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One rainy Sunday afternoon, a group of Horodlo natives sat with me in the home of Ya'akov and Rivke Mededrut, and reminisced about the small Polish town of Horodlo, in the province of Lublin; specifically, about a number of characteristic persons, and events that occurred there.

The rain outside was pouring, but here, indoors, the portrait of the bygone town spread light and warmth all around, through the memories of the surviving sons and daughters, who carried these memories deep in their hearts, longingly and sorrowfully.

Each person recalled a different character and a different episode. These brief depictions and short characterizations combined to create a beautiful image of bygone Horodlo: a town rich in sacred scholarship and good deeds. I was overcome with pride at having been born in such a place.

After long consideration, I concluded that the emergence of great geniuses and sources of light for the Jewish world in such small towns was not a coincidence. This is why we are still inspired by those small towns in Poland, Lithuania, Hungary, Russia, etc., which dipped into and imbibed the finest qualities of our nation.

The conversation evoked a rich gallery of Horodlo Jews, each of whom could be the central character of a book about the Jews of Poland.

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Here, we will present only a few short strokes on each character, enabling the reader to create a portrait of the local Jewish personalities.

Chaim Hirsh fulfilled an official function. He was the unofficial magistrate of the town and its Jewish community. When the town's authorities (the council and the police) or the community's leaders wanted to announce a topic, regulation, or ordinance, they would do so through Chaim Hirsh. He could also revoke and cancel harsh decrees.

He was charitable and kind, one of the first to enter the House of Study in the morning, where he spent hours praying and chanting Psalms. When a visitor or an emissary from a yeshiva came to town, he would eat at Chaim Hirsh's home. Chaim Hirsh was remarkably healthy, and took long strides with the powerful, focused gait of a strong person. Before each meal, he would drink, and enjoy, a strong, lip-burning brandy. He also treated each guest at a meal to the same brandy drink. The guest would have a coughing fit, to the host's astonishment.

He was busy almost daily doing acts of charity and kindness, visiting Jewish homes with a sack on his shoulders, collecting bread and money for yeshivas, who considered him a faithful representative. The receipts and acknowledgments from the yeshivas were collected in a special bag, which, according to his will, would be placed at his head after his death.^[1]

When an emissary or a roving preacher arrived and gave a sermon

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in the House of Study, Chaim Hirsh would chant the Kaddish prayer in his resounding voice. The boys' choir would then respond “Blessed is He, blessed is His name” and conclude with “Amen” after the cantor's blessings.

His good health and stamina continued into his old age. He was always vigilant over Horodlo, its House of Study, and matters of charity and kindness.

Isser Peretz Mederdrut

Ya'akov Boymeyl was honest, pious, and renowned for his many good deeds. He was a simple, decent man, and made his living by working at rope-making. This righteous, modest man set up a hostel in his own home for travelers and local indigents, which offered a bed for the night, and shelter during winter nights and rainy days. His piety and sincerity led him to observe the mitzvoth related to hospitality throughout his life.

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Gitl Mederdrut (Isser's wife)

She was pious and charitable, always seeking to help others. This was her way of fulfilling the mitzvah of charity: she would go to all the Jewish homes and collect candles for lighting in synagogues, and money for secret charity. The Jewish homes always welcomed her. Everyone appreciated her good deeds; even the poorest would give her a donation.

Rivke Mederdrut recounted the kindness of the Horodlo Jews: when she visited Jewish homes seeking bread and challah for the town's indigents, she naturally avoided the homes of the poorest. However, they would come to her home carrying a challah, and complaining, “Rivke, why did you skip my home? I too want to give charity.” They would hand over their contribution.

Yitzchok Hirsh Fayl, with wife Elka and granddaughter Miriam

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Isn't such sincerity and modesty moving and inspiring? Such decency and kindness touch one's heart and soul and arouse the most profound feelings and sensations!

Learned and scholarly, an expert on the Talmud and later commentaries – such was Yosef Shmuel the melamed. He usually taught older boys who knew the Talmud well enough to take on in-depth study. Those who started studying with Yosef Shmuel were considered able of studying an entire page of Talmud without assistance, and came to him for more sophisticated, shrewd, and subtle study.

He was certified to have the final word on matters of rabbinical law. If the town rabbi was absent, people would turn to him for permission or prohibition. He himself had created many manuscripts containing new interpretations of rabbinical texts, written with a goose feather pen.

In his old age, a group of his students undertook his support and sustenance.

He devoted his entire life to study and pious worship, and produced many students and scholars.

Rabbi Tshetner was a great scholar and very pious, in behavior as well as in personality, and was careful to heed every mitzvah, whether great or small. He was very meticulous, and even forbade himself things that were permitted. He was just as observant of mitzvot concerning his fellow men as those concerning God. Most of his time was spent studying Torah, working, and giving charity.^[2] Most of the time, day or night, he could be found studying in the Hasidic small synagogue. Passers-by in the late hours of a winter night

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could see him there, hunched over a volume of the Talmud. More than once, he would study through the night, and put on his tallis and tefillin for the morning prayers. He was truly a holy man.

His honesty, decency, and modesty were exemplary, and he was justifiably considered a Hasid and a man of great devotion to worship, outstanding in both learning and piety. His qualities earned him a place among the Hasidism. All Jews treated him with respect and awe.

Yoel-Itshe was God-fearing, a cantor with a pleasant voice, as well as an expert mohel. He carried out this sacred duty mostly free of charge. Jews from the surrounding villages invited him to circumcise their sons, a mitzvah that he always performed joyfully and in a timely manner.

He prayed with warmth and ecstasy. When he led the prayers during the High Holy Days, the hearts of the congregation would quiver with emotion.

Shmuel Herbst was known as a prayer leader who roused and impressed the congregation; he was also a well-known Radzin Hasid. Listening to him pray during the High Holidays was especially wonderful. I particular remember him chanting the Akdamut on Shavuot, to a beautiful melody.^[3]

When the town rabbi, the great scholar Rabbi Moyshe-Leyb HaLevi Berman (may his righteous memory be for a blessing) would render the sugar factory (in Stryszów village) kosher for Pesach (Passover), he would appoint Shmuel Herbst, Yosef Bergman, and Yehuda Biterman as supervisors. Under their supervision, the rabbi was certain that the right people made sure the factory was kosher.

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Bashe (Yankel's wife) and Chaye-Toybe

Two righteous women of Horodlo worth mentioning considered themselves knowledgeable in medicine. Many townspeople respected their knowledge and applied their medical advice. They were especially well-versed in childhood diseases and respiratory ailments, which they treated with traditional medicine. People trusted their medical advice.

The Jewish youth of Horodlo were remarkably serious, knowledgeable, and educated. They achieved this by their efforts and diligent self-education, and were famous in the nearby towns as well. These young people were activists, who were renowned for their devotion. At the same time, they were unusually serious and scrupulous in all areas: business, society, public activities, and personal relationships. Most of their public work was concentrated on personal relationships. Most Horodlo youth were

From right: Chana Shturm, Tzvi Zuberman, Yekutiel Zavidovich, Feyge Gruber, Tzvi Zaltzman, Fishl Gertl, Tova Goldberg, Moyshe Gruber, Rokhl Blum

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From right: Rokhl Datelgeld, Yosef Zavidovich, Tcharna Halperin, Eliezer Lerner, Fradl Zavidovich, Yosef Rozenblum, Chife Fayl, Feyge Gruber

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From right: Charna Halperin, Rokhl Datelgeld, Chife Fayl, Chaya Zissberg

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idealists, who were prone to moral thinking and ethical ideals. Personal and social honor were higher-ranking than materialistic considerations. Feelings of mutual brotherhood and mutual aid were hallmarks of the young people of Horodlo.

Their thirst for religious and general knowledge was outstanding. The breadth of their education, despite a shortage of financial resources, is praiseworthy. The town could truly be proud of its young people.

When I began to set down these short notes delineating some characters of Horodlo, I thought that I was stringing together the most beautiful pearls of our past; but it seems to me now that the town of Horodlo itself was a shining gem, a worthy section of the golden crown that is the history of the Jewish community of Poland.

Translator's Footnotes

1. This is linked with the belief that a person's good deeds during their lifetime ensure a good afterlife. Return
2. These three forms of religious observance are quoted from the Sayings of the Fathers, 1:2: “The world stands on three things: On Torah, on works, and on kindness to others.” Return
3. The Akdamut prayer is a liturgical poem, written in Aramaic. It consists of praise for God, his Torah, and his people, and is usually recited by Ashkenazi Jews on the first day of Shavuot. Return

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Those who are curious about the nature of Shabbes, its importance, and its essence, should page through the Siddur (Prayer Book) and read the prayers it includes; they contain the soul of the people and the soul of Shabbes. The sublime poetry that shines forth from the black glow of its lettering contains the spirit of the people, the beating of one's own heart, and the reader will feel the depth of his own soul.

They will discover that Shabbes provides rest for the body, whereas the spirit, the soul, and the heart “work” on Shabbes, arousing aspirations, longings, love, memories, and blessings, in the sublime state of joy, rest, and sanctity…

A Jew welcomes Shabbes with love and poetry, poetry that wells up out of love, and a love that flows from poetry.^[2]

The Friday afternoon prayers therefore begin with the biblical “Song of Songs,” a song of love between the Jewish people and the Holy One (blessed be he). The love in each Jewish heart strengthens until the prayer continues with Yedid Nefesh. Now it flares up to “My Soul Pines for Your Love,” and the speaker longs to witness the power of God's strength

Following this “hallway” that introduces God's love, the Jew enters the “parlor” of worship: “Come, let us sing joyously to the Lord”. The emotional outpouring of the sweet singer of Israel in a few chapters of Psalms are conveyed in a prayer that expresses the joy

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of a bridegroom welcoming his bride. He calls out ecstatically, “Come, bride!” The Shabbes bride is as beautiful as a queen (“Queen Shabbes”).

At this sublime moment, he begins to call out, “A song of praise for Shabbes. It is good to thank God.” Yes, he overflows with gratitude for these moments of elation. Now he recalls the fourth of the Ten Commandments: “Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy” and senses the sanctity of the day (“You sanctified the seventh day”), which was blessed from the very beginnings of the world (“God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because He rested from all the labor of Creation”). The head of the family therefore rejoices, as stated in the Shabbes prayer “He who keeps the Sabbath and call it a delight will rejoice in Your kingdom.” He prays with profound sincerity, “Our father and the God of our fathers, be pleased with our rest ,” then continues with a description of God's greatness (“Protector of our fathers by His word… the God like no other, who grants His people rest on His holy day”). Therefore, “we will serve Him with great fear and trepidation, and thank His holy name.”

The head of the family goes home joyfully, after his passionate prayer in the synagogue. Here, he meets important and honored guests – God's messengers – whom he greets with a heartfelt Sholem Aleichem. He knows that God loves him as much as he loves God, and has therefore sent him messengers to bless him (“Bless me with peace, you messengers of peace”) and protect him (“He will order His angels to protect you wherever you go”). After parting from his guests, he prepares for the festive Shabbes meal.

The house is illuminated and neat, and the wonderful fragrance of food fills the air. He remembers

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his wife's hard work, and utters the song of praise beginning, “A woman of valor, who can find?”

He blesses the wine, and senses God's generosity: “You have chosen us and blessed us of all nations, and given us Your sanctified Shabbes day with love and goodwill.” Therefore, he blesses God, “Blessed are You, God, who blesses the Shabbes.”

He fulfils the Shabbes commandment to have a festive meal, and joyfully sings “He who keeps Shabbes properly is richly rewarded.” Happy and satisfied, he ends the Shabbes evening ceremony with the blessing after food, and expresses the wish that the afterlife will be an eternal Shabbes.

During his prayers, he cannot forget Zion, and implores, “When, sweet God, will You reign in Zion?” He hopes that this will surely happen “soon, in our time, Your presence will rest forever (in Zion).”

As he remembers Zion, his national consciousness is roused, and he is proud that “You did not grant the Shabbes to the other nations of the world, but to the nation of Israel, your people.” At that moment, the supplicant's soul is bound up with the nation as a whole. He mentions the “Jewish communities that gave their lives for the sanctity of the Holy Name” and begs God to bless the Jewish communities and “all those who work faithfully for the community.” He longingly recalls the radiant past of the nation: “You planned the Shabbes and accepted its sacrifices,” and has a single desire: “Bring us to our land joyfully and establish us within its boundaries,”

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so that “we can serve you faithfully.”

He ends the Musaf prayer with the “Song of Honor,” which details the greatness of God and His actions. Addressing God, he prays for the following prayer to be granted: “Let my discourse be pleasant to You, for all my being longs for You.”

He makes the blessing during the midday Shabbes meal, praising God with the piyyut “Blessed is almighty God who granted rest.” In the afternoon, after a day of spiritual joy and before the end of Shabbes, he recites a summary of his impressions of Shabbes: “Rest of love and generosity, true and faithful love, rest of peace and quiet, the complete rest You desire.”

The sun is setting, darkness falls, and Shabbes fades away…

Weekday cares resurface. The burden of Exile lies heavy once more. His soul prays at the close of Shabbes for the coming of Elijah: “Elijah the prophet…may he come to us soon, with Messiah, son of David…”

Translator's Footnotes

1. I have chosen to transliterate the Yiddish Shabbes (rather than the Hebrew ‘Shabbat’) in this section. Return
2. In the next few pages, the writer provides a detailed moment-by-moment description of the Shabbat liturgy and domestic customs, from Friday evening to Shabbat evening. The text is replete with quotes from the Bible, prayers and religious poems (piyyutim), and with references, which would have been familiar to the readers at the time of publication.
   [I have added some background information below, which follows the order in which the terms appear in the text. The Song of Songs is an erotic poem, construed in Jewish tradition as an allegory of the relationship between God and Israel. Yedid Nefesh is a 16^th-century collection of psalms usually sung to welcome Shabbat, which includes the phrase “My soul pines for Your love.” “Come, let us sing joyously to God” is the beginning of Psalm 95. The “sweet singer of Israel” is a traditional term for the biblical King David, whom tradition presents as the composer of the Book of Psalms. Shabbes is often depicted as a queen. The “Song of Praise for the Sabbath” is Psalms 92. The phrases “You sanctified the seventh day” to “thank His holy name”… are from the Friday evening blessings. “God's messengers” refers to the popular poem – “Shalom Aleykhem, mal'akhey ha-shalom” -- sung in many homes to welcome the Sabbath through greeting the heavenly messengers accompanying it. “He will order His angels” is from Psalm 91:11. The “woman of valor” poem is in Proverbs 31. “He who keeps the Shabbes” is a well-known liturgical poem of the piyyut genre. The following phrases are taken from the liturgy. Zion is the traditional Jewish homeland. The Yiddish phrase I have translated as “sweet God” is gotenyu, a diminutive form of Got, God, which connotes endearment, and is often used as a form of address to God in personal prayer. “When will You reign in Zion” is from a liturgical poem. You did not grant it to the nations of the world” is from the Musaf prayer. “The Jewish communities that gave their lives” is from the Shabbes morning service. The memorial prayer “Father of Mercy,” a piyyut from the 11^th or 12^th century, said every Shabbes. The phrases “You planned the Shabbes” and “Bring us to our land joyfully” are from the Shabbes Musaf (additional morning service). The “Song of Honor,” and the piyyut “Thanks to God who granted rest” date from the 12^th century. “You did not grant it to the nations of the world” is from the Musaf prayer. The text of the popular song “Elijah the prophet” is taken from the prayer book.] Return

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When the young people of Horodlo decided to arrange a theatrical production for the town's residents, they faced a task that was not easy. Their only resource was the wish of those individuals who wanted to supply the cultural nourishment that the town clearly lacked.

As our sages said, “Nothing can block the will.”^[2] They resolved to work towards preparing such a performance. They invited a director from out of town; the artists were the young people themselves. Everything, of course, was done in great secrecy, so that their parents wouldn't discover the project.

Rehearsals began in the abandoned house of the Russian priest. Those who knew what was taking place in that house respected the attempt. When they passed by the house, they knew that a room in that house was the home of culture, a secret component of life that they had not yet experienced.

The evening of the performance drew near. The secret was discovered on Friday evening, one day before the actual performance. All the performers were ostracized. Those in charge of the performance told the participants to prepare for battle, and housed them in the building where the event was slated to take place. The uproar was great: the young people's parents knocked on the house doors, yelling, “Give us back our children! Stop the apostasy!” There was a feeling that

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war was imminent between the progressives and the conservatives, who wanted to keep their heritage and traditions intact. Those who saw themselves as champions of culture knew that this day and this performance would be a litmus test for both sides. Cancellation of the performance would mean the complete defeat of all our hopes of escaping from the boundaries our parents had set. These young people, who were completely inexperienced in cultural battles, decided to stand their ground and fight for freedom of ideas, and above all – for culture. The rabbi (may his memory be for a blessing) called, like the biblical Moses at the time, “Whoever is for God, come to me!”^[3] All the pious Jews assembled immediately, among them the butchers and their “regiment commander” Eliyahu, Yidl's son. Opposite them stood the young people, with the artisans and their “regiment commander” Yechiel Sherer. The two “captains” knew how to give twice as good as they got, if need be.

The atmosphere on Shabbat was very tense. Representatives of both factions watched the entrance to the building where the show was scheduled to take place. Each camp struggled to gauge the mood of its opposer. This continued until after the evening prayer and the Havdalah service that mark the end of Shabbat.^[4] After all, we were the children of the generation that was opposing us, and the tradition of Shabbat sanctity was in our blood.

At the end of Shabbat, both groups of men began, as though by order, to march toward the building. They were followed by two groups of women, whose sole purpose was to disrupt and halt the marchers before a hand could be raised and blood spilled. When the two camps met opposite each other, a violent war of words began. However, the watchful women were able to disperse the “gunpowder.” This was done

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suddenly, with no advance warning, and the men on both sides halted their attempts and seemed ashamed of themselves. Suddenly, it was still. Everyone stopped in their tracks and raised their hands, as if petrified.

The ticket-holders were escorted into the hall by the organizers, the doors were locked, and the performance finally began. Our “captain,” Yechiel Sherer, was paid his wage. He and Gittl Fayl attached ribbons to the clothes of those in the audience, signifying that they had donated to Keren Kayemet.^[5] The good people who had remained outside, not comprehending what was happening, slowly began to go home. After all, people really cared about each other and had their good in mind.

One man remained standing outside, facing east, silently praying to God with great devotion. He was probably begging God to have mercy on the boys and girls who had deviated from the true path. This was the rabbi (may his sacred memory be for a blessing), who had believed that he and his followers could disrupt the performance. Who knows how much longer he would have stood praying, if not for the Gentile Baski – wounded in the Polish war – which approached the rabbi, saying, “Mr. Rabbi, there's no one here, everyone has dispersed. You were able to drive them all away. Why do you stay here in the cold?” The rabbi responded, “Thank you, thank you, Mr. Baski. I don't know what happened. Yes, they've all gone home. They're good children after all, just a bit naughty…”

Thus ended the very successful performance. However, the full truth became known the next morning. Here and there, pointless arguments broke out. But the deed had been done. For the first time, we caught a glimpse of the world of culture, and were captivated.

Translator's Footnotes

1. Another, more dramatic telling of this event can be found on pages 109-111. Return
2. The source of this popular saying is unknown. Return
3. Exodus 32:26. Return
4. Havdalah is a Jewish religious ceremony that marks the symbolic end of Shabbat and ushers in the new week. Return
5. Keren Kayemet LeYisrael, the Hebrew name for the Jewish National Fund. Return

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There was once a Jewish life full of substance and beauty! I say this not only out of a romantic longing for the past, as often happens with people who start to look closely at bygone days, but in light of life today. An objective comparison with the springtime of our life can elevate the past immensely. Our parents, their everyday lives, their Shabbat and holiday practices, their humbleness and charitable deeds, also become idealized. Then you are captivated by your memories of them and begin to understand the beauty of their way of life, their refinement, and their Jewishness.

Yes, my friends, it is more than a romanticization of bygone days. It is only a sober evaluation of a vanished period, in the perspective of time, with the understanding gained by years of experience and through the lens of current reality.

My father, Shmuel Herbst (may his memory be for a blessing) was a fine person, an enthusiastic member of Radzin Hasidism, an ecstatic prayer leader, whose prayer melodies were renowned. My mother, Toybe (may her memory be for a blessing), was a righteous woman, who was well known in the town as a very smart person. She was a truly capable and industrious wife, who saw to all our household needs.^[1] She was modest, extremely pious, and did not miss a single daily prayer.

As mentioned above, my father was a Radzin Hasid, and one of the rebbe's most eminent followers. Following custom, he would travel to Warsaw to celebrate the High Holidays with the rebbe.

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One year, my father was ailing, the result of an accident that he had suffered. As if that wasn't enough, his income was low as well.

As usual, he traveled to Warsaw to see the rebbe, Rabbi Mordkhe Yosef Eliezer (may his righteous memory be for a blessing). Apparently, the rebbe knew about the condition of his health and poor economic situation. However, my father did not want to disclose this. When the rebbe asked, “Are you making a living?” my father replied, “Living comfortably.”^[2] He was always careful to paper everything over and present a happy face.

The rebbe then told him to go to Otwock for a rest cure and not to pray, for the sake of his health. However, he could not forgo praying, as he would pour his heart and soul into the practice, and was renowned for this.^[3]

When my father stopped travelling to the rebbe because of his deteriorating health, the rebbe would ask his other Horodlo followers how Shmuel of Horodlo was doing, with his “living comfortably,” and the phrase became popular in Hasidic circles.

My father would always chant the Akdamut prayer in a special melody, rather than in the traditional recitation style.^[4] The memory of his melody still evokes sweet memories.

When he was sick, and not allowed to chant, his hasidic enthusiasm induced him to pray and chant. He very much wanted to do so, but Shmuel Biderman told him, “Uncle, didn't the rebbe tell you not to pray and chant?” Father was such a fervent hasid that he ignored Shmuel. So Shmuel pressured him more strongly and did not let him pray,

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out of concern for his health. Father was annoyed, but was later appeased by Shmuel, during the Kiddush.^[5]

In the afternoon of Simchat Torah, after the service, the Hasids would visit each other's home, eat and drink, and celebrate.

One year, Father was tired, and lay down for a nap. The Hasids came in and hauled him out in his underwear to Leybl Zavidovich's home. The party lasted until the evening, which would end with a chant of Chasal Siddur Pesach, linking two mitzvahs: the High Holidays with Pesach^[6], as was customary in our synagogue.

Our synagogue had a “Throne of Elijah.”^[7] The custom was that every male Jewish newborn was circumcised in the synagogue, and the sandek would sit on the “throne.” During World War I, the custom was canceled out of fear.

When my son Mordkhe was born (the Yiddish translator of this [original printed edition] book), Moyshe Tversky, the Rebbe of Turiisk (may his righteous memory be for a blessing), was visiting Horodlo from Lublin. Rabbi Moyshe-Leyb Ha-Levy Berman (may his righteous memory be for a blessing) who could serve as mohel and sandek, handed the role of sandek over to Rebbe Tversky.^[8]

When I went to the rebbe, to invite him to the circumcision and give him the honor of being the sandek, he ordered me to refurbish the synagogue's “Throne of Elijah,” as was customary. I followed his order. The traditional town custom was revived on the first day of the Hebrew calendar month of Tammuz.

Woe is me! I am writing down reminiscences of the lovely bygone days that were so cruelly obliterated, and my Mordkhe is translating a Horodlo memorial book…

Translator's Footnotes

1. This is a reference to Proverbs 31, which enumerates the qualities of a capable wife, and is chanted by the husband before the Friday night meal. Return
2. The response is an adaptation of a quote from Psalms 119:45. Return
3. Otwock was famous as a health resort. Return
4. The Akdamut is an important liturgical poem (piyyut) of the 11^th century, recited on the Jewish holiday of Shavuot by Ashkenazi Jews. Return
5. Kiddush literally, “sanctification”, is a blessing recited over wine or grape juice to sanctify the Shabbat and Jewish holidays. Return
6. Said at the end of the Seder, the prayer translates as “The Pesach (Passover) service is finished, as it was meant to be performed, in accordance with all its rules and laws.” Return
7. Synagogues designate a special chair for Elijah the Prophet at every circumcision. Some have the custom that the sandek, the one holding the child on his lap during the circumcision, sits on this chair. Return
8. A mohel is a person who performs the brit milah, the ritual circumcision. The sandek (Hebrew: “companion of child”) is a person honored either by holding the baby boy on the knees or thighs while the mohel performs the brit milah, or by handing the baby to the mohel. Return

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I would like to offer reminiscences of my early childhood, and of my grandfather Yoel-Itshe Zuberman, his sons, daughters, daughters-in-law, sons-in-law, and grandchildren.

I was four years old. My grandfather Yoel-Itshe and grandmother Chane-Reyzl lived in a large, comfortable house in Łuszków. They had granaries. Grandfather owned many fields but did not work in them. He was busy in the nearby forests, and would come home only for Shabbat.

When Grandfather came home, we, all the grandchildren, gathered around him joyfully. He would pinch our cheeks and joke with us. On Shabbat, he studied Torah all day. He was a scholar, as well as a kind person; Grandmother was also a loving mother to everyone. They had ten children, five sons and five daughters. The sound of studies was constantly heard in that home. They hired the best melameds [Hebrew teachers for children] as well as teachers of secular subjects. All the children and the aunts were good students. The home was steeped in scholarship. Grandfather and the boys were Radzin Hasids, except for Uncle Yoske, who was a Turiisk Hasid.

Aunt Chaya was the oldest of the children. She and her family first lived in Wieslowicz, and later in Chelm. She had five children, one of whom is alive, in North America. The rest were killed by the murderers.

Yoske was the second: Uncle Yosef Zuberman. His wife, Rivtshe, was the daughter of Dovid Note, Moyshe's son. They had seven children, of which only

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one, Moyshe, is alive and lives in Israel. One granddaughter, Shoshana, survived and lives in Israel.

Uncle Yoske would sit in the shop and study by candlelight. He seemed to resent it when clients came in and disturbed his studies.

All the children were diligent students of religious topics, and were also familiar with world literature.

Uncle Yankl and his wife Chaya-Sore lived in Horodlo, with their nine children. Uncle Yankl, too, devoted his free time to studying sacred books, but he was actually short of spare time. They had a wide range of business, and were constantly busy, taking care of family members who were needy as well as of strangers. They raised good children, all of whom were scholars. Almost all were murdered in Ludmir; the only survivors were two sons and one daughter.

Next in age was Aunt Maradl. She was married to Yoel; they had five sons, daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren. All were murdered in Ludmir by the Nazi butchers.

My parents lived in Horodlo. My memorable father Hershke-Tzvi (may he rest in peace) devoted much of his time to studying Torah. I can still hear his beautiful chant. He was a dear, sincere man, like my unforgettable mother, Beyle. She was a Ludmir native, the daughter of Dovid Shreiber. My two brothers, Henekh and Moyshe, were both very learned. My remarkable, brilliant brother Henekh was also familiar with secular literature. His house was full of bookshelves. His wife, my sister-in-law Chane, was the daughter of a rabbi. They had two young boys, Dovid and Yankele.

My youngest brother, Moyshe, was also a fine, intelligent young man, and a good student. Their tender lives were cut short in Ludmir.

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My aunt, Foygl-Feyge, her husband Shmuel, and their five children – boys and girls – were all murdered.

Aunt Chame, her husband Fishl, and their three children lived in Chelm. All were murdered.

Our aunt Esther was the youngest of this large, beautiful family. She lived in Ustyluh, with her husband and two children. None survived.

Aunt Miriam, Uncle Moyshe's wife, survived, along with her children. They are living in Israel and America.

It was a family of scholars, pious Jews, who fulfilled the phrase “Torah and merchandise.”^[1]

Translator's Footnote

1. The phrase is derived from Midrash Tanchuma, a 9^h-century Midrash on the five books of the Torah. One of its verses praises the virtues of Torah over the value of merchandise. Return

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My grandfather (may he rest in peace), Yoel Yitzchok Zuberman, was born sometime around 1855, in the village of Łuszków, four kilometers from Horodlo.

As the only son of my great-grandfather, he was raised as a very pious Hasid. After his marriage to a woman of the Radzin Rebbe's family, from Chelm, he left for two years of religious studies with the ‘Orchos Chaim’ (may his righteous memory be for a blessing).^[1]

Shortly after the death of my great-grandfather, his oldest son was born and named after this ancestor, Dovid Yosef Zuberman (may he rest in peace). He was followed by a daughter, Fradl, my father Yankev (may he rest in peace), a daughter (Chaya), another son, Tzvi (the father of a daughter, Rokhl, who is living in Buenos Aires), a daughter, Nechama (may she rest in peace), son Moyshe Aaron, and daughters Feyge and Esther (may they rest in peace).

The children were raised in the village, completely surrounded by Ukrainian Gentiles, and were busy with studies and prayer. Even Fradl, the daughter, would participate in the discussions on a difficult issue in the Mishna.

The oldest son was married in Horodlo. My father and mother (she was from Grabowiec) continued to live in Łuszków, as did Fradl.

My grandfather, one of the most renowned mohels in the region, circumcised his own grandsons. Two of his daughters were married in Chelm. Feyge, who was born in Horodlo, also continued to live in our village, as did his son, Tzvi, from Ludmir. Moyshe was married in Wieslowic. Incidentally,

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he was the only one to be conscripted into the Russian army, and was taken prisoner by the Hungarians.

All began to have children. Thus, my mother, in the village, gave birth to six sons and two daughters.

Grandfather led the prayers beautifully. He had his own minyan, at the home of his son, Tzvi.^[2] They celebrated the High Holidays at the nearby town of Ustyluh.

I was barely four years old then, yet I remember – as though it was today – the joyous Saturday evening gatherings at my grandfather's house. Each son and son-in-law honored Grandfather with a song. We, the grandchildren, played and danced in the dark, until there was a rap at the window. It was the Gentiles, letting us know that stars were visible overhead, so that my father could open up the shop and sell them kerosene.

Grandfather was highly respected by all the Gentiles of the village, and even by the authorities. They valued him so much that he was once able to refuse taking an oath in court, and was relieved of that duty.

And so we lived, near each other, until the disaster of 1914. The retreating Russians set the village on fire. We had to find a new home, and initially moved to another village before settling in the town of Horodlo.

There, we shared in all the misfortunes and joys of the town. We provided the town with prayer-leaders, Torah readers, mohels, Bible experts, and scholars in general. At the end of the war, when my brothers, cousins, and many young people began to leave the benches of religious scholars in the synagogue and the House of Study and devoted themselves to Zionism, Hebrew, and settlement in the Land of Israel, we – Zubermans, Goldbergs, Lerners, Zavidoviches, Herbsts, Stavs, Bidermans, Bermans – as well as many others, constituted the so-called intellectuals of the town.

Oh, life was truly lovely!

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Thousands of families like ours, Ashkenazis as well as Sefardis, were murdered at the despicable hands of our foes, the Germans. Let our people never forget these martyrs! Their shining memory will illuminate our paths as long as we live! And the enemy will never be forgotten, the subject of mockery, condemnation, and revenge!

Translator's Footnotes

1. Rabbinical authors were often known by the titles of their books. I was not able to identify the 19^th-century author of a book with this title. Return
2. The minyan is the traditional quorum of ten Jewish men required to recite certain prayers. Return

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