[Page 25]

A Long Pause: Booklet 7 is late in appearing. It has been over eight months (7.4.70), and a great deal of material has accumulated. We have material in reserve that will enable us to put out an eighth booklet at Passover time. And now a glance at the contents of this booklet.

New associates: Duvid Tsukerman from Haifa tells about the experiences of himself and his family when Kremenets was taken over by the Nazis.

The Hebrew translation will appear in the next booklet.

Netanel (Sanye) Kagan shares his impression of a visit to the Jew-free city of Kremenets in 1945–three years after the destruction.

An interesting article about Jewish sports life comes to us from Manus Goldenberg. The young people of Kremenets were devoted to sports, and he brings to life before our eyes an important aspect of professional life in our destroyed city. (The continuation will be in Booklet 8, with a Yiddish translation.)

The three Kremenets landsmanshaftn, Israel, Argentina, and America. In a previous booklet, our friend Mordekhay Katz gave an overview of our colony in Argentina. Now Duvid Rapaport brings us a view of our people in New York. Next will come our largest landsmanshaft–Kremenets in Israel. Our friend Y. Rokhel will tell us all about our organization in Israel.

Argentinian chapter: We have put news, pictures, and announcements from our comrades in Argentina in a special section. Readers of our publication will encounter the activities in Argentina face-to-face. We take this opportunity to call attention to the fact that in Mordekhay Katz's article in Booklet 6, there are several minor errors that will be corrected in Booklet 8.

Letters: In their letters, our members in America as well as in Israel recall nostalgic feelings for the childhood that once was and has now disappeared. Their childhood years appear in vivid colors in their memories. These feelings are awakened through the booklets, for which they express their gratitude.

[Page 26]

An impressive meeting among Kremenetsers in Israel with guests from Canada is described by our Rachel Nadir (Otiker). We hope that our friend Desser from Canada, who participated in the meeting, will soon send us (as promised) something about Yiddish literature and folk music in Canada.

To our regret, several of our dear, active members are ailing, and we dedicate a special spot to them.

Kremenets in pictures has been sent to us by our member Avrasha Argaman (Buts). Who does not remember those places? We regard them with great pleasure and nostalgia, and we enjoy their fine presentation.

This time, too, we do not present all the material in both languages so that the booklet will not be too thick. Members who have difficulty with one of the languages should try to read everything. We think that such an effort is worthwhile.

And finally: This new booklet costs 3 Israeli pounds rather than 2. We have no alternative. Everything is more expensive, and we are running a deficit.

We beg you, members, send what you owe, and don't wait until tomorrow. Send through any bank, including the Bank HaDoar, to our account 52273 in Bank HaPoalim in Tel Aviv, central branch. You can also send a check from any bank made out to Organization of Kremenets Emigrants.

And for the approaching Chanukah holiday, we wish you a bright, joyous holiday.

–The Editors

[Page 27]

A nice, warm Jewish home, a family, a mother, a father, sisters, brothers, a fine Jewish city with a nice synagogue and good citizens, with eager young people, an intellectual Jewish population, with institutions and important rabbis.

All of it was destroyed in a moment, burned, dispersed, trampled, and obliterated.

Can one forget those murderers who destroyed everything?

No! A thousand times no! Hatred and curses should be directed toward them from generation to generation. We should never forget the misfortune that they brought upon us.

June 22, 1941. A fine morning. A Sunday. All the young men born in 1922 were busy in competitions before going to serve in the Red Army. Those competitions ended on Sunday. Only one was left–swimming. We all gathered and marched to Mlinovtsy while singing for that last swimming competition.

From the river we could see the highway toward the west in the distance. The road was crowded with Russian tanks that had been stationed in Belaya Krinitsa, where the 12th Division had been.

No one understood what was happening. We all thought this was simply maneuvers.

Suddenly a group of bicyclists came to the river, among them Buzi Krivin, of blessed memory.

“What are you all so happy about?” he said. “Haven't you heard that the war has started? The German army has crossed the Russian border, and they've already bombed some cities.”

I don't know if his words made a big impression at that moment. But everyone felt something strange inside. Most of us dressed hurriedly because we wanted to get home quickly to our families and to be in the city.

[Page 28]

When I got home, my father was not there. He had already been mobilized into the military commissariat, where he would go twice a year to work in various districts. The men of the city did not know what to do. Most of them tried to take measures for their families' necessities.

That same night, a messenger came to summon me to the Komsomol [Communist Youth Organization] secretariat on Slovatski Street. I was sent with Yoni Rayz (the youngest of the brothers) to Podlestsy (a village near Kremenets) to guard the pioneer barracks through the night.

The next day we were sent to guard the Dubno city gate.

The headquarters were in Delevay Court, and Reye Shnayder was our commandant. In the meantime, there were rumors in the city that the Germans were getting closer and closer, but no one wanted to believe the Germans could fight such a strong Russia (as we thought) and that the Red Army would retreat–or, more accurately, flee. Every morning, early, I would go to work, and in the evening I would return to Delevay Court.

After a few days (I don't remember how many, three or four), I came back to my spot as I did every evening. But I saw no one there.

Going therefore to the plaza, I saw a strange rush of people, not our people, but types like Cossacks or Uzbekis, also running toward the east.

Suddenly I saw Moshe Shnayder, and he asked what I was doing there. I answered, “I came as I do every day for guard duty.”

“Foolish child,” he said. “Run home quickly. Don't you see everyone running? Reye already ran home a couple of hours ago.”

I ran home quickly and saw that my father was at home (which surprised me). My mother was crying. “Where have you been?” she asked. “Everyone's fleeing. People say that the Germans are already at the mines. Go quickly! People are saying that they're taking all the young men away and killing them.”

At the same time I noticed a large picture of Stalin on the wall that my sister had received as an award at school.

I immediately understood everything, but how could one flee and leave behind a mother, a father, a sister? How could one do it?

But I was urged not to delay. I was pushed out of the house with my brother-in-law, Shmulik Nadel, and his brother, Yolik. With us was my friend Leybel, Sender Fayer's son, and along the way near the ORT school, we picked up Shlome Mulman, and we took off toward the Russian border.

[Page 29]

My God! What went on on that road! All of Kremenets was fleeing, everyone carrying what they could. On the road with us was a mass of Russian troops, so that the refugees had to walk through the fields. At dawn we got on bicycles and began to travel. Then came our first trouble–on his bicycle, Leybel Fayer fell under a military horse and wagon and broke his foot.

What could we do? It was about 10 kilometers to Shumsk. With great trouble and effort we managed to get him to Shumsk, and then with more effort we got him into the hospital. This was thanks to Sonye Ofenhendler, who studied with me at ORT and then worked as a volunteer nurse. We left Leybel at the hospital and got back on the road.

We did not manage to get far before we were arrested and brought to the militia as suspicious characters, because everyone else who was fleeing avoided Shumsk. We had to be there because of Leybel, to get him to the hospital.

In the evening we were released on the condition that we leave town. It was beginning to grow dark. Where should we go? In what direction? What to do? We didn't know where the border was.

We left town and on the road met up with other refugees who were headed back to Kremenets because they had been told that the Germans were forcing them back. We joined them in going back.

About 10 or 12 kilometers before Kremenets were Russian soldiers, who, hearing that we were going back, broke out in laughter: “Be careful–the Germans are in Kremenets.” So we went back toward Shumsk. The road was full of Russian soldiers, who cried out: “Go back to Kremenets–the Germans have been pushed out.” In this fashion we went back and forth.

On the road we encountered many Kremenetsers who were in similar straits, and now everyone headed toward the Russian border. Among them was Yankel Povcher (who had once worked for Frishberg as a clerk). When he saw me, he cried out that my father, mother, and sister had just gone by and were searching for me. My mother had heard that I had been arrested and killed in Shumsk.

[Page 30]

My parents and sisters had just gone by, but already I could not find them.

That same day we crossed the Russian border, not just crossed but ran across, because we were told that we would only be allowed to do so until 10:00. Ach, anyone who saw this “Exodus from Egypt” would never forget it: old people, young people, women, and children–all ran.

That day we reached the first Russian village of Yampol, a small village on the Russian border where my mother was born. My grandfather's house was still there, where my mother's brother lived.

On seeing us, he said that he wouldn't let us leave. His fate would be our fate. But three hours later there was a panic because a Russian officer killed himself. His nerves gave out. All strangers were expelled from Yampol.

We wandered through the night, and in the morning we came to Lakhovtsy, a slightly bigger town about 50 kilometers from Yampol. My mother's oldest sister lived there. She really cried when she saw us, and she, too, said that we should not leave, that she and her family would share our fate.

We cleaned up a bit, ate a little, and lay down, In my sleep I heard someone say, “Who is this?” “This is Velvel and Tsharne's son.” “What's he doing there? Doesn't he know that his mother hanged herself because people said that he had been arrested and shot in Shumsk?”

I opened my eyes and saw Malke Veksler sitting at the table. I cried out, “What did you just say?” but she would say no more and maintained that I had been dreaming. Then I understood that people were denying things to me. When I woke up the next morning, I went out into the street. There were placards on the walls saying that all citizens of western Ukraine had to return to their cities or be arrested. Seeing that everyone was returning and having heard about my mother, we decided to return to Kremenets, but via the village of Dederkaly, because we had relatives there.

That day I arrived with my group at Dederkaly, where I found my family with our relatives.

It was already evening and my father soon had to leave for Kremenets to go to work. We agreed that we would stay the night and travel to Kremenets in the morning, but my mother and my sister would stay with the relatives in Dederkaly.

[Page 31]

We arrived in the city in the evening. Thus the family ended up back in Kremenets, except for my mother in Dederkaly.

The next day I went to work, and the day passed relatively quietly. But that lasted for just one day. The next day, panic again struck the city: people were running around with suitcases. I went into the Komsomol, but I didn't have to ask questions. All the offices looked like there had been a pogrom. People had burned and destroyed documents, maps, books; and on the streets there were conveyances for escape. The Komsomol secretary, Intshanski, told me: “Go away quickly. The Germans are nearby.”

My father decided that first of all we had to go to Dederkaly to my mother, and there we would make further decisions. “You go by bicycle, and I'll follow on foot,” he said.

So we left, I, my brother-in-law Shmuel Nudel, and his brother Yolik. Suddenly a vehicle approached driven by Aharontsik Goldenberg, a Kremenetser, who called out: “Why aren't you fleeing?” We kept on toward Dederkaly, but we couldn't get there.

In about a half an hour, the Germans entered Kremenets while my father was still there, while we were on the way to Dederkaly and my mother and sisters were already there.

On the road, some Russian officers seized our bicycles, and we arrived in Dederkaly on foot that morning.

In vain we waited for our father until late at night. (We didn't yet know that the Germans had taken the city.) We kept reassuring our mother that Father would come soon.

A number of Russian soldiers came, among them some we knew from the city–Yoske Shrayber and others.

In the morning we sat on the bench in front of the house and saw that the gentiles had started to run. Immediately behind them were two German tanks. The village had been captured. Thus we and our relatives, a whole Jewish family, in a village of gentiles under a murderous German regime.

(Life with the murderers is in the second chapter.)

[Page 32]

In 1970, it had been 25 years since I had visited our hometown–Kremenets.

Three months after World War II, I decided to go so I could see for myself who and what remained.

It was August 1945 when I set out. Perhaps I would meet one of our near and dear ones. But to my regret, I was bitterly disappointed.

When I was in Lviv, I learned of a gathering of surviving Jews. There was to be a memorial service in the only remaining synagogue in town. I went there hoping to find someone from Kremenets. In fact, I found Maltse Tshatskes. I learned from him that Betsalel Shvarts had been rescued and was in Lviv, but unfortunately I didn't meet up with him.

In the morning I began to look for ways to get to Kremenets. The road there was quite dangerous, for there were bands of thieves and no regular security.

I managed to get into a truck that was headed for Lutsk via Dubno. As we passed by cities–Zlochow, Brody, Radzivilov–everything was in ruins.

I imagined the scene that awaited me in Kremenets. I got to Dubno, but how to get to Kremenets? The train line was destroyed. The only security lay in a truck of grain that was somewhat empty. I could travel in that truck because I wore a Red Army uniform and had an old revolver in my pocket.

We went by the Smiga Woods and were shot at by bandits. We had to evade them and their shooting. When we got to Belaya Krinitsa, the truck would go no further.

Holding my rusty revolver, I ordered the driver to take me to the electric station because I was a representative of the government. This worked, and he took me there. And from there I continued on foot.

[Page 33]

It was a Friday evening. I heard that the Rubin family had returned and were living with the Baziliyaner. I headed there. I went by the Dubno city gate. It was already dark on the street. There was a deadly silence. Not a soul could be seen. How long it had been since life sprawled through the street and culminated on Friday night, when every family gathered at the Sabbath table. After Sabbath dinner, the young people would go out walking and having fun.

And now–dead silence. No trace remained of anything. In front of me I see the Davitshe hill, a place for walking and enjoying.

Immersed in my thoughts, I slowly went to the Rubin family home.

I would surprise them with my sudden visit. Through the kitchen window I saw their daughters. They rushed around. I knocked quietly at the door, calling out my name. The door opened. They recognized me immediately. Mr. Rubin woke up and celebrated with me. Then we began to relate who had been killed and who had escaped, who was still in the city and who had left. I also ran into Eliezer Barshap (now in Ramla). We each told our story, and there was plenty to tell. We never thought we would meet again after the three difficult years of our experiences.

Early in the morning, I went out to survey the city. I went to see the destruction caused by those wild beasts in the form of men. The city offices remained whole–the fire station, the post office, and others. I came to the spot where the Great Synagogue had stood, but nothing remained. It was hard even to recognize the spot. The surrounding houses were also destroyed. The whole street was in ruins. In the distance, one could see the city hospital. The whole Jewish neighborhood was desolate.

Mountain of the Virgins

[Page 34]

The green market was intact, but empty of Jews. The remaining houses were occupied by Ukrainians.

Dragging myself to the market, I ran into some Ukrainians that I knew. They wondered how I had survived. Don't worry. I told them plenty about our lives–who was a partisan, who was in the army. We would come together there and then, all. I felt that my words didn't really touch them. They all responded–that they were not guilty! But in each one I could see the killers of our brothers. Such nerve. They asked me to intercede for them with the finance inspector–Niunye Kitay–to ease their taxes. I learned from them that Niunye was alive and lived in government housing. A number of Jews were with him.

I leave the market and go to see who is working in the government buildings. To my great amazement, it appears that most of them worked with the Nazis. I make my way to the city leader to see about those employees–who had worked for the Nazis? Is this possible? He told me his theory. First, their help was needed to know who the real criminals were; and second, they were specialists at their work. They could be left there working for most of the day, and isolated here, they were harmless.

I didn't argue with him. It wouldn't help. My heart ached to see how the killers' partners occupied positions in the government whose goal had been to wipe out Nazis.

I left to see the Lyceum, the Orthodox churches, the Catholic church. All remained whole, unchanged. Only Jewish properties were destroyed, leaving no trace.

This wasn't important. In the place where Jewish life had teemed, there was not a living soul. In the distance one can see Mount Bona. This, too, reminded me of the not-too-distant past, when the young people would go there to walk and pass the time.

Thus did my Sabbath in Kremenets end. I was tired and broken by all that I had seen and encountered.

In the morning I visited the cemetery, which had been used for burial. There, too, one saw the destructive hand of the criminals.

[Page 35]

A majority of the tombstones were destroyed. They had been used to build the road, as if Kremenets had lacked for stones. It would seem that the Nazis found stones from grave monuments to be more acceptable.

Together with Eliezer Barshap, I went to the valley, to the spot where they had killed thousands of our sisters and brothers. A horrifying picture met our eyes. The valley was full of human bones, as in the vision of Ezekiel.

We shed bitter tears over the fate of our people who had been punished in this way.

We were overcome by a verse from Tisha B'Av at the thought of the words of our prophet Jeremiah, who marked the destruction with these words: “From my eyes ran springs of water at the great disaster that befell my people.”

There is nothing to do. The living cannot restore the dead to life. Let us at least honor the remnant of those who live and not disgrace them. We collected all the bones that were spread out in the valley, one by one, and covered them with earth, so that they would not be disgraced under the open sky.

This affected us so much that we could never forget it.

After all that I had seen and experienced, I could no longer remain in the city, and I decided to return to Lviv, passing by the towns of Vishnevets, Zbarazh, Tarnopol. Each showed the same picture of destruction and extermination. One cries out in pain:

“Jew, avenge the spilled blood of your servants!”

[Page 36]

Since we started producing Voice of Kremenets Emigrants, we have developed closer contact with our fellow townspeople abroad and in Israel. We receive more and more letters that contain warm expressions of friendship and gratitude. You can see how our dispersed remnant becomes more united as a single family.

Right now there is a pile of letters from the last couple of months in front of me. I look at them again and am amazed. What a precious collection of noble, humane feelings–of love for our old home, of nostalgia for our childhood and youthful years! A bit of holiday feeling in our gray, everyday surroundings.

They are all worthy of publication in Voice of Kremenets Emigrants. Sadly, we cannot print them all because we lack the funds and the space. We will provide excerpts, and more will be published in future issues.

We will begin with a fragment from Duvid Rapaport's letter.

Duvid Rapaport is the secretary of the Kremenets Society in New York. Over the years he has produced a quarterly in which, among other things, he has published poems about Kremenets that are imbued with deep sorrow over the destruction of his old home, along with fervent love for it:

“… It was a Sabbath evening, August 8. I came home weary from work, exhausted and hungry. I took your letter and Voice of Kremenets Emigrants out of my briefcase. Amazingly, I was transformed as if by magic. My fatigue, my hunger, my exhaustion all fled, and I regarded the booklet the way a thirsty wanderer in the desert regards a fresh spring. I could not put the booklet down until I had finished reading it. I was delighted with all of it. Many people contributed as writers and authors, almost no one from Kremenets …”

“… I have previously written that the graphic illustrations of Avraham Argaman are a realistic, artistic rendition of our martyred city. They call forth a nostalgic sorrow for the city of our childhood. I will frame ‘Old Houses near the Lyceum’ and hang it in my parlor.”

[Page 37]

“Many thanks and congratulations to everyone …”

Yours,

Duvid Rapaport, New York
April 22, 1970
Second Day of Passover

Yosef Pak, of blessed memory. We received many letters from Yosef Pak in the years since he immigrated to Israel with his wife. Each of his letters contains pearls of Kremenets folklore. They will brighten up our coming booklets.

His last letter before his unexpected death was more humorous than before. He wrote this under the influence of “The Cold War in Kremenets.” Here are some short excerpts:

“…Received Booklet 6, thank you. Great thanks! What can I say about it? It's well bound, with good holes. The material is quite aesthetic. Does that induce a smile? You should be well! …”

“…You served well the length and breadth. Congratulations!”

“…You led your readers well in the ‘Old Bath’–Yes, from work–right into the bath …”

“… Is there an exit for us from this, since our friend Manus was a visitor to the old bath? Really? Just like Sholem Aleichem! Aleichem Sholem! The greatest number of visitors to the bath were from ‘your people.’ I was a constant visitor. Even in the later years, when I would spend a few hours in Kremenets, if it was a Friday I would go to the bath. My brother Meshulem would sit me there like a lord. And he would treat me like royalty for 4-5 hours. You didn't indicate that there was on bench for sitting, and it was occupied by Noach the Beggar …”

Mordekhay Bar-Mor, of blessed memory. Among the letters are several from Lieutenant Colonel Mordekhay (Motke) Bar-Mor (Bishbeyn). Here is an excerpt from his last letter, written a few weeks before his untimely death.

“Dear Friends,

Through words and pictures, Voice of Kremenets Emigrants brings us a bit of our old home. It reminds us of our warm family. It's a useful source for teaching our children.

[Page 38]

My three children read the booklet and bombard me with questions about my past, my relatives, and about our dear town …”

“I regret that this year I will not be able to take part in the coming memorial for our martyrs because I had an operation and am in a rest home …”

“… My hope to find free time to work with you has not been fulfilled. My service in the army takes all my time. Still, I hope soon to be able to lend my hand to your blessed activities.

Accept my blessings and heartfelt thanks.
Mordekhay Bar-Mor (Bishbeyn)

Morris Medler. Morris Medler, Leyb Studinker's grandson, lives in a distant city in Arizona in America. He sent two warm and interesting letters after our booklet.

Morris Medler left Kremenets in 1914. He went to the Land of Israel, where, with other Kremenetsers, he was overtaken by World War I. He voluntarily enlisted in the English Gallipoli battalion, led by Joseph Trumpeldor.

After the war he went to New York, where he took part in the activities of the Kremenets Society, with aid activities for different organizations in Kremenets.

We offer excerpts from his sincere letter:

“… I received your booklets when I was in the hospital. As I turned the page, I felt them to be a balm to my illness. Your warm attention to everything having to do with the past of our no-longer-existing Jewish Kremenets and the beloved Jews who lived there is very moving. Your energy and industry in memorializing our old home and its martyrs cannot be overestimated. May the One Above give you strength to carry out your desires! …”

Yours,
Morris Medler

Nachman Desser. Engineer Nachman Desser, Yoel Desser's son, has been in America for many years, but his warm feelings for his old home, as is the case for many of our landsmen, have grown stronger over time. Therefore he bears witness, laden with nostalgia, in his letters to us each time he receives an issue of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants.

[Page 39]

Here is a brief excerpt from one of his letters:

“… I spoke today with Mr. Vakman about the meaning of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants for Kremenetsers. Each booklet that a Kremenetser receives calls forth in his heart a storm of nostalgic feelings. It brings memories of our beloved town, of our childhood and youth. One envisions Sheroka Street, the Vidomka, Krestova, Dyevitshi, and the happy holidays there swim in our thoughts. The fully packed, brightly lit synagogues and study halls with their crowds bring tears to the reader's eyes.

Each of us receives daily and periodical publications. We read them with more or less interest, but Voice of Kremenets Emigrants one does not simply read. One lives it…!!”

Mrs. Dvore Gold. Dvore Gold, wife of Leo Gold (in Kremenets, Lazer Pak), wrote to us:

“… Honored landsmen, a thousand thanks for sending us your interesting booklets. Your booklets, with their memories, are important and interesting not only for Kremenetsers but for people like me, non-Kremenetsers but people who entered the family of Kremenetsers. We feel a duty to help you in whatever way we can to continue your sacred labor …”

We wait impatiently for future issues …

We are grateful.

Warmest greetings!

Dvore Gold

Sheli Krementshugski. The letter from Sheli Krementshugski, a new resident of Israel from Leningrad, is interesting. Here is an excerpt:

“… I spent my first Passover in Israel in my sister's kibbutz, Ein HaShofet. This gave me great pleasure after so many years when I didn't know when Passover was. The second pleasure of the holiday was issue 6 of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants …”

Thank you so much for not forgetting me. Please send the booklets in the future.

[Page 40]

Many thanks. Greetings to all our landsmen.

Sheli Krementshugski

My islands of Kremenetsers are sown and spread around the whole world: New York, Tel Aviv, Buenos Aires, and many other cities in the earthly ocean.

Like birds away from home, Kremenetsers flock together, wherever they build their nests in joy and sorrow with brotherly love and comradely affection.

On my visit to Israel in July 1969, on the first evening of my arrival, I was visited in the Acadia Hotel in Herzeliyya by my friend from youth Manus Goldenberg and his dear wife Chane, my beloved cousin Sluve, whom I left in Kremenets when she was a little girl, and her husband Moshe Kohen from Kibbutz Ma'anit. They took me right away to the Levinson Library in Tel Aviv, where a beautiful welcome, a banquet, was prepared for me and for member Desser and his family from Canada. What impressed me most were the bright faces that surrounded me with their warm eyes, which rejoiced with an emigrant from Kremenets as if with a brother who found himself on the forlorn roads of wandering and death.

Readers should excuse my exaggeration: sitting here writing about Kremenetsers in New York and having begun with Kremenetsers in Tel Aviv, I will tell you that I was overcome by my experiences and wonderful reception at my visit to Israel, and by the enthusiasm and friendship of my fellow exiles from Kremenets–one thing I will try to compare about Kremenetsers in New York and in Tel Aviv.

[Page 41]

The Kremenets-Wolyner Benevolent Association–the official American name–has already existed for 55 years. It was founded in 1914, before the outbreak of World War I, as an aid organization and an address for young men and women who had left Castle Garden and entered a strange, cold world alone and forlorn among stony skyscrapers and tubercular sweatshops.

People gathered there, meeting acquaintances and landsmen, getting a roof over their heads and recommendations for jobs. People collected money to send home to their families, helped organizations in Kremenets, and in general conducted tremendous relief activities.

We merited having among us one of the founders, an elder of Kremenets, brother Binyamin Barshap, who was known as Mister Kremenets. He had a fantastic memory, and at meetings he often told us about the society's people and activities, about the birth pangs of the Kremenets organization. I learned from him that in New York there was a Kremenets union that was even older, but it was kept separate and isolated. They met once a year. Our society was more alive and met monthly. Among the active members of our society were Binyamin Barshap's younger brother, the energetic Jack Barshap–vice-president; Chayke and Chayim Taytsher; Velvel and Sheyne Kagan; Betty and Yosef Baytsh; Shmuel and Frida Fuks; Tsviye Gotesman; and Helen and Yakov Vaynberg (a gifted Yiddish writer who wrote touching, sad poems about Kremenets).

One person who devoted her whole life to Kremenets relief was my mother, Chaye Rapaport, of blessed memory. Day and night she slogged around the crowded streets of New York. In rain and snow, in storms, she collected funds to send to needy individuals and organizations. Scores of individuals and families were rescued thanks to her, I among them, along with other members of my family. After World War II she became a mother to the newly arrived refugees from Hitler's Holocaust.

The Kremenets Society was blessed with good professional leadership. Its leader was born in Jerusalem, not Kremenets, Emanuel Bronfeld–he was married to a woman from Kremenets, Manye–he was a community person, a good speaker and organizer. He dedicated his talent to the society for his last decade.

[Page 42]

Hershel Vayner and his American-born wife Fay carried the society on their shoulders; they knew what everyone was doing, knew everyone's circumstances intimately, and their telephone was the nerve center of the group. She was the secretary, and he, the “general manager.” Izi Zalmanovits was a good brother to all. His home was always open to everyone. When he ran a restaurant, he and his wife Klara, peace be upon her, hosted the executive committee meetings with a friendly and welcoming spirit and the best foods. He was the society's treasurer. Yitschak Vakman was our official host. Unofficially he was the Kremenetsers' “ambassador at large” to the world. He traveled everywhere seeking Kremenetsers, helped them in their hour of need, and his address was the door that opened to every call for aid, whether from here or abroad.

In New York he was responsible for the commandment of visiting the ill, and as a religious person he prayed for their well-being. He and the good, well-meaning Izi Zalmanovits were the first to visit me in the hospital when I was ill.

As was the custom in America, the Kremenetsers' activities consisted mostly in providing material aid.

Financially secure, most of the society's funds were invested in Israel bonds; there was an annual assessment for the United Jewish Appeal. And during the Six-Day War, every member donated $25 to Israel. These were the pluses. The minuses were: the organization of Kremenetsers did not focus on including children and grandchildren, as I saw being done in Tel Aviv in the Levinson Library. This was also an affliction of the state, the gulf between the generations or, as we say in English, the “generation gap.” Our heirs have everything to gain and nothing to lose.

We also did not act to activate newcomers after World War II, although among them were intelligent young people who could have taken over the leadership from the “old guard.” While the Kremenetsers in New York devoted most of their energy to relief activities, those in Tel Aviv did broader cultural work that preserved the gloriously rich tradition of spiritual and intellectual creation in Kremenets.

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Recently I happened to be in conversation with an editor of a Yiddish newspaper. He mentioned a score of names of Kremenetsers who worked in and made their name in the wider literary and artistic world. The Tel Aviv Kremenetsers follow that path. The Levinson Library is a monumental work that enriches the history of the Jews in Ukraine and Russia with importance and honor. The periodical Voice of Kremenets Emigrants not only is read appreciatively by those from Kremenets and surrounding towns but is warmly included in the general Jewish press. (We should add a word of praise and thanks for the Vishnevetsers, who buy and read Voice of Kremenets Emigrants with interest and admiration.)

In America, at a time when old landsmanshafts are shrinking, bloodless, and passive, the New York Kremenets Society is fresh and lively. And while we have about 50 members, our meetings are well attended, and we live in brotherhood and friendship, carrying the memory of Kremenets in our spirits and in our hearts.

Voice of Kremenets Emigrants. One of the most important undertakings is the publication of the Voice of Kremenets Emigrants booklets, which began in April 1967 as a onetime project. As time passed, it developed into an ongoing project, and the number of booklets is now seven.

Each booklet has 45-55 pages, and 700 copies are printed. Our members who do the work do it with love and self-sacrifice.

They try to make each new edition richer, better, and more attractive. One of us is a person who is a graphic artist. He provides many remarkable graphics for the booklets.

The responses of readers here and abroad are quite good, even enthusiastic. It appears that non-Kremenetsers, including some scholarly organizations, take a great interest in the booklets.

We intend for other landsmen in other countries to participate in this publication by sending materials, memoirs, and so on.

Our booklets have two purposes: (1) to preserve the memory of our birthplace, Kremenets, by describing the past, memories, places, and events; and (2) to maintain contact with Kremenetsers in different places. We think we have fulfilled these two duties.

[Page 44]

We have two requests of our readers: to send regular payments for the publication and to send information at the appropriate times about family occasions such as marriages, births, and, God forbid, deaths.

The RYB”L Library of Enlightenment literature grows from year to year and includes over a thousand books. A librarian who visits the library weekly has labored to produce a catalog of all the books. But we are not satisfied with the current state of the library. Readers who need this library-–teachers, students–have not yet found their way to it. In the coming year, 5731 (1971), we will try to communicate with scholarly institutions and with the help of the catalog attract appropriate readers.

Contact with Kremenets Landsleit. The Voice of Kremenets Emigrants booklets play an exemplary role. Guests from abroad will be taken by representatives of the organization to the RYB”L Library site, which is filled with the atmosphere of our town–with pictures, representations, books, etc.

Most of the meetings take place in a cordial atmosphere (see the note from Rachel Nadir). Many ideas are brought up, and there are always subjects for conversation. People remember such meetings. Our active landsmen in Argentina and we here were going to hold a worldwide meeting for the remnant of Kremenetsers, but because of unforeseen difficulties, this fine project has not been realized and has been postponed. A lively correspondence between the landsleit and the board was also an important factor in our coming together. Thanks to everyone, those from Kremenets maintain the memory of our city so that it will not be forgotten–at least not in our generation.

And Holocaust Day. The Day of Remembrance for the Holocaust and Heroism, 27 Nisan, is organized by us annually in the RYB”L Library hall as a memorial to Kremenets. Every hour, students come with their teachers, class after class. Some of our members tell them about Kremenets before the destruction and about the chapter of slaughter as related by witnesses. The seminar leaders and the teachers, with their participation in this memorial, have a great effect upon the students.

[Page 45]

The future students honor the people who survived such things. They receive a new understanding of the Jews in exile and their way of life–far different from their own.

Aid activity. It is worth noting that those from Kremenets in Israel do not need material aid, but there are several cases in which people help members to the best of their ability.

Entertainment and meetings occur every year: In Tel Aviv, Chanukah, and in Haifa, Purim. These celebrations have a homey, intimate character and are organized by our members.

The annual memorial. We end this survey as perhaps we should have begun it: the day of perpetuating the memory of our martyrs, from year to year, when thousands of Kremenetsers were murdered, August 14.

The greatest number of attendees bear witness that the memories of our near and dear live in the hearts of the survivors. (See a special list in this booklet and in Booklet 6.)

We often take in “Kremenets” guests from abroad, and each time we are deeply moved by the meeting.

In the first few minutes, it is hard to make close contact after long years of anticipation and forgetting. But gradually, when we are face to face, these people with a common past, a similarly disrupted childhood, become familiar, and it is difficult to find appropriate words to express their overflowing feelings.

And suddenly the words burst forth with childhood memories. People recall names and places from distant times from the environs where they grew up and became adults.

[Page 46]

On one such evening at the end of July 1970, we met in the RYB”L Library with Tsuni Brodski and his wife from America and with the Desser family from Canada.

Ts. Brodski, the son of Shaul Brodski, is the chair of the Kremenetser Congregation. He now lives in New York, and this was his first visit to Israel.

The Desser family is making their third visit to Israel with the choir from Winnipeg (Canada). Max Desser and his wife, Klara, along with his brother, Manus, and his sister, Tunye, all are members of the choir.

From his earliest youth, Max Desser has been involved with choral music. He and his brother Manus sang in the choir at the Great Synagogue.

He brought with him two interesting pictures of the Kremenets choir, one with Cantor Koussevitsky and the other with Cantor Sherman. (One picture appears in this booklet.)

We took this opportunity to discuss well-known Kremenets cantors and Kremenets lovers of cantorial music. At the meeting we also discussed the question of the young generation of Kremenets exiles and how to interest them in the Jewish city's past. In this connection, we recalled Yad Vashem's and the lawyer Gidon Hauzner's action–to have schools, high schools, and other institutions of learning dedicate themselves to teaching about life in Jewish towns and communities in Poland and thus to preserve their names and their martyrs' memories.

It is natural that the Seminar Hakibbutzim, where the RYB”L Library is located in memory of the Kremenets martyrs, should have adopted the Kremenets community. And every year on 27 Nisan, Holocaust Remembrance Day, students meet with Kremenetsers, people recall their memories, and people deliver lectures about the life and destruction of the Kremenets community.

At our meeting, we also discussed internal questions about the organization and the RYB”L Library's situation, which took such effort but which had few readers and visitors.

We spoke approvingly of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants, which unites Kremenetsers from around the world and which should reserve a place in the booklets for items in English and Spanish for the younger generation that understands neither Hebrew nor Yiddish.

Taking part in this discussion were some landsmen who had been invited. Manus Goldenberg led the discussion. As always, he related numerous curiosities about life in Kremenets that he remembered.

[Page 47]

Participants in this open and friendly discussion were Mordekhay Otiker, Yehoshue (Shike) Golberg, Tsvi Bernshteyn, Yitschak Rokhel, Chane Goldenberg, Shmuel (Milik) Taytelman, and others.

Avraham Barshap, of blessed memory. Avraham Barshap, whom we used to call “Avraham'l,” was born and raised in Dubno. In his childhood years he absorbed the atmosphere of Jewish tradition that ruled in his father's house. Binyamin Barshap was a grain merchant who was accepted among Jews and among the peasants with whom he did business.

The storm of war tore Avraham'l from his warm and loving home and sent him wandering deep into Russia. After a couple of months of such wandering, he came to the city of Akhtubinsk, Kazakhstan. There he met his future bride, Masha, and married her.

I encountered Avraham and Masha by accident. In 1946, as I left the train in the town of Glatz [Kodzko] and crossed the station, I suddenly noticed a young man with a woman who was in the last months of pregnancy sitting on a bench. I recognized the young man's face. I approached and realized it was Avraham'l. He recognized me as well. We embraced and both began to cry. I sat next to them and we began to talk. Avraham's first question was “What's going to happen?” Without a home, without parents, in a strange German city, who had been sent to Poland after the war and with a wife in this condition? I felt that this young couple who sat before me needed consolation and aid. I told them: “Don't worry. I live in a little town about an hour away. Wait here until I've taken care of my business here. Then you'll come home with me. I am in good standing with the mayor of the town, and in a couple of days you'll get a furnished apartment, and there's no lack of jobs in town.”

In a few days, they did get an apartment and began to get things in order. Meanwhile, every week Masha was closer to giving birth, and in a month she had their first son.

[Page 48]

Eight days later we brought a mohel from Dzierzoniow, and we had a circumcision according to the laws of Moses and Israel. This was the first circumcision in a German-Polish town after the destruction of Polish Jewry.

Masha and Avraham's ambition was to go to Israel and be united with his sister. After another couple of months in Nowa Ruda, they came to say goodbye to me, and in the morning they took their baby and crossed the border into Czechoslovakia, and from there they went on …

From the moment that Avraham'l arrived in Israel, he took an active role in the efforts of the Organization of Kremenets Emigrants. He was a member of the directorate and took part in the publication of Pinkas Kremenets.

He always fulfilled all the obligations that people laid on him.

Two things were always cherished by Avraham'l: (1) love of Israel was deeply rooted in him, and he would never listen to criticism of the land or its leaders; (2) love of helping others. He considered it lucky when he could help someone else get a better apartment or arrange for a job, or anything else. The point was simply to help.

His home was always open to everyone, and anyone who came was welcomed with a smile and open arms by him and his wife Masha, just as had been the case in his father's house and the homes of all his brothers in Dubno.

He left behind his wife and two sons.

May his name be blessed!

[Page 49]

Manek Katz, of blessed memory (by Yitschak Portnoy). Manek Katz and his family came to Kremenets with the flood of refugees when the Polish army left part of Ukraine according to an agreement with the Soviets.

Manek was born in 1906 in the town of Lyubar, Ukraine. His father, Ben-Tsion Katz, of blessed memory, was known well beyond the borders of his town. As a wealthy middleman in the grain business, he kept an open house in his town, as was the custom for great merchants in Ukraine and Poland. In his first years after coming to us, Ben-Tsion Katz and his son followed this same way of life. His home became known to all of us as a warm and civil place to everyone who came on business or community matters.

The antisemitic economic politics of the Poles that ruined many merchants also affected the Katz family. When Manek began to work, right after the end of middle school, he would collect taxes, write petitions, fill out questionnaires, and so on. With his wonderful visual memory, he knew everyone in town and their way of life.

He ended his military service as an officer. Very few Jewish soldiers (four of five) ended that way. Even before his military service, he was totally dedicated to Jewish sports. The pioneers of Jewish sport in our city in those days were associated with an office for military preparation who in our district provided a number of rifles and an instructor for them.

As a reserve officer, Manek assumed the leadership in military preparation in the Hashmoni sports club and was paid by the army. He was assisted by Avrasha Trakhtenberg. (On page 101 of Pinkas Kremenets, you can see Manek at the Hashmoni division parade.) Manek was married to Niusye Baytler, a nurse. She was the sister of Sioma Baytler, our sports instructor.

Manek found himself in Russia during World War II. There he enlisted in Anders' Army, and with them he arrived in Israel in 1944, as did numerous other members of Anders' Army. He remained there. He settled in Haifa and started a family. His first wife was killed in Kremenets.

In Haifa, Manek joined the Haganah. In the War of Independence he joined the Israeli Defense Forces as an officer. He remained in the army for a time after the war.

[Page 50]

Manek was closely associated with the colony of Kremenetsers in Haifa. When he met with them, he would relate different episodes from there and humorously present popular and folk figures. Always friendly and intimate, he was ever ready to help others.

Manek passed away on May 27, 1970, from a terrible illness. He left behind his wife Rut and son Yosef, who is now in the military (Warrior Pioneer Youth). He left his body to the university for research.

May his memory be blessed!

[Page 51]

Yosef Pak, of blessed memory (by Manus Goldenberg). At the beginning of this July, after a brief illness, one of our eldest Mohicans passed away at age 82. In a letter to us that he wrote a week before his death, he wrote: “I received your letter in the hospital and I wish you all the best. My condition prevents me from writing more. I greet all Kremenetsers and hope that we will see each other again.”

This hope, sadly, could not be realized. This letter ended the wonderful series of Pak's letters to us over several years. Although the letters he wrote six or seven months ago contain the same humor and folklore as earlier ones, one feels intimations of his approaching end. In one we read, “You can see how white my letter is, as though it is unbaked. What can I do? It shows that I am coming near to those live in the dust …” And in another letter, in which he beautifully describes a chapter of life in Kremenets, he concludes: “Oy, my Kremenets, my heart hurts for you! Now that I am on the margins, so many memories awaken in me, I wish that I could get at least some of them down on paper …”

Yosef and his second wife, Chaye, came to Israel in 1958. His first wife and their only son were killed. Pak alone escaped from Lutsk, where he lived for over 20 years, just managing to get away from the Germans.

He suffered many woes and afflictions until he dragged himself into Chkalovsk. There he was mobilized in the hinterland service.

He met his second wife in Kiev, shortly after the war's end. There in Kiev, Pak managed a flower-growing business. His workplace was near Babi Yar. This disturbed his peace and, in a greater sense, spurred him to leave Russia.

At our yearly memorial service a year ago, in the middle of my eulogy, I noticed a stranger, an elderly man, who cried bitterly. When I met with him right after the service, it appeared, to both of our joy, that there before me sat my former Russian tutor, Yosef Pak, who had been so well known in Kremenets. He had prepared me and my brother, along with our friend Gorinshteyn, for the entrance examination to the Jewish School of Commerce, his alma mater, which he loved dearly.

This was a few years before the outbreak of World War I, when life in the city flowed like a calm, warm stream. Pak then, along with other idealistic young people, undertook to spread education among the working masses of Kremenets.

[Page 52]

Pak left Kremenets on the eve of World War I. He lived for a long while in Odessa. There he met Mendele, Bialik, and other major figures who helped him with private lessons.

A short while after immigrating to Israel, the Paks took a position in the Malban nursing home, where they both saw to the needs of that community.

Pak served as gabbai in the Malban synagogue, as well as prayer leader and Torah reader. On religious and national holidays, he would instruct the residents about the day's significance.

Yosef loved Israel, as he showed in his letters. In one of them he wrote: “… The killers of our people stole the gentle feelings of a grandfather from me, but here I have many, very many, grandchildren. All the soldiers of the Israel Defense Force are my dear grandchildren. Day and night I pray to God on their behalf.”

His co-workers and friends from Malban speak of him with great respect and sympathy. He is buried in Rishon Letsion. His co-workers and residents of Malban took part in the funeral, as did many residents of Rishon Letsion, where he was greatly respected.

Great is the loss for his good and true wife, as it is for us Kremenetsers, who benefited from his deep spring of memories.

May his memory be blessed.

[Page 53]

Arye (Leyb) Kotliar, of blessed memory (by Manus Goldenberg). Our comrade and friend who was closely bound to us by common experiences over many years has left us forever. Of all of us, he was the one who perceived the first foggy intimations of the destruction of Kremenets, and experienced the first shocks along with us.

On May 1 of this year, late at night, our friend Arye (Leyb) Kotliar died of a heart attack at age 64. A few days earlier, he and Brayne, his wife, returned happily from Haifa, where they spent several days in the company of Kremenetsers.

As a child, Arye began learning with the tailor Mordekhay Hirsh Nudel, well known in Kremenets. After several years, he mastered his craft and even surpassed his teacher. In Kremenets, Arye was active in Zionist circles for building up the Land of Israel.

In 1936, Arye and Brayne immigrated to Israel. As a first-class craftsman, Kotliar established himself quickly and gained a steady clientele.

Until seven years ago, the Kotliars' home in central Tel Aviv consisted of one room with shared facilities. His workroom was there, too. And this small apartment for years served as a reception center for immigrants from Kremenets. Without ceremony or announcement, people brought candies, flowers, etc. to the Kotliars just as they did in Kremenets. People were welcomed there with open arms. Brayne generously served home-baked goods and, when people were in need, other necessities. For a Kremenetser who came from afar, there was a soft bed. A new immigrant or a tourist could get advice and detailed information about Kremenetsers in Israel.

Often Kotliar would set aside his work in the middle of the day to help a Kremenetser who needed work or support. He did the same when it was necessary to lay a Kremenetser to rest.

Arye was among the founders of the Kremenetser organization and for many years was a member of the governing board. His common sense often influenced our decisions. He was one of the few among us who knew everyone in Israel and abroad, and he was always prepared with news about each.

[Page 54]

Kotliar also donated much time to the craftsmen's union in Tel Aviv and was a favorite of the local craftsmen.

Arye left behind his wife, Brayne, and a married son, Gidon, and a grandchild.

May his memory be blessed.

The annual memorial for the martyrs of Kremenets took place, as it does every year, in the Seminar Hakibbutzim in Tel Aviv, on August 16, 1970, in the presence of over 200 gathered exiles from Kremenets and their children from every corner of the country.

Attendees gathered a couple of hours earlier for intimate meetings and conversations and visits to the RYB”L Library, which every year has something new. Special notice was given too pictures of the Kremenets choir from the Great Synagogue. Several people have identified themselves as “musicians”–singers in the choir.

The meeting was conducted in a hearty and friendly atmosphere.

The gathering was led by Manus Goldenberg, who, as always, with much love and sadness told about the suffering and destruction of our dear ones and families–and his words were heard with great attention.

Member Yitschak Portnoy eulogized those who passed away in the previous and current years: (1) Yitschak Eydelman-Tamir; (2) Mordekhay Bishbeyn-Bar-Mor; (3) Miryam Goltsberg-Grinberg; (4) Miryam Vayntraub-Kligman; (5) Chayim Topaz (husband of Fanye Bitker); (6) Melekh (Monik) Katz; (7) Leyb Kotliar; and (8) Velye Shumski.

The cantor chanted “God, Full of Compassion” and Kaddish, accompanied by appropriate music.

Member Yitschak Rokhel gave an overview of the organization's activities (see a separate article).

[Page 55]

At the end of the gathering, everyone gave a hearty welcome to new immigrants

Sheli Krementshugski and Ruven Nelik (from Vyshgorodok), who arrived from the Soviet Union, and also a guest from America, Cantor Yitschak Bespoyasnik.

The memorial was prepared and organized by member Shmuel Taytelman.

Roster of the Board of Kremenets Emigrants. At the request of several members, we are providing a roster of the board in alphabetical order:

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

The members of the board meet every two to four weeks. They are usually led by Yitschak Rokhel, who is especially devoted to the RYB”L Library and edits the periodical Voice of Kremenets Emigrants in Hebrew; the Yiddish section is edited by Manus Goldenberg, who is in constant written contact with Kremenetsers abroad; Shmuel Taytelman and Yehoshue Golberg handle financial and bookkeeping matters as well as other necessities.

Member Argaman-Buts focuses on the conference and on the graphic aspects of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants and helps with the library.

Member Berenshteyn takes care of office matters for the organization. In addition, members of the board and others take care of various other jobs for the organization.

On the Road to Tsahal (Memoirs of Yosef Avidar (Rokhel). Several months ago, the publishing house Ma'arkot issued the book by General Yosef Avidar-Rokhel: On the Road to Tsahal, memoirs of his activities in the Haganah from the beginning until the establishment of the Israel Defense Force.

[Page 56]

The book received very good reviews in the press as well as at banquets in his honor when he discussed his memories. This is especially for the young “who knew not Joseph” and who do not know the beginning of our defense forces. The book is full of interesting historical facts. It is written in a light style and is captivating.

We greet our dear landsman, Yosef Avidar, on the publication of his memoirs, and we wish him much success.

Ruven Nelik was born in Vyshgorodok and lived for some years in Kremenets. He was a correspondent for Kremenitser Shtime [a newspaper]. He was a photographer, but in Russia he worked for the post office. After much travel, he and his wife came to Israel six months ago and live in Kiryat Yam (Haifa). Our members in Haifa received him with customary warmth and helped him in his first steps in Israel. He is looking for a permanent job. We greet him and wish him an easy transition in his proper home.

Friends of RYB”L Library in Detroit. Thanks to the initiative of Velvel Shnayder, a chapter of Friends of the RYB”L Library has been established in Detroit, headed by the Hebrew writer Bernard Isaacs. (Among his works: “Amos, Seller of Oranges”). Over time, this group has sent us many important books. Now we have received a Hebrew printing machine from them as a present. We will use it for our needs. But they were not yet satisfied, so they sent a sum to cover the transport cost. And finally they sent a package of 20 books.

This is clearly a relationship to remember, and we send them our deepest appreciation.

Yahrzeit of Lt. Col. Mordekhay Bar-Mor (Bishbeyn). This took place in the military cemetery in Kiryat Shaul in the presence of his relatives, friends, and military comrades.

Later in the military barracks where he served, two stipends for middle-school students were distributed. The stipends came from a fund established by his friends and comrades, with the participation of our organization.

[Page 57]

Several of his comrades remembered him and described his characteristics as an outstanding person and commander, who also raised his children and cultivated his spirit.

Memorial Service in New York (excerpt from a personal letter)

“… On Sunday, September 13, we held the 27th annual memorial service for the martyrs of Kremenets. This was a memorable gathering of many people, with the famous cantor, our landsman, Matityahu Radzivilover, fine speakers, and recitations by Helen Vaynberg and Zina Zaydel. Six survivors lit six memorial candles. After the service, Vakman made an appeal for the few of our people in Kremenets, and they collected $108 to send to them.

What is new with Kremenetsers? How did people like Booklet 7 of Voice of Kremenets Emigrants? Greetings to everyone in our organization.

Until we meet again,
Your Duvid

[Page 58]

We present here an ongoing list of monies that we have received recently from our foreign landsmanshaftn and from individuals. A portion of the money is for designated purposes. An earlier list is in Booklet 6.

For Voice of Kremenets Emigrants
7/10/70	New York Landsmanshaft, via D. Rapaport	$ 30
7/23/70	Tsunye Brodski, NY	20
9/7/70	Dr. Mark Katz, NY	50
9/20/70	Binyamin Barshap, NY	25
9/20/70	Yitschak Vakman, NY	25
10/14/70	Hilda Shvartsapel, NY	50
For Necessities
9/20/70	Yitschak Vakman, NY	25
9/20/70	Binyamin Barshap, NY	25
For the Levinson Library and Other Organizational Duties
9/16/70	Argentine Landsmanshaft	500
7/10/70	Bernard Isaacs, Detroit	50
7/23/70	Yitschak Bezpoyasnik, NY	20
7/23/70	Desser Family of Winnipeg, Canada (Max, Manus, Tunye)	60
11/3/70	Dr. Zev Chasid, Berkeley, California	25
	Total	$905

Hearty thanks to our friends and sponsors.

[Page 59]

On June 28, 1970, there was, in accordance with the custom of past years, a solemn gathering of Kremenetsers in Buenos Aires to mark the third anniversary of the Six-Day War.

The chair, Chayim Mordish, in his opening talk, remembered the fallen children of Kremenetsers, Avraham Tsizin, of blessed memory, and Yael Yaron-Krementshugski, of blessed memory. The secretary of the association, Mordekhay Katz, presided with solemnity. Tsipe Katz gave a talk about the significance of the Six-Day War.

There was a rich artistic aspect in which the reciter, Mr. Ludiavski, took part.

Attendees collected a significant sum of money for the Kremenetser organization in Israel.

A new board was chosen: President–Chayim Mordish; Vice presidents–Yidel Katkavnik, Itsik Shpak, and Yisrael Roykh; Secretary–Mordekhay Katz; Asst.–Chayim Nudel; Recording Secretary-Tzipe Katz; Treasurer–Velvel Oks; Asst.–Yashe Fishman; Representatives–Chayim Fayer, Avraham Yergis, Moshe Peker, Pinye Burbil, Yisrael Laybel, and Nute Kiperman. Wives of board members comprise the Women's Committee.

The Board and the Women's Committee of the Landsleit Union of Kremenetsers in Argentina heartily congratulate these members.

Vice-President–Idel and Gitel Katkavnik–on the bar mitzvah celebration of their beloved grandson Avraham–the successful son of Natalia and Feyge Kiselevski.

Asst. Secretary–Chayim and Feyge Nudel on the marriage of their beloved son Elchanan to Miss Tove Markovski.

Treasurer–Velvel and Branye Oks–on the marriage of their beloved daughter Shoshana to Ruven Stohrer.

[Page 60]

Committee Member–Nute and Chayke Kiperman on the marriage of their dear daughter Sara to Chayim Nudel.

We wish all of you much happiness from your children in your homes.

We heartily congratulate our brother and brother-in law Shalom Mordish on the marriage of his beloved daughter Carmela (in Israel) and our brother and brother-in-law Avraham on the birth of two grandchildren (in Israel)–we wish you much happiness, luck, and joy and true peace.–Chayim and Shoshana Mordish and children

The Board and the Women's Committee of the Kremenetser Landsleit in Argentina express condolences to these families:

Shikhman-Royt: On the loss of their sister-in-law and family member Manye Kaner, nee Royt, peace be upon her.

Yudel Katkavnik: On the loss of his beloved brother Moshe, peace be upon him.

Pinye Burbil: On the loss of his beloved brother Yosel, peace be upon him (New York)

Bume Berenshteyn and the Reznik, Garber, and Berenshteyn-Kodlash families–on the loss of their dear sister, cousin, and niece Chaykele Berenshteyn, nee Gotlib, peace be upon her.

May you be relieved of sorrow!

[Page 61]

Steering Committee of the Union of Kremenets Landsleit in Buenos Aires, Argentina Seated, left to right: Idel Katkavnik, Chayim Mordish, Yisrael Roykh, Mordekhay Katz, Velvel Oks, and Chayim Fayer Standing, left to right: Chayim Nudel, Itsik Shpak, Avraham Yergis, Nute Kiperman, Yasha Fishman, and Moshe Peker. Missing: Pinye Burbil and Yisrael Laybel

Women's Committee of the Landsleit-Union of Kremenets and Vicinity in Buenos Aires Seated, left to right: Manye Fishman, Rivke Roykh, Ester Shpak, Frida Yergis, Gitel Katkavnik, Chayke Kiperman, Branye Oks, Freyde Peker, Tsipe Katz, and Shoshana Mordish Standing: Feyge Nudel and Chane Fayer. Missing: Anita Burbil

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