[Page 234]
There Were Two Brothers
(from Those Who Deviated From the Group)
by M. Spergel
They arrived in town one day; they came from somewhere and appeared in
Lizhensk. They were two older lads, orphans, wearing tattered and worn out
clothing. Nobody knew anything about them, or from where they came.
One morning, frightful screams were heard in the town. We gathered together and
saw that the two lads were bruised badly, and the younger one was shouting
loudly God boga! God boga![6].
From that time, he had the nickname Bogatz (which has a double meaning of god
and a rich man). The older of the two was tall, strong, with wide shoulders.
His eyes exuded evil and his mouth spouted out a stream of invective as the
gates of hell. Everyone was afraid of him as if he were some demon. He was
illiterate, and he made his living as a porter. I remember him constantly
wearing a thick rope around his waist, and always dirty with flour from the
sacks that he used to unload from the wagons and carry to the bakeries. He was
unwashed and his hair uncombed. He slept and ate amongst the gentiles. During
the day he would go to their stalls and purchase some ham or thick sausage,
which he would swallow down quickly, taking alternate bites from the sausage
and the whole loaf of bread that was in his hand.
We kept our distance from him as much as possible, out of fear of his wildness
and his great strength.
The Jews did not consider him as a Jew and the gentiles did not consider him as
a gentile. They called him Ivan, however nobody knew his real name. It is very
strange that on Yom Kippur, Ivan would lie on the lawn in the synagogue
courtyard, alone, silent and forlorn for the entire day.
I was a young child and it was a festival. I do not remember which festival it
was, but it was not Yom Kippur. I was about to enter the synagogue and behold,
Ivan was lying down in the synagogue lawn. I was surprised, since it was not
Yom Kippur, and I did not know why Ivan was there that day. I thought that
perhaps he had thoughts of repentance. My small heart was that of a Jewish
child, full of thoughts of reward and punishment, hell (Gehinnom) and the
Garden of Eden. My heart was pained for him, my mercy was aroused, and I wished
to comfort him, to relieve his depression and to help him along the path to
repentance. I did not wish him to be thrown into the cauldrons of burning pitch
in Gehinnom. I approached him, with my heart pounding. I did not know how to
start, how to express my feelings of mercy toward him and my wish to help him.
I coughed and said:
Reb Ivan
I could not continue. For at that moment, he burst out with a storm, and
thunderclouds gathered from above. Ivan rose up in a hurry from his place
I succeeded in fleeing. He did not touch me, however the half brick that he
threw at me flew just past my head. I was lucky to have been saved from a
disaster.
From that time onward, he was a topic of my childhood nightmares.
I remember that for many years, Ivan lived alone and forlorn in Lizhensk,
separated also from his brother as if he never knew him.
Once, when I entered the Beis Midrash in the morning, I saw him lying face up
on a bench, behind the stove. He was surrounded by children and adults, and he
was bloated all over and unconscious.
Three days later, Ivan died and was buried behind the gate of the cemetery.
On that day, dozens of dogs gathered in the yard of the cemetery near his
grave, howling and barking endlessly. The Jews of Lizhensk said:
The dogs are lamenting the death of Ivan, may peace be upon him. The
other brother, knows as Reb Mordechai Bogatz, then became part of the Jewish
landscape of Lizhensk. He grew a beard and peyos, and wore a black hat and
kapote. On the Sabbath, he wore a streimel and black bekishe (Hassidic hat and
cloak), and came to the synagogue to worship along with the rest of the Jews.
He got married according to the laws of Moses, raised a family and ate kosher
food. For his livelihood, he acted as a small-scale middleman, particularly
among the gentiles in the horse trade. I don't know if he earned enough to make
ends meat, however I always saw him on the days of the fair spurring on horses,
slapping their flanks and praising his merchandise to his buyers.
After the fairs, he would come to my father's tavern and drink together with
the gentiles as one of them.
He did not have to worry about his livelihood anymore, for his wife, the
Bogatzka, concerned herself with that. She was a professional
beggar from her youth. On weekdays she would stand at the entrance to the grave
of Rebbe Elimelech of holy blessed memory, and would not permit anyone to enter
the gravesite unless they gave her requested dues. People were afraid of her
strength, and gave her what she requested. On Sabbath and festival mornings,
she would go to the doors of the rich people with a large sack on her back and
collect cakes and strudel. She would not accept chala. She would bestow various
blessings upon her benefactors, each according to the situation. Woe to a
person who would offer her only a chala, for then her blessing would be turned
into a stream of invective which was worse than a curse.
Mordechai Bogatz died and left a widow and orphans.
Death came to them by means of the demonical German murderers.
[Page 236]
Motteleh The Fool of Lizhensk
by Matityahu Spergel
(from Those Who Deviated From the Group)
{Photo page 236 uncaptioned, seemingly the fool of Lizhensk}
We also had our own fool.
One's lot in life is not something predicable. It depends on comparison with
the lot of others, for better or for worse. Therefore it was good for everyone
in a town to be able to compare himself to someone who is less intelligent,
less successful, less adept at interpersonal relations, etc. This was the role
of the town fool in every town. It was impossible for a Jewish town
to not have someone like this with whom one could pride oneself in the
disgrace of the fool.
The name of our fool was Mottel or Mottenu.
He was born into a poor and forsaken household. He was an orphan from his
childhood; he did not know his parents; and he did not know any form of
childhood.
His mother died while she was still nursing him, and his father roved from town
to town to solicit donations. He returned to his family only on
very rare occasions.
Mottele grew up without a steady supply of food and without appropriate and
well fitting clothing. In the summer he would borrow a hat that was too large
for his head. It would rest upon his ears and hide his eyes. His body was
covered with rags that were never washed or aired out. His swollen feet were
shod in shoes that were too large and worn out. In the winter, he wore a hat
that was so big that it covered his face up to his nose, and his head was
pointed forward. He wandered about town aimlessly and nonsensical utterances
issued forth from his mouth. He spent his days in the Beis Midrash near the
oven, and at night he slept between the oven and the sink. The Beis Midrash was
his home, and its worshippers were his parents. To his good fortune, among
these parents there was one person who sincerely cared for him, Reb
Yossel the teacher. He was a believing Jew, upright and good hearted, and he
tended to him with an understanding and forgiving smile. He would provide him
with food and clothing to the best of his ability.
To us children, Mottenu was the source of constant amusement. We would spend
time with him and be amused by his antics, and in this manner we also came to
value Reb Yossel the teacher and his deeds.
At one point the news spread that Mottele had reached his thirteenth birthday
and attained the age of Bar Mitzvah. Shortly, it was rumored, Reb Yossel would
arrive with a pair of tefillin and arrange a ceremony whereby Mottele would put
on tefillin. It was as if a strange occurrence was about to occur, mixed up and
wondrous. How could someone who does not know the form of a letter put on
tefillin? How could he pray? How could he recite a blessing?
We stood in the Beis Midrash from the morning waiting for the event. In the
meantime we surrounded Mottenu, we mocked him, played tricks on him and amused
ourselves. He stood in the center, nodding his head like a large ox, his mouth
uttering moans on occasion, and his lips with the smile of an incoherent
person. He did not pay attention to our mocking. He was absorbed within himself.
In the meantime Reb Yossel the teacher arrived, glowing with the joy of the
mitzvah, as the true host of the event who knew how great the mitzvah was that
awaited him as he brought Mottenu into the yoke of commandments and Judaism.
He took out a new pair of tefillin from the festive sack, lifted the left
sleeve of the celebrant, and tied up the tefillin straps as he recited the
blessing in a loud voice. Mottele groaned something incoherent, and we children
answered Amen in a loud voice, accompanied by thunders of laughter and joy.
This happy event did not take place for only one day, for Reb Yossel tried to
repeat this for several days, and we
absorbed everything.
There was a second amusing event in out life that was tied up with our dear
fool Mottenu.
The town of Lizhensk merited to have its only guesthouse. With the help of well
to do people and other donors in our town, a guesthouse was established, so
that guests, charity collectors, lecturers and other travelers from various
Jewish communities would not have to sleep in the synagogue and on the streets.
Every beggar and guest would be able to have a prepared bed to sleep in,
replete with proper bedding. The beggars of the town had bedrooms with minimal
but adequate furniture.
What did Reb Yossel do? He took his adopted son Yossel, brought him to the
guesthouse, showed him to a room that was set aside for him, made up his bed,
and put him to sleep there. He glowed with happiness that his
protégé merited to have his own bed like a normal person. This
was a glorious and holy moment for all of us. We all were full participants in
the joy of the great mitzvah and the fine moment of Reb Yossel.
The following morning, when the first worshippers arrived at the Beis Midrash,
they were surprised to see their Mottenu sleeping on the floor between the oven
and the sink, as he was accustomed. When we asked him why he continued to sleep
there, he said: "I cannot sleep in a bed".
Thus, Mottenu remained the only privileged one who was permitted to
sleep in the Beis Midrash, until..
Until the terrible destruction of Lizhensk arrived. The Nazis included Mottenu
with the rest of the community, as one of them. He was killed on a calamitous
day along with the rest of the residents of Lizhensk.
[Page 239]
Memorials Noted Figures
My Brother Moshe Greisman of blessed memory
by Mina Miller
One of the original chalutzim of Lizhensk
{Photo page 239 Moshe Greisman of blessed memory.}
He was happy, full of energy, blessed with strength, quiet and deep. He had an
eternal smile on his face, and he was goodhearted. These were his traits and
mannerisms everyone who crossed paths with him in life became his friend.
He made aliya to the Land in 1930 with the first group of Hanoar Hatzioni
Akiva, and from that time until his tragic death, during his short time
in Israel, he was filled with optimism, happiness and boundless love of all who
surrounded him. He did not know weariness and despair, for he was diligent and
did not request much out of life. He satisfied himself with little and whoever
knew how to read his glowing and eternally happy face could not but be jealous
of him.
I remember my first visit with him the day after I arrived in Israel. At that
time, he already had left the Kibbutz. Naturally, for ideological reasons, when
he worked as a worker in Petach Tikva, he lived in a small room in a hut, with
a metal bed, and a half-meter long trunk with all of his belongings. The floor
was covered with scattered newspapers. I stood in surprise, and he laughed as
usual in response to the question that I did not yet have a chance to ask:
Thus is life in the Land, I do not need more. He did not require
much in order to be happy. At that time, I began to understand the adage:
Who is rich? He who is happy with his lot.[7]. He was happy with
his lot under any circumstance. He only saw the good and beautiful in
everything, and in situations that were not particularly beautiful, he used his
imagination to see things in a positive light.
I cannot remember Moshe ever being in a bad mood. Under any condition and
circumstance he had laughter on his very pleasant face, and his laughter exuded
optimism to all around him. He was pleasant in the home to his family, and he
was pleasant to his many friends in his various workplaces in Israel. He loved
people, and he loved the land. With every brick that was laid in the building
up of the Land, he rejoiced and jubilated as if it was his own personal
accomplishment.
Life was beautiful in his eyes, and he loved life. However, luck was
unfavorable to him, and when he went to work for the final time he did not
realize, and neither did we his closest relatives, that such a beautiful life,
filled with sunshine and happiness, was not to be for him, and that in the wide
world, there was not even to be a tiny place for him.
It was in the month of Av 5711 (1951), when he went to work for the final time,
and did not return. A fatal work accident cut off the flame of his young and
beautiful life when he was only 41 years old.
{Photo page 240 The parents of Moshe of blessed memory, along with his
brother and sisters.}
[Page 241]
Mordechai Arum of blessed memory
by Dvora Arom
{Photo page 241 Mordechai Arum of blessed memory en route to making
aliya.}
I met Mordechai while he was still in the Diaspora. I was on an aliya
preparation program (hachshara) in Slowikow, and he was on hachshara in
Bielsko. He visited us in our wooden bunks, and I visited his hachshara camp.
By coincidence, we made aliya together and we were together on hachshara in
Kfar Pines.
We got married two years before we came to live in Kfar Etzion, and I got to
know him from up close.
Mordechai was dedicated to his parents, and he honored them. He never argued
with them or contradicted them. However, he stood for what he believed in, and
did not hide his progressive outlook from them. He behaved properly toward them
whether they opposed him or not.
He was a man of the book, and whenever he had a chance, he would read. His
thirst for knowledge knew no bounds. His reading was ravenous and thoughtful,
as if he united himself with the book. His quest for knowledge was thwarted by
his parents, and was limited to religious studies. However through his own
efforts, and with his thirst for practical knowledge, he registered for
business school without the knowledge of his parents, and he studied there
despite their disapproval. This school was to him a route to practicality, and
a source of general knowledge.
On hachshara, he decided not to engage in clerkship, bur rather to become the
shoemaker of the kibbutz. This was a form of opposition to everything that was
acceptable to the older generation a Jew was required to learn not only
any trade, but even a denigrated trade that contains the route to freedom.
He went to a gentile in Bielsko, who was the shoemaker of that town, and
studied the trade there. Mordechai did not continue with this for much time,
since aliya interrupted his professional training.
Prior to his aliya to the Land, his mother took ill. Her illness was grave, and
Mordechai was troubled. He was the youngest child, who supported his mother in
her old age. How can he leave her on her sickbed? He almost decided to forego
his aliya, but his mother called him to her bedside and commanded him to go.
On the day he arrived in the Land, a telegram arrived with the news of the
death of his mother. On his first day in the Land, Mordechai began to sit Shiva.
When he arrived in Kfar Pines, he took over the position of accountant of the
group. At the same time, he would go daily to Karkur to apprentice in the trade
of shoemaking.
The shoemaker in Karkur was the son of shoemakers, and knew his trade from his
childhood. He did not know Hebrew, but only spoke Yiddish. Mordechai taught him
Hebrew in return for his teaching him shoemaking. Thus, while he was learning
his trade, he was engaged in cultural activities with his fellow.
He worked in shoemaking and cultural activities simultaneously also in Kfar
Etzion. He engaged in very serious matters, affairs of defense and life and
death. He was responsible for the local ammunition supply. He controlled the
weapons cache, and took courses in military supply. There was nothing in the
place that was done without his effort, dedication, or actual participation.
Mordechai was blessed with straightforward and logical decision making
abilities. People placed their faith in him and relied upon him. Mordechai was
quiet, strong, and always spoke to the truth to people.
As a family man, he was very patient with children. He was a dedicated father
and trained them with his natural calmness. He was a good family man, and
deliberate in his actions.
On May 14, 1948, during the massive attack upon Gush Etzion and our village,
Mordechai fell in the losing battle before the order to surrender was issued.
[Page 243]
Mordechai Feldman
From the newspaper,
Davar
Killed on Sunday night, 26 Tishrei, 5697 (1938)
{Photo page 243 Motek Feldman of blessed memory.}
He fell in the defense of Geda from a shot that was fired by the ambush. He was
a member of the Yagur farm. He was 23 years old. He made aliya two years
previously as a university student. He left his studied in March 1935, and
joined the Yagur farm. In the Diaspora, he was a member of the
Hitachdut group, and a student of the University of Lvov. He
studied chemistry and philosophy. He enlisted as a special guard, one of the
seven special guards who enlisted from the Yagur farm.
(Copied from the newspaper report)
[Page 244]
Aryeh Reichental of blessed memory
by Shlomo Tamir
(From speeches in his memory on the occasion of his yahrzeit commemoration,
and
printed in pamphlet 1432 of Tel Yosef farm, December 10, 1965.)
He left us when he was full with suffering, but according to the situation
today, not full of years. He was only 68. He was fully conscious until the day
of his death. He talked to his children, his grandchildren, and anyone who came
to visit him. There were days when he suffered from pains, when he was writhing
with suffering, when he was sustained by intravenous, pills, and fatigue
inducing medications, etc. Despite all this, there were days when he got out of
bed, walked around the room, ate and drank, talked to people, laughed when he
heard jokes, and took interest in the affairs of the farm. In accordance with
his request, he was taken to ballot box on the day of Knesset elections.
He was born in Lizhensk in Galicia. During the time of the First World War, he
lived in Vienna, and served in the army of the Austrian Kaiser Franz Josef. He
made aliya in 1920. During his first years in the land, he worked in street
maintenance and building. He got married in 1922. In 1923, he traveled with his
wife to visit Lizhensk. They stayed there for three years. After that, his
family returned to the Land and he traveled to Argentina. He also spent some
time in Brazil. He lived in South America for a year and then returned with his
family to the Land.
He worked hard for his entire life. He wandered from place to place. He lived
with his family in Jerusalem, Raanana, Tel Aviv (in a hut in the Nordia
district), and he came to us 17 years ago (in 1951), to his daughter Miriam and
her husband Mordechai Tamir. For most of his years in the Diaspora and in the
Land he worked as a chef, in the army camps, in the workers kitchens of Solel
Boneh, in the British Army camps, and for private individuals (such as the
chief justice Gad Frumkin and others). For many years, he spent the weekdays in
camps far from his family, in bunks and tents. He came home for the Sabbath.
There were long periods when his family lived in difficult conditions. Even
when he owned a private restaurant he would often give food to the hungry and
to those who were out of work. The list of people who owed him money was long
enough to fill a book. For the most part, he was not repaid, but nevertheless
he did not refuse to give food to anyone. He was naturally good hearted,
upright, and tended to answer positively any request for donations.
When he arrived at Tel Yosef, he brought in a sum of money in return for the
small dwelling which he received[8]. Until the day of his death he lived with
his wife Rachel (may she live long), in a small room literally 4 by 3. In the
latter years, it had a corner for a washroom (but not for a kitchen). Not
infrequently, his daughter Miriam, with Mottel and their five children stayed
over at his place. On occasion, his son Tzvi and his family of four children
from Kibbutz Maayan Baruch in the Galilee also came, as did his son Amnon from
Beit Shean along with his three children. He never said that the place was too
small.
For his entire time on the Kibbutz he worked in the kitchen. He was not always
satisfied with his work in the kitchen, with the behavior of the members to
him, with the routines and customs. He was used to working in institutions
where he was the boss, the head of the kitchen. Here he had to be satisfied
with being a cog in the wheel, to be dependent on the goodwill and willing to
take barbs from those who were many years his junior and who were less
intelligent than he was. He accepted everything with love.
In the later years, he had much pleasure from his children and twelve
grandchildren. He was hoping to merit to see the marriage of a grandchild, and
to become a great grandfather. Until his last days, he hoped that he would
regain his strength and is able to return to work.
Whenever I visited him in the hospital or in his room, I found him interested
in the issues of the movement, what was going on in Tel Yosef, and the
situation of his children and grandchildren. He was cared for faithfully by his
wife, children, and grandchildren. Miriam stayed with him day and night, as did
his sons from Maayan Baruch and Beit Shean. Bluma was with him on his final
evening, and she gave him a shot and pills. He and those around him never
ceased to praise the dedication and good work of Bluma and Dr. Barta, who came
to visit him often even when they were not called. He was writhing in pain that
night. They called Dr. Barta, and while he was being examined and being
prepared for an injection, he passed away.
A large group of members of the farm, his children, grandchildren, other
relatives, and people from all parts of the country came to participate in his
funeral. His casket was placed in the synagogue of the parents and in their
dining hall. His requests were filled, a tahara[9]
was performed, he was
wrapped in a tallis (prayer shawl), his children and grandchildren recited the
Kaddish prayer, and daily prayer services took place in his room during the
Shiva period. During the Shiva, no movie was shown on the farm, and the party
that was planned to take place on Friday night in the dining hall to mark the
end of the olive harvest was cancelled.
During the fifteen years in which he lived among us, we were accustomed to see
him at every celebration and every event that took place in the farm, along
with his children and grandchildren. He loved them and they returned his love.
They wailed publicly at the time of his death and during the funeral. This was
unusual for Sabras (native Israelis).
There is nothing we can do.
He left us. He left behind a legacy full of dedication, work, experiences,
wanderings, adventures, and help for his fellowman.
He left a large family behind, a family of workers. We hope that his children,
his grandchildren, and all of us will preserve his memory. His family will grow
up, they will make sure to name a grandchild or great grandchild after him, and
his memory will be perpetuated. May his family be comforted, and may all those
who knew him and were close to him be comforted.
[Page 246]
Reb Asher Zelig Miller of blessed memory
by Dov A.
{Photo page 246 Reb Asher Zelig Miller and his family.}
He was born in 1891 in Belzec[10]. He spent his childhood in that town, near
the Russian border, under Austrian rule. After the First World War he got
married and settled in Lizhensk. He quickly began to take part in the vibrant
Jewish life of the town.
He served as the prayer leader on the High Holydays in the Kloiz of Aguda, and
with his sweet and pleasant voice, and expertise, he would pour out
supplications to the Creator of the World.
He was a proud Jew, and it was difficult for him to bear the exile. In 1925, he
made aliya to the Land as a pioneer from his family, and for half a year he
made efforts to bring his family over. He did not find work, he did not succeed
in acclimatizing here, and he was forced to return to Lizhensk. There, he
continued to live in the town from the toil of his hands, and he maintained his
desire for the land of the patriarchs. At the outbreak of the Second World War
he wandered from our town, and the trials and tribulations began, which caused
him unspeakable suffering. During his wandering upon the face of the earth he
suffered from the indignity of hunger, and he lost his son. Our sages say about
this (Tractate Berachot, folio 5): Whoever occupied himself with Torah
and good deeds and buries his children will have all of his sins forgiven.
With Reb Asher Zelig Miller, all three of these conditions were fulfilled. He
occupied himself with Torah and good deeds, and his son David of blessed memory
died during his lifetime, and he did not merit to bury him, for he died as a
soldier fighting against the Germans, and his burial place is unknown.
His heart was pained by all of this. When he finally merited to arrive in
Israel in 1949, he was full of suffering and weariness, however his Jewish
pride was not damaged. It grew and became stronger, and he rejoiced in seeing
the children in Israel studying Torah and serving in the Israel Defense Forces.
He continued with his cantorial activities on the High Holydays, and the
residents of Kiriat Motzkin enjoyed his services and the fullness of his
Judaism.
In Israel he also occupied himself with Torah and good deeds. He shared the
little that he had with others. However his heart was not able to take
everything that happened to him, and all the suffering that he endured.
His heart ceased beating on the 11th
of Tevet 5714 (1954) in Kiryat Motzkin.
May his soul be bound in the bonds of eternal life.
[Page 248]
Fishel Spergel of blessed memory
The word Zionism was an exalted ideal for us, and everyone
actualized it in his own way: one would prepare himself for a productive life
in the Land, another would gather money for the funds for the Land of Israel,
and there were those who took positions of honor in various representative
capacities. Fishel Spergel was of the latter, who was engaged in arduous work.
Quietly, as if in stealth, he came to our clubhouse on cold winter nights
for the most part, our clubhouse was not heated leaving at home a
beautiful wife and son. He would come after a difficult day of work in his
store, and he would read to us poems of Bialik.
We studied Hebrew from various professional teachers, however we loved in
particular those poems of Bialik. We learned to read and to love literature
only due to him, for he had a special way of teaching, and he had a special
charm in the way he explained and brought to life the poems, their content and
ideas.
Every evening of reading of that sort was like a holiday. He was one of a kind,
who came constantly to teach us to read and understand the poems of Bialik.
There were other adult Zionists who were able to give over much to the youth
groups, however they did not find the free time for that purpose. Fishel
Spergel found the time and the will to teach us, and his dedication to this
difficult task was perhaps one of the reason for the breakup of his family
life, and finally their tragic separation. Let his short section be a thankful
memorial to his life.
M. H.
[Page 249]
David Miller of blessed memory
by Dov Ausubel
{Photo page 249 David Miller}
David studied in the cheder and in the public school, like the rest of the
children of Lizhensk. From an early age, he spent his entire day at school, in
the morning in the public school and in the afternoon in the Talmud Torah.
When he was still a child, he displayed exceptional talent in his studies and
in arts and crafts. I still remember the illustrated sign on the wall of the
Talmud Torah, which was the work of his hands. His name was signed in the lower
left corner. This sign was written in large Hebrew letters, which caused joy to
the hearts of the children. The large prominent Hebrew letters, which were
noticed also by the adults, proclaimed the continuity of Judaism in the midst
of a hostile gentile environment.
It is possible to state that if he would have been raised and educated in a
different city, he would have developed his talents fully and attained
greatness. Lizhensk was tiny, and it was impossible to find the appropriate
schools in the area that would have been necessary to develop his rich
potential.
David did not leave our small town. Despite this, his soul was interested in
the wide world. From an early age, David had to forgo his own desires and the
needs of his youth in order to help sustain his parents. His faithfulness to
his parents was particularly prominent during the time of the war and the many
wandering which came at that time. He did not abandon them, and worked hard in
order to support their hungering souls.
When the time came that he was enlisted to the Red Army, he went out to the
front with a heavy hart. His parents were left behind with nobody to care for
them. This weighed upon him heavily, however he took comfort that on the front
he would be able to help destroy the enemy of our people, the demon of our
generation.
David merited to pursue the retreating Nazis, who were retreating in fear of
revenge. As he was pursuing them during their retreat, he arrived in the
destroyed Lizhensk, however he did not merit witnessing the final victory over
him.
On the 4th
of Shvat 5704 (1944), he was shot by an enemy bullet, and he fell in battle.
May we guard his memory forever.
[Page 250]
My Father-In-Law Moshe Naftali (Monia) Teicher
of blessed memory
As I Remembered Him
Above everything, Reb Moshe Naftali Teicher loved chazzanut (cantorial arts).
He loved to sing, and was able to do so well. When he sang, his soul was so
stirred within himself as he scaled the heights of music, until it seemed that
he was able to penetrate the celestial gate of melody.
It is not in vain that it is stated that the gate of melody is found next to
the gate of mercy, for also the compassion of Reb Moshe Naftali of blessed
memory was without bound. He had a heart that did not and was not able to turn
away from the tribulations of his fellow. When he still lived in Lizhensk,
surrounded by the comforts of his home, he regularly invited poor people into
his home and fed them. Even during the years of wandering the breadths of
Siberia, during the time of war and famine, he never hesitated in sharing his
scanty bread with someone who was in need. Not only this, but when he heard
that a Jew had come out of prison and was ill, forlorn, and infested with lice,
he would take him into his house, wash him with his own hands, clothe him and
support him until he was able to fend for himself. Even here, when he arrived
in the Land of Israel, his hand was open to anyone who was in need. Anyone who
inquired knew that for matters of loans and charitable deeds, one could turn to
Reb Moshe Naftali, and one would always be answered positively.
Despite the fact that his pedigree was prestigious, and his family tree could
be traced generation after generation to the holy sage Rashi, I never heard him
boasting about this. I never even heard him mention this. Reb Moshe Naftali
(Monia) Teicher of blessed memory was so modest and discreet.
Signed by his son-in-law N. Engelberg
[Page 251]
{Photos on page 251 Monia Teicher and his daughters of blessed memory.}
[Page 252]
The Father of my Grandmother Dov (Ber) Strauch
The father of my grandmother was a G-d fearing Jew, as were most of the Jews of
Lizhensk at that time. He was a communal activist from his young days, and he
spent most of his time serving the Jewish community. After the great fire that
broke out in the town, he was one of those who put effort into rebuilding the
synagogue. He frequented the home of the rabbi and the communal leadership. If
there was a dispute, they would turn to him as an arbiter, since he was known
for his sharpness and honesty.
This was the father of my grandmother, whose name I bear.
My grandmother related the facts above to me.
Dov Engelberg, a student in Grade 7 of the Moria school
[Page 255]
The Ups and Downs of Fate
by M. Spergel
Memorial Candles to Two Friends
They were friends from childhood, from grade one in the elementary school.
Later they studied together in the Hebrew school. Together they dreamed of
aliya and actualizing their dreams. Together they joined the Akiva Hebrew
Youth youth movement. It seemed that they would continue along the paths
of their lives together, and their strong bonds of friendship, which had
withstood several tests, would continue.
With the coming of the time of disaster, their orderly lives were separated.
Life broke out into tortuous paths in the forest of the tribulations of the
Second World War.
The two of them remained inseparable as long as was possible Riva
Roitman and Henia Spergel.
When the Germans entered Lizhensk, the order was given to leave the town, to
cross the San, and never to return to Lizhensk. Riva went immediately to Henia
to discuss with her about what was to come. During the course of the
conversation, Riva asked Henia if she knew the whereabouts of the jewelry of
her late mother, and advised her to remove it from its hiding place in the wall
and take it with her on her journey, for during the dark days, life would be
ransomed for silver and gold.
Henia listened to her, and she had deep fears in her heart. For a moment it
seemed as if it would be best to leave everything in its place for when life
would return to what it was, and she would return to the town. However the
advice of her friend weighed upon her and she took the mementos of
mother, bundled them up in a bundle and kept them close to her heart for
the flight.
When they arrived at the San, the Germans commanded them to leave all valuables
and jewelry behind on a blanket that was spread out for that purpose, and
whoever would disobey this command would be shot on the spot.
Her previous fears came back. She was disgruntled in her heart with the advice
of her best friend, and for a moment it seemed that she would lose the last
connection to her former life when normal life would begin again. However she
knew that Riva's advice was made with the best of intentions, and she accepted
the situation calmly and with forgiveness. She took out the bundle from its
hiding place, ready to hand it over when her turn came.
That moment, a German came to her, and with a serious expression uttered the
command: hide that. She was confused, for she did not know what was
the intention of this enemy. She hesitated, however he repeated his command,
and she returned the bundle to its hiding place. Then, the Nazi removed from
the line, and placed her at the side. Henia knew that her fate had been sealed.
The Nazi would be able to prove that he found a violator of the command, and
her death would be certain. The German looked around from side to side and when
he saw that none of his colleagues were looking, he took a handful of gold
coins from the pile of gold that was at his feet, gave it to Henia, brought her
by force to the bridge, and commanded her not to return.
The Jews who were around did not understand what transpired here. Nobody
expected such a deep display of humanity from the Germans.
The paths of the friends, remnants of a group of beloved friends, also
separated.
Riva Roitman remained in western Ukraine. The Germans chased her as a hunted
animal. She was lost trace of and nobody knows what became of her.
Henia endured the tribulations of the war in the forests of Russia. Her life
was filled with suffering, travails, disasters, and hunger. The event at the
San strengthened her in her belief in life and her will to stay alive. She
endured everything and arrived in Israel.
Her in Israel, she hoped that she would have a peaceful life, however the
remnants of her struggle for life left their mark. She was stricken with a
terrible disease and her life ended.
[Page256]
Chaitzi Diamond
by Mina
Chaya Diamond was one of the founders of the Akiva Youth
Organization in our town. With her sure and steady direction, and her
healthy laughter, she instilled security and strength into all of us, even
though she was the same age as us.
She was one of the first volunteers for any activity of the group. She always
found the free time and the positive desire, whether it was to collect charity
boxes of the Jewish National Fund in the homes, to prepare a festive event, or
to go out to a meeting with branches from neighboring towns. She was not
hesitant to wear a large white band and march along the streets of the town at
the head of a parade. She was always one of the first to go out to a summer
moshava program, and from her, we would also gain the strength to be able to
stand up to the demands of our parents.
Chaitzi was the strongest and most powerful of all of our friends. She was very
fortunate in that she made aliya together with her parents and his sisters, and
she did not have to deal with separation and longing for her parents' home. Her
constant, infectious smile stayed with her.
When I arrived in Israel, I hurried to visit Jerusalem, and went to visit her
in her parents' home. Her heartwarming laughter that I was familiar with from
the past greeted me once again. In every encounter with her, I remember her
smile, literally from ear to ear, pasted upon her face.
During the final time that I saw her, we were visiting together in Ramat
Rachel, and she talked a great deal about the headaches that she had been
suffering from. After that time, I never heard her deep laughter again. This
was the beginning of the end', and it was most unfortunate. It is
unfortunate about her loss.
Chaitzi Diamond went to her rest so young and full of desire for life.
[Page 261]
The Last Days in Lizhensk
by Yitzak Tantzman
translated by
Zygmunt Frankel
Wellington, New Zealand
Lizhensk. Sunday 27th
August 1939. In the warm Elul days the Jews of all Poland in general and
Lizhensk in particular used to come to the Rebbe Elimelech's grave expressing
repentance. Yamin Noraim (days of awe) were already in sight and we felt the
heavy paces of the Second World War approaching.
Jews from Lizhensk used to meet in small groups in the street and discuss how
the Polish State would be able to stand up against the aggression of the
Germans. At that time we didn't know that a great tragedy awaited the Polish
Jewry in general and, of course, the Lizhensk Jews amongst them.
Everyone had their own point of view, but one thing was understood that
the Jews would suffer greatly. But we couldn't predict how great the troubles
would be.
Days passed quickly and then troubles came to Lizhensk. Thursday night 31st
August Germany declared war against Poland and sent Nazi murderers into our
midst to ruin our European culture. Friday 1st
September we felt the war already in our town. The first aeroplanes had shown
themselves in Lizhensk and just flew past. We felt that this was only the
beginning. The same Friday night Jews in the synagogues of Lizhensk prayed with
great devotion. In the meantime we received various pieces of news. That the
German Nazis were moving forward with great force and occupying the cities and
town of Poland. The rumor was that wherever they went they took all men
prisoners. This created a great panic in our little shtetl. The men hurriedly
started to organize and plan how to leave town.
The Germans then bombarded our shtetl and destroyed the railway line. That was
the only communication with external life for our shtetl. Lizhensk self-defense
organized a group who started to repair the railway line. I myself was in this
group, but the German aeroplanes showed themselves over us and started to shoot
at us with machine guns and so disturbed our work. Black clouds began to gather
over our shtetl and from far away one could hear the heavy footsteps of the
Nazi murderers. Men of Lizhensk, young and old, prepared themselves to flee the
city a week after the outbreak of war.
Friday night the shtetl Lizhensk compared to a cooking vessel. There was bustle
and noise everywhere as the men prepared to leave the city. That Friday night,
the men of Lizhensk ate their Sabbath meal in great haste. Like a swarm of
locusts the streets were filled with men leaving the town. People headed off in
different directions. Some to Urzohow and some to Kurylovka. Everyone tried to
get to the San River. There were some who tried to go to Greater Poland or to
reach the border of Romania and in this way avoid falling into the hands of the
Germans.
The days in Lizhensk were black and sad, very sad, after the men left. Two days
later the German murderers entered in and proceeded to ruin the town. They
burnt the synagogues and terrorized the women and children who were left behind.
Within a few days the Germans had occupied all the territories where the men
had run away to and a few of them started to return to Lizhensk.
Rosh Hashannah, and the city was almost without men. Only the men who had no
strength to go were left in the city on Rosh Hashannah. While we were praying,
the Germans expelled everyone from the synagogues and destroyed them with
explosives. By Yom Kippur almost all the men had returned home. The eve of Yom
Kippur was disastrous. Jews could no longer go praying at the synagogues. Many
went to nearby villages because there one could still pray with a minyan
(quorum). Mostly people just stayed at home and everyone found themselves a
corner and prayed, fasting and asking God to be redeemed from the German
murderers.
On Yom Kippur night various rumors circulated about the Germans expelling the
whole population from the city. The following evening (Sunday) Jews asked one
another, what will happen, will the Germans really expel us from our town? The
majority did not believe that such a thing could happen. One tried in such a
way to hide oneself from the reality, until the infamous Tuesday came. That
evening the city policeman, Peterkevich, with his known drum came to inform us
that tomorrow, Wednesday 20th
September, at 8.00 am in the morning all the Jews who lived in Lizhensk should
gather in the market place to leave Lizhensk, carrying only hand baggage.
That was the main blow to our shtetl. That very night people started running in
a panic. Many people ran straight to the nearby villages, brought horses and
carts and packed them with what they could and went to the far shore of the
river San. A few waited for a miracle, possibly that the order would be
revoked. Tuesday night dragged on like the exile, until the early morning came
and hope faded into oblivion. The German Gestapo came, together with the
Volksdeutschen[1].
They went house to house through the town expelling the people from their
rooms. Everyone had his pitiful parcel in hand, crying eyes and a heavy heart.
All gathered in the market place, all the remaining Jews of Lizhensk, and
waited for their bitter fate. At 10 o'clock in the morning we received the
command from the Gestapo and then the sad march of Lizhensk Jews, who were
rooted in hundreds of years of history, started. Thus proceeded the traditional
march of the Jewish people, known as wanderers for 2000 years of exile.
We were surrounded by hundreds of German Gestapo murderers. We were marched out
of our hometown, some with a parcel in hand and some carrying a small child.
That was the last road from our dear holy shtetl, the shtetl of the holy Rebbe
Elimelech of blessed memory.
They led us to the river San and there they brought us over through a temporary
bridge to Kurilovka. It was just on the eve of Sukkot when we came to
Kurilovka. The Russians were already there. We fulfilled the commandment of
sitting in the Sukkah, and thus ended the chapter of Lizhensk Jewry.
Now, 27 years after the beginning of the war and 21 years after it has
finished, there is only one Jew left in Lizhensk. He returned from Russia and
now occupies himself with gathering Jewish memorabilia and holy books. His name
is Baruch Safir. That is the summary of Lizhensk.
[Page 265]
A Rescued Child
see page 72
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TRANSLATOR'S FOOTNOTES
-
This statement was made by the matriarch Rachel to her husband Jacob when her
sister Leah had already given birth to four children, but she was still
childless. The second verse Am I in G-d's stead is the next verse,
where Jacob retorts to Rachel that it is not within his power to grant
children.
Back
-
This verse was stated by the matriarch Rebecca when her twin children were
fighting within her womb.
Back
-
Chumash refers to any one of the five books of the Pentateuch (Torah). The word
itself is a variation of the word
Chamesh (five).
Back
-
Jacob is here describing on his deathbed the death of his wife Rachel.
Back
-
A gentile who is paid or commissioned to do acts on the Sabbath that are
forbidden to Jews, such as turning on lights
and heat.
Back
-
Boga is the Polish word for god.
Back
-
A quote from the Mishnaic tractate of Pirke Avot, which is replete with ethical
adages.
Back
-
An Israeli Kibbutz works on a collective socialist basis, where every member
gives over a sum of money in return for receiving a place of residence,
furniture, meals, etc.
Back
-
Tahara is the ritual washing and preparation of a body for burial that is
mandated by Jewish law. Apparently, the Kibbutz was secular, and Jewish
religious tradition was generally not observed, but according to his request,
in his case, the traditional Jewish burial and mourning practices were
observed. The 'synagogue of the parents' may refer to a synagogue built on the
Kibbutz for the use of the elderly members, or the parents of the members, who
were still interested in Jewish practice.
Back
-
Belzec, a Polish town near the present day border with Ukraine, was later to
become the infamous site of one of the most notorious Nazi death camps.
Back
-
Usually Poles of German Ethnic origin.
Back
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