First Soccer Team in Kremenets	4
Killing Field (behind the Barracks)	10
Avraham Barshap	15
[Untitled sketch 1]	16
Melekh (Munek) Katz	17
[Untitled sketch 2]	18
Yosef Pak	19
[Untitled sketch 3]	20
Arye (Leyb) Kotliar	21
[Untitled sketch 4]	24

Anders, Władysław, Gen.	17
Argaman, Avraham	i, 2, 23
Avidar, Yosef (see also Rokhel, Yosef)	23
Bar-Mor, Mordekhay, Lt. Col. (see also Bishbeyn)	22, 24
Barshap, Avraham	15 (photo), 15-16
Barshap, Binyamin	15
Barshap, Eliezer	9, 10
Barshap*, Masha	15, 16
Baytler, Niusye	17
Baytler, Siunye	17
Bernshteyn, Tsvi	14, 23
Bezpoysnik, Yitschak	22
Biberman, Noa	24
Biberman*, Riva	24
Biberman, Yitschak	24
Bishbeyn, Mordekhay (see also Barmor, Bar-Mor)	22, 24
Bitker, Fanya	22, 24
Borvil, Pinchas	23
Brodski family	13
Brodski, Shaul	13
Brodski, Tsonya	13
Chachkis, Malchi	8
Chirga, Motki	4 (photo), 5
Chmerinski, Ronen	24
Chmerinski, Shoshana	24
Chmerinski, Tsvika	24
Chmerinski*, Dvora (née Pesis)	24
Dayan, Nechemya (Chemik)	24
Dayan*, Nira (née Vishniov)	24
Desser family	13
Desser, Manus	13
Desser, Max	i, 2, 13
Desser, Tonya	13
Domanski (school principal)	3
Eydelman-Tamir, Yitschak	22
Fayer, Chayim	23
Feld, Matil	4 (photo)
Fishman, Yasha	23
Gakman (band)	7
Gelbman, Tsvika	24
Gelbman*, Yehudit (née Miler)	24
Gindes, Yasha	4 (photo)
Glikman, Miryam	22, 24
Glikman, Zev	24
Gokun*, Tova	24
Gokun, Yosef	24
Golberg, Dorit	24
Golberg*, Miryam	24
Golberg, Yehoshue	i, 14, 15, 23, 24
Goldenberg*, Chana (née Gurvits)	i, 3, 14
Goldenberg, Liova	4 (photo)
Goldenberg, Manus	i, 1, 3, 4 (photo), 14, 19, 21, 22, 23
Goltsberg*, Miryam (née Grinberg)	22, 24
Goltsberg, Yitschak	24
Gorinshteyn, Azriel	4 (photo), 7, 19
Gorinshteyn, Munye	4 (photo)
Grinberg, Miryam	22, 24
Gurvits, Chana	3
Gurvits, Liora	6
Hauzner, Gidon	13
Hipsh, Moshe	7
Isaacs, Bernard	23
Kagan, Netanel (Senya)	1, 8, 23
Kalinovski (not given)	4, 5
Katkovnik, Idel	23
Katz, Ben-Tsion	17
Katz, Marios	i
Katz, Melekh (Munek)	17 (photo), 17, 22
Katz, Mordekhay	1, 22, 23
Katz*, Rut	18
Katz*, Tsipa	22, 23
Katz, Yosef	18
Kiperman, Neta	23
Kitay, Niunya	9
Klayn*, Karmela	24
Klayn, Shlome	24
Kohen, Rachel	24
Komidat, Zeylig	4 (photo)
Kotliar, Arye (Leyb)	21 (photo), 21, 22
Kotliar*, Brayna	21
Kotliar, Gidon	21
Koussevitsky (cantor)	13
Kozlovski (not given)	7
Kremechugski, Shelya	22
Kremenchugski, Ya'al	22
Krivin, Avraham	5
Krivin, Shalom	5
Landsberg, Avraham	24
Landsberg, Binyamin	3
Landsberg, Tsvika	24
Landsberg*, Helen	24
Landsberg*, Chana	24
Laybel, Yisrael	23
Levinzon, Avraham	21
Mandelblat, Munya	23
Miler, Chayim	24
Miler*, Ita	24
Miler, Yehudit	24
Mordish, Chayim	22, 23
Mordish, Karmela	24
Mordish, Shalom	24
Mordish*, Yehudit	24
Nadir*, Rachel (née Otiker)	i, 2, 11, 13
Nelik* (wife of Ruven)	22
Nelik, Ruven	22, 24
Nudel, Chayim	23
Nudel, Mordekhay Hirsh	21
Oks, Velvel	23
Otiker, Rachel	i, 2, 11, 13
Ot-Yakar, Mordekhay	i, 14, 23
Pak*, Chaya	19
Pak, Yosef	19 (photo), 19-20
Peker, Moshe	23
Pesis, Dvora	24
Portnoy, Munye	4 (photo)
Portnoy, Yitschak	17, 22, 23
Rabinovits, Misha	4 (photo)
Rapoport, David	i, 1
Rayzman, Fayvel	23
Rokhel, Amir	24
Rokhel*, Ayelet	24
Rokhel, Chanokh	2, 24
Rokhel*, Rachel	24
Rokhel, Sagi	24
Rokhel, Yitschak	i, 1, 11, 14, 22,
Rokhel, Yosef (see also Avidar, Yosef)	23
Roykh, Yisrael	23
Rozenfeld, Avrasha	4, 5
Rubin, David, R'	9
Rubin family	8
Schaefer (singer)	13
Shafir, Yakov	3
Sharir, Moshe	24
Sharir*, Noa (née Biberman)	24
Sharir, Yair	24
Sherman (cantor)	13
Shifris, Eliyahu	24
Shifris, Yefim	4 (photo)
Shifris, Yosef	24
Shnayder, Zev	23
Shpak, Yitschak	23
Shtern, Yehudit	i
Shteyner, Ayzik	6
Shumski, Zev (Velya)	22
Shvarts, Betsalel	8
Sibiryakov (singer)	13
Sofer, Nolik	4 (photo)
Stern, Isaac	13
Taytelman, Shmuel	i, 1, 13, 14, 22, 23
Topaz, Chayim	22, 24
Topaz*, Fanya (née Bitker)	22, 24
Toren-Feldman, Dvora	23
Trakhtenberg, Avrasha	17
Tsizin, Avshalom	22
Tsizin, Shmuel	23
Tsukerman, David	1
Vaynberg (husband of Miryam Glikman)	24
Vaynberg*, Miryam (née Glikman)	22, 24
Viktor (husband of Shoshana Chmerinski)	24
Vishniov, Hertsel	24
Vishniov, Nira	24
Vishniov*, Shifra	24
Vitels (not given)	6
Yechiel (husband of Tova Gokun)	24
Zats, Klara	23, 24
Zilberberg*, Dorit (née Golberg)	24
Zilberberg, Ruven	24

A long delay: Booklet 7 was late in arriving. Eight months have gone by since the previous one was published (on 4/7/1970), and much material has accumulated. Material for the next booklet, no. 8, which will be published before Passover, has already been prepared. We hope that the reasons behind the delay in the arrival of booklet 7 (mostly personal) will not happen again.

Now, after these words of apology, let us review the contents of this booklet.

New faces: Two new participants join us for the first time: David Tsukerman of Haifa, who describes the tribulations his family endured when the Nazis conquered Kremenets. A continuation and translation into Hebrew will appear in the next booklet.

Netanel (Senya) Kagan of Petach Tikva gives his impressions of his visit to a Kremenets without Jews in 1945, three years after their destruction.

An interesting chapter on life in Jewish Kremenets is presented by our member Manus in his review, “Jewish Sports in Kremenets.” These enthusiastic, eager young people held an honored place in our town and also developed a sports movement worthy of its name. The article holds up an accurate mirror of the town and its colorful ways. This is an extensive subject, and its continuation, as well as a translation into Yiddish, will appear in booklet 8.

The three arms of the Diaspora of Kremenets emigrants are Israel, Argentina, and the United States. In the previous booklet, our member Mordekhay Katz reviewed our colony in Argentina. Now David Rapoport reviews the Kremenetser colony in New York. After that comes the turn of the largest community of Kremenets emigrants – the one in Israel.

Our member Y. Rokhel gives current information on the organization in Israel in his review “Happenings in the Kremenets Organization.”

Argentina section: This time, we have placed all information, photos, and announcements from Argentina in this separate Argentina section. Readers of our booklets will be able to recognize the activists among our town's emigrants from in Argentina face to face in photos.

In connection with this, we note that the previous article by our member Mordekhay Katz (in booklet 6) included several errors that caused a change in the meaning. This will be remedied in booklet 8.

The mailbox is very full this time. Five members from the United States and two from Israel express their feelings and longings for times gone by and their emotions on their childhood home's annihilation. By reading our booklet, they return to their childhood home and a world that now appears perfect.

[Page 2]

A meeting abundant in the experiences of Kremenetsers in Israel and of overseas guests is described by Rachel Nadir-Otiker. It is not an unusual meeting, but this article gives us the proper outlook on such meetings. Let's not discount the possibility that, in its wake, our member Max Desser of Canada will present us with an in-depth article about Jewish folk music in Kremenets, to be published in a future booklet.

This time, too, we have lost few members from our midst, among them some active members of our organization, and we have dedicated a special section to their memory. And in contrast, we offer a congratulations section for special family occasions (those of which we have been informed).

Feasting the eyes is more important than pursuing desire. Our member Avraham Argaman presents the readers with new drawings between the two parts of the booklet and a few other small drawings that color and enliven the written material.

Reading and translations: This time, again, not all the material appears in both languages so as not to make the booklet too bulky. We highly recommend to those members who have difficulty reading the other language (be it Hebrew or Yiddish) that they make an effort to read everything, even if they are not well versed in the other language – the material deserves to be read.

And last: From now on, the price of the booklet will be I£3 instead of I£2. There was no alternative to this step. We produced the previous booklets at a financial loss, and now prices have risen quite a bit more. We hope members will accept this with understanding. And again, we request that you send us your payment (and any other amount you owe) without delay. You can pay the sum at any bank, even the post office bank, to be deposited into account 52273 of Bank Hapoalim's central branch in Tel Aviv. You may certainly send us the payment by check, from any bank, payable to the order of the Organization of Kremenets Emigrants.

For the coming Festival of Lights – our blessings: Happy holidays!

Editorial Board

As the printing of this booklet neared completion, we received the sad news about the passing of Chanokh Rokhel Founder of the first Pioneer branch in Kremenets and a founder of Kibbutz Tel Yosef

[Page 3]

I am anxious for this article of mine to reach our children, wherever they are. It may be helpful for them to see the image of youth, and of Diaspora Jews in general in those days, in a different light from the one that has been distorted here, consciously or unconsciously.

This time, I'm trying to draw from the depths of my memories, a period filled with the charm and vivacity of youth on a background of green groves and fields bursting with wild flowers in the brightness of the heartwarming sun.

From World War I until the end of the Civil War and the Soviet-Polish war – a period of six years – Kremenets was like a besieged town. Cultural life and social activities came nearly to a halt. Contact with the central cities of Russia, and even with the towns and villages in the vicinity, was very unstable. For most of those years, Kremenets was on the front, under military rule and all that comes with it.

Only after a peace agreement between the Soviets and the Poles was reached, when the rule of the latter was being established, did we begin to breathe easily. Even though the peace and tranquility were far from stable, we could begin social and cultural activities.

Jewish newspapers from the centers of Poland and Galicia began to arrive, bringing with them tidings of the great flourishing of youth movements in the Jewish sector there. From those papers and from the few people who visited Warsaw, Lvov, and other towns, we learned about the national youth movements recently established throughout Poland.

At the initiative of Yakov Shafir and with the help of Binyamin Landsberg, we, a group of students, established a Youth Guard cell that had (at that time) the character of nearly pure scouting. Activities consisted mostly of long-distance hiking in our area, drilling exercises, and the study of the Zionist movement and its meaning. This activity included lectures and discussions on those subjects by members. We were directed by Chana Gurvits, now Goldenberg. The lectures took place underground in the depths of the Mount Vidomka forest. Later, we found out that undercover policemen were following us all the time. One day, our school principal, Domanski, warned us that we were to be caught during a meeting, so we had to stop our activities temporarily.

We diverted all our energies to the field of sports. We saw physical training as a top national priority. Our mountainous and picturesque area constantly attracted city residents to take long hikes in the forests and fields on the hills, and this was an important cause of the strength of the Jews there. The small group at the core of the Youth Guard, students from the upper classes of the School of Commerce, took many long hikes in all seasons. In the summer, we went swimming in the river seven kilometers from town, through dusky paths and dry stream beds, shady woods and blazing fields. Singing birds and intoxicating aromas aroused feelings of joy and happiness in us. In the villages on our way, we hiked in formation, singing cheerful songs. We returned home tired but in high spirits and the scents of nature's celebration of summer.

[Page 4]

On one of those hikes, we went all the way to Dubna, 30 kilometers from us, where a soccer game was being held between a local Maccabee team and one from the Polish army stationed there. For most of us, it was the first time in our lives that we had seen this game. What is more, the ball itself was a completely new thing for us. True, as children, we had played a few games with balls, but in those games, we used balls we made from rags.

It was a great feeling for us to see these festive goings-on: on a wide green field, players from the two teams ran quickly, an assembly of onlookers shouted, and an army band played throughout the game. The result: we watched and got hooked. We decided on the spot to organize a soccer team. We envisioned something similar happening in our town, and what seemed at the time to be a nice dream very quickly became a reality, as you will see here.

Without any help or encouragement from anyone, we got to work. There were many obstacles in our way: we had no financial means; in Kremenets, a town build on the slopes of hills, there was no flat area to be found for a soccer field; none of us had short pants for sports, and they were not available in our stores; and worst of all, there was no soccer ball to be found in the whole town.

First Soccer Team in Kremenets Standing, left to right: Yasha Gindes, Azriel Gorinshteyn, Misha Rabinovits. Seated, first row: Munye Gorinshteyn, Munye Portnoy, Zeylig Komidat, Nolik Sofer. Seated, second row: Manus Goldenberg, Matil Feld, Yefim Shifris, a high school student from Dubna. Missing: Liova Goldenberg and the goalie, Motki Chirga.

And here help came to us from high above; from there came our ball – a ball from Israel. From such a source, how could it be otherwise?

[Page 5]

This is how the story goes: one day Avraham Krivin – son of Shalom Krivin, the leather merchant – came from Israel, where he had lived for many years, to visit his parents. We heard that he had brought a big ball as a gift for his sister's little children. Without delay, a delegation was dispatched to him to present our problem. Our happiness was endless when he responded favorably to our request, and we left his house with the ball in our hands. This ball was larger and heavier than the soccer ball used at the time.

Now we could get to work. We started training with enthusiasm and pious devotion; for four to five hours a day (it was summer vacation), we kicked the ball endlessly, without knowing exactly what we were supposed to do. Avrasha Rosenfeld taught us that defenders were permitted to ram players with their shoulders. My brother and I, who were chosen to be defenders because of our heavy build, worked with our shoulders and elbows more than our feet. The poor players who dared to get close to the goalpost went flying and rolling like straw dolls in the dusty field.

It happened that two brothers, Polish officers, heard about our training, so they came riding up on their horses to join us. As soon as we saw them kick, we realized that they were excellent players. It was hard to imagine that there might be a goalie in the world that could stop such a kick. When they attacked us, my brother and I would lunge at them, and before they were close enough to the ball to kick it into the goal – where our town's first goalie, Motki Chirga, was standing and shivering in fright – we threw them to the ground. The first time, they cursed vigorously in Russian, but after a few times, they felt insulted. Very angry, one of them ran to his horse and brought out a gun. This “delicate” hint was sufficient to cool our enthusiasm once and for all.

Not having anywhere or anyone to practice with, the officers continued to come to us. After a while, we became friendly with them, and they started to train with us, insisting that it was forbidden to ram during the game. We understood what had made them so angry.

One day they notified us that they had come to say goodbye, as they were leaving on a highly secret, dangerous mission. It was not difficult to guess where they were going and what the mission was, knowing their proficiency in the Russian language. We never saw them again, but we heard that only one of them returned from this mission.

After the officers left, we were again without instruction, but then a young man from Dubna arrived in town who, we were told, was a soccer expert. He agreed to train us in exchange for room and board – a few days at each of our homes, in a set order.

After a few days of training, our coach decided that we were ready to play against another team, if one could be found. In those days, some young Russians organized a team consisting of discharged army soldiers and officers who had played soccer while in service.

Our game with them – which could be called a historical event for Kremenets, because it was the first soccer game there – was played in Kalinovski's field, with the same goalposts improvised from branches and the same improvised shorts. Our spectators were the many children who followed us to practice each day, calling and shouting. Our defeat was colossal. Even though we saw it coming, we went home mourning and ashamed.

[Page 6]

The “fellowship” of little ones dared to show their disdain toward their disappointing gods with earsplitting whistles. With this accompaniment, we came back to town.

This did not weaken our resolve. On the contrary, we had a fierce desire to beat the Russian team in a second “international” game. We decided to reorganize and tackled the subject with all our youthful enthusiasm. First, we chose a delegation that we charged with the task of touring the length and breadth of Mount Vidomka to find us a proper site for a soccer field. I was the leader of the group, as I knew the mountain well, having roamed there very often in summer and winter. There were some beautiful corners there. In each of my wanderings, I was surprised by spectacular scenery that I had never seen before. But in none of those places had I seen a flat area that could serve as a soccer field.

The delegation went out early in the morning. Heavy dew covered the green fields that we had to cross; the air was clear and fresh, and silence was all around, accentuated by the songs of birds on high branches. We were angry with those among us who could not control their emotions and disturbed the stillness with shouts of admiration.

When the day's heat increased, we went down into the cool, dry riverbed shaded by trees. Arriving at the end of the riverbed, we found that our eyes were blinded by the bright sunlight, and a primeval landscape appeared in front of us; a small glen, green and flat, enclosed by steep slopes covered with a thick forest of birch and fir trees. A boy shepherding his cow not far from there told us that there was a bubbling spring close by. We went down to it and quenched our thirst in the cool water. This was a Garden of Eden for athletes.

We did not realize at that time what an important part this discovery would play in the life of the town's sports. The next day, we went to the forestry office in the Dubna suburb, asking for a lease on that hill. They searched a few maps and found it under the Russian name of Rotten Lake. That name is engraved in the heart of every surviving person from Kremenets. The clerk set a low price for the lease, and we paid it on the spot out of our pocket money.

Encouraged by this great success, we went to clothing merchant Ayzik Shteyner's store, because we had heard that he had expressed an interest in what was happening with our soccer games. Shteyner agreed to give us cloth for uniforms on credit until the next game and also promised to bring us a new soccer ball from Warsaw. A few days later, we had our uniforms, made of white cloth piped with light blue. The uniforms were very large, and when we ran during the game, they puffed up like sails in the wind, but this did not diminish our pride in them. The new ball arrived, and two wooden goalposts were erected.

On a Sabbath morning two weeks after our shameful defeat, Jews on their way to the synagogues crowded around a strange poster at Mr. Vitels' store on which Liora Gurvits had painted a giant soccer player kicking a ball. Under it was written “Come all to watch the game today on Mount Vidomka at Rotten Lake between Maccabee A and Yakur” (the team that had defeated us).

Most of these Jews had no idea what this was all about.

[Page 7]

Some of us who had been appointed ahead of time stood by the poster and explained the matter, and it made the day's discussion in the synagogue. The crowd near the poster didn't let up all through that summer morning. We weren't satisfied with this advertisement alone; as evening fell, two days before the event, the town crier – Moshe “Hipsh,” the porter with patriarchal-looking head, big solid body, and thick rope around his hips – stood like a rock in a central part of the area full of people, and with his customary opening, knocking on the pavement with his heavy cane in the same spot, he called in his thundering voice:

“Da hat adam harishon gepisht!” (the first human urinated here); that is to say, this is the center of the world, and as such it is most important to publicize it. These preparations attracted a large collection of curious people, and then came the announcement itself, which was completely different from what he had been used to announcing for many years:

“On the coming holy Sabbath, may it be to our benefit, after the kugel, all the town's Jews will go up the Vidomka to watch the great soccer match between the great Maccabee and the great Yakur. Music will be played by the great Gakman band.”

The advertisements and discussions around them did their job. That Sabbath afternoon, the people came en masse toward Rotten Lake, an hour and a half's walk from town. The area's great magnificence was not lost on them; the soft sounds of the orchestra's waltzes blended well with the tranquility of the landscape. The trees on the edges shaded the soccer field, and, with pleasure, the people breathed in the cool air saturated with the aroma of the rich flora. To the tune of a march, the two teams darted out of the forest. At the sight of our white and blue uniforms, the faces of the Jewish spectators radiated with pleasure. We waited with bated breath for the whistle by the referee (our own coach). Those few moments were sufficient to fill our hearts with happiness. We saw the festive atmosphere all around and knew that the dream that had begun in Dubna three months before was now a reality.

The referee's loud whistle brought us back to the present. The battle began. We knew that this battle would decide, positively or negatively, the future of the Jewish sports in Kremenets in the coming years. We knew that if we were victorious, we would win the people's affections, which we needed, and if we were defeated, we would lose it and be left alone without help.

We won! The Jewish audience went wild with excitement. The little fellows who had booed us only two weeks before stormed the field and demonstrated their joy by hugging the victorious players' legs. Our happiness was diminished somewhat when a group of young Poles came down to us from the forest after the game, led by a tall man wearing a gun on his belt. He called for the organizers of the game; I went to him with Azriel Gorinshteyn, the team captain, and he ordered us to clear off the field. He introduced himself as Kozlovski, the Lyceum sports teacher, and said that the field and all the surrounding forests were the property of the Lyceum, so they were taking it over. No signed agreements with the forestry department were binding on them.

After some discussion with him, he agreed to let us practice there and hold games and sporting events when the field was unoccupied. Indeed, for few years we continued to do so without a problem.

[Page 8]

Our victory over the Yakur team was our shining hour; it laid the foundation for all branches of Jewish sports, which were a source of pleasure and national pride to our town's Jewish residents in the coming years.

On the flourishing of physical culture in the town, how it came about, and its blessed influence on Jewish residents, see the next booklet.

The year 1970 marks 25 years since my feet stood on the soil of our town, Kremenets, for the second time. Three months after World War II ended, I decided to go and see with my own eyes what was left and who was alive there. This was in August 1945. I went to search; perhaps I would meet someone from our beloved ones. My disappointment was bitter.

My first stop was in Lvov, where surviving Jews had congregated. On that day, a memorial was held in the one synagogue left in town. I went there – maybe I would find someone from Kremenets. Indeed, I met Malchi Chachkis, and from her I learned that Betsalel Shvarts had survived and was in Lvov, but I could not reach him.

The next day, I started on my dangerous adventure – to reach Kremenets. At that time, Ukrainian gangs were rioting in the area, and there was no regular transportation. I hitched a ride on a truck going to Dubn0 by way of Lutsk. The road went through Zlochov, Brody, and Radzivilov^[1]. I saw the destruction and ruins and imagined what was awaiting me in Kremenets.

Now we were in Dubna, but how to get from there to Kremenets? The train was in ruins, and the only “connection” available was a truck that brought crops from Kremenets and returned empty. I somehow pushed myself into the line and climbed onto the truck. Luckily for me, I was then wearing a Red Army uniform and carrying a pistol in my pocket. Although it was not in working order, at least it might make an impression.

Near Smiga^[2], we encountered the gangs, which started firing at us, but we came out unharmed and arrived in Byelokrenitsi – the trucker's last stop. I demanded that he drive me to the electricity plant in town, as I was (pretending to be) on a mission from the authorities, and I threatened him with my rusty pistol. He complied, and I got to the electricity plant.

It was evening – Sabbath eve. I continued on my way on foot. Told that the Rubin family had returned to town and was living near the Bozliana, I tried to reach them. It was dark, and not a soul was to be seen. I recalled in my memory the noisy, busy life in this area every day of the week, particularly on Sabbath eve, when each family celebrated at home, happy and joyous after returning from the synagogue, and after the meal, the young ones would go out for a walk. Now there was silence, no trace of all that. Across from me were the Dyevichi Mountains, where people walked and enjoyed themselves.

Deep in memories, I slowly approached the Rubin family's apartment. I hesitated to disturb them with my unexpected visit, and then, through the window, I saw the daughters walking in the kitchen.

[Page 9]

I knocked softly on the door and announced my name. The door opened, and they recognized me immediately. R' David Rubin woke up from his nap and welcomed me. An intense but gloomy conversation began to flow: who had been killed and who had survived, who was in town and who was out of town. I also saw Eliezer Barshap (now in the Land, in Ramla). Each one had his own story, and so much to tell. None of us had thought that we would ever meet again; we all had gone through a hard and horrendous three years.

. . . The next morning, I went out to tour the town and see the destruction that the wild beast of prey in human form had brought down. The municipal and government buildings – the fire station, the post office, and from a distance the town hospital could be seen – were still standing unharmed.

As I came to where the Great Synagogue had stood – not a trace of it was left! I could hardly recognize the place. Even the houses all around, Jewish houses, were destroyed. Brokenhearted, I continued down the long main street, Sheroka, which was the Jewish center of town. It was completely destroyed. All the houses and streets had become a wasteland. As for the market, it was still there, but without any Jews. The remaining houses had been taken over by the “neighbors.” I walked around in the market and met some Ukrainian acquaintances, who were amazed: how did you manage to stay alive? I replied, it's OK, many of us were saved – some in the partisans and some in the army. We'll come back here, and then we'll tell you. I felt that they weren't happy with those words, and they all said, “It wasn't our fault.” In spite of that, I saw my people's murderer of in each one of them. They had the audacity to ask me to talk to Niunya Kitay, who was in charge of income taxes, about lightening their taxes. But that's how I found out that he was working in the government offices and that a few more Jews worked with him in similar jobs.

I left the market and went to see who the clerks in the government offices were, and realized that most of them were Nazi collaborators. I went to the town mayor and asked him: how can this be? Does he trust people who were in league with the Nazis? He theorized that they were experts at their jobs and could be relied on; they worked in the offices most of the day, and that way, they were being watched so they could do no harm. Also, this way he could discover who had collaborated with and followed the Nazis. I didn't argue with him. It wouldn't have helped anyway, but my heart ached to see those who had collaborated with the Nazis holding positions of authority, and this in a government that had come to get rid of the Nazi regime.

I went to see the Lyceum, the Pravoslavic Church (the Sobor), and the Catholic Church. Those institutions were standing as before, but all the property of Jews that surrounded them had been destroyed down to the foundations. What interested me was not the destruction of the property, but that these houses had been bustling with Jewish life, and now not one Jewish soul was to be found.

From far away, I could see Mount Bona. It, too, evoked memories of the past, when it had been a center for walks and for gatherings of young people.

And so I finished my Sabbath, tired and downhearted from all I had seen.

The next day, I went to see the cemetery – of those that had been privileged to be buried – but even there, the criminals' hand was apparent: many of the headstones were missing, having been used in to pave roads, as if stones and rocks were scarce in Kremenets. Apparently – in the eyes of the Nazis – gravestones were more suitable.

[Page 10]

From there, Barshap and I went to the killing field to see the place where thousands of our brethren found their death. Here the two of us were in the valley, “and it is full of bones,” as in the prophet Ezekiel's words, only not as he said – these bones would never live again . . . . Our tears flowed for the bitter fate of our nation's innocent. An atmosphere like that on the Ninth of Av enveloped us, and we recalled the lament of the prophet Jeremiah 8:23: “My eyes, my eyes are a fount of tears, and I will weep day and night for my slain people . . . .”

We couldn't bring our dead back to life, so at least let us guard their honor and respect the remnants of their corpses so that they won't be defiled. We began to collect the bones, one and the other, and buried them in the earth; they should not be scattered and rolling around on the ground. The sight made a horrible impression on us, an impression never to be erased.

I was too sad and despondent to remain in town. I went back via Vishnevits, Zbarazh, and Ternopol^[3], and there were destruction and ruins everywhere.

Broken-spirited, I called: My God, revenge your people's spilled blood!

Killing Field (behind the Barracks)

[Page 11]

(Excerpt from a speech given during the August 16, 1970, memorial)

This time, although it is not usual, we will give a brief review of the organization's activities at the end of the memorial.

Voice of Kremenets Emigrants. The most prominent activity is the publication of our booklet, Voice of Kremenets Emigrants, which began in April 1967 as a onetime publication. Now, close to this Chanukah (1970), booklet 7 will be published. Each booklet contains 45 to 55 pages, and nearly 700 copies are printed. A small group of members does this job with loyalty and devotion, making an effort to vary the material and include something new in each booklet. We also have a graphic artist among us who ensures that the booklet looks good and contains visual material, too. The reactions of subscribers in the Land and abroad are favorable, and some are even glowing. We have discovered that these articles are of interest to people other than Kremenets emigrants, including assorted research institutes. We try as much as possible to have members from abroad participate. The booklet has two goals: first, to sustain the memory of Kremenets through stories of life there, memories, and descriptions of personalities and events and, second, to use it to maintain communication among members in the Land and in other countries. It looks as if those goals have been more or less achieved. We have two requests for our readers: make sure to send your payment for the booklets on time, and notify the editor ahead of time and in a clear, precise way about family events that you want to have announced (marriages, births, and deaths; bar mitzvahs will not be announced).

The RYB”L Library of Enlightenment literature is developing and expanding. Books from the Enlightenment era are accumulating, and the number reached beyond the 1,000 level. A special librarian tends the library once a week, and with her help, a classified catalog of the books was prepared and printed. Still, we are not satisfied with this project. The potential readers who need such a research library – the teacher, the student of Hebrew literature or Jewish history, etc. – have not found their way to the RYB”L Library. In the upcoming 1970/71 season, we plan on talking with schools of higher learning and, with the help of the catalog, explaining to them the material we have to offer. The library room, as you know, is also used as a club for Kremenetsers in the Land: for board meetings, receptions for out-of-town visitors, and a gathering place for all sorts of events.

Ties with Kremenets emigrants in other countries are quite solid. The booklets do an excellent job here. Guests who arrive in the Land for a visit are welcomed by a representative of the organization, most often in the RYB”L Library, where they feel some of the Kremenets atmosphere. Sometimes an exciting and interesting conversation develops, and both sides remember the meeting for a long time (see the article by Rachel Nadir in this booklet).

[Page 12]

Active members of the organization in the Land, on one side, and in Argentina, on the other, have worked for a long time on the international convention of Kremenets emigrants that was to take place in Israel in April 1970. A detailed program was prepared for the convention itself and for the guests' tour of the country. That plan had to be temporarily canceled for unexpected reasons, but it may be held at a different time (see the articles dealing with this subject in booklets 4, 5, and 6).

Intensive correspondence between us and active members abroad also creates unity. Thanks to all that, there is a feeling that Kremenets emigrants in the entire Diaspora are partners in making sure that the memory of the town will not be erased, at least not in this generation.

On Holocaust and Heroism Remembrance Day, 27 Nisan, lectures are held each year in the RYB”L Library hall for students at the teachers' college. To class after class, one of our members tells about Kremenets before the annihilation. According to the teachers, these meetings have a great educational value. The future teachers hear from the original source about the life of the Jews in the destroyed Diaspora – an honest description, unlike the distorted impression that has taken root, sadly, among the younger generation in Israel.

Social work. We must note that the community of Kremenets emigrants in the Land constitutes a constructive collection of assorted professional workers who earn their livelihood without the need for other people's support. But, as in any community, even in ours there are few cases who need care and even financial support. The care and support are given generously and in friendly manner, as much as our means enables.

Holiday parties are held each year in Tel Aviv on Chanukah and in Haifa on Purim. The celebrations are family-friendly in nature and are planned by volunteer members. We bring in a performer from outside the organization to read or recite as well as a musical ensemble – it all depends on the venue and members' willingness to help.

An annual memorial. We close the review with what we probably should have started with: the evening of communion with memories of our town's martyrs, which takes place every year on August 14, the day of their annihilation. The attendance of large number of participants in this memorial is proof that the memory of our brethren who were murdered is alive in the survivors' hearts. (See a separate article in this booklet and in booklet 6, in the Mosaic section.)

[Page 13]

It was not the first time that we had cordially hosted Kremenetsers who arrived here from all corners of the world; each time brings us great excitement and leaves deep impressions. It happens that, to bridge the gap of time that separates, distances, and causes us to forget, we stand facing people from the same town, with a common past, unable to find the first word to express our pulsing emotions. Then we find the connecting thread, and a conversation rich with memories of our youth starts to flow. Images and details of our distant past and the place where they grew up and their character was formed arise.

. . . On an evening in late July 1970, we hosted the Brodski family from the United States and the Desser family from Winnipeg, Canada, in our RYB”L Library. Tsonya Brodski, son of Shaul Brodski, who was the head of the Kremenets community at the pinnacle of its expansion, resides in New York now, and this was his and his wife's first visit to the Land. It was Max Desser's third visit here, and this time he participated in the international song festival. Max, his brother Manus, and his sister Tonya are members of Winnipeg's Jewish choral group, which has 30 singers, and they came to the festival with the group. For your information, Max (Mordekhay) has been linked to Jewish music since childhood, singing with his brother Manus in the Great Synagogue's choir. He brought two photographs of that choir with him, one with Cantor Koussevitsky at its head and the other with Cantor Sherman. (One of those photos is printed in this booklet, with the names of the singers.) We sat and identified the singers, some of whom are not alive today and others who are scattered throughout the world; a few were with us at that time, only now they were no longer boy singers but parents and grandparents. A discussion began about the town of Kremenets, which attracted famous cantors who adorned the Grand Synagogue and educated generations in Jewish liturgical music. Then the names of famous Kremenets-born singers (who were not cantors) came up: Isaac Stern, [Lev] Sibiryakov, [Jacob] Schaefer, and others. Max Desser promised us to write down his memories of musical life in Kremenets for the next Voice of Kremenets Emigrants booklet.

The discussion moved from subject to subject, and then we began discussing the younger generation, the children of Kremenets emigrants in Israel and overseas. Was it possible to link them to the memories of the town where their parents grew up? Was it possible to endear them to the simple, original way of life in the Diaspora Jewish town? Indeed, the chances are slim. The problem is a general one, not only for Kremenets emigrants. In connection to that, we talked about Gidon Hauzner's Yad Vashem project: the adoption of the memory of Diaspora communities by the schools in the Land, a project that already includes hundreds of schools. Kremenets emigrants in the Land are helping with this project; naturally, the Kibbutzim College adopted the memorial to Kremenets, and each year on 27 Nisan – the date set for remembering the Holocaust – a few classes of students commune with the town's memory, and our members tell about the town's life and local color before its destruction.

[Page 14]

In addition, in the past few years, a qualitative change has taken place in the schools' view of past life in the Diaspora. This life is seen in a different, positive light – the opposite of the attitude that prevailed before, which emphasized only the negative sides of life in the Jewish Diaspora town.

Those gathered veered from that subject to the organization's internal matters: the matter of the RYB”L Library; much effort is being invested to develop it, and it still does not succeed in attracting potential readers who could benefit greatly from it – young Hebrew and Jewish history teachers and students. The Voice of Kremenets Emigrants booklets were judged very positively for serving as a bridge between the members in the Land and abroad. A suggestion was made to begin offering booklet sections in English and Spanish for members of our younger generation who do not read Hebrew or Yiddish.

The people gathered spoke three languages Hebrew, Yiddish, and English – three languages but one heart, and they felt as if they were members of one large family. Truly, this was an absorbing meeting, from heart to heart, and that was its charm.

About 20 people participated in this gathering. Manus Goldenberg was the moderator, and as usual, told us stories from his treasury of memories of life in the past that even today are just as fresh. Participating in the discussion were Mordekhay Ot-Yakar, Yehoshue Golberg, Shmuel Taytelman, Tsvi Bernshteyn, Yitschak Rokhel, Chana Goldenberg, and others, and obviously the guests.

[Page 15]

Avraham Barshap

The storm of war uprooted Avraham from his warm and loving home and propelled him into wandering until he put down anchor in the town of Aktiovinsk, Kazakhstan, where he met his future wife, Masha.

I met Avraham and Masha by chance. In 1946, I traveled to the town of Glats^[4] on business. I got off the train and was walking toward the station on my way to town when I saw a young man and a pregnant woman sitting on a bench. The man's face looked familiar to me, so I approached him, and we immediately recognized each other. We kissed and both started crying. I sat next to them, and his first question was “where” and “how far?” With no home or parents, in a strange town on German land annexed to Poland after the war, and with a wife in her last months of pregnancy, the couple sitting next to me, I felt, had reached the point of desperation. I told them, “Don't worry. I live in the village of Nova Rida, about an hour's ride from here. Wait for me while I take care of some matters in town, and then we'll go to my place. I have a friendly relationship with the town's mayor. You'll receive a furnished apartment, and work is available in town.”

Indeed, they came to us, and two days later, they received a good apartment and began to settle in. When the time came, we brought Masha to the local hospital, where their first son was born. We brought a ritual circumciser from the town of Dzyerzoniov^[5], and the infant was brought into the covenant of Avraham our father. This was the first circumcision in a German town after the destruction of Polish Jewry. Avraham and Masha's goal was to immigrate to the Land and join his sisters there. Indeed, a few months later, they came over to say their goodbyes to me and said that the next day they would be crossing the border into Czechoslovakia and continuing on from there . . . .

From the day he arrived here, Avraham took an active role in the Organization of Kremenets Emigrants. He was a board member, helped publish the booklet, and with the help of the vehicle assigned to him, he fulfilled all the jobs entrusted to him.

[Page 16]

Avraham loved two things: he loved the Land with a deep abiding love and refused to listen to any criticism of or arguments against the country and its leaders. He loved to help his fellow human beings; he radiated with happiness when he succeeded in helping someone find a suitable apartment, a job, or anything else that was needed.

His house was open to everyone, and whoever went there was always received in a friendly way by Masha and him, as was the custom in his father's home and those of all the Barshaps from the Dubna suburb.

Avraham is survived by his wife, Masha, and their two sons.

May his memory be blessed.

Melekh (Munek) Katz

Munek was born in 1906 in the Ukrainian village of Lyubar^[6]. His father, Ben-Tsion Katz, was known far and wide as a wealthy exporter of grain, a generous man, and a man with an open home, as was customary for the biggest merchants of this kind in Ukraine and Poland.

During the first few years after his arrival, Ben-Tsion and his sons continued to retain his former status. The family's customary ways – their generosity and graciousness – evoked amazement and respect in the people who came in contact with them, whether through business or in the community.

The Poles' anti-Semitic economic policy hit hard, and Katz lost his wealth. As soon as he graduated from high school, Munek began to work as a tax collector, writing people's requests, filling out questionnaires, and the like.

Through these activities and his wonderful sense of observation, he knew all the townspeople and details about their lives.

He completed his service in the Polish army with an officer's rank, a rank that very few (4-5) Jewish soldiers received. Before he went into the army and after his return, he devoted himself to Jewish sports in our town and was very active in organizing various sports. The original participants in Jewish sports in our town contacted the commander of military training for local Polish youth, and he gave them a few guns and assigned them a coach. Later, as a reserve officer, Munek received this assignment and was paid by the Polish army. His second was Avrasha Trakhtenberg (seen in the photo on p. 101 of Pinkas Kremenets, handing over the training kibbutz troop parade to Munek). Munek was married to Niusye Baytler, a professional nurse (who later was murdered in Kremenets during the Holocaust). She was the sister of Siunye Baytler, who was the gymnastics coach for our town's sports organizations.

During World War II, Munek was in the Soviet Union, where he joined Anders' Army^[7] and later came to the Land in 1944. Munek, like most Jews who served in this army, stayed in Israel. He settled in Haifa and started a family. There he joined the Haganah, and when the War of Independence began, he joined the Israel Defense Forces, where he served as an officer during the war and afterward.

[Page 18]

Munek was very involved in the Kremenetser colony in Haifa. Often, during their social gatherings, he would return to the old life in his reminiscences and bring up well-known characters, which pleased his Kremenets listeners.

He was pleasant and always ready to help his fellow human being.

Munek passed away this year on May 27, after a malignant illness. He is survived by his wife, Rut, and his son, Yosef, who is now serving in the Fighting Pioneer Youth^[8].

He donated his body to the university for scientific research.

May his memory be blessed.

Yosef Pak

To our great sorrow, his hope did not come to pass. This letter, then, was the final contribution to his series of wonderful letters to us over the years.

The letters he wrote during the last few months before his death are filled with humor, but the approaching end can be felt; in one of his letters, he writes, “As you can see, my letter is quite pale. What can be done? It proves that I am getting close to the nether world dwellers. Even S. Y. Agnon has departed already.” In the next letter, he brings up an interesting part of his distant past and says, “Kremenets, my Kremenets, how my heart is longing for you! Now, when I am standing near the opening of my grave, many memories awaken and surface. I wish I had enough time to put some of them on paper”. . . .

Yosef and his second wife, Chaya, arrived in Israel in 1958. His first wife and only son perished in the Holocaust. He escaped from Lutsk, where he had lived with his family for 22 years, at the last moment before the Germans entered.

He suffered many hardships on his way to Chekalov^[9], where he was conscripted into service behind the lines. Right after the war ended, he was in Kiev, where he met Chaya. There he was in charge of the town's flower nurseries. His workplace was very close to Babi Yar, which caused him emotional distress and led him to leave Russia as soon as possible.

At the annual memorial 11 years ago, I saw an unfamiliar grown man crying bitterly. When we were introduced at the end of the ceremony, I realized that this broken man was very dear to me: he was the renowned teacher who had given private lessons in Russian, who had coached me, my brother, and my friend Azriel Gorinshteyn successfully for the Jewish Primary School's entrance exams. This was about two years before World War I, when life in our town was peaceful. In those years, Pak and other young Jewish intellectuals devoted their time to promoting education among the working class. He left Kremenets just before World War I began and moved to Odessa, where he lived for some time and continued to give private lessons. There he met with the generation's lions of literature, among them Mendele and Bialik.

A short time after they came to Israel, Yosef and his wife were accepted in the Organization for the Care of Handicapped Immigrants.^[10]

[Page 20]

Both were very active in the institution. Yosef was the treasurer of the local synagogue, a prayer leader, and a Torah reader. He was the representative of the institution's tenants and would greet honored guests who came visiting.

Yosef felt a deep love for the Land and sang its praises in all his letters. In one of them, he wrote, “Our nation's murderers prevented me from having grandchildren to hug. I was not blessed by having any, but all of the IDF soldiers are my grandchildren, and I pray day and night for their well-being.”

The MALBEN staff members liked and respected Pak very much. He was buried in Rishon Letsion cemetery, and many residents of MALBEN's Home for the Aged as well as workers and residents of Rishon Letsion came to the funeral.

It is all over and done with for our beloved fellow townsman; the spring of his memories of our town's past has ceased forever.

May his soul be bound in the bonds of eternal life.

Arye (Leyb) Kotliar

At midnight on May 1, 1970, our member Arye (Leyb) Kotliar passed away after a heart attack. He was 64 years old. Just two days before, he and his wife Brayna had enjoyed a visit with their Kremenetser family in Haifa and returned from the gathering full of emotion.

While still a child, Arye worked as an apprentice to the famous Kremenetser tailor, Mordekhay Hirsh Nudel. There he acquired his profession and surpassed his teacher in the craft.

He was an activist for the Land of Israel in our town, and through that, he had ties to Avraham Levinzon, of blessed memory, the district's minority representative to the Polish Seym. This tie continued in the Land as well.

In 1936, he and his wife immigrated to the Land and soon adjusted to their new life. Being an excellent tailor, he soon found a place in his profession and acquired a circle of customers.

Until three years ago, the Kotliar family's apartment on Shalom Aleichem Street near Ben Yehuda Street had only one bedroom and shared facilities with the neighbors. But that modest apartment, which also contained his workroom, was used as an absorption center for our fellow townspeople both before and after our nation's independence.

You could come to their home without standing on ceremony or announcing yourself in advance, at any time, in the same traditional way as in the old town, without a box of chocolates, a bouquet of flowers, or any gift, and you would be received warmly and offered refreshments made by Brayna's hands. If you came from a long distance, you were even offered a place to sleep. There immigrants from our town could find good advice and news of our people and their whereabouts in the Land.

Occasionally, Kotliar would leave his work in the middle of the day to meet our members and discuss arrangements or help a fellow townsman who came to him in need.

Arye was one of our organization's founders and a devoted board member until his last day. His practical experience was very useful to us in decision making. He was very active in the Tel Aviv craftsmen's organization, and he was well liked by the members of his profession.

Kotliar is survived by his wife, Brayna, his son, Gidon, and a granddaughter.

May his soul be bound up in the bonds of eternal life.

[Page 22]

The memorial for the martyrs of Kremenets took place again this year, on August 16, 1970, in the Kibbutzim College square in Tel Aviv. In attendance were over 200 Kremenets emigrants and their children from all over the country. They came a few hours before the start of the ceremony to enjoy a friendly social gathering, visit the RYB”L Library, view photographs that evoked memories of the town, and while away the time in meetings and memories.

The photos of the Great Synagogue's choir received special attention; people identified the little singers, some of whom are now adults and some old; some were even in attendance. Indeed, such a gathering does a great deal to bring people closer together.

The memorial's leader was our member Manus Goldenberg, who talked about the martyrs and the great tragedy that befell the Kremenets community. Those gathered listened to his words in Hebrew and Yiddish with rapt attention.

Our member Yitschak Portnoy eulogized our departed members who passed away this year, some at a ripe old age and some who were cut down before their time: (1) Yitschak Eydelman-Tamir, (2) Mordekhay Bar-Mor Bishbeyn, (3) Miryam Goltsberg née Grinberg, (4) Miryam Vaynberg née Glikman, (5) Chayim Topaz, husband of Fanya Bitker,( 6) Melekh (Munek) Katz, (7) Arye Kotliar, and (8) Zev (Velya) Shumski.

Member Yitschak Rokhel reviewed the accomplishments of the organization in Israel and described some of its activities (see a separate article).

The memorial ceremony was accompanied by some fitting musical selections.

At the close of the memorial, the chairman greeted two Kremenetsers in attendance who immigrated to Israel this year: Shelya Kremechugski and Ruven Nelik and his wife, as well as a guest from the United States, Yitschak Bezpoysnik.

Member Shmuel Taytelman planned the memorial ceremony.

The chairman of the organization, Chayim Mordish, first recalled Avshalom Tsizin and Ya'al Kremenchugski, of blessed memory, sons of Kremenetsers, who fell in that war.

The secretary of the organization, Mordekhay Katz, conducted the celebration, and member Tsipa Katz talked about the occasion's significance.

There was also a literary-art presentation and a generous collection of funds for the activities of the organization in Israel.

[Page 23]

A new board was elected: Chayim Mordish – chairman; Idel Katkovnik, Yitschak Shpak, and Yisrael Roykh – vice chairmen; Mordekhay Katz, Chayim Nudel, and Tsipa Katz – secretariat; treasurers – Velvel Oks and Yasha Fishman; board members – Chayim Fayer, Moshe Peker, Pinchas Borvil, Yisrael Laybel, and Neta Kiperman.

(1) Mordekhay Ot-Yakar, Tel Aviv; (2) Avraham Argaman (Bots), Ramat Gan; (3) Tsvi Bernshteyn, Holon; (4) Yehoshue Golberg, Tel Aviv; (5) Manus Goldenberg, Tel Aviv; (6) Klara Zats, Tel Aviv; (7) Shmuel Taytelman, Bat Yam; (8) Rachel Otiker, Tel Aviv; (9) Shmuel Tsizin, Ramat Gan; (10) Yitschak Rokhel, Tel Aviv.

Active members of the organization outside Tel Aviv are Yitschak Portnoy and Fayvel Rayzman in Haifa, Netanel Kagan and Munya Mandelblat in Petach Tikva, and Dvora Toren-Feldman in Hadera.

Tasks are distributed among the board members flexibly and without regard for titles. Board meetings are held once every two to four weeks and are chaired mostly by member Rokhel, who also takes care of the RYB”L Library and edits the Hebrew section of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants. Member Manus takes care of the Yiddish section of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants and correspondence with members in the Diaspora. Members Taytelman and Yehoshue Golberg work on the treasury and finances, as well as welfare matters. Member Argaman handles the graphic and artistic part of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants and helps take care of the library. Member Bernshteyn works on office matters.

Not all the functions are enumerated here, and as mentioned, there is no clear distribution of jobs, so that other members do a job when the need arises.

The book received favorable reviews in the press and at the parties held in his honor. The author was urged to continue writing his memoirs, particularly for the younger generation “who did not know Joseph”^[11] – who are unaware of our budding military strength.

[Page 24]

The book is chock full of moving historical material written in a clear, plain, and easy-to-read style.

Congratulations to the author – our fellow townsman – and our blessing for success.

To Fanya Topaz née Bitker and her daughters, Holon, on the death of their husband and father, Chayim Topaz.

To Yitschak Goltsberg and his family, Ramat Gan, on the death of their wife and mother, Miryam née Grinberg.

To Mr. Vaynberg and children, Tel Aviv; Zev Glikman and Rachel Kohen, Jerusalem; and Klara Zats, Tel Aviv, on the death of Miryam Vaynberg née Glikman.

To Yosef Shifris and his family on the death of his son, Eliyahu, in a road accident.

May they be comforted with the rest of the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.

To Riva and Yitschak Biberman, Tel Aviv, on the birth of their fourth grandchild, Moshe, son of Noa and Yair Sharir.

To Yehoshue and Miryam Golberg, Tel Aviv, on the marriage of their daughter, Dorit, to her fiancé, Ruven Zilberberg.

To Yosef Gokun, Haifa, on the marriage of his daughter, Tova, to her fiancé, Yechiel.

To Shifra and Hertsel Vishniov, Kibbutz Sarid, on the marriage of their daughter, Nira, to her fiancé, Chemik-Nechemya Dayan.

To Chana and Avraham Landsberg, Tel Aviv, on the marriage of their son, Tsvika, to his fiancée, Helen, in the United States.

To Ita and Chayim Miler, Afula, on the marriage of their daughter, Yehudit, to her fiancé, Tsvika Gelbman.

To Yehudit and Shalom Mordish, Kibbutz Afek, on the marriage of their daughter, Karmela, to her fiancé, Shlome Klayn.

To Dvora Chmerinski-Pesis, Holon, on the marriage of her daughter, Shoshana, to her fiancé, Viktor, and on the birth of her first grandchild, Ronen, son of Tsvika.

To Chanokh and Rachel Rokhel, Kibbutz Tel Yosef, on the birth of their third grandson, Sagi, son of Amir and Ayelet.

May they all be blessed, and may joy fill our community.

Table of Contents Next Page »

  Kremenets, Ukraine     Yizkor Book Project     JewishGen Home Page

Copyright © 1999-2024 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 15 Sep 2022 by JH