introduction of street lighting made a big impression. Lamps were mounted on poles and could be pulled up and down with wires. They burned with kerosene and with wicks[5], and a goy lit them.
Later, a so-called “Iluzyon” was opened in the shtetl, and for the first time the Krinkers saw living people moving on a screen.
The spectacle this created in the early days was immense. Some of the people simply thought it was magic.
Even greater excitement than that of the “Iluzyon” was caused by the omnibus that brought passengers from Krynki to Sokolka. Carters ran to the Rabbi to forbid it, since it deprived them of their income. They went to Hasidic Rabbis, and together with the women, they put wild curses on the omnibus and its owners.
It used to happen that because of the poor condition of the roads, the omnibus gave up the ghost because the engine was defective or a wheel broke apart. This caused great joy among the carters, “You see,” they boasted, “that our curses have helped!”
Among the goyim, the omnibus caused great horror. When they saw it, they would scatter in fright; they called it “Tshort Obkaike,” which means “He is being chased by the devil”. The school children were very happy when they saw the omnibus arrive and depart. They used to run after it to the market when it arrived, and accompany it a little way out to the main street when it left.
The older Jews and the idlers, the sons of the rich, also used to wait for its arrival.
Important Poles really came alive. They
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usually gathered next to the house of “Khatskel the She(y)nker”, scanned the bus and admired the “seykhl”[6] of the carriage to be able to run without a horse.
In addition to the non-Jewish chauffeur, who was called “Shafyor“, there was employed a conductor, named the “Farbrenter” (Burnt). The “Burnt”, son of a carter, was a real good-for-nothing as a little boy, a brawler and a wild rascal. Because of his pranks he was very disliked.
The suffering he caused would have been enough for a bigger town than Krynki. (He and his) gang of rascals not only knotted the wedding guests' clothes with each other, but also threw lumps of garbage and old rags at many weddings.
A custom of this gang was also to set off fireworks at weddings. The “burned” one was the main brawler of them and did all the reprehensible deeds.
Once, at a wedding, the “Burnt” went on a rampage. He filled his mouth with kerosene, lit a sheet of paper on fire, and spat kerosene on the burning sheet of paper.
The fire exploded in his face, and the lower part of his face up to his nose, mouth and cheeks were burned.
After this accident, he began to become a civilized person. He became calm and “respectable”, got married and, in his own way, led a good bourgeois life.
Nobody remembered his real name, he remained the “Burnt”.
As a conductor, the “Burnt” was dressed up in a uniform, which he usually bragged about and showed off. The signal for the departure of the bus was given by a horn. The “Burnt” used to stretch himself as high as he could with great zeal, to wipe the blowpipe with a clean cloth, to take it in his mouth and to emit a reverberating sound.
The rascals vented their grudge on the “Burnt”. The rich sons, the Poles and the idlers, envied his uniform and the fact that he could travel freely between Krynki and Sokolka.
Translator's footnotes:
There were a lot of “mental patients” living in Krynki, among them interesting, wild and also simply dumb people. The most interesting was Shloyme Dubrover. However, he could not be counted among the Krinkers, because his “territory” included dozens of other large and small towns in the area.
Among the people who became behaviorally disturbed in a particular season, or just seemed a bit twisted, were a few goyim who had grown up and lived well with the Jewish population.
The wildest was Motke, a coarse, rough fellow, who, besides being mentally ill, was a great fool. He lacked, however, the ingenuity that other “madmen” often displayed. His illness consisted of dealing with (and caring for) his deceased father.
Motke's mother, a small, stooped Jewish woman, but very nimble and energetic, made her living running an iron store. When Motke got upset, he would attack his mother, hitting her with rage and screaming obsessively.
As a result of their clamor, the whole shtetl usually ran together. The townspeople mustered all their courage and strength and tried to restrain Motke who would often chase those who tried to calm him with a tool made of iron.
His illness was manifested mainly in carrying food to his father's grave and yelling around, “I need a hot meal for Dad!”
Every day at a certain hour he would jump up impetuously, shrug his shoulders violently, and run to the cemetery.
Schoolchildren used to run after him, shouting:
“Where are you going, Motki?”
“I'm going to bring Dad some hot food!”
“Is he hungry?”
“He's been gone for half a day and hasn't eaten anything yet, he won't be able to lie still!”
He used to dump the meal on his father's grave, “There you go Daddy, recover well, tomorrow I'll bring you a better meal!”
If his mother had not prepared anything warm, or tried to talk him out of going to the cemetery, he fell upon her.
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The second mental patient, Mair “Tsitsun”, was a careless person, constantly dirty and shabbily dressed. He mainly blamed his mother for weaning him too early.
The third of the already famous troika of “madmen” was Shimen “a Zhonki” (a Woman), a strong man with broad shoulders, a stern face and a thick, blond-curled beard.
He used to ask to marry him off. He could not articulate distinctly. His only clear words were, “I want a zhonki!”
People used to ask him:.
“Shimen, will you be able to feed a zhonki?”
In response, he used to enumerate that he could carry water, chop wood, and do other jobs as well to provide a living. One of his favorite sayings was, “Ikh shuge, ale shuge!” (“I’m crazy but so is everybody else!”)
When a photographer from Grodno or Bialystok came to the shtetl, he set it up so that he could seek out the threesome and take their portraits. The photographer posed the three in the most bizarre and comical poses, with their coats on backwards, hats turned upside down, holding a broom or riding on a stove hook, and other similar things.
The photographer then pasted the portraits into a glass display case and set it up outside his “studio”.
When the townspeople saw the “madmen” in their poses, they would stop at the showcase for hours, laughing and joking at the expense of the outlandish people.
One “insane person,” Mayrem, never spoke. There were various rumors and legends about Mayrem. He was a tall and handsome man, and with his black hair and long black beard he looked more like a Russian Orthodox church leader than a Jew.
In the summer he went barefoot. He earned his living by carrying water, and slept in the large Bes-Medresh.
It was said that he was of high descent and very educated, had several university degrees and could speak many languages fluently.
However, since he did not speak, all these rumors were never confirmed.
Anyway, people would look him up to ask him to write foreign
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addresses. And people told that it was a pleasure to see his handwriting[1] Mayrem stood mute because of a vow he had taken to atone for a debt.
Among the virtues that the townsfolk attributed to him was that he played the violin. But no one had ever heard him play. He was not thought to be completely insane, but rather a kind of unhinged man who had made a vow and was now putting it into practice. However, he actually showed many highly peculiar characteristics, so he could sometimes, just like that, laugh himself half to death.
There was also the whimsical Itshke Kugelekh, who, whenever someone died, would run around town with glee, knocking on shutters and announcing the news. Itshke did hard labor in the tanneries, never staying long in one factory. When he started at a new factory, he always brought in hides from his previous factory, commenting, “While there is a shortage of hide here, the old factory has more than enough hide!”
There were oddballs with heretical ideas and women who were considered abnormal because they gossiped extremely much.
One of the three “insane” women was Mayte, an already elderly goye. She usually wore a robe with a train over several dresses pulled over each other. She fashioned a dolly[2] out of a ball of cloth, which she cuddled, rocked, and sang to sleep.
At some point she was found leaning against the wall of a building. In death, she still held her dolly pressed to her chest.
Yente “Little Head” was not actually “crazy,” she just had a vision disorder. Her parents kept her clean and chaste and did not let her out of the house. But as soon as they just turned around, Yente would sneak out of the house.
Yente was really a tragic figure. Her body was normal and fully developed, she had a beautiful face with red cheeks.
But her head was as big as that of a one-year-old child. She spoke only half words. No one bothered her until, as a result of some misfortune that happened to her, she became the center of women's ridicule and gossip for some time.
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Yente “Little Head” had become pregnant! At first, no one in the shtetl wanted to believe it, but Yente had snuck away from the home supervision and her bulging belly was now impossible to miss. When the women saw her, there was excitement and commotion, “Yente Little Head is on the street!”
Once, noisy women gathered at the stoop to a house entrance and lay in wait for Yente. With cunning, they lured Yente into the house. Dozens of women joined them. They sat Yente down on a table, felt her belly, and winked at each other.
“Yente, Yente, who gave you such a big belly?”
“The Obnter,” she replied, meaning that the “Burnt” had impregnated her.
But whether the “Burnt” was really the culprit could never be clarified. He denied and swore “stone and bone” that he had nothing to do with the matter. It was most likely that the enemies of the “Burnt” had persuaded Yente to make this statement.
Adotshke was a strange goye from a neighboring village. She had already worked as a maid in almost every upper-class home but never stayed long in one place.
She had even worked in our house about twenty times. She was paid with food or a dress, and once she was even given a ruble.
Adotshke was ugly with a pockmarked[3] face. Her “mental illness” was that she talked for hours without stopping, all without sense or reason. She met with the same misfortune as Yente “Little Head,” and she blamed the factory's constable, who was called “Stibun”[4] by the Jews because of his tall stature.
As a pregnant woman, Adotshke would not be allowed into any house, but my mother had mercy and took her in. As a result of her situation, Adotshke became even more confused. She talked without stopping and uttered wild curses at “Stibun.” .
To interrupt her pregnancy, she punched her stomach and squeezed it on the edge of the table.
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Suddenly she disappeared. A few months later, however, she appeared with a bright boy in her arms. But no one wanted to take her in with a child. She hung around for a while until she finally disappeared forever.
There were two people who became insane in certain seasons: Kotiel and Simkhe, the son of Rokhel Motshke and biological nephew of my grandfather, Yankel Bunim.
Kotiel was a quiet man and a great personality.
The mental illness first struck him when he was still a young man. However, he already had a large family with 7 or 8 children.
Kotiel was an immigrant and worked as a teacher from the very beginning. Suddenly, however, he interrupted this activity and became a tanner. He earned little, maybe three or four rubles a week. The reason I know is that he worked in my father's factory for a while[5].
Kotiel's insane condition began after he became a Hassid of the Kobrin dynasty. He was “normal” for a whole year, but during the time of the month of Tamuz[6], the illness gripped him. Then he ran about the streets shouting that the shtetl could wash itself clean of its sins only by ritual bathing. Barefoot, he ran to the river and had to be rescued (from drowning) there dozens of times.
Simkhe, the son of Rokhel Matshke[7], was a Jewish Talmud scholar. He had been ordained as a Rabbi, but did not manage to hold such a position, although he believed that he was entitled to the post of Rabbi in Krynki. He was also able to ritually slaughter, however, he did not receive approval for this either, which annoyed and pained him deeply.
Once a year Simkhe was stricken with a mental illness. Then he tried to prove on himself that he was able to slaughter in the Jewish kosher way. Several times he survived. Finally, however, he succeeded in slaughtering. This last time he performed it (on himself) like on a piece of cattle.
People who were possessed by a “Dybbuk”[8] were also brought to Krynki. (The sick) were led through the shtetl to the nearby village of Krushenan (Kruszniany), where Tatars were living. It was believed that their “saint”[9] could heal the possessed who were exclusively girls and young women. They crowed like roosters, barked like dogs or meowed like cats.
The sick were brought on peasant carts. Schoolchildren accompanied them out to the road to Krushenan.
Whether the “holy” Tatar could actually give them a cure is not known. The sick never drove back through the shtetl.
Translator's footnotes:
As a serious town, Krynki, with its many hard-working people, was inhabited only by a few depraved young fellows. Moreover, there was no large number of “hazenikes”[1]; and people interested exclusively in “food and fare” were unknown. Also, alcoholics were few and far between.
Especially when the revolutionary movements arose, it seemed sacrilegious to the youth to indulge in banalities. A revolutionary had to be serious. Shallow entertainment and games were interpreted as an expression of idleness and laziness, in which only the “bourgeoisie” was interested.
But this did not mean that Krynki was a “sleepy nest”. The youth, while demanding to learn and expand their knowledge, did not generally spurn cultural life. Talented “enlightened” people even performed plays. In addition to the occasional play, there were jugglers and interesting characters in town who caused a sensation, entertainment and laughter.
Among them was a Jew with the nickname: “Lafonts with the bells”. His sons and grandsons inherited his “surname”.
I remember the first son of “Lafonts”, he lived below Kavkaz, in the precinct of the “ Kapitses” on the small Zhabe Alley. For a while Lafonts used to live a quiet and solid life. But when a phase of confusion overcame him, he put on original robes sewn together from brightly colored patches.
On his head he wore a little hat with bells and on his shoulders a timpani with dozens of clappers and mallets. To all these clanging and drumming accessories were added various saucers. Everything was connected with a rope, which he in turn attached to a hook on his boot. And on top of that, he held plates made of brass in his hands.
In this outfit “Lafonts” then usually went to the market, where his strange appearance attracted attention not only among the school children, but even among the “balebatim”.
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He was usually surrounded and then gave a “concert” on all his drumming “instruments”.
Lafonts bent and threw himself in the air, turned his head and produced strange sounds and a hellish noise, wild, far sounding and crazy.
The gentile chimney sweep Yakev was never seen as a washed person in clean clothes. He was always covered with soot. On his shoulders Yakev carried the sweeping broom, to which was attached a heavy iron tool.
The peasants used Yakev as a surface for advertisements. On his chest constantly hung a sign announcing, for example:
“Whoever knows someone who has a pig, tell him to bring it to the market!”.
It was very common for the children to gather together for certain games. Only the boys of excessively pious fathers or even of “wild” Hasids, kept away from it.
Girls played “pilke and tseykhns” (ball and signs) with small cubes made of sheep bones. The trick was to throw the cubes up and quickly catch them again with the hand.
The boys had two games that depended on speed and skill. The most common was called “tshort” (devil). On average, up to ten boys participated in this game. Each boy had a stick that reached no higher than his belt and lined up with the other players.
One end of the stick rested on the tip of the right foot and the upper end was held with a finger. Then, at the same time, everyone began to shake their right foot and fling the stick up into the air. This was called “bugern.”
The boy whose stick did not fly far enough became the “tshort”.
The “thort” positioned himself in the middle of the field and had to stick a little piece of wood into a small mound of earth.
The players had to stand around a perimeter that had previously been marked with chalk. The trick was to throw the sticks so that they knocked the little piece of wood out of the mound. The “tshort” usually had to run as fast as possible to put the little piece
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of wood back in place and prevent the players from getting their sticks back. The players, in turn, had to avoid leaving the little piece of wood in the mound. The goal of the “tshort” was to get rid of his role as “Tshort” again.
To do this, he had to touch one of the other players with his stick and knock the stick[2] out of his hand.
The other player was not allowed to let this happen, and so a boisterous trial of skill, speed and clever strategy began between the two players.
A similar game with only minor modifications was “montshik”[3].
The boys also played with buttons and pieces of colored glass.
At Tishe-Bov[4], in addition to carving wooden swords, they used to throw “siskes”[5]. It was dangerous for girls to show themselves outside.
The more daring among them went out into the street with headscarves. True scallywags usually tore off the scarves and put burrs all over the girls' hair.
Very spoiled boys also threw the burrs into beards. And so there was not only one Jew who had to spend hours afterwards plucking the burrs out of his beard again.
Tishe-Bov was the happiest and wildest day for the rattle gangs.
The day before Passover was very boisterous. Brazen louts and snots usually did not sleep the night before Passover but ran about the shtetl collecting shavings and little pieces of wood. Very daring ones simply dragged away whole logs of wood from the carpenters and roofers and even stole barrels of “mazhe”, a grease for greasing the wheels of carts, which burned long and brightly.
The gang dug a hollow in the field, filled it with woody material and set everything on fire.
Already at dawn, the rascals stood around the pit, shouting obsessively, “Burn leaven, burn Passover dumplings!”
Great pleasure was given to the louts to carry the objects contaminated with leaven for ritual purification. The pans were “white-washed”, but the utensils made of tin or pewter were taken to the locksmith to be dipped in hot water.
In the summer, the gang engaged in a special sport: tearing off pea pods in the fields of the large landowner Virnye (Virion).
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The guards did not manage to protect the pods - and the brats caused great destruction, stamping and trampling the fields.
To tear off the pods, they went in groups, and there was a strategy associated with it. The members of the gang wrapped a rope around their upper shirts, creating a kind of sack into which they could put the pea pods.
The reason for going out in groups was to keep the guards busy and confused all the time, because they didn't know who to hunt for first. At one point, the landowner brought in Cossacks. These hid themselves and then suddenly sprang out from their hiding place to hunt for the boys.
I and a second boy were also chased by a Cossack. But he could not catch us. A pouring rain fell, and the Cossack was finally so exhausted that he gave up the chase. In the shtetl, however, they already knew what had happened to me and the other boy.
Late that night we both arrived at the shtetl tired, exhausted and completely soaked to the bone.
I was afraid to go inside the house. Below the entrance door, in the forefront of the house, I heard my mother crying. Her grief gave me courage to go inside. Guiltily, I stopped at the doorstep.
My mother looked at me in wonder for a while. - If the Cossack had grabbed me, surely his punishment would not have been worse than that!
In winter, on Shabbat evenings, the boys used to go sledding. They harnessed sleds to the horses, and the commotion, noise and laughter echoed through the streets.
The boys rode their sleds only downhill, up the hill they pulled the sleds behind them and sang: “Sunday potatoes, Monday potatoes, Tuesday potatoes, Wednesday potatoes, Thursday and Friday potatoes, on Shabbat as an exception potato “Kugl” (casserole), Sunday again potatoes!”
The rascals threw snowballs at each other, formed snowmen and placed them at the window to scare women and children.
Adult young boys and girls played “find” and “hide and seek”. On Friday evenings, fruit pits and nuts were cracked. In summer, on Shabbat, people used to walk in the woods, and in winter they skated on the pond.
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There were wild and cruel brawls among the boys, involving wars fought from one street against the other street. The main warriors were the “Kavkazer” louts. These, however, rarely interfered in wars between streets.
The boys of all streets trembled in real mortal fear of the “Kavkazers”.
Mainly stones were used as weapons, and since the wars often took place in the market, there were not a few adult passers-by who were seriously injured in the head.
Translator's footnotes:
The most important factory owner and the most powerful man in the shtetl was Nokhem Anshel Kinishinski. Born in Kobrin, he traveled to Krinik after robbing my Great-Grandfather.
Nokhem Anshel was somewhat related to my Great-Grandpa.
He arrived at the latter's residence on the Meshenik estate just as Mair Yonah was struggling not to be evicted from his property.
Grandpa Yankel Bunim was ill at that time. Nokhem Anshel managed the business temporarily entrusted to him in such a way that he fled when Mair Yonah returned.
After arriving in Krynki, Nokhem Anshel used to bring flour to the bakeries for a miller. Shortly after, he became an accountant for the rich and powerful Dovid Marein (Dovid Todreses), who had a distillery on the estate of a Polish aristocrat, Virnye (Virion).
Dovid Todreses was a distinguished man of great importance. His stone house in the market was surrounded by a large garden and was the most beautiful residence in the shtetl. At some point, Dovid began to get worse. While he became increasingly poorer, however, Nokhem Anshel became increasingly richer.
Dovid became impoverished to such an extent that he had to sell all his possessions and moved to Grodno.
Not long after Dovid Marein left the shtetl, Nokhem Anshel opened a tannery. Years later, when Nokhem Anshel had already become a powerful man, Dovid Marein used to come to him and ask for alms.
His decline to impoverishment had hit Dovid with full force. When he came to Nokhem Anshel, he appeared haggard and subservient. Nokhem Anshel usually gave him short shrift with a few rubles to send him quickly back to Grodno.
Nokhem Anshel‘s tannery grew steadily.
It did not take long,
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and the control of the entire city leather production was in his hands.
Krynki was a great center of leather tanning.
Shoes and boots were made from hides of horse leather. The main sales centers were Moscow and Warsaw.
There were different tanneries. In the “wet” tanneries the whole hide was processed and then the leather was cut into three parts: “lapes”[1], “dubkes”[2] and “shilder”[3]. “Lapes” came from thepwas or legs (of the animal), “dubkes” from the back part and “shilder” from the sides and neck.
The individual parts were tanned a second time. The coarser “ lapes” and “dubkes” were exported to Moscow; the thinner, nobler “shilder” pieces were sold from Warsaw.
From the “shilder” pieces three more parts were cut: “leaves” for gaiters[4], “soyuzn”[5] for boots and “shpitskes” (laces) for children's shoes.
In the beginning, Nokhem Anshel only worked out the “lapes”, “dubkes” and “shilder”. Later, he concentrated on tanning the whole hide, but sold the parts to small contract companies called “Leynketnikes”[6].
Through his business, Nokhem Anshel not only became wealthy, but also gained control over the small tanneries that depended on him.
Many of them did not have enough money, and Nokhem Anshel usually charged interest on the bills that were not paid on time. Nokhem Anshel was a “First Guild Kupets”[7], which was a great privilege at that time. This title, which elevated him to the first-rank merchant, gave him the right to travel and live in all cities outside the “Tkhum Hamoyshev”[8].
In the shtetl, Nokhem Anshel occupied a top position and had very strong influence. He was very well read and usually “learned”[9] with the Jews in the large Bes-Medresh on Shabbat, during the time between the minkhe and mayrev prayers[10].
He had a good voice and was a talented “menagen”[11]. When Nokhem Anshel prayed from the podium, people came gladly to hear him.
Just like his high, important position, his physical figure and demeanor was significant, rude and arrogant.
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He spoke with a sharp “r”, controlled and confident. He let everyone know that he was powerful and influential; however, he was very unpopular because of his cruelty. When Nokhem Anshel wanted to achieve something, he cleared everything that hindered him out of the way. He never had pity or showed leniency. He hated the poor and made no secret of it. For him, the only thing that mattered was that people obeyed him and were subservient.
When Zalmen Sender, zts”l, became Rabbi in Krynki, Nokhem Anshel immediately had a dispute with him because Zalmen Sender sided with the workers and the poor.
Zalmen Sender was infinitely popular in the shtetl, and people boasted about him. The Krinkers glorified him especially after he refused the offer to become Rabbi in Warsaw.
“Reb Zalmen Sender said that he would rather be the Rabbi in Krynki than in the big city of Warsaw!”
When Nokhem Anshel was still working for Dovid Todreses, he became an important guest in the home of the handsome tobacconist, Shmuel Tabatshnik. His wife Henye was the sister of my great-grandfather, Yosl Pruzhanski (Yosl Tsherebukh).
Shmuel had several sons and three daughters, Roshke, Hode and Sheynke. They were small, but beautiful. All of them had the habit of sitting hunched over, with their heads sunk between their shoulders.
Nokhem Anshel began to “dress up” for the daughters. Shmuel let him know, however, that if he wanted to marry one of his daughters, it had to be the eldest, Roshke.
Shmuel Tabatshnik also married off his other two daughters; Hode to a Bialystok weaver, Nisl. Sheynke, who had previously had a love affair with Grandpa Yankel Bunim's nephew, Borekh Hersh, he married off to Yisroel Hertske, who later became a large leather manufacturer.
Nokhem Anshel did not let Roshke have much influence. However, she was no woman to simply pass over. Since Nokhem Anshel did not want to have heated arguments with her, he, in many ways, let her go her own way. In one thing there was perfect harmony between them: in wickedness.
Roshke was at odds with her two sisters; in general, she kept her distance from her family.
But she was fond of my Grandfather, Khayim Osher.
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The day before the holidays, she used to invite him for honey cake and schnapps.
Roshke's spite knew no bounds. After her father's death, when her mother ran out of her meager savings, Roshke used to throw her a few rubles every now and then. She didn't want to concern herself much with her mother.
(One day) old Henye Tabatshnik slipped and injured herself, whereupon she decided to go to Nokhem Anshel for the time being. But when Roshke realized that the sick woman wanted to stay with her, she told the carter to drive Henye away to Grandpa Kayim Osher.
At that time, my Grandpa lived on Kantselarye Street in a room with a corridor where bark was chopped. The dust spread and constantly hung over the whole apartment.
Grandma Rive let Aunt Henye Tabatshnik sleep in her bed and stayed overnight with the daughters. Every day, until Henye's death, Uncle Yisroel used to go to Nokhem Anshel to get a jug of milk.
The workers hated Nokhem Anshel not only because of his big belly, power and authority, all characteristics of a typical “bourgeois”, but also because of the way he treated them.
In the first strike, Nokhem Anshel was the only one who would not allow any compromise with the workers. In the second strike, which incidentally failed, Nokhem Ashel encouraged the gendarmes to act brutally.
He advised the colonel of the gendarmerie on how to fight the strikers. As a result of his advice, hundreds of young boys were tortured behind Krinker prison bars and dozens were transferred to Grodner prison.
The strike was broken then as a result of the hunger of the poor and the cruelty of the gendarmes. Nokhem Anshel had wanted to teach the poor a lesson and put it into practice.
As a result of Nokhem Anshel's brutal actions, the hostility against him intensified. The townspeople cursed his name:
“May Nokhem Anshel live a miserable life, may he be sick and bedridden for a long time, where is there such a thing that while that wise Tsadek had to die, Nokhem Anshel is in perfect health?”
[Page 205]
When the revolutionary movement arose in Krynki, the consideration of what to do with Nokhem Anshel was constantly on the agenda of the central committees. There were sentiments that one should “get rid” of him. However, the very influential “Bund” did not allow this. Its members thought that Nokhem Anshel should only be made to feel a little afraid.
With regard to the anarchists, who had already found strong support among the young tanners, it was known that they had already set out to eventually “liquidate” Nokhem Anshel.
In order not to give the anarchists the credit for killing Nokhem Anshel, some young Bundists secretly and without the knowledge of their committee set out to plan and prepare an assassination attempt on Nokhem Anshel.
Translator's footnotes:
For a while, the Krinkers were very upset because of a scandal that the factory owners, with Nokhem Anshel as the main culprit, had instigated.
At that time, they let the tanners, who came to pray in the great Bes-Medresh in unclean clothes and with grease (from working the hide) on their boots, know that they would be doing them, the balebatim, a great favor to find another house of prayer.
According to Nokhem Anshel's plan, they had begun to withdraw and exclude the craftsmen from all matters and activities concerning the Bes-Hamedresh, and to pass over them in calls for Torah reading (“aliye”). The tanners made a fuss about it, but it didn't help them at all. Nokhem Anshel was the Gabe and (in that capacity) did everything he could to get rid of the tanners.
Finally, the workers saw that the balebatim would prevail and at a meeting, they decided to establish their own Bes-Medresh.
Not far from the great Bes-Medresh, there was an empty hall where soldiers had once taken up quarters. This hall now became the prayer house of the tanners.
Yankel Bunim was appointed as the Gabe, administrator and responsible leader. Every Friday, in order to be able to maintain the Bes-Medresh, Grandpa went about the factories to collect weekly dues among the craftsmen.
The factory owners did not like that at all. They sent the denunciator, Mayrem Tsinges, who was the sub-Shames in the great Bes-Medresh, after my Grandpa to make his life difficult. Tsinges did not leave my Grandpa alone anymore and threatened him to reveal to the police that the Bes-Medresh of the tanners was not a real prayer house, but a meeting place of the “Buntovshtshikes” (rebels).
When Grandpa was on his way to the factories, Mayrem Tsinges and a policeman got in his way and arrested him.
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When this became known in the factories, the tanners stopped working. People gathered in the market and went to the “prison” to free Yankel Bunim by force. One of them ran to Nokhem Anshel to address him about it, and he caused the “Pristav” (the police chief commissioner), to free Grandpa.
After this scandal, however, the situation did not calm down at all. The tanners were full of anger against the factory owners; the balebatim, in turn, agreed to close the tanners' “Bes-Medresh”. Upon their denunciation that it was not a Bes-Medresh but a revolutionary meeting center, the police sealed this “house of prayer.”
This action by the factory owners added fuel to the fire. It was agreed among the leaders of the revolutionary groups to teach Nokhem Anshel a lesson as a warning to all factory owners.
Three young hot-headed revolutionary boys decided on their own to assassinate Nokhem Anshel.
However, one of the three, Shloymeke “Kirbises” (Pumpkins), the brother of my friend Zeydke, cancelled. The remaining two, Leybke Noskes and Dovid, the son of Yankel “dem Geln” (the Blond), prepared the assassination.
I remember the attack on Nokhem Anshel as if it had just happened. Grandma Rive lived on Garbarska Street right across the street from Nokhem Anshel's house.
It was on a Shabbat evening, a clear, starry night. Fresh snow clothed the surroundings in pure white and soft glow.
As was her desire, Grandma sat by the window, swaying in the darkness. Her daughter Yente asked her to light the lamp.
Rive rose and walked to the table. Suddenly, from outside, screams and great noise entered the parlor.
Yente ran out and immediately came back in trembling; “Nokhem Anshel has been stabbed with a knife! Leybke Noskes stabbed him with a knife!” Grandma gave a jerk to go outside, but stopped.
She walked quietly to the window and looked out at the people who had come running. Nokhem Anshel was thrust, but not stabbed (killed)!
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However, as Leybke Noskes, now named Louis Sheyn, reported to me, he was not the one who had knifed Nokhem Anshel.
In the planning of the assassination, Dovid, the son of Yankel the Blond, was supposed to shoot; in case he missed, Leybke was supposed to come along and stab Nokhem Anshel.
Leybke was responsible for letting Dovid know when the prayers ended in the great Bes-Medresh.
Afterwards, Nokhem Anshel had walked down Garbarska Street, surrounded by factory owners. His son Berl, himself a great factory owner, walked arm in arm with him. A few steps from Nokhem Anshel's house, Dovid, the son of Yankel the Blond, fired a shot and then hastily chased a knife into Nokhem Anshel's body. However, because of his thick belly and the coarse fur coat he wore, the knife did not penetrate deeply.
Nokhem Anshel was only slightly injured.
Leybke Noskes was convinced that it was only in Nokhem Anshel's house that they (came up with the idea) to connect him with the assassination, because they remembered to have seen him in the great Bes-Medresh before the attack. However, they did not know, who the second assailant was.
While they were sitting at Nokhem Anshel's trying to figure out who might be the second culprit, Dovid, son of Yankel the Blond, was sitting in the inn calmly drinking one cup after another.
Along with Leybke Noskes, an innocent Pole, a devout Catholic, who was the bell ringer of the Polish church, was also arrested.
When Leybke was arrested, he was perhaps 16 years old. At a very young age he joined the revolutionary movement. He was the only one in his family who got involved in revolutionary actions and went to the “skhodkes” (meetings) while still a boy. He had received his first political education (“agitation”) from craftsmen who worked in his father's turnery.
At a very young age, Leybke already occupied an important place in the “Bund” movement; when he was imprisoned, he already enjoyed the prestige of the Central Committee of the Bund. Leybke spent several days behind bars in Krynki. On a freezing cold day he was led in a prisoner transport to the Grodner prison with his hands tied behind his back.
[Page 209]
As Leybke was led through the streets of Krynki, the tanners stood silently and watched him and the innocent Christian being driven forward, surrounded by rural policemen with bare swords.
From the “Bund” they let it be known to Nokhem Anshel that his entire family would be dealt with if he testified as a witness against Leybke. Nokhem Anshel immediately began to campaign for Leybke's release.
He himself drove to Grodno and managed to get Leybke and the Christian released on bail. When Leybke arrived in Krynki, Nokhem Anshel invited him and asked what he could do for him.
“See that I am acquitted,” Leybke demanded.
Nokhem Anshel hired the best advocates, and through his intervention Leybke and the Christian were acquitted.
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