« Previous Page Table of Contents Next Page »

[Page 71]

Part Two

 

My Father, The Rabbi Gaon R' Joseph Rudnick זצ”ל

By Abraham Abir (Rudnick)

 

Bel112a.jpg g
 
Bel112b.jpg
The Rabbi Gaon R' Joseph Rudnick and His Wife

 

The Family of Rabbi Gaon Rabbi Joseph Rudnick

 

Facsimile of the obituary for Rabbi Joseph Rudnick that appeared in the Vilna Orthodox Jewish paper ‘Dos Vort,’ May 26, 1933. (1 Sivan 5693, Rosh Hodesh)

 

 

Two pictures taken on the ‘Market’ in Belica (1930) during the visit of the daughter of the Rabbi R' Joseph Rudnick, Mrs. Sarah Ram, who came as a citizen of the Land of Israel to visit the shtetl

 

The life and history of my father are precious and close to my heart more than my own soul, and this endeavor has enabled me to make their essence visible in writing, according to how these things were etched into my memory, and from what I heard tell by others.

While still in early childhood, my father stood out for his talent and intelligence, his good nature and his lively and faithful heart, and everyone forecast great and wonderful things for him. When he grew up, he was educated at the Yeshiva of Volozhin (he learned at the same table with the young Chaim Nachman Bialik), and afterwards continued to be educated at the ‘Kollel’ in Kovno, and was given ordination, with the license to direct, by the Gaonim – R' Shlomo HaKohen זצ”ל of Vilna, Our Teacher, the Rabbi Zvi-Hirsch Rabinowitz זצ”ל, the Bet-Din Senior of Kovno, and the Gaon, R' Moshe Donichevsky, the Bet-Din Senior of Slobodka.

The father-in-law of my father זצ”ל (my grandfather) was the Rabbi Gaon Abraham Avli, the Bet-Din Senior of Dvorchany, author of the commentary on the Mishna, ‘Ahavat Eytan’ that was incorporated into the printed edition of the Mishna by ‘Ram Publications’ (my grandfather is mentioned in the book, ‘Ohalei-Shem’ dealing with the great Rabbis of Russia).

* * *

My father's first steps into the rabbinate were in Horodok that is near Bialystok – a factory town for the production of woven wool goods – in the home of the local resident rabbi, R' Nissan Brody זצ”ל, a famous rabbi and a principal activist on behalf of Hovevei Tzion. He was greatly influenced by him in the way he conducted rabbinical affairs.

My father-in-law, Rabbi Shmuel Avinoam (Zuckerman), who lived in Horodok at the time, tells about

[Page 72]

him from his memories: “In those days, the Rabbi Gaon R' Nissan Brody took sick with a very severe and long-lasting illness, before he was sent out of the country for treatment by the doctors – and he invited the young bachelor rabbi R' Joseph Rudnick, a man who stood out for his generous qualities and good deeds, to conduct the rabbinical affairs in his absence. In a very short time, R' Joseph managed to endear himself to all the members of the city, to earn their loyalty, whether they were rigorously observant or freethinking, rich, or poor. We, the youth among the Zionists, organized a Talmud study group on the building of the Zionist Committee, and R' Joseph volunteered to lecture us. His lessons were interesting, to the point that in a short time, the number of listeners grew large enough so that even the large hall was not adequate to hold the entirety of those wanting to participate, and many would stand and listen through the open windows. This is because his explanations were easy to grasp, full of substance, and easy to understand, and in those places where they were appropriate, they were clothed in parables and examples drawn from the day-to-day lives in our own times.”

“ These lessons made a unique impression of its kind on myself and my comrades, who from that time on, began to get seriously interested in the study of the Gemara, and left an indelible impression on their soul and character. I will never forget the looks of the many of those who listened to his explanations, and their joy at they found in the enlightenment in the Talmud, which they had for years already forgotten, and if they remembered anything, it was somewhat dray and tasteless, and were now shown some taste and meaning in these words, and could be likened to someone stumbling on a treasure chest, and were quick to remark so on their feelings in this regard.”

“ When R' Nissan זצ”ל passed away, many in the town demanded that R' Joseph be selected as the Rabbi, but R' Joseph himself was nominated by those who proposed to find a match for the older daughter of R' Nissan זצ”ל, who would be a bachelor, ordained rabbi, and would be worthy of the exalted position of rabbi in our shtetl, and with this, the question of the recently orphaned family was also resolved, and so it was done.”

The connection between the family of R' Nissan and my father's family continued afterwards, after my father left Horodok. Friendly relationships continued for many years between them – between the family of R' Nissan, and my father's family, including my father's brother – R' Shlomo Mayerson (who for many years was the administrative leader in Hadera) who brought R' Nissan's daughter and her children to the Holy Land yet in the days of The Mandate, and took an interest in their fate until such time as they grew up and settled in the Land of Israel.

* * *

At the end of his tenure in Horodok, my father received an appointment to the rabbinate in the shtetl of Belica, and it was here that his talent and understanding of how to direct community affairs was revealed. Under the difficult conditions of the ‘Pale of Settlement’ when matters of making a living were as difficult as the parting of the Red Sea, and life was not secure because of the danger of attack by a predatory and exploiting Christian populace, and the malevolent authorities sought to interdict the initiative of Jews, and oppress them – the position of the rabbi was very difficult indeed. Apart from matters of religion, he would worry about all the other community issues, issues of the shtetl, everyone down on their luck, and all of the institutions that provided support and charity, Bikur Kholim, Linat HaTzedek, Hakhnasat Orkhim, Gemilut Hesed, Hevra Kadisha, Talmud Torah – as similarly caring for those who studied Torah, Shas study groups,

[Page 73]

Eyn Yaakov, Mishna, and the like. It was he who had to make the effort, and was the facilitator, because the balebatim were busy with the concerns of making a living for their families, and only the very few could dedicate time for public service.

And seeing that the rabbi did not have the powers of police or other physical means, it was only through the influence of his character and authority, and in his powers of reasoning and persuasion, that he was able to sway the capable in the town and direct them to the extent possible in addressing community-wide concerns. Among the prominent activists in Belica were: The pharmacist, R' Abraham Kremen, The mill operator R' Shmuel-Joseph Itzkowitz, and many others.

The Rabbi's home was the center of community life, containing a room set aside, called ‘the Bet-Din Shtibl,’ in which, apart from formal legal hearings that were brought for the Rabbi's disposition, all meetings of community groups, committees and commissions took place.

R' Abraham Kremen would relate:

“ When the activists sat down to meet, the Rabbi would sit as their head, and would patiently hear out the ideas and opinions of each and every participant, and everyone awaited the opinion of the Rabbi and his decision. The Rabbi weighed a great deal in his mind, taking into consideration the merits of the issue and the welfare of the community, and afterwards would convey his thoughts, which were accepted by everyone, and afterwards, as the leader, he would implement the decision, even if he were thwarted along the way by difficulties.”

His understanding of life was of great assistance to him, in his many endeavors, that had a variety of nuances to them, and we would run out of space to try and detail them. Despite this, we are compelled to put down a number of stories about these undertakings, as I heard them told by the people of Belica, holocaust survivors, who are found with us today in the Land of Israel, and also from the mouths of those who were not fortunate enough to get here, and perished in the Holocaust.

Dov Grodzinsky[1] (Hadera) tells:

“ In the year 1918 groups of bandits organized themselves, who would hide in the surrounding villages, to rob passers by, and also to assault the smaller towns, among them Belica. Our Rabbi was active in organizing defense, with an unusual amount of dedication – and like the Patriarch Jacob, in his time, he relied on three means: buying off the predators, prayer, and battle. However, out of recognition that our inferior strength in Belica could not stand up to the many strong and armed bandit groups, he decided to personally go out alone and meet the bandits, to speak with them, and ask them to spare the lives of the townspeople. The people who stood with him tried to discourage him from doing this dangerous thing, but he did not

[Page 74]

consent to change his mind under any circumstances, and turned to the gate, but his neighbor Gitt'eh ran to the gate, and stoutly stood in his way, not permitting him to pass, and in this way saved his life.”

And this was not the only time he took his life into his own hands, in order to save the lives of those in his town, both individuals and groups. With is force of personality and character, he obtained the release of Jews who were captives of soldiers who stood ready to execute them.

R' Joseph Baranchik tells:

“ At a time, when there was no flour for the baking of matzoh, our Rabbi ז”ל traveled with other activists to the city of Grodno (a distance of about 100 km) along faulty roads during the melting of the snow, in a wagon hitched with horses, and returned from there with wagons loaded with flour for matzoh. And how great was the joy of the community, at the prospect of being able to celebrate the Passover according to its proper ritual custom.”

When, occasionally, a sever dispute would erupt (that could not be brought under control even with the power of the police), it was sufficient for the Rabbi of knock once on the table and to announce, “Silence” and immediately silence and calm would ensue, because they loved and respected him.

And in addition, R' Joseph Baranchik tells of his sermons, especially on the eve of Yom Kippur after Kol Nidre, at a time when the entire congregation stood oppressed and pursued and the Rabbi that lived with them , and endured with them during the year, and knows the troubles of each and every individual, encourages them by example and exhortation, and with words of the redemption that is destined to come. As a great believer, he would bolster their hearts with [visions of] the good future, and nourish the souls of his listeners with words of Torah, fables, told in good taste and with a full heart, full of affection for his listeners, and these things would be received in the hearts of his listeners and become etched into their memories.

And so it was with every important event, in general, or specific, the Rabbi knew how to aim and direct his words to the point – because it was the custom in the shtetl to invite the Rabbi to all events, such as a wedding, a Brit Milah, and also by contrast, God Forbid, to an event of loss, and the habit of the residents was to recollect, at every opportunity, the sayings of the Rabbi in every form of conversation or discussion, and this also served as a form of justification of the words of someone trying to justify a position.

In his lessons – whether it was from the books Chayei Adam and Eyn Yaakov for the simple folk, or the Mishna or Shas, or a page of the Gemara for the scholars in the shtetl (who, thank God, were not missing in Belica), there were always many people around the tables.

Among the scholars, I will recall here Rabbi R' Chaim-Leib Buczkowsky (a leather merchant and manufacturer), a very substantial and sharp scholar in Torah, ordained as a Rabbi [himself] who was a loyal friend to my father, very dedicated to him, and accompanied him in all that he undertook (when my father

[Page 75]

left Belica to accept the rabbinical seat in Dieveniskes[2], there was a debate over whether R' Chaim-Leib would take his place in Belica). Among those worthy of recollection here is also R' Shmuel-Joseph Itzkowitz (that I have already mentioned above), the father of Zerakh and Rachel Itzkowitz (Hadera), who studied Torah and Mussar in the great Yeshivas of Navahardok[3] with R' Joseph Zundl זצ”ל and was one of his choice students.

R' Shmuel-Joseph Itzkowitz, as a young man, was a great scholar, and for those times, also possessed very modern outlooks, and was a community activist that was dedicated and loyal, knowing how to deal with issues by applying common sense, of good temper, and he knew how to achieve compromise in a peaceful way, and because of this, he was always a help to my father. And the friendship between them was a great one, and passed to their children in great measure, to the point that they felt closer to one another than relatives do. The flour mill of R' Sh. Y. Itzkowitz was run in partnership with R' Yehoshua Jasinowsky (the father of Menachem Jasinowsky, one of the workers at the electric company), and he, too, was a loyal friend to my father.

I recall, when we were already in Dieveniskes, we received an honored guest in our home, a teller of parables (– our house was always wide open to every guest and needy person; my mother, the Rebbetzin, who was a great righteous person in her own right, would receive every guest that my father brought from the synagogue with great courtesy, and if there were not enough beds, they would take the doors off their hinges, and use them for the children of the house, and turn over their beds for the use of the guests). But this guest came to Dieveniskes when my father was already fatally ill, and he did not have the strength to deal with hi, and consequently, he complained to me, and said: I cannot receive the guest in accordance with our standing customs of yore – but if R' Shmuel-Joseph of Belica were with me now, he would surely take the guest from me, without me having to tell him, because this is what he would do in order to spare me this burden in my currently stressed condition.

In general, most of the men in Belica were Torah scholars, and possessed of beautiful spirit, and they well knew how to value the character of my father זצ”ל. When my father passed away, the people of Belica came from great distances, and in their many numbers, to his funeral in Dieveniskes, and they remembered to tell that the Shokhet, R' Lejzor (who was a scholar and a righteous man) would always say, that Rabbi R' Joseph Rudnick would approach any ritual question with great expertise, and knew how to analyze the underlying question posed before him with great skill and attention, ruling, in the end, according to the Halakha.

* * *

The education of Jewish children in Torah and proper conduct was the central goal of his life, and he dedicated a great deal of his energy and resources in order to send those with the capacity, to study in the Yeshivas, and for those who were not so capable, he concerned himself with seeing that they learned a trade. R' Sheft'l the Tailor from Belica told, during the funeral, that when his son, Yerakhmiel traveled to study

[Page 76]

in a Yeshiva, the Rabbi went to see him off, and when he extended his hand to say goodbye, the young man felt something hard roll into his hand, and the Rabbi who sensed his puzzlement said to him: ‘Don't worry my precious one, take this money, which will be of assistance to you in the strange land you go to.’

My aunt, the Rebbetzin Rut'l (in the United States) told me, that in giving charity out of his pocket, he would give it without counting, and when he was asked: ‘Rabbi, why do you do this,’ he would answer ‘What do I have to count, only the pauper counts!’

* * *

My father was opposed to the method of casuistry that was the practice in the Yeshivas of Lithuania, where even in the lower Yeshivas, they inculcated the young students with Tosafot and involved arguments, without paying attention to the straightforward literal meaning of the Gemara. In his view, it was necessary to first study the Gemara without the Tosafot, and only afterwards with selected Tosafot that relate to the literal meaning, and only when the student has already filled his belly with many different lines of reasoning from the Shas, is it possible to permit the study of the Gemara with all the Tosafot.

He would say that the answer to the questions of the Tosafot on the first page could be found by the student himself, once he reached the tenth page. As to myself and the friends of my age in Dieveniskes, he did not send to learn at the lower Yeshivas, but rather brought us to the higher Yeshiva in Radun, and there, with the counsel of the overseer, R' Eliezer Kaplan, took as a teacher for each of us, one of the senior students of the Yeshiva, and they taught us each separately, only the Gemara without Tosafot. And indeed, his method of instruction proved to be right with us, because we were able to advance so that after a year of this type of study, I was accepted to the sixth form of study at the well-known Yeshiva in Baranovici, with the Gaon, R' Elchanan Wasserman, whose style of study was also via the literal text, without the twists and turns of casuistry.

My father זצ”ל, supported me generously for all the time that I was in the Yeshiva, and I was not compelled to have to take my meals at the tables of the balebatim, eating each day at a different home of the balebatim, as was the custom then, and similarly, I was not compelled to draw on the Yeshiva treasury, and I did not benefit from the so-called ‘stipend’ (as this form of support for Yeshiva students was called) even at the time when I studied in the higher Yeshiva.

* * *

My father was a faithful shepherd to his flock, and thanks to the spiritual leaders and guides like these, our people were able to survive for so many generations in its long and difficult state of exile. And it goes without saying that he was a good husband to his wife, and a dedicated father to his children.

My mother told me, that he was in the habit of taking out the garbage at night, and bring in pails of water, and even to split the wood for cooking and heating, in order to spare my mother the labor, because we had no household help in our home. Despite this, the entire burden of maintaining the house, and even being concerned about income, all fell on my mother ע”ה, and she knew how to run a Rabbi's home with dignity and grace. Because, apart from her righteousness, and boundless love of Torah, she was a ‘Woman of Valor’ and beautiful, knowing how to overcome all manner of difficulties and was a great helpmeet to my father,

[Page 77]

even in rabbinical matters, to the point that it was said of her that she is the Rebbetzin, not only because her husband was the Rabbi, but in her own right. From the considerable extent of the experiences that she saw, and heard, she knew how to rule on many matters of Halakha, but she was very careful not to say, off the top of her head, how my father might rule, but she would expertly convey details of the issues that were brought into our house, to my father, at those times when my father was away from the house.

My father did not always have the free time to concern himself with his household and children, but for sure, he dedicated special attention to orphans (perhaps because he, personally, was raised as an orphan).

When my sister Bruriah was in The United States (together with her husband, Abraham Aloni), Yaakov Cohen told them that he was orphaned as a child, and that our father looked after him, caring for his education and sustenance, and was quick to bestow guidance and extra affection on him, in order to full the most important gap in his life, and he remembers this, and feels it with all the fiber of his being.

I remember, once on the evening of the Sukkot holiday, an orphan boy came into the synagogue, and was wearing a torn hat. When my father saw this, he called the haberdasher, and asked him to immediately bring a new hat for the child, on his account, and that is what the haberdasher did.

Also, my stepbrother Rabbi R' Aharon, told when eulogizing my father, that for all his days, my father restrained himself from showing any special affection for his sons and daughters that he sired, on the suspicion that this would adversely affect his stepson, for whom at all times, and under all circumstances, he found the time to teach him Torah and proper manners, even if there was not enough time to do this for his own biological children. When my stepbrother came to our house, he was six years old, and tied himself with his entire soul to my father, and he, also, was privileged to take over his rabbinical chair after he [sic: my father] died, fulfilling his appointment with great success, because he followed in the footsteps of our father, and in his experience, after having become renown in his youth among the Rabbis, and was marked for greatness, were it not for The Scourge ימ”ש, that brought him down along with six precious souls of his family (in Ponar, that was in Vilna). The efforts by myself and Rabbi Zwick (his brother-in-law) from Petakh-Tikva, to bring him to the Holy Land were in vain, however, a young sapling did remain from him that lived to be able to fulfill this legacy in peacetime, to make aliyah with his family, because he was a great lover of Zion, and in his last days, R' Kalman Farber related to me, today he is an officer of the Ramla district – he was with him in Vilna, he was saved, and reached the Holy Land – and on his great focus in the study of Torah, and his variegated understanding, I was told a great deal, in sorrow and pain, about his comrade from the Yeshiva of Radun, R' Moshe Levin, separated for long life, the Rabbi of Netanya.

It was not only orphans that my father looked after, but all the families in his community, because one of his sacred duties was to write letters to America, so that they would help their relatives who remained behind in Russia, and there was practically no instance that his requests went unanswered. He would couch his letters in a terse, clear style, so as not to burden those who received and read them, and he would incorporate a lot of emotion and warmth of heart in them. Thanks to the support of relatives, the Jews in the ‘Pale of Settlement’ were able to sustain themselves, and they were able to give an education to their children, and even keep up the community institutions. My father had a robust connection to the activists in America, who sent very substantial sums to the shtetl.

[Page 78]

Our family, as well, was able to survive mainly because of the support we got from our relatives in America, and not from the meager salary that the community gave to the Rabbi. My aunt, Chaya-Henya dedicated herself to this goal, who undertook this endeavor, approaching other relatives to provide support to their ‘relative the Rabbi,’ who was held in esteem and loved by all. My uncle, R' Yaakov send emigration papers to my father several times, and entreated him to come to America, but the concern over the education of the children, and his spiritual inclination, dis not make him desire life in America, and he kept deferring the matter. Because of this, my father yearned to make aliyah for his entire life, and was greatly overjoyed by the privilege of his brother R' Shlomo Mayerson ז”ל, the Head of the Hadera Council, who was privileged to see his daughters make aliyah while he was still alive, and settle themselves in Hadera ( after them, most of the people from Belica that made aliyah went, and settled in Hadera, and it was in this way, that Hadera became a center for Belica émigrés in Israel.).

My father would get upset with those of our townsfolk who had relatives in the United States, in those cases where each of them saw the other as a competitor destined to capture the funds from their common relative. There were instances where one of them would ‘snitch’ on the other, saying that they really were not needy of support, because he has a substantial enough income to support his home. About the same time, an incident occurred that a family relative from a nearby town asked my father to write to a common relative in he United States about his straitened circumstances, and to encourage him to send support for him. My father immediately fulfilled this request by his relative, and immediately wrote to the common relative, in which he described the hard-pressed circumstances of straitened family, with words that came directly from the heart, and entreated him to help. After a short while, an answer was received, containing a thanks to my father for his effort on behalf of the plight of affected party, with a check for [both] my father and the relative. My father used this incident in order to chastise those of mean spirit and explain to them, that it is exactly the opposite: ‘All who ask (pray to) a friend, they shall be answered first.’

* * *

May father expended tremendous effort and a great deal of energy, in his concern for the members of his community in regard to the decrees of the government, whose purpose was to rob the means of sustenance away from the Jews, which centered primarily around the Wednesday weekly market, at which time the village residents would bring their agricultural produce for sale and, who in turn, would buy in the stores and order their necessities in the various manufacturing outlets in the town. And here, the government demanded the relocation of the market outside of the town, under the pretense of a hygienic need, namely to clean the market of dirt and filth, but the real purpose was to curtail and cut off the income to the Jewish storekeepers, because it was anticipated that Christians would open stores outside of the town. My father neither rested nor did he keep still, working and encouraging the town activists to work, even appearing before the authorities to argue his case, that there is a desire to rob the Jews of their means of livelihood. In the end, the authorities agrees to leave the market in its place, and only the livestock market was moved outside of the town, to a location very near to the town.

The authorities also sought to undermine the bakeries, in their demand that bread only be baked in electric bakeries, this at a time when there was no electricity in the town. My father traveled to the Provincial Head and asked for this decree to be annulled, and the Head conveyed his surprise that an intelligent man such as him would oppose a regulation that was for the good of the populace and to help protect their health. To this my father replied: I am located here for tens of years, and I have never once heard of any instance that someone in the town, or its surroundings ever died of eating bread, and because of this remote possibility,

[Page 79]

you want to bring a certain death to tens of people. In the end, the Head was persuaded to set this decree aside, until such time that there would be electricity in the town, and there would be a possibility of installing electric ovens in the bakeries.

And it is of interest to look at a story of a Jewish baker, at the time the communists invaded Poland. At the end of The First World War, the Jewish baker was accused by the communist army, that he had baked bread for sale without permission to bake, and because of this, he stood to receive a death sentence. Despite the fact that my father knew that the communists did not pay attention to Rabbis, for the sake of saving a life, he decided to go and try to persuade them otherwise. They dug in, and questioned him as to how long he knew the accused, and my father replied that he always knew him, as an honest and respected individual, and that this was the first time he had every been accused of a transgression, whose full implications he probably did not even understand, and accordingly, deserves to be forgiven this time.

When the trial was ready, the prosecutor said to my father, that everything that they do, is open to the public, and therefore they would all go outside, where he would give his reply and decision. Outside stood a unit of soldiers. My father with the prosecuting officer stood opposite them, who announced the recording in the formal record of the hearing, and when he finished, he turned to my father and said: ‘From what you have said, it appears that you are a friend of the accused, and there is one sentence for the transgressor and his friends.’ My father wanted to reply, but one soldier from the rank, a Jew, put his hand to his mouth, hinting to him that he should keep still, and in this, he saved his life. When my father would tell about this incident afterwards, in which he explained what he had known in advance, that in the eyes of the communists the Rabbi was seen as a guilty party, he would add and say, that peace is pleasant even to those who are not observant, and it appears that ‘I am a Rabbi also to the communists, because they need a Rabbi more than all of the townsfolk…’

In this connection, they would tell about an incident that took place in the days of the Czar, when they also hated Jews, but they would listen to the religious representatives of the community. In that time, the Patriarch came to visit Belica, and the entire population turned out to receive him, among them the Jews, with the Rabbi at their head, meeting him according to custom – with bread and salt, and he blessed him in Hebrew, with the priestly blessing, and the Patriarch replied to him in fluent Hebrew. This mad a very strong impression on the Christian populace, and the esteem of the Jews rose in their eyes.

My father was also welcome among the gentiles, and their intelligentsia were friends of his, including the Russian ‘Pope’ who was considered his friend. When the Poles captured the area, they confiscated the Russian Orthodox Church, and installed a Roman Catholic clergy, and the ‘Pope’ was driven out, despite the fact that the populace was largely of the Russian Orthodox faith. At that time, the ‘Pope’ came to my father to pour out his heart, and to lament the injustice done to the members of his community, and he cried before him bitterly. My father comforted him, as is the custom, and when he left, my father said: ‘I am astonished at how he learned to complain so well about his bitter fate, and to weep, literally, like a Jewish Rabbi….’

* * *

Despite the fact that Belica was small, there were many troubles in it, and a great deal of involvement, and these issues robbed him of all his time, to the point that the only time he had left for Torah study was in the

[Page 80]

night hours. If, in the dead of night, you were to walk through the streets of town, you would see a light shining in one of the houses, and a sad sing-song melody would be heard, and this was the sitting Rabbi who sat and engaged in Torah study.

Frequently, one could encounter the Rabbi on the ways of the town, going to visit the sick, or to a house where there were orphans. There are no words adequate to describe his love for the members of his community, and their love for him, and the degree to which they held him in esteem. Despite all of his immersion in community matters, he found time to fulfill his mission and participation in additional needs.

The Chafetz Chaim זצ”ל issued a by-law, that every sitting Rabbi should visit three communities for purposes of delivering sermons, and that each and every Jew should donate no less than two dollars a year for the benefit of the Yeshivas. Among those communities that my father visited were the community of Goniadz beside Bialystok, where there was no Rabbi, and when my father finished his last sermon, he was given an offer of the Rabbinical seat and was asked to come to Goniadz. After this, a delegation of the respected people of Gunic came to Belica, in order to convince my father to take the offer of the Rabbinical chair. However, when the townspeople sensed this, they became very angry with them. On one of the Sabbaths, an important emissary arrived from Goniadz, and as it happened, my father was not in town, and on this occasion, the members of the community reneged on offering the visitor an aliyah to the Torah, and as it happened this was a prominent man, and this was the emissary coming to ‘steal’ their Rabbi – and consequently refused to extend him an honor. The guest, who was a learned man, reacted to this in saying: ‘The aliyah to the Torah is not as important as aliyah into the Torah – to study it, and to know it,’ and as a result I forgive you for the slight that you intended for me.

And it was not only for the Yeshivas that my father worked, but he also volunteered for an entire month (in the month of Tishri) to spend time with the Gaon R' Elchanan Wasserman, in the country of Latvia, and did work their for the Yeshiva Ohel Torah in the city of Baranovici (that is where he sent me afterwards, as I have said, to study Torah, because he held the Rabbi's teaching methods in high regard).

* * *

When questions regarding Kashrut arose, it was the custom to come to the house of the Rabbi. And here, on one Friday, as I passed through the market with my father, a woman approached us with a chicken in her hand, and took advantage of the fact that she was able to intercept my father on his way, indicating she had a ‘question.’ ‘You did well’, my father replied, ‘Why should you exert yourself to go on Friday all the way to my house,’ and in the midst of talking, entered a nearby house, he was handed a knife, and he opened up the chicken. He examined it, and gave the ruling that he gave.

* * *

From my childhood on, I loved helping my father build the sukkah that he built himself (he would walk with me to gather the skhakh). The sukkah was large, because during the holiday, the house of the Rabbi was visited to perform the mitzvah of visiting a sukkah, and the entire community would come into the sukkah, to taste a bit of food, and to celebrate after the recitation of Shir HaMa'alot in the synagogue.

* * *

On every Friday, my father would personally go around to inspect the eruvs, in order to assure that no one

[Page 81]

would, God forbid, violate the Sabbath, in the movement of anything from one property to another on the Sabbath. There was a season, when the eruv was torn every Friday, and my father would make the effort to repair it, and they even attempted to turn to the constabulary, because they suspected that the gentiles were doing this to upset the Jews, but in the end it became clear that the police themselves were doing it for their amusement, in order to anger the Jews.

* * *

Israel Zlocowsky (Netanya) would tell:

‘In the year 1919, the Poles came into the town, and at their head was a detachment of cavalry, and they demanded of the Jews that they bring a huge amount of oats, and if it turned out to be insufficient – they will be punished severely. The Rabbi, accompanied by one of the prominent gentiles, went to request a removal of the order, but did manage to reduce the demand considerably. The Rabbi personally went through town, and gathered the grain, and the better people among the gentiles helped my father in obtaining the grain.’

This was after The First World War, and I remember that my father sat in his courtroom and studied the Gemara, and because of the heat, had taken off his jacket, and remained sitting only in his Tallit-kattan. Suddenly the head officer of the police (the son of the Russian Orthodox priest) entered, and when he saw the officer, he rose to put on his jacket, but the officer, who apparently was impressed by his dignity said: ‘Why do you have to put on your jacket, it is much nicer this way!’

* * *

As to every little thing, sometimes a dispute over a single small golden coin (worth 15 agorot), Jews would customarily come to the courtroom to undergo a judgment, as our sages taught: we infer that the children of Israel were litigious, etc. (Rashi, Deuteronomy 1:12). It was customary, that after the arguments of the sides was presented, each side would pay the Rabbi a judge's fee, but in most cases, my father would not take such a fee. In those instances that he would request a judge's fee in advance, he would pay the one who demands money, the sum that was demanded, and in this way eliminated a biased judgment. In cases where the complainants were poor, he would pay the demand out of his pocket and say: ‘see, I have been privileged with a boon, for a minuscule amount of time, I have earned so much time, and from you, judging and dispute, rage and anger.’

If it happened that someone recollected a financial promise that he himself did not remember, or if there was a misunderstanding at the time of a negotiation, or a slip of the tongue, my father would immediately take out his wallet and pay, without getting into any discussion, even if the details were not recollected, or even if the demand was very faulty, because if he were to initiate questioning or clarification, and explanation, it would be an insult to the dignity of the person making the demand.

My Sister Tema (in Hadera) Tells:

‘During The First World War, when I was a little girl, our father took me in hand, and gave me a pitcher of milk, and went with me to a poor family encumbered with many children, and told me to take the milk in there. On walking home’, he said: ‘How can we drink milk and they have none?’

* * *

[Page 82]

I do not remember the details concerning my father's change of position, or the negotiations, and my father's agreement to accept the appointment as the Rabbi of Dieveniskes, however I do remember the time when we made the move to a new location.

When the news spread through Belica, that my father was going to go to a different Rabbinical seat, the town was like a boiling pot. People began to plot means to prevent him from leaving. They decided to double his pay, and people came to beg him to stay on in his current position, emphasizing that this was everyone's will, even from those who do not value the Rabbi's role in leading the community.

When the wagons sent from Dieveniskes arrived to take our belongings and furniture, all the residents of Belica assembled with the single mind of preventing this, even if by force, but my father explained to them that the parting from Belica and its people was just as hard for him, but in view of the fact that he had accepted the contract of being Rabbi from the people of Dieveniskes, and seeing as they also had invested energies into the arrangement of a residence for a Rabbi, he could not take back his acceptance.

Under guard, so that nothing would interfere with the work of the wagon drivers, they began to load and tie everything, and when they finished this loading, they left for the road, and we all traveled by train. The townsfolk all came to escort the Rabbi on his way, and the entire community went to the synagogue, and the Rabbi took his leave with a heartwarming sermon, in which he cited the words of the prophet Samuel when he crowned King Saul: ‘Whose ox have I taken, and whose ass, etc.’ (I Samuel 12:4) and added to this the words of Rashi ‘I would ride on an ass to deal with the work of attending to their needs’ (and I did not take from them). As always, and in this case as well, the words were appropriate to the occasion, because they all knew that he served his community with total dedication and his salary was minuscule.

The entire community – men, women, and children – escorted the Rabbi and our family from the synagogue to the outskirts of town, and hear the march halted, and R' Eliyahu Sokolowsky spoke and said: ‘For lo, the Rabbi was like a gold braid that united us all, and bound us one link to the next link, and now that he is leaving us, let all of us guard this unity, and let us walk in the way that he has taught us.’ And in tears, all took leave of one another, with wishes for success in the new location.

In the confusion, we had forgotten about R' Itcheh the Shames, who was tied body and soul to the Rabbi and his family, and now as we were moving away, we sensed his absence from the crown, and my father was worried that something may have happened to him. When we arrived at the Neman train station, and were getting ready to board the train, being very worried, suddenly R' Itcheh appeared, crying and wailing like an infant, unable to utter a word, not even ‘good-bye.’ He attempted to enter the train with us, to travel with us, but we persuaded him to return home with the wagon driver that had brought us.

We traveled for about three hours until we reached the station at Benjakoni, and it was here that the dignitaries of the Dieveniskes community were waiting for us, and we all went into a house full of light that had been arranged for our use in the station, in our honor, and wine and refreshments were put out, and we sat with everyone around a set table in an atmosphere of friendship and with pleasant conversation. At this

[Page 83]

party, I remember the tailor, R' Shmuel Kherson, the Gabbai of the synagogue, who also led prayer services, and he entertained the guests with his sweet voice. Also, Zush'i-Yankl the owner of the pitch works, and Aryeh-Leib Rogel, the owner of the pharmacy appeared, as did many others. My father got into a discussion with R' Aryeh-Leib regarding the house that was being built from scratch after the fire, and he was happy to hear that it was already built up to the ceiling, and the remainder of the construction would be completed shortly.

On the following morning, we continued on our way – and the distance from Benjakoni to Dieveniskes (about 30 km) we covered in a wagon hitched with horses. The road passed through pine forests and gentile villages, and only one small village with twenty Jewish families, named Kolilszuk was halfway along the road. We were told that at one time they had their own Rabbi, but in recent times, the village appended itself to Dieveniskes.

Here we encountered Jews who had come on foot from Dieveniskes in order to receive the Rabbi, and among them, etched in my memory is R' Pesach the Shames, a Jew who was possessed of humor and light of foot. He told us that a few kilometers from Dieveniskes, the entire community was waiting for us, and they had erected an honor gate for the arrivals, and my father was very moved, and said: ‘Jews who live in a sea of rural gentiles, raise themselves from their daily routine, and give up a day of work, in order to take part in offering their respect to an officer of the Torah by which they live their lives, and who from their own good will have selected him as their spiritual leader, is this not independence and freedom in the midst of bondage?!’

We arrived at the rendezvous point, and the entire town – from the very young to the very old, children and women – everyone stood at attention. I remember that my sister Bruriah – at that time a student at the Hebrew Gymnasium named Epstein, in Vilna – stood up in the wagon, and spoke in Hebrew.

From there, the entire retinue continued to the synagogue, which was all lit up by the light of the day, and this added a special festive air. My father, wrapped in his Tallit, went up to the lectern beside the Holy Ark, and gave his sermon in front of the townsfolk who filled the premises to its capacity. I do not remember the details, but before my eyes, the spirits of those who stood there, are standing now, and the pleasure on the faces of the listeners, and the nodding of their heads as a sign of agreement with his words.

When my father descended from the Bima, the entire congregation surrounded him to shake his hand. My father led this community for nearly ten years up to his last day.

* * *

My father זצ”ל was a great lover of Zion, and dedicated part of his time to Zionist activities, participating in get-togethers for purposes of developing the Land, and he did a great deal for the Zionist ideal in his community. I remember, in one of his exhortations, he said to the members of ‘HeHalutz HaDati’ in Belica: ‘And here the sons of Gad and Reuven said to Moses, we will be among the first to go among the children of Israel… but Moses, our Teacher amended their words and said to them: – you will gird yourselves to go before the Lord to battle; from this we learn that the pioneer is first to go before the camp in the name of the Lord, that is how Moses taught us, and so it is for us to act accordingly in our day.’

[Page 84]

In Belica, all of the young people were Zionists, and committed to the concept of building the land, and many of them participated in such training, and subsequently made aliyah to the Land of Israel.

I recall an instance, when I stood to pray the morning service privately in one of the corners of the synagogue in Dieveniskes, and the voice of my father, choked from crying, reached my ears. I went over to see what had happened, and I found him sitting and teaching his neighbors the Mishna in the tractate of Bikurim, which described how her forefathers brought the first pickings of the fruit to the Holy Temple with great pomp, and the Mishna concludes with when they arrived at the Temple Mount, ‘Even Agrippa the King carried a basket on his shoulder and entered.’ Out of a surfeit of emotion and longing, my father cried, along with his students, who were balebatim, and to this day, that image stands before my eyes – mature men, sunk in the concerns of their daily lives, crying from a surfeit of longing for the glory days in the Land of Israel.

May father always underscored his satisfaction that he was privileged to have some of his children in the Land of Israel, and he would add: ‘People say that whatever a person does not achieve in his life, he achieves through his children; I myself did not make aliyah to the Land of Israel, but I was privileged to see that my children did.’ And so, while he was still in good health and well-being, he planned to visit the Land of Israel, going to his brother R' Shlomo who was very much beloved by him, and he said: After I return from my visit, let us all make aliyah and settle in the Land, all the members of our family. He received a visitor's visa to enter the Land of Israel, and everything was ready for him to make the trip, but in the meantime, he suddenly felt not well, and decided to turn to Dr. Shabad in Vilna, to give him an examination. During this examination, the doctor discovered that he had an incurable cancer.

My brother Aharon and sister Bruriah traveled with our father to Vienna (Austria), where there were great experts in medical science, and they were followed by my uncle R' Shlomo and my sister Sarah, and everyone did whatever was possible to save his life. Despite taking him into an operating room, and putting him under anesthesia, the doctors declined to operate after they conferred on the type of disease and the condition of the patient. He did not know that they had not operated, and said afterward that he doesn't feel that it did him any good, and that he was getting better.

Towards Passover of 5693 [1933] my father returned to Dieveniskes from Vienna, and for the night of the Seder, he even got out of bed, and with great difficulty, he consumed the requisite amount of matzo and said that he could not taste it. Despite the great suffering that grew stronger with each passing day, he did not lose his hope that he would regain his health. and he would repeat: How pleasant and beautiful the world is.

He kept on from day-to-day, and on 23 Sivan 5693 [June 17.1933] Friday[4] in the afternoon, he returned his soul to his creator.

תנצב”ה


Translator's footnotes:

  1. There is an ambiguity in the writing that makes it difficult to tell if the names Grodinsky and Grodzinsky are the same or truly distinct. Return
  2. In modern day Lithuania. Not to be confused with Dainiskes, also in Lithuania. Return
  3. An alternate spelling for Novogrudok Return
  4. Friday of that week was 22 Sivan, or June 16. Return


[Page 85]

The Rebbetzin and Rabbi Amongst the Community

by Bruriah Aloni (Rudnick)

The home of the Rabbi blended beautifully into the life of the shtetl, and it accelerated the pace of the needy working people. Because of this, he was respected and held in high esteem.

The income of the Rabbi was based on the sale of certain specific necessities. given the acronym ‘Gezela[1] for Gazeh (Kerosine), Zaltz (Salt), Licht (Candles), and Hayvn (Yeast). That is to say, the Rabbi had a ‘concession for the sale of these items, only in honor of the Sabbath’.

Out of his own good will, my father passed over the right to sell some of these items mentioned above, and we would sell only the candles and yeast (sales of the necessities were set by the Rabbi with the consent of the community). There was not a house in the shtetl where Challah was not baked in honor of the Sabbath, and therefore, every Thursday, all the citizens of the town would come to by yeast (and candles).

Our mother ז”ל, the righteous Rebbetzin, a pretty woman, a scion of a family of prominent great Rabbis going back in a chain for 36 generations, would engage in the sale of these previously mentioned necessities. As previously mentioned, each Thursday, after a hard day's work in the house, she would take out her merchandise, and put it on a special table, in the room used for the Bet-Din, and engage in her sales. She did not depend on family members who wanted to take her place in this labor, and not, God forbid, from a suspicion of shorting the customers, but rather, because during the sale, she would engage in conversation with everyone, asking about their business and undertakings, and everyone would pour our the troubles they had on their hearts in front of her – and because of this, my mother did not want to pass up the process. Many in the shtetl would wait until Thursday, for a face-to-face meeting with the Rebbetzin, so they could come into her house and to hear words of encouragement and succor from her mouth. Because of this, she knew all the people in the shtetl, and set her price in accordance with their socio-economic status, and only the very few paid the full price that was set. From the poor, she received either a small, or only symbolic payment (in order that they not be embarrassed), and for many, she would add flour, or other necessities in honor of the Sabbath, for no charge, and she would do this discreetly, with grace and tact, so that the recipient would not know about it, and not be exposed because of their need.

Our mother was noted for her fine memory, and if one of her needy customers would not appear on a Thursday, to receive the necessities, on the following day, she would send one of the children to bring the goods to the needy person, in order to avoid, God forbid, denying them for the Sabbath – and leaving them without meat, fish, and all sorts of good things to eat…. and it was in this spirit, that my mother organized a group of activists who would help her with the assembly of donations on behalf of the needy. If a misfortune befell a family, such as a merchant losing his assets, or a horse of a wagon driver falling, my mother would personally get on her own two feet and approach the well-to-do in the town, and collect the

[Page 86]

required funds, in order to get the family back on an even keel. It was in this way that our mother was a helpmeet to our father in all community affairs that he supported, aid, education, in which he was appointed as a head, and would encourage others to engage, faithfully, in community service, as, for example, in Bikur Kholim, Linat Tzedek, The Gemilut Hasadim Bank, and the Elementary Hebrew School.

This latter institution was, in my mind, was the crowning item in my father's effort in the shtetl, for the sake of study and education. He opened the doors of the school to all groups and movements in the shtetl, in order that they conduct – after school hours – their activities there, and in this way, he drew them close to the issue of the school itself. In the vision of his spirit, he saw that the school could cause the realization of his own world view, to educate the young generation of his community in accordance with his own personal spiritual values, and in accordance with his unshakeable core beliefs. He applied his entire energy and efforts to getting the school opened, whose expenses were large: educational materials, and books for everyone who needed them (and who in the shtetl was not needy?) Teacher salaries, maintenance of the building, and like items.

All the concerns of the school were on his head. and he demonstrated his capacity – he knew how to do the work, and engage others in the work, writing to the emigrants of the shtetl in America, to get them enthusiastic about his ideas, and his views, and he got their support.

All factions, even the communists, tried to get their officers elected to the school committee, in order that they have an influence over the education of the children, and it was not only once that there were very sharp differences of opinion. But my father always found the way to work out a compromise among the antagonists, and to cause the decision to conform with his point of view.

It is necessary to point out that the school stood at a high pedagogic level and a high level in its studies, and he always knew how to find the appropriate teachers. Nevertheless, each faction sought teachers that were sympathetic to its own spirit, and it was necessary to find teachers that knew how to keep all satisfied, that would be satisfactory to the observant as well as the more secular, and the Rabbi would carry the day out of his emphasis on the traditional and pedagogical character of the candidate. He would preside over periodic discussions with the teachers, and his eye was open and alert to all that went on in the school. His work on behalf of the school earned him respect and affection among all the residents of Belica, from all walks of life and persuasion, most of whom were exterminated, and are today no more.


Translator's footnote:

  1. A play on the Hebrew word for robbery. Return


Episodes from the House of the Resident Rabbi

by Tema Bakhamotsky (Rudnick)

 

Facsimile of a page from ‘Oholei Shem’
about ‘Belica’ and Rabbi Joseph Rudnick

 

Tzila Rudnick

[Page 87]

My father, The Rabbi Gaon R' Joseph Rudnick, when he was 28 years old, was appointed as the Rabbi of Belica. I was a little girl, but I was impressed by the reception that the shtetl organized in honor of its Rabbi, and this impression has not left my mind.

We arrived at the Neman railroad station towards evening (about 10 km from the shtetl), and from there, we were required to travel by wagon. All the people of the shtetl, from the young to the old, came out on foot to welcome us, and each one carried a candle in their hand. My mother ז”ל, my sister Sarah, and I, traveled in an ordinary wagon, and my father זצ”ל was taken in a ‘carriage.’ It was an entourage that was a sight to the eye: At its head was the carriage, and after it, the wagon, and after them, and around them – the entire community walking on foot.

When we reached the shtetl, we were taken into one of the ‘beautiful, spacious’ houses by the standards of that day (the rooms were lit with large kerosine lamps) and a large congregation pressed itself into the house and outside of it. The windows were wide open, and everyone was craning to ‘catch a glimpse’ beside a window (we stayed to live in this house for a set time).

* * *

All community life, and the details of town affairs centered on the Rabbi's house, and whatever he said – was the law, since he ruled accordingly, was the judge, advisor, arbitrator, teacher and educator.

Each Yom Kippur Eve, the notables of the shtetl would come to the Rabbi's home for a discussion and to taste the interpretation of law that had been previously prepared in a unique way for this day. Between Mincha and Maariv on Simchat Torah the balebatim would be seated around the table in our home, to partake in sweet words and to hear Torah matters. Song would burst out of our house, and would echo in all corners of the town, after which, my father זצ”ל would be escorted in a parade, with dancing, to the synagogue to rejoice with the Hakafot. This same picture would be repeated after the Maariv service – this time, from the synagogue back to our house, each person with a lit candle in hand, a heart full of joy and a song on their lips.

* * *

There were no kitchens in the shtetl, and cattle were largely slaughtered at night, close to midnight, and if a ‘defect’ would be revealed in the lungs, they would immediately come to the Rabbi with the ‘shyleh.[1]’ We children, had been asleep for some time already, and suddenly a tumult was heard in the house – here comes the ritual slaughterer and the butchers, bringing the lung, putting it on the table, and waiting for the Rabbi's word. My father זצ”ל would look at the lung, palpate it, look in the volume ‘Yoreh Deya’ and issue a ruling.

I recall the incident of the ‘kerchief’ – a ‘kerchief’ had been stolen from one of the women, this being on a summer night, when windows were kept wide open. What to do? In the ensuing Sabbath, they held up the reading of the Torah in the synagogue, and announced an ‘excommunication,’ so that the thief, or anyone who knows about the theft, should return or give information about the stolen item. And lo, in the following

[Page 88]

week, on one evening, at a time when my father was busy with a Bet-Din case, I spied something through the window, and a scream escaped from my throat: Here is the ‘kerchief!’ – what happened? After the announcement of the ‘excommunication,’ the person who had possession of the stolen item must have become frightened, and what was he to do – to return it to the woman directly, well his name would then become publicly revealed, and so, he chose rather to simply put the ‘kerchief’ beside the Rabbi's house, assured that it would be returned to the woman without the matter receiving any publicity.

* * *

During the First World War, when the German invader reached us, they grabbed a townsman with regard to a matter that caused them to convene a military tribunal. The military command was at some distance from us, in the city of Bialystok, and it was in the middle of winter, and who knew what the outcome of the military court would be, he could end up being sentenced to death. My father decided he would put himself in harm's way personally, and along with one of the other prominent members of the town, (Itzkowitz or Kamenetzky?) traveled to Bialystok, to enter a plea on behalf of the accused – to free him an save him – and indeed, succeeded in his journey.

After the First World War, when the Poles seized power, the pillaging of the ‘Poznan cadres’ exceeded all bounds, and they assaulted the Jews, tearing out their beards, and throwing them from the trains. On one of those days, my father was traveling by train to Vilna to meet with teachers for the town school, and the ‘Poznan cadres’ fell upon him as well, in the Lida station. Hinde Beksht was traveling with him, who was a Woman of Valor, and she debarked in the station, and reported this to the commandant, and he provided my father with a military guard until he reached Vilna.

* * *

My father was an ardent Zionist as far back as his childhood. He participated in a variety of meetings of the ‘Mizrahi,’ and afforded his children a Zionist Torah education. His desire to reach The Holy Land was not consummated because of his illness and untimely death, but this desire was achieved by his children. To his satisfaction, we made Aliyah, and he would publicly express his satisfaction about this. Members of our family were exterminated in the Diaspora Holocaust of our people, and we did not have the privilege of realizing our father's dream of having us gather our entire family in the Land of Israel.

May the souls of those who were killed in the Holocaust be guarded with us for eternity.


Translator's footnote:

  1. From the Hebrew word for a ‘question,’ indicating an issue requiring Rabbinical disposition. Return


The Rabbi Gaon R' Aharon Teitz זצוק”ל

by Rabbi Moshe Levin, Rabbi of Netanya

 

The Rabbi Gaon R' Aharon Teitz

 

From Among the Townsfolk in the Twenties

[Page 89]

ב”ה

I studied together with the famous Rabbi Gaon R' Aharon Teitz ז”ל of Belica. However, in the Yeshiva, he was called R' Aharon ‘Dvenishker’ after the place where his parents lived, Dieveniskes, where his father זצ”ל served as the resident Rabbi.

I studied together with him at the renown Radun Yeshiva, run by the Chafetz Chaim זצוק”ל who stood at its head. At that time, the Yeshiva was at its peak splendor, both in numbers and quality: Approximately three hundred students learned there, among them Gaonim, and great scholars, whose being was suffused with Shas and Poskim, and the fear of God was their treasure, such that if they were privileged, so would be we, to have them today grace the reputation of our people with their erudition, wisdom, and charitable actions. The very few of them that survived the Holocaust, who were saved from the polluted talons of the Nazi beast of prey and its accomplices ימ”ש, today occupy the premier positions in the rabbinical and Torah world, like the Gaon, R' Mordechai Savitzky שליט”א, the Rabbi of Boston in the United States, and others like him who studied at this previously mentioned Yeshiva.

And in this period of zenith, the young R' Aharon ז”ל carved out a special place for himself in this Yeshiva – he challenged the ability to focus, and everyone looked upon him as someone who stood head and shoulders above everyone, and saw in him one of the leaders in the future. It was because everything about him spoke of grace and glory, both in external appearance and internally – he was pleasant in his disposition, quiet and confident. I cannot recall a single instance when I saw him get angry, without an ability to control himself, everything that he had to say was done so in a pleasant manner, carefully weighed, and with understanding. He was a person of impressive appearance, nobility and fine temperament, all of this carved into an athletic physique, and his physical stature reflected his inner spirituality. His expertise in Shas and Poskim stood on a firm foundation, and didn't just float around in the air, he was organized and paid attention to detail, and he was on the mark with everything that he did.

And here, apart from his great, substantial and encompassing knowledge of Shas and its commentaries, in all Talmudic subject matter, he developed a broad and orderly understanding as well. How greatly was I impressed when on one occasion, I saw his graduation diploma in which it all spoke of honor, with unusually high marks adorning it. Learning and wisdom amalgamated themselves in him, and became a single unit, his character being a manifestation of the words of our Sages in Pirkei Avot: ‘If you have studied the Torah, do not keep it to yourself as a favor, because it was for this purpose that you were created.’ The wisdom, Torah, and Enlightenment, that he carried with himself, were sunken deep in his soul. body and demeanor, as if they were created together with him, and that this was the way he was born coming from his mother's womb. However, he had a fine pedigree, being the scion of Rabbis of considerable scholarly stature and piety, however, the great spiritual legacy that he inherited came as a result of his own personal effort in scholarship, because he was one who was diligent to apply himself, and did not know how to remain idle.

We studied together in a group, learning ‘Yoreh Deya’, and we put so much of ourselves into this, that we practically never thought to ask one another any personal questions. Apart from the R' Aharon the scholar, the expert, and the wise man, I do not know any other R' Aharon – how he grew up to that point, and where he obtained his wisdom and knowledge, and in what way, I do not know.

[Page 90]

Of him, I will say the words of Bar Kipok about Rav Ashi (Tractate Moed Katan, 25B). Rav Ashi said to Bar Kipok, ‘And on this day, what do you say?’ He said, I believe, ‘If a flame falls among the cedars, what is the vine along the wall to do?’ This statement requires some study to understand it: If it was Bar Kipok's intention to simply point out the difference between that which is high and that which is low, he would have only had to mention the vine, without appending it to the wall. It would appear that Bar Kipok essentially meant to find the difference not only between what is high and what is low, but also the difference between what is high and what is higher, because sometime it is difficult to distinguish between the cedar and the vine as to which is higher, because the vine might by happenstance grow along a high wall that reaches to the sky, and it is possible that the vine will attain a length higher than the cedar. However, there is a fundamental difference between them: the height of the cedar comes from itself alone, from its own independent characteristics, but not so the vine, who of its own character, is low, and only by chance that a high wall is nearby, is it able to raise itself. And it was in this way, that Bar Kipok wanted to circumscribe the impact of Rav Ashi in contrast to the remainder of the great scholars, who succeeded in raising themselves only by virtue of the wall, that is to say, by virtue of the place, and the key of life that happened to fall their way.

These words really do fit the Rabbi Gaon R' Aharon Teitz זצ”ל. He was likened to a cedar that grew from within himself, his persona radiated from his own light, and also because of his immense learning focus, and his effort in Torah and wisdom, under all conditions and circumstances. Because of this, his short life are carved into me with an eternal stamp, and about him, we will be able to cite the words of R' Joseph son of R' Yehoshua who heard from heaven ‘Fortunate is he who comes here, and his Talmud is in his hand.’ That is to say, that whatever Talmud he has mastered, he did so at the cost of his own personal effort.

This was the type of person R' Aharon was. And therefore, it is no wonder that in the rabbinical world, he earned a respected place, when he personally took the rabbinical chair in Dieveniskes and its environs, and was one of the principal spokespersons, because he possessed all of the virtues required for leadership. What a pity it is regarding those swallowed up by the earth.


A Candle of the Soul to Dear Parents

by Zerakh Kremen

 

Abraham & Malka Kremen

 

Bel136b.jpg
 
Bel136a.jpg
Shlomit Kamenetzky, during her visit to Belica (1938) as a citizen of the Holy Land
 
The Pharmacist Abraham Wismonsky; Malka Kremen

 

My father, R' Abraham ben R' Yaakov-Shmuel Kremen ז”ל, was born in the year 1884. He was orphaned from his father (a baker) at a young age, and then the entire burden of his education and the support of the family fell on his mother and oldest sister Dvora.

Already at ‘Heder’ age, my father, as a boy, demonstrated that he was a very intelligent child, and for this

[Page 91]

reason, his Rabbis and teachers advised that he continue with his studies. By dint of his own effort, without any special help, he continued his secular studies and thanks to his dedication and talent, he became a pharmacist.

The old, established pharmacist in Belica, at that time, was Mr. Wismonsky ז”ל, and he sold his pharmacy to my father ז”ל in partnership with R' Yehoshua Jasinowsky ז”ל, who was wealthy, and afterwards left Belica. In this way, my father remained the sole pharmacist in the town, and in those days, when there was not a physician in the entire surrounding area, and only in the city of Lida, the town pharmacist was not only a pharmacist, but also a physician, veterinarian, and even a faithful family advisor.

I can recall that my father ז”ל would tell how he rescued people and cattle from certain death, by means of first-aid that he devised on the spot, following common sense…

During the time of The First World War, when most of the residents of the town left Belica and went off to the east, my father ז”ל remained in the town, and was transformed into the head of all concerns for everyone. Especially, he stood out in the administration of help during the typhus and cholera epidemics, that penetrated the entire area, and he worked day-and-night to save lives, without any form of compensation.

After the capture by the Germans in the year 1915, he was appointed by them as the ‘amtsforshteher’ meaning – an official responsible for the area, and on the strength of his position, he became the ombudsman, on behalf of the Jews, with the occupying regime.

The gentile populace also respected and loved him. At every occasion, when the bandits would attack the town, his family was never assaulted in a harmful way, despite the fact that his medicinal inventory was pillaged in the pharmacy. Also, during the time of transition between regimes, in 1918-1920, the local gentiles protected him and his family.

In the year 1916, my father married my mother, Mrs. Malka, who was also from the Kremen family – from Zhaludok (they were distant relatives). My maternal grandfather, R' David Kremen (Der Holdover) זצ”ל, was known as a formidable scholar, and as a successful merchant in the entire area. Before she got married, my mother completed a course in being a pharmacist's assistant, in Odessa, and carried the title of 'Pharmacist's Assistant,' and as a consequence, was of great help to my father in the pharmacy.

My older brother Yaakov was born in the year 1917.

After the end of The First World War, when the Polish government was established, my father dedicated himself during this entire period to community work, in all aspects of life in the shtetl, especially in the school committee and in the Bikur Kholim (he would provide medicines to those who required them either free or at half-price). When the fire-fighters brigade was founded, he was its first president, and accordingly, he was appointed by the authorities as the Public Guardian for all the people in the region (Opiekun-Spoleczny) and was one of the members of the local council (‘Gmina’). When the order went out from the

[Page 92]

government to organize the Jewish communities, the community of the Lida district organized itself, and our town was added to that of the Lida community. The official representative of Belica in the district community was R' Shmuel-Joseph Itzkowitz ז”ל, but a local committee was organized in the town, in which the following were active: My father ז”ל, Shlomo Jasinowsky ז”ל, Chaim-Noah Kamenetzky ז”ל, Ephraim Ruzhansky ז”ל, Israel Zlocowsky ז”ל, Zalman Yosselewicz ז”ל.

Despite the fact that he was a pharmacist (an occupation thought to be ‘free-thinking’), my father was an observant Jew who took care to observe the traditional customs in our house. He, personally, prayed three times daily, and loved to lead services in front of the Ark (he had a sweet voice, and even led services on the High Holy Days).

On Wednesday 9 Sivan 5693 (April 4, 1933) at the end of the local market day in town, he felt badly, and got sharp pains in his chest. The doctor who was summoned tried to save him, but his strenuous efforts were of no avail – and he passed away in a half hour. A heavy pall of mourning settled over his family and over all the people in town. In escorting him to his final resting place, the Rabbi of the town, and a number of the balebatim eulogized him, and he was laid to his eternal rest with great respect.

My mother continued to run the pharmacy (hiring a qualified pharmacist to help her), and similarly continued to dedicate herself to me and my brother with all her soul, and concerned herself with the continuing of our education.

During The Second World War, our house was burned down, along with most of the houses in the town. (My mother was left without a roof, and she moved to live with my aunt Dvora). When the Germans levied an inordinate tax on the Jews of the town, and took 25 hostages with the threat of killing them, my mother brought her precious valuables, and turned it over to Israel Zlocowsky, in order to redeem the hostages.

When the decree to drive all the Jews out of Belica was promulgated, my mother went to her place of birth in Zhaludok, to her sister Sonia, and it was there that she was killed along with all of the Jews of Zhaludok on 22 Iyyar 5702 (September 5, 1942).

May the souls of my precious and beloved parents be bound up in the bond of life.

 

« Previous Page Table of Contents Next Page »


This material is made available by JewishGen, Inc. and the Yizkor Book Project for the purpose of
fulfilling our mission of disseminating information about the Holocaust and destroyed Jewish communities.
This material may not be copied, sold or bartered without JewishGen, Inc.'s permission. Rights may be reserved by the copyright holder.


JewishGen, Inc. makes no representations regarding the accuracy of the translation. The reader may wish to refer to the original material for verification.
JewishGen is not responsible for inaccuracies or omissions in the original work and cannot rewrite or edit the text to correct inaccuracies and/or omissions.
Our mission is to produce a translation of the original work and we cannot verify the accuracy of statements or alter facts cited.

  Belitsa, Belarus     Yizkor Book Project     JewishGen Home Page


Yizkor Book Director, Lance Ackerfeld
This web page created by Jason Hallgarten

Copyright © 1999-2024 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 22 Jul 2022 by JH