[Column 242]

Among the cities and towns of Poland, Ludmir was considered to be a small town. But in the Jewish world it was recognized as a town of historic importance, one of the cities of the Council of Four Lands. In the Hassidic world there was the famed “Maiden of Ludmir,” the Hassidic teacher who taught words of Torah like one of the great righteous men. It was said of her that her soul was the reincarnation of a great soul, who had to correct the misdeeds of her first incarnation in the body of this maiden.

In the world of great Torah scholars you Ludmir, were known as a residence of the honored Tosefot Yom Tov [book by Rabbi Yom Tov Lippman Heller].When the householders did not honor him but chased him out of the city, on Sabbath eve a curse (unintentionally) escaped from his mouth, which persisted for generations, that there would never be a rabbi in Ludmir. And indeed, from that day on, Ludmir had only religious court judges [dayanim] and no rabbis. That is, no chief rabbis (only government appointed rabbis.) He cursed his generation, and indeed, the municipal electric power station was built on the old cemetery and in the Large Synagogue I was shown an empty corner of the roof. The synagogue did not last even though it was repaired many times. The corner always remained empty, like a broken vessel.

In the old cemetery there was the burial place of Rabbi Aharon the Great of Karlin, who was called by everyone Mashiah ben Yosef [the Messiah son of Joseph]. When I was a little boy I could not differentiate between the Messiah the son of David and the Messiah the son of Joseph, and I could not understand how the Messiah could have died and been buried in the cemetery in Ludmir, and we await his coming every day…

The city of my birth! When I was fifteen years old I left you and wandered among the yeshivot in Lithuania, where I studied Torah. When I visited you, it seemed that the city had not changed at all. The same good hearted Jews, sitting in the synagogues and the Hassidic shtiblakh [prayer houses]. Here I go down from Sinkevits Street and there is prayer house after prayer house. There is the Stefiner prayer house with its honored men and scholars, and a few steps later there is the Trisker prayer house with its group of young scholars, among whom I, too, was counted. [The author uses the word, ha–katan, the small one, or minor one, to show his modesty.]You continue walking down the narrow alleys, and almost opposite the municipal vegetable market, is the Kozmierer prayer house. That is part of the Chernobyler dynasty with his honor the Rabbi of Keltz. After another few houses, small huts, and you are at the Karliner prayer house, and there are the Stolin Hassidim, a fusion of Polesia and Volhyn. And if you are not lazy, and enter between the rows of butcher shops with the smell of meat wafting from every pillar near the butcher shops, you are at the prayer house of the Hassidim of Kotsk. On the other side of Sinkevits Street there are two prayer houses. One is the prayer house of the rabbi of Ludmir, Rabbi Pinhas'l and a bit further on the prayer house of the Hassidim of Radzin. Now come with me towards the center of town near the stock exchange, and there is the prayer house of the Hassidim from Zlatopol, or as it was called by the people of Ludmir, “the upper story prayer house” because it was on the second story. If you walk in the direction of the cemetery, and cross the center of town, there is the prayer house of the Lubavitch Hassidim and a bit further in, the building of the Talmud Torah “Bet Bobes” where is also the prayer house of the Hassidim of Belz.

And now my countryman, you are done! And then there are the kleyzlakh [prayer houses by occupation] built next to the large synagogue, the kloyz of the tailors, and of the shoemakers, and of the wagon drivers, and opposite the large and small synagogues there is the large hut divided into two parts. On the street towards Luck, there is the prayer house of Yisrael Shulman and in the street leading to Kovel, the prayer house of Volf Yohanzon and the prayer house of the Home for the Aged, almost at the cemetery, and the prayer house of “Hamizrahi” and of the Agudah.

You have been destroyed Ludmir, and you are deserted without a dweller, as are all the cities of Jewish Poland. But I see you from afar, like a big prayer house, where men, women, and children go in every day to pray and pour out their hearts before the King of the World. I see you, my dear ones of Ludmir, and you have gone up in a holy fire of all the varieties of Hassidism to the heights of heaven, in the four deep pits going up to Ostila, you are buried, babies and sucklings, old men and wise men, God fearing and praisers of His name. Even in the quiet days we knew that we lived among wolves, that is, the cursed Ukrainians, who used to gather at the fairs on the lot belonging to Hayim Simha near the Trisker prayer house, eating the other thing [i.e. pork] and looking through the open windows at the Hassidim in their tallit and tefillin. We knew we were sitting on a volcano and with time the sons of Esau would arise and cause wounds of death in Israel, but we believed that there would be a miracle. We hoped but “One hopes for relief but behold there is grief.”[Loosely based on Isaiah 5:2.]

[Columns 243-244]

Ludmir: the city of more than twenty Hassidim prayer houses and many study halls. The Large Synagogue with the small synagogues, a fishermen's synagogue, a tailors' synagogue, a porters' synagogue. These toiling Jews, who did not have enough bread to satisfy their hunger, with what a great love they used to come together! Their brotherliness, their devotion to each other! The charity boxes! Who does not remember the Ludmir sextons, who did not have enough wood in their homes to warm themselves, and yet they supported many families anonymously. They concerned themselves not only with bread, but also that the poor should have khalles for Shabbes. Who does not remember the sacks of khalles which they used carry? So the other men envied them and set up the famed Hevres Lehem [Bread Society]

But these pious sextons could not rest, they had to do more good deeds. They had to concern themselves for the poor, so that each child should have a cookie for Shabbes so they set out with boxes and went from house to house, collecting cookies for the poor children for Shabbes.

So should I describe the white bearded Ludmir Jew who sat at the hoof all week long [blacksmith?] and on Shabbes morning went up to the upper story prayer house and stood at the lectern and piously chanted Psalms with the traditional melody. Or should I describe the exhausted porter, who was frozen standing all day in the market place, looking for someone to call him to carry a sack of flour on his shoulders, or to roll a barrel of herring from place to place. And in the evening, when he comes into the Large Synagogue, with what pleasure he goes to the lectern and with a sweet melody intones the afternoon prayer. At that moment, who is like him? And he does not keep accounts with the Master of the Universe about how much income he gave him today, and if he has enough money for his wife to make supper. With a bang on the lectern he says “Ashrei Yoshvei Beisekho” [Happy are those who dwell in your house =opening prayer], and he has forgotten everything.

Even those Jews who were not scholars knew when the fast days occurred. And the mason who repaired ovens did not work on the first day of the month.

Who can describe the magnificence of the Zlatopoler, the so called “upper story prayer house”, where unmarried young men sat at one table. They worked at various jobs all day long, and when they were through they would sit in deep study of the Gemara; and at a second table there sat scholarly Jews, and at the third table there were non–learned Jews where one man taught them a chapter of Mishne. Near the oven Jews sat discussing worldly matters, but quietly, in order not to disturb those who were studying. In the women's section there stand a group of porters, sharing their wages, by the light of a candle, for they did not touch the charity box money. And there in a corner, almost unseen, sits a small Jew, very modest, who does not want to be observed in his studies. This Jew would standup respectfully even in the presence of a young boy.

Who among us does not remember the beautiful and many branched “Tiferes Bahurim Hevra” [The Glory of Young Men Society], with their refined leaders, one of whom received a prize from the Warsaw Tognblat for his clever essay on the subject of Khanike, and another one who worked in a bank and gave the large part of his earnings to Torah institutions. The evenings were divided among various lessons: a group of boys sat around a Gemara volume, another group around a Mishne, and another group at a Bible with the Orakh Hayim [commentary]. This society was indeed a large one, because it was non–partisan, and its leaders came from all the parties. How deep is our sorrow when we remember that it is all gone.

[Columns 246-247]

Ludmir – the city of my birth, the landscape of my childhood, a vast, colorful, landscape, with various shades of forests, up to the Luga River, from the river to the road to Luck, up to the forest of the village of Verba, where my mother Malka, zal, was born. The village later became a haluts hakhshara [teaching agriculture to young people preparing to go to Palestine], on the way to the city of Kovel –I wandered all over this landscape: on boats on the calm Luga, riding over the fields, and walking through the pine and oak and birch trees, gathering mushrooms and picking raspberries and blackberries.

In the “hills” of my town –the chalk heights near the river – I saw the image of the hills of Erets Yisrael, and in the waters of the Luga –the Jordan overflowing its banks…

I was educated to this double vision from the time I first opened my eyes to see the world. One view was real, often threatening, but always actual; and the second – abstract, yearning, messianic…

And who were my teachers? I will not err if I say that they were my brothers, the sons of Jewish Ludmir, of all statuses and gradations in the positive sense, and on the other hand the gentiles, the decent ones and mainly the ones who were not decent in the negative sense and their hatred of mankind.

Now I see before my eyes various types, who influenced me during my impressionable childhood days. Here is the porter, R' Moshe, “Were you looking for me?” who, as he walked, would turn his head from time to time and look behind him as if to see if he was being called to work, to carry a burden, and his rope was always hung from his shoulder, and his hand held it, like a soldier holds his rifle –always prepared!

Now R'Moshe had participated in the Russo–Japanese War and had returned healthy and sound (only he would turn his head from side to side suddenly, and that is how he got the nickname: “Were you looking for me?”) Moshe was not afraid of soldiers or the low lifes who would get drunk on their holidays and on Sundays .When they would go out into the Jewish neighborhood, drunk with vodka, to have fun…R' Moshe was one of the first to stand in their way; with a roar he would assemble his friends, the porters and the wagoners from the courtyard of the Large Synagogue, and the butchers would soon join them (a daring gang!) the tinsmiths, the furriers, the cap makers, and the other artisans, …and how I rejoiced when I was sitting with Duda my friend, the son of R' Minkl the tinsmith, on the roof of our house, and we would wonder at the “war” which R' Moshe was conducting: Hit him in the face! Bash the crate on his head! Put the barrel on him! Hit him hard! and by the time the police showed up, the drunks were rolling in the puddles and their wives were weeping near them.

In the evenings we children would gather in my father's shtibl, “the Lyubavitcher shtibl” of Habad. When I grew up I was full of awe and admiration for many of these Habadniks. A word aside: Habad = Hokhma, Bina, Ve–Da'at. [Wisdom, Understanding, and Knowledge] It was at this shtibl that the elite of the town would come, the scholars and the wise men, the Zionist intelligentsia and the ordinary Hassidim who knew a page of Mishneh and Gemara. Among the congregants were the families of Bardah, Yellin, Bokster, Geller. Rabbi Shmuel Ingber, a man of remarkable devotion to Hassidim, who would dance with the youth on Simhat Torah until he had no more strength. He was the force behind the rebuilding of the shtibl at the time of the First World War.

There the ordinary people would come, the Zionist group, with Avraham Ha–Tsiyoni at their head, who used to put aside one tenth of all the income from the sale of aliyot for the Keren Kayemet Le–Yisrael.

The man who chanted the additional prayers on Shabbat and on the high Holidays was Rav Alter the sexton, whose melodies I remember to this day because of the pathos with which he chanted. Years later when I lived in Canada I would go from synagogue to synagogue on Yom Kippur, searching for someone who would chant with the same pathos and I could not find one. My friend Ya'akov Zipper, the writer and teacher, asked me what I was looking for. I answered “For the pathos of Rav Alter.”

And here I am sitting in a corner of the shtibl at twilight with all the boys, listening to the stories of old Rav Barukh. He used to journey to the Rebbe and when he returned, all the esteemed members of the shtibl would come to listen to him. Until this day I remember R' Barukh's stories about the Besht [Ba'al Shem Tov, founder of Hassidism] and about the holy rabbi, about how R' Shneur Zalman the holy one sat in jail and how he met the Tsar. There were wonderful stories about the “Maiden of Ludmir”, who wore tefillin and wrapped herself in a tallit and was the reincarnation of a great righteous man…and he would point to her shtibl, the upper story shtibl, which still existed in the center of town. And how our hearts beat with fear when he told about the Christian church whose bells rang at the time of the funeral of a righteous man who had died, and suddenly when the funeral procession came close to the church, the righteous man rose from his funeral bed and cursed the church: “You shall utterly detest it and you shall utterly abhor it for it is a cursed thing”[Deuteronomy VII:26] Then the righteous man lay back down and fell asleep. At that moment the earth swallowed the church and its bells. Only a pit remained and was filled with water covered by greenery so that the icons would not be seen under the water, and the water has not dried up or diminished to this day…

And my teachers? How I loved them. Here is R'Avraham, the son and assistant of R' Hayim Motl the righteous teacher –he carried me to heder [one room school]on his shoulders on winter days … he would pinch my cheek when I finished reading the chapter of Leviticus…

“This Shabbat will be the ceremony of your completing the course and we shall drink a “le–hayim” [toast] in the shtibl after the services,” he informed me.

And then I graduated to the “Humash[Pentateuch] teacher” Rabbi Ben Tsiyon. Ben Tsiyon had a special nickname, “R' Ben Tsiyon drunkard but not from wine” and R'Ben Tsiyon alav hashalom [may he rest in peace ] was a great artist. He was inspired and inspirational. On winter evenings before we went home he would read to us from Josippon [tenth century historical narrative attributed to Josephus] and other commentaries and dramatize before us how Yehuda Gur Arieh went before the righteous Joseph the vizier and demanded the return of young Benjamin. And Yehuda's hair stood up like spears. But young Efrayim, the son of Joseph, climbed on the shoulder of the hero Yehuda and the latter bent over in pain and whispered, “ He is indeed of the seed of our father Jacob—since he is so strong in his beating.”

[Column 247]

And Rabbi Ben Tsiyon really appeared “drunk”. His dramatic ability was such that until this day I remember how he sat or stood (according to the role he was playing) and I shall not exaggerate if I say that I have never seen a better actor.

After I grew up I became a haluts [pioneer]. Before leaving for Erets Yisrael I went to receive farewell blessings from my beloved teacher, Ben Tsiyon the drunk. I found him outside his heder in the tailor's synagogue. He was happy to see me and he said to me: “Bend down and I shall bless you.” And I, the tall young man dressed in the uniform and cap of the Polish gymnazium, lowered my head in the middle of the street before Rabbi Ben Tsiyon and all the people around wondered what was happening. And he calmly put his hands on my head and blessed me: May God make you as Efrayim and Menashe and may it be His will that our Holy Land will atone for all your sins.”

All the people standing by and the children of the heder were curious to know what was this wonderful happening. What did Rabbi Ben Tsioyn have to do with this “shegets” [gentile]? “He is not a gentile, he is a student, the son of Rav Aharon Verbai (the name of the village Verba where my grandfather, the father of my mother, Rabbi Shmuel Honik may he rest in peace, lived). And he has come to say goodbye to me before he leaves for our Holy Land” Rav Ben Tsiyon cried. Was it from the pleasure he received from his student, or perhaps from longing for the Holy Land?

And where is my teacher, R' Yisrael Srak[?] who taught Gemara in the Ludmir Yeshiva? He was still a young man, with a short blond beard garlanding his handsome face. How handsome you were, Rav Yisrael, when you stood near the dais and your voice was as sweet as the melody of a violin?

[Column 248]

All of this was before the outbreak of the First World War. From that time I passed through many relocations. First I was sent to a modern Zionist Hebrew school. The teachers were the best of our youth: the Lipsker family, Yehoshua Kliner, Yitshak Shuster, Slobovsky, and the Jewish officer from Lvov, from the Austrian army, Zimerman –all outstanding educators and unparalleled in their dedication. They loved us and raised us and nourished us in the light of the prophets' visions…

My father used to praise them after every visit to the school. He would send a sealed envelope, in my hand, with double tuition fees, for every holiday in addition to Hanukka money and Purim gifts. And I learned from my father to esteem my Hebrew teachers with all the warmth and purity of my heart.

And where is my teacher, Yitshak Shuster, the teacher who taught me then in the “Sefaradi pronunciation” as preparation for living in the Land of Israel. He went to the Holy Land but could not succeed. He struggled for years and came back. The Board of Education argued that he did not have a teaching certificate and was over 35. So my teacher Shuster, who was an excellent teacher, started “cooking” carpenters' glue in a pit (a kind of oven in the ground) in Ir Ganim, now Ramat Gan. He made superhuman efforts to become a proletariat, but he was unable to establish a workshop for carpenters' glue, with bones and without funds, and with the carpenters unwilling to use the glue made in the primitive factory of Ir Ganim. My teacher Shuster was disappointed and he returned. And where is he now? Many returned, were uprooted, and are gone…

And where are my hundreds of classmates from the Hebrew school? Only a few succeeded in coming to the Land. I have photos of the school from the years 1915–1916 and my eyes gaze at the faces and I know the fate of only a few dozen. That is, I know that they did not tread on the land of their hopes.

Parne Street – the main street of Ludmir

Here is a photograph of the “Dor Ha–Tsa'ir” Society [Young Generation], twenty eight of us, 21 young men and seven young women, who were among the founders. Hundreds followed them. Of the twenty eight, only two remained in the Land [of Israel]. Where are the rest of the group who studied in the Russian Gymnazie? And of the group from Ludmir who studied in Kovel between 1920–1923 only two are in the Land, I and Shperber, who was the youngest of the group, who survived the Holocaust and reached the Land at the end of the Second World War. Where is clever Grushko and Mikhla Shmukler with his sense of humor? Levinzon, who was so serious and willing? Ekiyahu Katz, the mathematical genius? The three Barkner brothers, the “engineers”? And the others, are they really gone?

And what happened to the hundreds of youths and children who belonged to the movements? The children of the plain folk, who afterwards became pioneers and diligent workers? I want to memorialize one of these young people, so that his name will be remembered, and he will be like the unknown soldier upon whose grave I shall bring a flower wreath on Memorial day.

He was Dudi the son of R' Yankl the son of R' Itshe, a tinsmith the son of generation of tinsmiths. Dudi did not attend a modern school. He learned how to read and write when he was quite old, because he helped his parents from his early childhood to bring bread to the house! Dudi was handsome and could do everything. He taught me how to make bows and arrows for Lag Be–Omer, masks for Purim, and to sing Purim songs, to gather reeds, and greenery for Shavu'ot and sukka roofs for Sukkot. He taught me how to swim in the river and how to fight the gentile boys who would suddenly appear and try to sink our clothes in the river. When he grew up he became an electrician and an outstanding tinsmith. He went to work for the army in Poland, and when I left for the Land in 1923, he came home on leave. He looked splendid in his sergeant's uniform, with a large feather in his cap, tall and good looking, and with a long sword on his side like a hussar. Dudi came to visit me and I was so happy to see him in his splendor. Where is my Dudi? And where are all the tinsmiths' families, Dudik? And the sons of Dudik? And your sisters?

Two brands snatched from the burning , the two daughters of Azriel Halprin, the son–in–law of Hayim Yekelis, came to the Land. And the rest? The Barats family, the Morgenshterns, the Shapira sons, and many more whose surnames I did not know? One of these was R' Shemuel who used to come to relax in our garden on summer days and to chat with my father, and would test me in my knowledge of Hebrew by the way. Once he asked me for the source of a difficult word. I answered him that I found it in Bialik and he smiled and said,” No, my son, Bialik is not a source, the source is the Bible, the Mishne, the Talmud. Bialik is a poet, but Bialik also learned from the sources. But never mind”, he added, “the Land you are going to will atone for your sins, for the Land atones for all who live there. For so said Rabbi Eliezer: ‘Everyone who lives in the Land of Israel is without sin’. As it says in Isaiah 33: 24: ‘The people who dwell there will be forgiven their sins.’ And he also said;‘ Everyone who walks four cubits in the Land of Israel is certain of going to the Garden of Eden.’” R' Shemuel's words were so full of love and affirmation. Everything he said was full of an expression of a Jewish world view.

But there were also the complacent ones. One of them, when he came to say goodbye, asked me “What's the rush? Have you heard the ram's horn of the Messiah?” It was understood that this was not a time to indulge in polemics. For there was no one with whom to polemicize. My father knew that we had to hurry. And I also felt that there was little time left, because we lived among gentiles and even a decent gentile would ask me with assumed innocence “Where is the Jew going to take his cattle to graze? In the fields of Palestine? Do the Zhids have fields there? (At that time we had many cows and I would take the to graze in pastures belonging to other people)

My Christian friends in the Polish Gimnazie in Kovel used to “ encourage” me during the military exercises in target shooting (at that time the older students underwent military training with guns), and while I was aiming at the target they would whisper to me; “Hoziash (Yehoshua), fire straight, to Palestine”. It is interesting that I was never upset and after shooting I would answer; “I shall go soon, after the course in shooting.”

I left in 1923 with my sister Batya Meril to our brother Yehuda who was there since 1921. And now I look at the Ludmir “colony” which was photographed in Yaffo in 1924, I think, a small group who looked forward to the immigration of thousands ___l”

On the memorial day for the Ludmir martyrs I found many, perhaps hundreds [of landslayt] but the thousands who remained behind will not come. These hundreds testify to the destruction.

I saw these hundreds as orphans and remnants of the great and rich past, a past of serious and spiritually rich youth, youth that did not reject the traditions of its fathers and worked for a redemptive future.

Ludmir, which may be translated as “ we go to court” and who does not remember the stormy debates in the literary courts between Ya'akov Zipper and D. Bokser and Michael Bertner? Or the political arguments between “Al Hamishmar” and “Et Livnot.” And “Tseirei Tsiyon”? The stormy discussions of the members “Hadror” Byalopolski zal and Bendersky zal, Benkover , may he be spared for life, and others? It was not easy for parties to recruit new members in Ludmir, but whoever got followers knew that they would be faithful until the end.

Ludmir that had a past of a thousand years of Jewish culture and activities, is it completely gone?

I love you Ludmir for your great past and your societies and holy graves, the thousands of martyrs who were killed by the Nazi subhumans and their followers. We shall remember our pure brothers and sisters and we shall not forget the satanic deeds until the end of all generations.

[Column 251]

The way of life of the Jews of Ludmir was a combination of wonderful creativity of silent heroism, and of a strong desire to live, but also full of hardships, troubles, and constant tensions.

After the First World War, the Zionist movement re–awakened, [and we] began to acquire Hebrew books. Then we connected with the Keren ha–Kayemet and the selling of the shekel. Who does not remember the debates in the Histadrut Ha–Tsiyonit hall on Parne Street?

We sat and debated before every Zionist Congress. Jewish Ludmir was lively, active. Every year we had a bazaar. Ludmir excelled in its large donations to the Keren ha–Kemet Le–Yisrael. The Histadrut ha–Tsiyonit established a high standard Tarbut school as an alternative to the traditional heder. It was difficult to support a Tarbut school in Ludmir. We encountered great difficulties, but were able to persist only with great efforts.

We fought for this lofty ideal. I remember some Jews from Ludmir who gave much of their energy and time and made it the center of life in the city. They also realized the idea they had dreamt of and immigrated to the Land of Israel, and continue building the Land until today. Among them are Mr. Yelin. I remember well the immigration of the first of our pioneers; Yosef Girshveld, Kiki Birman, Hirshnhorn, Hayim Haznolad.

I remember how we escorted them to the train station. How great were the remarks and the content. [?]

Not much time passed and our Ludmir became a center for pioneers. I remember how difficult it was for the first immigrants before they left. At that time the Bund was founded in Ludmir. Political life was active and there were many debates.

The leadership of community life passed into our hands and members began to leave for agricultural preparation.

We honor the memory of our dear parents. We shall always carry inscribed in our hearts and memories those who merited to fight from bunkers and commit sabotage for the spilt Jewish blood.

We shall never forget those who gave their lives in the historic struggle.

[Columns 251-252]

A few memories of 40–45 years ago about the rivers and swamps of Ludmir.

No description of Ludmir can be complete without describing its rivers.

A giant swamp divided the settlement at the street of the Talmud Torah and bath house up to the train station. The area was not populated. A narrow little bridge made up by mostly broken and rickety boards –that was the way to the train station, except for the highway with its teeth– like stones. The swamp was deep, big, full of all kinds of wild undergrowth. On hot summer days it was covered with a mist and the croaking of the frogs could be heard halfway through Ludmir.

The Ludmir river was completely unknown outside Ludmir. It was usually called by the name of the neighborhood through which it flowed.

The river flowed through the entire town until it flowed into the Bug, but this was at two different ends of town. Every part of it had a different role and meaning. It was a beautiful and deep river. It was surrounded by fields and trees and a deep valley full of meadows. The whole area belonged to the Russian Orthodox Church.

Ludmir was very dependent upon this river. When the wells went bad (which often happened) the water carriers would draw water from the river until the wells were repaired, which often took a lot of time.

In the wintertime ice would be cut from the river, in order to prepare for the whole summer. The best families would do their laundry in the river. Hassidim would go there for Tashlikh (the ceremony of throwing one's sins into running water on the afternoon of Rosh Hashana), because the water was deep and everyone wanted to shake off their sins into the depths of the sea.

As mentioned, the area belonged to the church. In order to get to the river, one had to cross a fence. The gentile boys used to smear the fence with feces and throw stones from the wall around the church. The priest was a dear old man, Gershtinsky, a deputy of the Russian Duma and later a Polish senator. The boys did the mischief without his knowledge.

[Columns 253-254]

It is difficult to imagine Ludmir without remarking on the importance of the river. When one lived near the river, one smelled the odor of the hay. In the time of the hay harvest one could hear the singing of the Ukrainian peasants at night. Jewish children did not appreciate the feeling with which the songs were sung, beautiful songs–sung with feeling by the children of the Haidamacks and those who would become the fathers of the Hitler hooligans.

And finally, neither a river nor a swamp, there was the famous Ludmir Smotsh.[?]It was a little narrow river, most of the year a muddy swamp, and during the rainy season it became a bit of a river. The Smotsh was known to old and young, mostly to the young. Just like the Moscow–Volga, the Warsaw–Visla, so was the Ludmir–Smotsh. The children really lived it. First of all, it flowed through almost all of the Jewish neighborhoods. Children freely splashed in it, not afraid of gentile boys, and also not afraid of drowning in it. It was almost like a kindergarten. Mothers did not worry.

On Rosh Hashana [New Year] many Jews went to the little river for Tashlikh . It was really a little river of the masses, serving the weak , insignificant, and non–prestigious people. Even with its frog croaking evenings, it did not have anything to shame it in comparison with larger swamps. Children found a lot of little fish in it, which proved that it was a flowing stream.

The Smotsh served both as a river and a muddy swamp. It was a purely Jewish possession at a time when the river and the swamp were outside Jewish territory. When the ice thawed, our Smotsh also woke up and overflowed its banks, as if it was demanding more respect, showing what it could do.

Everyone really enjoyed our Smotsh. When we children saw in a newspaper that there was a street in Warsaw called Smotsha, we were overjoyed.

When you mention Ludmir, we remember the Ludmir rivers.

Once upon a time, many years ago, the Jews of Ludmir had to endure many difficulties and shame, when they had to conduct a funeral. The shame and sufferings were due to the fact that on the way to the cemetery there stood an old church.

[Columns 255-256]

When the Jews passed by carrying a litter with a corpse, the church bells would begin to ring, merrily. The church wardens would run out and laugh and ridicule the funeral procession. They also threw stones at the participants in the procession.

There was no bypass to the cemetery. Thus the Jews suffered greatly and could not find a solution.

They complained to the police commissioner and told him about the dreadful shaming of the dead and the cruel misdeeds which were done against the Jews.

The police commissioner, after receiving a large contribution from the Jewish populace, promised that there would be no repetition of these misdeeds.

But it was an empty promise, and the next time there was a funeral –once again, as always, the church bells would ring, and stones were thrown.

The Jews had no alternative and decided that they would not hold any funerals in the daytime, but only at night when the church wardens were asleep, and they would not see that there was a funeral procession.

They tried this method. At night in the dark, they crept past the church stealthily. But this was also unsuccessful and the same shameful display occurred as always.

At that time, there was a great pious and God fearing hassid, living in Ludmir. (This was R' Shlomo Karliner, “Mashiah ben Yosef” who is buried in the Ludmir cemetery).

They would gather at the home of this righteous man, say Tehillim (Psalms) with a quorum, fast, give charity to the poor – maybe the Almighty would see the great shame and send goodwill to the bell ringers to cease their evil ways, and the town would finally be relieved of the unmerciful situation and shame, which was enacted against the helpless and weak community.

A long time went by.

Suddenly, the great pious scholar, who was very old, passed away.

The Jews started to worry and everyone was depressed and fearful: --What should they do?

Everyone was deathly afraid, knowing what would be done at the funeral, and the disgrace that would befall this pious man.

The Jews could not rest.

Wringing their hands, their faces soaked with tears, and completely bereft, they went to the police commissioner.

With tears in their eyes they begged the police commissioner that he should order, at least this once, at the funeral of this pious man, that the church bells should not be rung and that there should not be any stones thrown.

The Jews explained how dreadful it would be to shame the dead, and especially such an important man.

The hard hearted gentile, the police commissioner, was at first cold and deaf to the pleas of the “dirty Zhids” but after they fell at his feet, kissed his footsteps, and finally offered him a large gift –he promised that the funeral would take place and nothing untoward would happen.

The Jews went to perform the funeral right away.

The entire the Jewish population of the town came to show honor to the great pious man, and the funeral procession started.

When they came to the road leading to the cemetery, and the carriers of the litter with the dead man approached the church, --all the church bells began to ring, even louder and more raucously than usual.

The entire congregation of Jews shivered with fear, and remained standing as if paralyzed.

They all lost the power of speech, and no one could utter a word.

And as the Jews stood there, not knowing what to do, they suddenly saw:

The dead man sat up on the litter with great haste, and turning to the church bells roared:

---“From today on you will become a hill of earth!”

From that day forward the large church began to sink and in three days there was no remnant to be seen.

To this day there is a grassy hillock which is a memorial to the sunken church.

[Column 254]

My father was one of the hundreds of Hassidim of the Rebbe of Rozhin in our town. Rabbi Levi Yitshak Zuker lived near the Rozhin synagogue. His house was open to everyone. Especially during the holidays, the wives of the Rozhin Hassidim would gather there and tell tales of the wonders performed by the Rebbe. I remember that when I was little I was always there and listened to the stories with awe and every word was holy.

I remember a winter night. The snow was falling and covering the ground and everything around was white. It was very cold. I was sent to the synagogue to call my father home urgently. When I came to the synagogue I heard the chanting of the Talmud. I slowly opened the door and entered. There was a holy aura there from the Hassidim studying together. Next to one of the long tables were Moshe Mendl Buksnboym, Simha Vaintrob, Hayim Hersh Faigenboym, Ya'akov Iger, my father, and others. When I recall this scene, I feel strong longings for the Hassidim, our good and holy brothers and sisters who were slaughtered and burned in a tragic and cruel manner.

There was a large Zionist movement in Ludmir. In almost every home peoples studied and knew Hebrew. When someone came from the Land of Israel, he was received with cordial joy. Among the families that hosted the guests were the Birman, Rotnshtein, and Horwitz families.

Once Dr. Korngrin came to Ludmir to collect donations. Everyone without exception gave money and jewelry. Women took their rings off their fingers, their necklaces off their necks, and donated with joy and with hope that one day they would be able to go to live in the Holy Land. Among the donors were pious Hassidim, who were fervent Zionists and Lovers of Zion.

[Columns 257-258]

I want to recall here a peculiar custom which was carried out in Ludmir in around 1927-1928, which reflects the special customs of our late parents.

As we remember, there were two large tall boxes at the entrance to the Large Synagogue. There we would put in pages of holy books (shames). Especially before holidays, for example on Passover eve, when we cleaned our houses, we might find such pages. We would bring them to the “Geniza”storage place]. We collected such pages in the boxes for hundreds of year, so it was said.

On a nice summer day in Ludmir, in the afternoon, hundreds of Jews, dressed in holiday clothes, were summoned by the community council and the rabbinate, as if to celebrate a special holiday. At the gate of the synagogue the Ludmir band played merry marches and melodies. People streamed to the site from all over the town.

At the agreed upon time, young fellows packed the shames into sacks, until the boxes were empty. The sacks were placed on wagons, which stood opposite Parne Street. A merry parade began which was unique, happening only once in the course of generations. This was the order of the parade: At the head marched the band, after them the wagons, on the last wagon there sat a young man holding two tablets of the commandments which had been cut out [of stone?] in a large form While the parade was moving through the streets, men and women ran out of their houses bring pages of shames and putting them into the open sack. After them came the rabbis of Ludmir and environs, who came for this special occasion. Then followed the important men of the town and after them a large crowd of Jews of every sector group, who marched in a celebratory mode in the direction of the cemetery, in order to fulfill the commandment of [properly storing] the geniza of holy books.

A special place was reserved at the cemetery, where a four cornered grave had been dug, lined with concrete, into which the shames were buried. Masses of escorts stood around the grave. The rabbis orated fiery talks, especially the Bialistoker Rabbi, Rabbi Grosman. They emphasized the importance of Torah study and they prayed the letters of these pages, upon which our parents had wept, would revive us and call us to continue in our parents' footsteps. This ceremony left a tremendous impression on everyone.

[Columns 257-258]

Concerned that some peoples' names are not mentioned in gatherings and memorials because of their insignificant position in society, we wish to dedicate this article to them. This survey deals with a relatively short period of years but one of historic importance: Ludmir before the end of the Tsarist regime, the Austrian occupation and the beginning of the Polish regime.

Before World War One, Ludmir was a quiet town, surrounded by forests and rivers. The large peasant population lived in the surrounding areas. Most of the residents of the town were Jews, except for the officials of the Christian institutions at the edge of town. There was always a large military unit stationed there, thus the non–Jewish proportion of population was evident. Commerce and handicrafts were in Jewish hands. There was no industry. There were a few flour mills and the rest were small workshops that employed a few apprentices and they depended upon the gentiles for their income. Whenever there was a drought or some natural disaster our town's situation was immediately affected.

[Columns 259-260]

Linat hatsedek [Hostel for indigent wayfarers] and Moshav Zekenim [Home for the Aged] [sign held by front row in photo] The new building was established through the support of the great philanthropist Mr. Chaim Neuer of Cincinnati

As far as I remember, there were no great scholars or famous institutions of Torah learning. Whoever wanted his sons to study Torah on a high level sent them to other places. There were also no famous philanthropists in Ludmir. But Ludmir was distinguished by its modesty and voluntary deeds of all. There were many institutions which offered aid, for example “Linat hatsedek”, “Hesed shel emet” [Free burial Society], “Hakhnasat kalla” [Assistance for poor brides] a hospital, “Matan be–seter” [Anonymous donations] and all kinds of institutions for assistance at holiday time such as “Kemah Pesah” [Food for Passover] or “Demei Purim” [Purim Funds] etc.

There were no national cultural or political institutions at that time. It seems to me that the only Jewish institutions on a national level were the rebbes and their hassidim. There were many synagogues and many hassidim that followed particular rebbes and they had national connections, and mutual visits. The hassidim were inspired by their rebbes. Of course they sent donations to the rebbes' main residences, and they gave generous donations. These were done on a completely voluntary basis even though the donors were poor, with many children. Every home provided a “day” for a yeshiva boy to eat, and often had guests for the Sabbath.

This was how the middle classes and lower classes behaved. They were without fame or pretensions. Most of this populations were hassidim, each group with its own shtibl (small synagogue). There is where the ordinary folk found their cultural base and their connections with the Creator. And that is how they raised their children.

The “Panders” of Ludmir were different. They were the porters and waggoneers and others of low degree, who treated all the others we have mentioned with respect. They took for granted the general voluntarism we have mentioned. The Panders guarded the honor of all Jews at every opportunity. They did not follow a rebbe, that was higher than their reach, but they esteemed every rebbe, while the hassidim of one rebbe would disparage other rebbes. They had their own synagogues, of butchers, tailors, porters, etc.

At the beginning of the Polish regime the Rebbe of Belz was supposed to come. There were many preparations, even the officials treated him with respect. One of the owners of a carriage (the only one with rubber tires) and a strong man of course, insisted that the Rebbe would be transported in his carriage alone.

[Columns 261-262]

Obviously the carriage was used for other purposes in the course of the year, but that was his wish and he spent much time cleaning and polishing his carriage. When the Rebbe came he unhitched his horse and harnessed himself to the carriage. This was how he displayed his respect for the Rebbe.

When the First World War broke out, we travelled to Kovel by wagon. I was a child. The wagon was full of passengers. They all fell asleep one by one and the wagoner sat and hummed melodies of the High Holidays service (where else could he show his ability?) Then he whipped one of his horses and announced, “Well, you are the Wicked Haman I know you well from the year round, you were wicked and you will continue being wicked” and he whipped him. “But what will we do with you, Mordekhay the Just?” He spoke this way to the other horse and as a child I was shocked. What is this? A horse named Mordekhay? But after many years I understood that his horses were his partners and were no less dear to him than his family. That is how the Pander understood good and evil.

They did not have a professional organization, but no one every intruded on the other's turf as storekeepers did. It seems that their morals were higher than those of storekeepers, merchants, and “the elite.” There were no bankrupts and slip ups and losing the savings of cleaning women among them as there were in the “higher circles.”

Who does not remember the period when the refugees from Galicia came to our town at the time of the Russian occupation? There were hundreds of men women and children. Who took care of them without out any preparations? The ordinary folk! Without out any help from outside (a little later, it seems to me, there was some support from the writer An–ski).

At the time of the Austrian occupation it was a bit easier for us Jews, but then began a period of unbearable suffering, poverty increased, There was no inter– city transportation. One needed special influence, and the rich people knew how to exploit this and how to get all kinds of concessions and all kinds of goods. But instead of making it easier for the needy the monopoly created greater suffering.

Then a group of young people who wanted to ease the situation, opened a public kitchen. They cooked hot meals and distributed them to the many needy, collected donations, and organized performances (By the way, this was one of the beginnings of cultural activities in the days of occupation). This institution even received recognition by the military ruler and was even supported by it.

Various youth organizations arose, most of them Zionist for collection of funds. Where did their members originate? From the masses.

I remember well the hundreds of young Christians who came in the fall to be recruited into the army in the days of the Tsar. There was no law that reined in their wild behavior. They used to wander around drunk, and attack and rob and beat with no interference by the government. The storekeepers knew only one method: to lock up their stores and to run away home, and whoever was attacked, suffered.

And who went out to fight them?

The wagoners, the porters, the butchers, and all the other lower classes knew how to defend the general public.

The oldest tombstone in the Ludmir cemetery The inscription reads “Here is buried an honest and loyal man, R' [illegible] the son of Moshe Yehuda [illegible] 261 (date?) [illegible] his deeds were glorious”

“Home for the Aged” in Ludmir [undated]

With the beginning of the Polish regime, all the Jews were dependent on the Polish officials. They were all anti–Semites, and often engaged in anti–Semitic instigation. Even though there were organizations and committees in our town, when the Poles attacked, the streets emptied of Jews. But even then the Panders went out to fight against the bandits and defended our honor.

I have found it necessary to do everything in my power to prevent a miscarriage of historical truth. I have not heard at any memorial meeting the mention by name of the masses, the lower classes. I have not heard mention of their defense of the honor of Israel from its enemies. May their names and memories not be forgotten. That is what I intended in this article.

When I think about the town of Ludmir and its past, I remember some of the people and enterprises that take me back to the period of my youth, when we worked for Zion in Ludmir, and dreamt and longed to go to the Land of Israel where we would lead new improved lives .

Some events and personalities who were modest in their doing of good deeds, rise before my eyes and it is fitting to write about them:

1. In Ludmir there were many synagogues that were filled with worshipers during the week and even more so on Sabbath and holidays, but the residents of Pilsudsky Street (formerly Kovelski Street) had to walk for great distances until they reached their synagogue. On hot days and especially on snowy days, this long walk was troublesome. One of the residents of the street named Ze'ev (Vevi) Gabbay, donated a piece of his property for the building of a Study Hall. This was beneficial for the residents of the street and nearby streets. He received the reward of his good deed in this world, for after the synagogue was established, it was named called “The Study Hall of R' Ze'ev Gabbay”. There were various groups in the Study Hall who studied Mishneh, Gemara, and so on. There were some dedicated students who studied every day, and even at night, and from time to time they celebrated the completion of a volume. In time there was instituted a Free Loan Society in the synagogue that started off modestly but became more and more important, both in income (the worshipers donated every week), and also in the extent of the loans. Many of the borrowers were merchants at the fairs and they would borrow money to buy merchandise before the fairs and pay back the loans after the fairs, and thus earned a livelihood. The writer of these lines kept the books and saw how important the loans were for those who needed them.
2. The zeal of communal workers leads to more initiatives

3. We should also mention R' Berele the teacher, in whose heder (one room school) I also studied. Before I left for Erets Yisrael I came to the synagogue to say goodbye to the Jews of my street. All of them, of course shook my hand and blessed my journey, but for some reason R' Berele was shy of saying goodbye in front of everyone. He had heard rumors that young men in Erets Yisrael were not punctilious about observing the commandments and he feared that I, whom he knew as a son of a religious family, would follow their ways, even though he knew that my grandfather, R' Yehoshua, zal agreed to my going, but it was hard for him to shake my hand and give me his blessing.<.li>

At that moment I understood that he believed in my Jewishness, that not only would I not remove the yoke of Torah but even more, he saw me as fit to pray for him at the Western Wall…

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