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[Pages 350-354]
(Chesnyky, Ukraine)
49°23' 24°43'
by Yaakov Palgi, Kiryat-Chaim
Translated by Binyamin Weiner
Seven kilometers from Rohatyn, along the road that leads from Rohatyn to Brzezany, lies the village of Chesnik (Czesniki.)
In the period between the two World Wars, Chesnik was a fairly wealthy Ukrainian village. Many of its inhabitants read the newspapers, and sent their children to high school in Rohatyn, and even to schools of higher learning.
Chesnik did not differ from the rest of the villages in the area. I do not know its history, but I remember the stories the old farmers told about their liberation from serfdom to the landlords (“Pancizne,” in the foreign tongue.) A Jew named Reb Moshe, who lived in the village for many years, achieving wealth and length of days, was active in their emancipation. At the right time, he purchased a large section of forest and grazing-ground for cattle from the landlord, for the sake of the villagers. These grounds were placed under the authority of the village-council, and every village farmer had the right to graze on them. Every winter, the farmer's family would also receive wood for heating. In addition, it was said that the landowner wanted to give this Jew the land for a cheaper price and on better conditions, provided he would not hand it over to the village-council and the farmers. But this simple Jew saw the emancipation and strengthening of the farmers as a noble goal, and did all that was in his power to bring it about.
One heard this story from the mouths of the old villagers, who would gather in the saloon and reminisce about their hard lives during the era of serfdom, and about the emancipation that came at the hands of this Reb Moshe. This same Reb Moshe strove to establish his generations in Chesnik, and there is some truth to the belief that all of the Jews of the village, some 75 families in number, are his descendents.
In those days, it was the accepted practice for rich village Jews to turn to the yeshivas (academies of Jewish learning) in order to find grooms for their daughters. The Jews of Chesnik did likewise, when their daughters reached maturity. After inspecting the Yeshivot, they would bring home a young student, well-formed and steeped in Torah. They displayed him before the elders of the family, tested his strength in Torah, and if all went well[,] they made the match. Reb Chaim Jupiter was one such groom.
The young couple settled in Chesnik. Their house stood beside the main road, on a lovely hill surrounded by a garden, with plum and apple trees. On the other side of the road was an even larger garden, with a fountain in the middle that Reb Chaim Jupiter transformed into a Mikveh (ritual bath.)
During the summer, Jews would throng there every day, to immerse their bodies before shacharis (the Morning Prayer,) and sometimes they would even throng there in the winter.
I remember only a very few of the specifics of this wonderful man's life.
After World War One, between 70 and 75 Jewish families lived in Chesnik, and these were preoccupied with the care of their children. On Shabbos (Sabbath,) the parents would gather up their “jewels,” and take them to uncle Reb Chaim “tsum farheren,” that is, to have the Torah knowledge of their children tested. And there were those who feared these examinations, though it was in truth a baseless fear, as Reb Chaim was a dear man who loved to joke with the children and amuse them.
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| Left: Miriam and Reuven Schafel, Right: Buntsie Schafel and his wife Leah Middle top: Moni Jupiter, Yitka Schafel, Middle bottom: The Kreizler children |
After the death of the Jew Metsniki, the Torah scroll that he had possessed was bequeathed, not to his sons, but to his son-in-law, the learned Reb Chaim, who was great in his knowledge of Torah, and in whose home all of the males of the family used to pray every Shabbos evening and day. I still remember how all of the men would wait in the prayer room for Reb Chaim to emerge from his little room, where he sat learning all night. Sometimes we would wait long hours, when we were very hungry, and when the door opened and his figure appeared we rejoiced, and were ready to begin praying. But he, following his own schedule, would cross the room and descend to the garden, were he would enter the Mikveh and prepare to immerse himself. We, the little children, would run after him, in order to see what he was doing down there. Once in the winter, in the middle of a great frost, we all caught fever watching how he stripped off his clothes beside the fountain and jumped into the water, immersed himself, and emerged. And only after he had dressed and returned to the house of prayer did the service begin. After the “Shmoneh-Esreh” was finished, and everyone had already dispersed, he remained standing as straight as a pillar, without moving from his place. Once I was bold and asked my father why uncle remained standing for so long, when all the rest skip through their prayers. My father, of blessed memory, answered that my uncle was communing with the Master-of-the-Universe.
Reb Chaim was good of heart, clever, and learned. In his last years he swore off meat entirely. He moved to Rohatyn, where he dwelled with Rabbi Eliezer, and studied day and night. It was pleasant to visit him, and discuss the issues of the day. He was well versed in matters of state, and he showed an understanding of Aliyah (immigration to Israel) and the building of the State of Israel.
Before I made Aliyah to Israel, I went to take my leave of him. He asked me to come to the Beis-Medresh (house of prayer and study) of Our Master and Teacher Rabbi Eliezer Langer, and he set aside time for me during Shaleshudes (the traditional third meal eaten on Shabbos.) He brought me in to see Rabbi Eliezer, and there I received my uncle's blessing that I be a “good Jew.” He explained to Rabbi Eliezer that I was going to the Land of Israel. I felt that my uncle was proud of this.
The life of this dear Jew ended at upwards of ninety years, under very tragic circumstances. He was lying on his bed, wrapped in his talis and tfillin (prayer shawls and phylacteries.) A German Nazi entered the room, saw him, and so his worthy soul departed. May his memory be blessed.
On the other end of the village which was built in a triangle stood two fine houses,, their metal roofs gleaming (the farmers' houses were covered with roofs of straw.) These houses were seen from afar by those traveling the road from Rohatyn, and in times of war, soldiers, or simply bandits, would come straight to them. Two brothers lived in these houses, sons of the Jew Metsniki. The elder was Reb Yitschok, and the younger Reb Chaim Schafel. Both of them were blessed with sons and daughters. They were landowners and also established merchants. The elder, Reb Yitschok, worked most of his time in the field—a real farmer. He was not really steeped in Torah like his brother-in-law, Reb Chaim Jupiter, but he had a Jewish heart, and was a straight and simple God-fearing man.
Opposite the house of Reb Yitschok lived his younger brother, Reb Chaim. All his life, Reb Chaim was involved in the communal matters of the village. He was richer than his brother, his fields bigger, and his business dealings greater. He was very active in the elections for the village-council. In his old age, when he was sick and could no longer stand as a candidate for the village council, he appealed to his son Reb Michoel to run, so that the reigns of government might be kept within the family. But at that time the Jews were no longer interested in mixing with village matters, an attitude shared by Reb Michoel. Anti-Semitism was already making its mark.
It happened that the village-council infringed on the rights of one of his sons, refusing to permit him to chop firewood from the shared village forest, as was his right according to the regulations. Reb Chaim Schafel summoned the village “voyt” (headman,) and did not speak to him at length, but only struck his staff against the floor and asked that the matter be righted—and the matter was righted. These were the three Jewish elders of the village of Chesnik.
During World War One, the village passed from hand to hand. When the Ukrainians left and the Poles came, we were of the opinion that the days of the Messiah had come, and at last we could live in quiet. But one Shabbos evening, two Polish soldiers appeared at the house of Reb Yitschok, and stole absolutely everything, including the challas (ritual breads) for Shabbos. Reb Yitschok approached the thieves, and asked them to return one of the challas, so that he might bless it during the Shabbos evening meal. One soldier took out his dagger and stabbed Reb Yitschok to death. Reb Yitschok still managed to get outside. He sank to the earth, and his pure soul departed. May his memory be blessed.
But this was nothing to the suffering we suffered at the hands of the Ukrainians. Our family lived on the other end of the village, by the house of the landowner Milinski. We had neighbors, who, for a good reward, let us know that “Tomorrow the Cossacks will certainly ride through the village,” and we attempted to flee to the forest. As they were late in informing us, we were unable to escape. We ran to our near neighbors, to our “close friends” as it were, and begged them to hide us in their bunkers. They refused, and we continued to run and to entreat, until one had mercy on us, and gave us cover for the night. The next morning, our grandfather, Reb Moishe Teichman, left the bunker, wrapped himself in his Talis, went among the ditches, and began praying. A Ukrainian soldier appeared, and when he saw my grandfather, Reb Moishe Taichman, of blessed memory, with his white beard, he took his sickle in hand, intending to slaughter my grandfather. We heard everything, and, woefully, our neighbor would not permit my mother to go out and attempt to save her father. To our joy, and angel appeared, in the form of the same gentile who had given us cover in his bunker, and had protected us throughout the night. He promised the soldier a sufficient bribe and so saved my grandfather's life.
Another time, a Ukrainian soldier from a neighboring village, named Hertz came to us. Even though my father knew him and his family, he took everything away from our house on horse drawn wagons, with the help of a second soldier, then locked the doors, and began searching for silver and gold. We were forced to disrobe, and we stood for hours with our hands raised, as they continued to empty the house. When he had finished his work, he informed us that he was going outside to throw a grenade that was in his possession into the little room where we were gathered. It is impossible to describe the wailing and the crying. My grandfather, Reb Moishele, approached the goy and asked that he permit us to recite the “Vidui” (the traditional deathbed prayer.) The goy assented, so we sat there, pressed together against the table, my grandfather, my father, and my uncle Reb Avromtsi, and we began to pray with a broken heart, and how we children trembled with fear, and cried and wailed. Suddenly my mother's sister Rivtsi (then 17 or 18 years-old) went to the window, opened it, and jumped out, and we, all of the little ones, jumped out after her and began to run through the fields to the forest, and from their to our gentile, Tsimbl, who had built the bunker for us. We knew nothing of the fate of those who remained.
The soldier saw us running, and thought we were running to the officer who lived in the landowner's house, and made off hurriedly with all of the good he had plundered. That night the whole family arrived at the bunker of the righteous gentile, Tsimbl.
After World War One, the situation of the Chesnik Jews deteriorated. Absence of livelihood, persecution at the hands of the Ukrainian populace, a general boycott, and a lack of opportunity all lead the young generation to look toward the road. Some sought their livelihood in other places, primarily Rohatyn, some immigrated to the lands of North and South America, and others found for themselves the road to Communism. We suffered much, but we believed that the days of our redemption would come. There were others, younger still, who stuck to the path of Zionism, to the ideal of making Aliyah as pioneers. One of them managed to triumph over the difficulties that stood in his way, over the pressure of his family, and immigrated to Israel, to participate in the building of the homeland.
He was the only one who managed to come to Israel prior to the Shoah. Two brothers, grandsons of Chaim Jupiter, of blessed memory, served during the war in the Red Army, and so were saved.
This article is consecrated to the memory of my dear parents, and all of my family that suffered and fell at the hands of the Nazi oppressors.
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Rogatin (Rohatyn), Ukraine
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