[Page 1]

“If a book has a chance to reach one soul, write it.”-S.G.

THIS BOOK is a gravestone, a monument to the murdered Jews of the Polish city of Chrzanow. It is dedicated to women, men, and children. I don't know how many died-certainly about 15,000. They died because they were Jews. They died because they patiently prayed together for mercy, relying on Divine providence. They were one large family, just like Jews in almost every Polish town, and that is why we can say that they all died as martyrs. This is the monument for them, for my brothers and sisters-one monument for everyone.

I close my eyes and in the darkness I see all of Europe, from the Ukraine to France, from Norway to Italy. Thousands and thousands of cities, towns, and villages occupied by Jews. Blood, blood, blood. Pale faces, dying children, and then-ashes, ashes, ashes. Six million murdered Jewish hearts, and in the middle of Europe-Poland! All around a huge wreath of Jewish ruins, rivers of Jewish tears, voices uttering Jewish prayers, and in the middle, the great Jewish plain of ashesPoland, the mass grave of millions of Jews.

Among the hundreds and hundreds of Polish cities and towns-with the proud Jewish Warsaw in their midst, like the heart of a vibrant body-among these hundreds of Jewish towns, my eyes wander, seeking the town where my cradle stood, where my mother sang lullabyes, where my grandmother happily gazed at me as I took my first uncertain steps on the road of Jewish life.

In the southwest comer of Poland, where the rails cut through the crust of the earth on a broad path from east to west, lived and dreamed a large town among the small towns of Poland. Its name was Chrzanow. It still has the same name, but today no Jews remain there. After the war the boundaries changed, but before World War II Chrzanow was near the border of Germany, the majority of whose people became the beasts of humanity.

In the first day of the war Chrzanow fell into German hands. I remember one pitch-dark night. I was returning by automobile from the last meeting of the Polish Parliament in Warsaw, trying to get to Cracow to my wife. We were not far from Mielec, not far from Tarnow. Suddenly the headlights of a car blazed. Hundreds of dark figures were running in the direction of Rozwadow. I asked what they were running from. They were Jews from Chrzanow and Jaworzno. Already drawn into the net of the Polish tragedy, they were running toward their own destruction.

Now, after the flood has already passed, I ask myself what my town, our town, of Chrzanow really was. I close my eyes again and go back through the decades. I try to recall the true image of Chrzanow. Its streets were like those in Chagall's paintings:

[Page 2]

poor, crooked streets ... caricatures. But many of them are still vivid in my memory. I can't forget the street that was named after a famous Polish historian of the distant past, Kadlubek. In a side street off this main street stood a crooked house; here I played with other children in the courtyard of my grandmother's apartment. Going down that street after a rainstorm was like crossing the Red Sea. The long Krzyska Street (from the Polish word krzyz, which means “cross”) left me with an almost mystical feeling of terror. The street was extremely long; funeral processions would make their way down to the cemetery outside of town. In addition, Christians-- tsabanesas they were called-lived on that street. For us children, that fact alone was a source of terror.

Krakowska Street had a place of honor. It, too, was long, like an artery running direct from the heart of our famous rynek (marketplace). The people who lived there were a bit wealthier, and their houses were made of brick. The street extended to a spot that we dreamed of every Sabbath, when we stole away for a stroll toward the river and the fields. That spot was called Piaski (Sand).

But the most prominent place in my memory is reserved for the most beautiful street, the “aristocratic” street, which was called Alea Henryka (Henry's Blvd.). On both sides of the street, trees flourished and fine houses stood, along with the courthouse, the municipal building, and the various offices that represented power and authority in our city. This street, which was named after a converted Jew, continued quite a distance to a suburb called Huta, where the Austrian military maintained its headquarters for years. This was the city's castle, and Huta is where I was born, because that is where my parents lived at first.

I remember the major “battle” that was fought in our town about whether to move the train station from the city proper to the suburb. The suburb won and, as a result, every Friday afternoon hundreds of Jewish men and women ran from the train up the Alea Henryka in order not to be late for the Sabbath. It was an image that etched itself deep into my memory. But for the older generation, Alea Henryka was not to be used on the Sabbath. It led to the forests, to hidden places near the stone quarry, and especially to a small forest in the midst of which was a large, excavated sand pit. The younger generation amused itself there on the Sabbath and holy days. Mothers and fathers were distressed when their sons and daughters escaped into God's beautiful natural world. But the girls and boys paid more attention to the call of their blood than to the call of their parents.

Another road led from the marketplace toward Jaworzno and Siersza, with their large coal mines, and to the village of Luszovitze. Like rays of the sun, six roads led from the marketplace in various directions; and the world toward which they led was it seemed to us, a very large one.

To one side was the famous place called Trzebinia. On the way there was a hill only a few meters high, but in our childhood fantasies this hill was quite large. It seemed especially large and tall when we were told that the Messiah had once stood on it, preparing to redeem the world. Looking down from the peak of the hill, however, he suddenly saw Jews desecrating the Sabbath, and he went away. Perhaps on account

[Page 3]

of those sins we later had so much trouble and toil in our city.

A few dozen kilometers past Trzebinia. was Cracow. In our imagination, Cracow was the center of the world. Children used to beg their parents to take them just once to see Cracow. Once when I was very young, how happy I was when I rode all day with my parents toward Cracow, passing the spa Alvernia. (famous for its clean air), and continuing farther past Koshov, which was also famous for Polish ruffians. To this day, I haven't forgotten that journey. My mother's eyes, looking at me in the photographer's studio, still glow in my memory.

But Cracow wasn't the sum total of the wide world. In the other direction, the railroad led to another city like Chrzanow- Oswiecim, or Auschwitz, roughly eighteen kilometers from Chrzanow. As a young boy, I ran the whole way with some friends, just to see who could get there first. This is the same Auschwitz where the German Nazis tortured millions of people, most of them Jews. Hitler entertained the new arrivals at this hell for Jews with orchestras playing German music while mad dogs were driven to tear the flesh of little children. Today a museum is there.

But in old Chrzanow, not one of us ever dreamed that our fellow city would become an eternal symbol of our martyrdom. Oshpitsiner- as the Jews of Oswiecim (Auschwitz) were called- didn't care for people from Chrzanow too much. Many of the reasons for this rivalry applied equally to both sides. There was a contest in piety. Oshpitsiner thought of Chrzanower as slightly less pious Jews, and Chrzanower thought the same way of the Oshpitsiner.

This was the city through which Chrzanow had access to the wide world on its west. In that direction lay Vienna, where the emperor reigned, the great city where Jews from Galicia often sought justice, for the highest court in all Austria stood there. Health was sought there as well, because the greatest physicians were in Vienna. A “lightning express” train ran from Cracow to Vienna, which took only six hours, compared to the usual ten hours, or the passenger local, which took fourteen hours.

I remember the fight of the Chrzanow Jews in Vienna to get the “Lux Torpedo” to stop at their small station. I recall that for a short time they were victorious. They were in a hurry, the rich Jews from Chrzanow- the regular express was too slow for them. But the main reason was jealousy of Trzebinia, because the lightning express stopped there. How unforgettable were the long disputes, the heated discussions at the marketplace and in the foyer of the synagogue, regarding the world-shattering question of whether the lightning express would stop in Chrzanow or not, and the depth and seriousness of the town luminaries' ambition for Chrzanow to enjoy equal rights as a center of European communications. How sincere and comradely were these heroic struggles.

And indeed Chrzanow wasn't just any town. Life bubbled over there. Anyone who hasn't experienced the lively tempo of a Thursday fair at the marketplace has no idea what economic prosperity means. But that wasn't all. Chrzanow maintained solid connections with surrounding cities and towns as far away as Germany, Katowice, Myslowice and even Breslau. But you will learn a great deal more about that in

[Page 4]

later chapters. In short, Chrzanow was a well-known commercial city.

The best merchandise in Chrzanow, however, was the Torah. The city was a fortress of devotion and true piety. Religious devotion was so great in the town that even those who weren't pious had to reckon with these sentiments. A good deal of struggle arose from this fact! Piety, deep belief, a deep intimacy with faith, formed the essential tone and illuminated the life of the city.

This piety was the real reason behind the struggles for and against Zionism, against modern ideas. It wasn't simply the backward reaction of benighted clerics. There was a real fear that the contacts of young people with the great ideas of the Gentiles, with “the goyish, “ as their culture was called, would slowly choke and destroy the tree of Judaism. A real love of Judaism motivated those who followed paths that were not ours, the young Zionist generation who strived to reach new horizons, to achieve true freedom, to revive our people.

The older generation, unmistakably, understood us well. But because they understood us-with all the sharp intelligence of the Jewish brain-they struggled with an especially dedicated stubbornness on behalf of the fortress of the past. I would more accurately say that we young people did not understand the older generation. We casually dismissed them as backward, believing that they didn't understand us and wanted to confine us in a prison of intolerance. And the real motivation was the older generation's great love for the Jewish people, their belief in God, in the Messiah and the Redemption. Our paths separated, but the same pillar of love for the people led both generations. And today nothing remains of these hundreds of cities and towns, nor of my town of Chrzanow. It was like a pearl among a string of pearls. The string has disappeared, and so have the pearls.

The life of our Polish towns, including Chrzanow, was wrapped in a unique poetry. This poetry cannot be described in words. Perhaps another Y.L. Peretz could do so, but not my own poor pen. Who possesses the poetry to describe the well in the middle of the marketplace, around which Jewish women and children stood washing new-dishes, preparing for Passover? Who can describe the glowing, almost mystical atmosphere of celebration that accompanied this task, as if people were preparing for some kind of indescribable joy?

I will never forget the winter nights when, still a child, I went to cheder to my first teacher, the unforgettable Royte Lume. He was such a good, holy Jew! And years later I walked one dark night with careful tread through the slippery marketplace and through a certain long, large courtyard, to a teacher of more advanced students, Volvele Schor. He was such a scholar, such a pedant, and an ill-tempered man may he forgive me! I can still feel the pain of the pinches he dealt me. But I remember both of them here with profound respect. The poetry of that walk to cheder still lies in my heart, and as I write these lines, I once again hold the little lamp, bearing a bit of oil and a wick, that fitfully illuminated my way and drove away the darkness, so that I would arrive safely at the cheder. I see you before my eyes now, my dear town of Chrzanow.

I dreamed of you often during the terrible days of the last war. In the most

[Page 5]

dangerous days of the Blitzkrieg in London I thought of you, of the youth I spent in your buildings. And when moments arrived that threatened to be my last, I suddenly saw in the far distance the cemetery outside of town, next to the little stream Hechlo. To us children, that little stream seemed a great river, and its depths aroused deep respect in us. I saw that cemetery before me more than once: the graves of our rabbis, and the hundred slips of paper with prayers inscribed on them lying on top of the graves. And in the midst of this forest of graves I suddenly saw the two black marble gravestones of my parents: my good, intelligent mother and my generous, impulsive father who had a character pure as crystal ... I see you again now...

And now that poetry has ended! Nothing more is left. During the war I sent several letters from London to my home town by way of special messengers parachutists. But I never received a single answer. And when the war ended, my first thoughts and my first letter were directed toward my home town of Chrzanow, and the city in which I later lived, Cracow. That time I received an answer from Mandelbaum, in Trzebinia, along with a photograph of my parents' grave. Around the grave stand two Jews, one of them pronouncing the El Mole Rahamim, and two candles burn on the grave. Thank you, dear brother, for this gift!

And now I a m writing these words, thousands of miles away from you, my town of Chrzanow! I am now in the largest Jewish city in the world, a city populated by two-thirds the number of Jews who lived in all of Poland before the war. In this city live one-fifth of our entire people; in this city, a glorious, rich, busy Jewish life is lived. This city- New York- is a new source of continuity, and from it streams the eternity of our people. Far away, in Europe, millions of us died, slaughtered by a murderous people and their helpers, by beasts who preached to the entire world that they represent a “higher morality.” And here, a new Jewish life has grown up. And thus it has been for thousands of years: destruction followed by development, and once again destruction. But what remains is eternity.

My town of Chrzanow, you have left us, you will never return to be part of Jewish life. But we will not forget you! You shine in our hearts like the light of love.

And this gravestone will remain as a monument to you. Your sacrifice was not in vain. You are a part of the indescribable mass sacrifice of pain and tragedy, brought by our people to the altar of humanity in the struggle against the forces of darkness, in order to make possible the sunrise of new joy in our glorious, millennia-long history: the rebirth of the State of Israel.

Here, in the great Jewish city of New York, I stretch out my hand to you, to the extinguished light of my home town.
May its memory be blessed.

And you, the remnants of my fellow townspeople, scattered throughout the entire world-here in New York, in almost all the lands of the Americas and the five continents, and in our State of Israel, where I saw you just a few weeks before this writing-all of you will honor this monument with your love.

After a period of gruesome tragedy, we are marching further toward a sunny future.

[Page 6]

Indescribably terrible was the sacrifice our people made, but we are on the way to better days. And this is the only comfort, when I think about the death of my home town and the destruction of hundreds and thousands of sister cities and towns, which died together with you, my unforgettable home town.

Jewish children, pick up the books that grew out of the creative history of our people, which stretches back more than three thousand years! Drink at the sources, nourish yourselves with love for our people, with the strength to suffer, with enduring faith. May these qualities make you, the generation which comes to embrace the entire Jewish people with love, happy in the State of Israel! Then our catastrophe will have served its purpose as a major episode in the eternal path of our people.

[Page 7]

THIS BOOK should not be understood and interpreted exclusively as a volume of history. I had neither the intention nor the opportunity to dig among the dry archives of history. Even if I had wanted to, the necessary sources-the municipal and private archival materials, chronicles of the Jewish community, burial society records, and so forth-are lacking.

I have confined myself to a general description of an exclusively Jewish city that once existed in prewar Poland, emphasizing particular historical moments and the unique characteristics that made Chrzanow stand out among our Jewish towns.

I recognize clearly that this book may not be of the highest literary quality. I am sure that a great deal here is worthy of criticism. May my dear townspeople forgive my audacity. I have taken upon myself this difficult task, following the opinion of our rabbis, who said:

“Where there are no men, strive to be a man.”

Whether I have successfully met this challenge will have to be determined by our surviving older and younger Jews from Chrzanow themselves.

My intentions were the best, and I worked at this task as best I could. May the pages of this book, written with love and piety, serve as an eternal Kadish for the ruined city, and the more than ten thousand Jewish fives cut off before their time.

Dear Friends:

In 1947-1948, the late Mordechai Bochner, father of my dear lost school friend, Malek Bochner, undertook the enormous task of traveling through Europe to gather photographs, information and stories to write a book about our Chrzanow. He deserves our thanks, admiration and we bless his memory for what he accomplished under the most difficult circumstances.

Time has taken its toll. The pages of his book are disintegrating and the binding is falling apart. Saddest of all, very few people are able to read it in Yiddish. The time has come to correct this situation. I hope that with the cooperation of the membership and friends of the Chrzanower Association, I will be able to have it properly translated and rebound into a new Yiddish-English edition.

At the same time, I would like to get as many additional photographs as possible, properly dated and identified, to include in the new printing. This, my friends, is a request to all of you who have or know about any photographs available to send me copies or originals. I personally assure you that they will be handled carefully and returned if so desired.

I hope that you will respond soon and favorably.

With many thanks from our President, Irving Wiener and myself, I remain

Always truly,

[Page 8]

UNFORTUNATELY WE do not know exactly when Chrzanow was established. Probably the city was settled and began to develop in the beginning of the eighteenth century.

In its first years Chrzanow fell under the administration of the county seat of Olkusz, in Congress Poland, about 25 kilometers from Chrzanow. A Jewish book dating from that period contains a reference to the city of “Chrzanow, near Koscielec. “ This suggests that the nearby village, which was the seat of the Polish aristocratic family Vodzhitsky, played a larger role at that time than the county seat, which became significant later on. Chrzanow first achieved prominence as a Jewish city with the appointment of its first rabbi, Reb Shloymele of blessed memory.

Chrzanow is located in the southwest corner of Poland, not far from the left bank of the small river Hechlo, which flows into the Vistula.

Before World War 1, the economic structure of the Jewish community of Chrzanow was strongly influenced by its proximity to the so-called “Three Emperors' Corner, “ the border dividing Russia, Germany, and Austria. The city lay on the main highway connecting Eastern and Western Europe. The railroad line from Czernowitz through Lemberg to Vienna passed through the town, connecting Galicia to Germany and St. Petersburg to Rome. Naturally, the influences of eastern and western cultures were felt among the Jews of Chrzanow, both intellectually and economically.

Thanks to its favorable geographical location, Chrzanow could have undergone much more, extensive economic development, were it not for the lackadaisical approach of the city fathers in previous generations. According to the original plan, the railroad connection to the nearby Czech territory was to be built right in the center of Chrzanow. But those who ran the city in those days protested that the whistles of the locomotives at night would disturb their sleep. Similarly, they rejected a plan to maintain a regular Austrian military garrison, complaining quite practically that it would be difficult to hold on to female Gentile servants if there were soldiers around.

In the 1870s a fire broke out in Chrzanow at a time when the Austrian crown prince Rudolph was staying in Cracow. Many Jewish families, motivated by patriotism, had gone to Cracow to see the son of the emperor with their own eyes. They had locked their houses and taken the keys along. Thus the fire caused a dreadful amount of damage. This great fire came to serve as the central date for an informal local way of reckoning time. People would say that so-and-so had gotten married a year before the fire, or two years after the fire, and so forth.

[Page 9]

Until 1918 Chrzanow, along with the rest of Galicia, belonged to the Austrian Empire. The Jews there enjoyed complete civil equality, together with all of the peoples of the former monarchy.

Throughout all the years before World War I the Jews of Chrzanow lived in peace and comfort, and had a steady livelihood. Industry, capability, an entrepreneurial spirit, and commercial skills guaranteed them solid and secure economic positions in the city. Over the years, the relations between Jews and Poles were bearable. No extraordinary anti-Semitic incidents could be found in a chronicle of life in Chrzanow. Not until 1910 did Polish anti-Semitism first appear in the city, with the arrival of the educated priest and anti-Semite Dr. Kaminsky, who was the first to preach openly for economic combat against Jews.

A significant portion of the land in Chrzanow belonged to Jewish converts to Christianity, the family Lowenfeld. This family deserves description, because they had a share in the development of the city, and most recently had made a significant contribution to raising the cultural level of the Jewish youth.

Little is known about the original patriarch of the Lowenfelds, except that being a Jew, he maintained the commandment to buy an esrog on Sukkoth, and pronounce a blessing over it. The Lowenfeld family lived in a castle surrounded by a garden, in the very center of the city. They had kept their distance from other Jews even before their conversion. That is why Chrzanow Jews knew so little about life in their mansion, or about the reasons for their conversion.

After the Lowenfelds converted to the Christian faith, they behaved as loyal and pious Catholics, and they were more than once observed exhibiting the particular anti-Semitism of converts. (The oldest son, Dr. Wilhelm Lowenfeld, did not convert; he was already an adult when the conversion took place. He lived in Berlin and entered Hitler's crematoria as a Jew.) More remarkably, the mother, who had initiated the conversion of the entire family, became, as a Catholic, a vicious anti-Semite.

The important family members for our Jewish history were the two brothers, Adolf and Henryk. Adolf, who was well-known in town, was highly educated and was employed as a high school teacher of German language and literature. He translated the book of job into Polish, and in general was interested in Jewish issues-from an academic standpoint. One may safely assume that it was he who inspired his brother Henryk toward generous support of Jewish cultural institutions.

Henryk, or Heinz as he was generally called by Jews, inherited the greater part of his parents' fortune. He lived the Bohemian lifestyle among the theatrical circles in Paris, and his ambition was to make Chrzanow as fine and beautiful as possible. Toward that end he donated to the city the landscaped grounds that were named after him, the Alea Henryka, and which served the city as a beautiful spot for strolling and recreation.

Heinz also tried to promote a project aimed at establishing a community center in Chrzanow for all of the Jewish parties, from right to left. Unfortunately it is impossible to determine who was responsible for the failure to realize this excellent idea. At the time it was understood that the Jewish parties were unwilling or unable to unite

[Page 10]

behind this project because of narrow partisan ambitions and differences of opinion.

However, a short time later, Heinz did succeed in creating a non-party-affiliated popular library, with a rich catalog of Hebrew, Yiddish, Polish, and German books. The popular library was established when Heinz placed at the disposal of the national Jewish parties the huge sum of 5, 000 kroner (an enormous contribution at that time). Over the course of four decades this institution (Biblioteka Ludowa) served as a source of culture and knowledge for the Jewish youth of Chrzanow.

World War I although child's play when compared to World War II, nevertheless left its mark on the Jews of Chrzanow. Some fell at the front, and some were crippled for the rest of their lives. Many lost their entire fortune as a result of the war, while others became rich. There was also a certain spiritual transformation; the blind piety that had formerly been such a distinctive mark of Chrzanow loosened. Conservative attitudes toward people and the world gave way to more liberal and open views. The reason for this was that at the end of 1914, when the Russians came near the city, a large portion of the Jewish population left Chrzanow and settled in the larger cities of the empire, such as Vienna, Prague, Berlin and others.

This contact, short as it was, with the centers of civilization at that time, influenced the people in several ways. When they returned, they felt more connected to the world. For many young people, short modem clothes replaced traditional garments such as the shtreimel, kolpak, the long silk coats-something previously unimaginable in Chasidic homes. A certain change took place in the education of the youth as well. People turned to training in practical and useful trades, instead of keeping stores and traveling to fairs, which had become insecure occupations during the war years.

With the collapse of Austria and the establishment of the Polish state, the tragic story began in Chrzanow. Not only was there a pogrom, but Chrzanow had the “honor” of being the site of the first pogrom anywhere in liberated Poland.

At the end of October 1918, Jews in Chrzanow found out through covert channels that an action was being prepared. Since the Jewish national youth in Cracow had formed a self-defense organization, they were alerted to send a detachment to Chrzanow to defend Jewish lives and property. In fact, Cracow sent a band of ten men with arms-the youth of Chrzanow, unfortunately, were unarmed-but immediately upon their arrival, they were disarmed by the Polish authorities on trumped-up charges.

This pogrom, or rabunek as the Poles called it, had been prepared by the Polish authorities as though they were old hands at the trade. Virtually every class within the Polish population participated in the pogrom, from the highest-ranking judge (Court President Wierszbycki) down to the lowest-ranking policeman, from the Polish intelligentsia to the underworld. The saddest moment came on November 5, 1918, when the Polish workers of the Polish Socialist Party (P.P.S.) officially participated in this crude bacchanalia, and its leaders, including the future parliament deputy Zhulawski, who was an anti-Semite first and a Socialist second, played a destructive and traitorous role in the affair.

[Page 11]

The pogrom continued from Wednesday, November 5 until Thursday, November 6. Crowds came in from the surrounding villages with wagons; those who didn't have wagons carried empty sacks. All of the stores were broken into, and their stock placed in the street. The police saw to it that Jews were neither allowed out in the street, nor even permitted to look out of their windows. The sum result was tragic: two dead (Hershl Wiener and a young boy named Grubner) and several wounded, who remained crippled all their lives (such as Mrs. Rosenwasser and Reb Chaim Shlomo Rosenfeld). All of the stores were completely looted. Overnight, 70% of the Jews of Chrzanow became paupers. The economic catastrophe caused less anguish, however, than the moral pain of those who had been free citizens before, and who now had lost their rights.

For the sake of completeness it should be mentioned that some of the Jews of Chrzanow, especially the youth, acquitted themselves honorably against the looters. Two were dead and several badly wounded on the other side as well.

For some time after the pogrom, the Jews of Chrzanow were severely depressed. They simply no longer believed in the promise of a better tomorrow. They were right; their instincts did not deceive them. Some time later a new trouble began.' in the guise of the “ Hallerchiks, “ the Polish “ liberation army, “ which the anti-Semitic General Haller had assembled from the dregs of humanity overseas. Their first and most successful combat on arrival in the country was their battle against Jewish beards. They cut and tore beard and skin together from the faces of defenseless Jews. On the other hand, when they met a Jew without a beard, they would beat him mercilessly for “failure to have a beard.” These were the predecessors of the Nazis.

The finale of the ongoing “cold pogrom” carried out by the Hallerchiks was without question the attack on the study house. They burst into the large bethamidrash in Chrzanow, beating old men and young boys who sat studying volumes of the
Talmud. Afterward they forced everyone out of the study house, and with laughter and mockery drove horses into the holy place. This desecration continued for several weeks, while the old study house served as a horse barn in free and “glorious” Poland.

Fifteen years later, in 1934, Polish Fascist hooligans began a pogrom once again after the death of Pilsudski, but this time it was directed at the dead. In honor of the First of May they vandalized the cemetery in Chrzanow, uprooting a number of gravestones. At that time this was still a rare occurrence.

[Page 12]

THE ECONOMIC description of Chrzanow Jewry may be divided into two periods. The first part lasts until World War I At that time Chrzanow still belonged to Austria, and therefore had economic connections with the west. The second period begins with the establishment of the Polish state. At that time the economy turned its face toward the east.

The first period is more interesting to us, because it had a more exclusively Jewish character. The Austrian government placed no impediments in the way of Jewish involvement in trade and industry, so that Jews were able to develop their economic capacities and achieve a certain degree of well-being. Thanks to the results achieved by the Jews of Chrzanow before World War I, they were able to maintain their positions in independent Poland, despite heavy pressure from the Polish government and civil society.

As in many Jewish cities and towns, so too in Chrzanow, the sources of income for Jews were quite limited. We neither intend nor are we able to give, within the framework of this book, a full report about each branch of Jewish industry. We will, instead, suggest the particular character of our town in the following sections.

The fact that Chrzanow was better off and more advanced materially than other towns in Galicia was largely thanks to the Prussian merchants.

To a very great extent before 1914, and to a lesser extent later, in independent Poland, a large number of the Jews of Chrzanow moved to Upper Silesia, which was part of the Prussian region at that time, in search of a living. These Jews had neither their own businesses in town nor any particular artisan training, and therefore had no other way to support their families.

They would leave Chrzanow on Sunday and return on Friday. Most of them were fruit dealers. In time they got so proficient in the fruit business that they became the most important factor in this branch of the economy throughout Upper Silesia, and even as far as Breslau. Others took up peddling, selling assorted textiles and also finished clothes to workers and employees on the installment plan.

These Jews got along quite well with the German population. Their honesty and hard work earned them the trust of both the German and the Polish populations. A law from Bismarck's time was still in effect in Prussia, forbidding Galician citizens meaning, for this purpose, Jews-to sleep in Prussian territory without permission

[Page 13]

from the authorities; nevertheless, they got by with a good word at the right place, or by bribing the police. The authorities took cognizance of the fact that the Jews were both well-liked by the population and economically useful, and did not openly harass them. An elderly Jew from Chrzanow, Reb Lipe Hirshberg, relates the following:

In my time, that is, in the years before 1914, Jews from Chrzanow went to Prussia to do business. As a rule they were called Prusians. They left on Sunday evening, and returned Friday before candle-lighting time. Officially they were forbidden to spend the night in Prussia, but they did so on the sly. If a violator was caught, he was supposed to pay a fine of two marks. The most prominent of these merchants were the families Shmeker, Proloch, Soltis and others. They generally returned home Friday evening. They chartered a special train from the railroad company, which was called the Sabbath train; it ran from Katowice to Chrzanow. The Jews chartered this train summer and winter. The train always arrived one hour before candle lighting. I remember that when the train arrived in Chrzanow, the whole town was filled with joy. The cry, “The Prusakes train has arrived, rang throughout the entire city, and everyone was happy.

When one observed the everyday routine of these Jews in the Upper Silesia cities of Katowice, Myslowice, Boytn and Hindenburg, it made one's heart bleed. They had such a bitter and tiring life, struggling to make a living. They lived in dark cellar rooms and in narrow attics. The Jew who looked like a poor Gypsy in the streets of Prussia, looked like an aristocratic rabbi, dressed in dean clothes in Chrzanow during the Sabbaths and holy days. Since they earned a good living, the Prussian merchants in Chrzanow behaved like rich men: they gave to charity generously, supported Jewish institutions, helped out poor scholars, and so forth.

In general, Chrzanow was a prosperous city thanks to the bounty of the trade with Prussia, and this also explains the attraction of Chrzanow for Jews from elsewhere. Throughout the entire province, Chrzanow was known at that time as “little America.”

The clothing industry in Chrzanow began at the very beginning of the twentieth century. We aren't thinking here of the Jewish tailors like Reb Mordkhe Doydele, or Reb Yitschok Aron, the kind who worked by the light of a tallow candle, and who recited entire Psalms while they worked, or sang the melodies used during the High Holy Days. Jewish scholars like these were to be found in great numbers in other Galician and Polish towns-wherever Jews had settled. We mean here rather the clothing industry under modern conditions of production.

It was in Chrzanow that the so-called Vichres originally appeared. Nearly all of them lived on one street, which was called Vicharska Street. These people traveled to

[Page 14]

the larger cities, such as Vienna and Prague, bought up various articles of used clothing, brought them home, dyed and remodeled them. In time, seeing that there was money to be made, they began to make finished articles of clothing from pieces of new fabric. In addition to the local market, outerwear and underwear gradually began to be shipped and sold in the industrial regions of Merisch-Ostrow and Karvin.

Workshops were established which, lacking capital, were limited to subcontracting to entrepreneurs, who sold the finished goods in the industrial regions.

The tailors-both masters and apprentices- were poorly organized. This led to their exploitation by the merchants and exporters. Because of their bad economic situation, many of the tailors emigrated in search of better living conditions.

The first place the emigrating tailors went to was Berlin. The first pioneers who arrived in Berlin quickly worked their way up to a better situation on the strength of their diligence, competence, and willingness to work twelve-hour days. They opened the way for more tailors from Chrzanow to go to the same place.

In Berlin, the tailors from Chrzanow created the basis for the German clothing industry. Thanks to them, the Germans began exporting clothing to England, India, and South America. It is worth mentioning that the Berlin police force understood that any especially competent tailor must surely be from Chrzanow. The Chrzanow tailors in Berlin did not forget their home town. They created a Chrzanow Society in Berlin in 1918, which did a great deal to help the Jews of Chrzanow as they arrived in Berlin, and which also raised money to benefit the existing philanthropic institutions in Chrzanow.

Tailors from Chrzanow also emigrated throughout the world, to places like Paris, New York, Montevideo, and others.

Thus it is clear that the needle trades in Chrzanow were well established, flourishing, and ambitious. Before World War I Chrzanow aimed to catch up with the Czech town of Prosnitz, which was famous in pre-World War I Austria for its highly developed men's and women's clothing industry. These Czech-Germans actually were affected by the competition of the Chrzanow tailors.

After the Polish state came into existence, the tailors of Chrzanow had their first real opportunity to show their competence and their ability to produce on a much larger scale. With their endurance and industry they brought Chrzanow to the point where it was independent of such larger clothing industry centers as Brzezin and Tarnow And until the outbreak of Hitler's war, Chrzanow was one of the most important customers for the textile manufacturers of Lodz, Bialystok, Tomashow, and other large mills..

A special economic niche was occupied by the money changers of Chrzanow. Since the city lay near the German border, and previously had been near the Russian border as well, certain Jews of Chrzanow would accompany the Prussian merchants at the beginning of the week to the border regions around Myslowice, Katowice, and

[Page 15]

Sczakowa. Each carried a leather pack on his back, which contained currency from almost every country in the world. Each of these men was a kind of walking exchange bureau. Although the large banking houses maintained exchange bureaus at the train stations, most of the business of exchanging currency was in the hands of Jews. This demonstrates that Jews enjoyed a good deal of trust in matters relating to currency exchange.

Naturally, the busiest season was the summer, when international traffic going to the Austrian and German spas was heavy. At that time the money changers would ride in the trains with the passengers, and exchange money according to the daily exchange rates. The stations themselves were extremely busy at the beginning and end of the summer. The traffic consisted mostly of Polish agricultural workers who were brought from the impoverished Polish countryside to do seasonal work in Germany. At those times the money changers had their hands full.

Just as with the merchants, there were categories of money changers. Most of them looked for customers among whatever passengers happened to be traveling through, and who might need to exchange money. Jews made enough to live on in this fashion. But there were also those who had an established clientele. The latter included wealthy landowners, officials, and international playboys, who spent money casually. And the money changers who had the “better customers” grew wealthy from this trade.

Various anecdotes were told about a well-known money changer from the previous generation, Reb Manes Shneider. Among his clients was the popular King Nikita of Montenegro, the father-in-law of the Italian King Victor Emanuel, and of the famous anti-Semite, the Russian Grand Prince Nikolai Nikolaievitsh, who played a significant role as a European politician and engaged in intrigues among the various royal courts. This king, who often traveled between Rome, Vienna, and St. Petersburg, insisted on having his money changed only by Reb Manes. When he arrived at the border, the king would summon Reb Manes to his private car, take care of their financial business, and then seek his advice concerning world politics. This Reb Manes Shneider was later robbed and murdered by unknown bandits in a border town.

With the fall of Austria, exchange as a form of commerce also virtually disappeared, and many of the former money changers took up the rather dirty business of lending money out at interest. They were called chashtas (loan sharks), which was virtually a curse word in Chrzanow at the time.

It may seem curious, but nevertheless it is a fact that because of its geographical situation as a border city between Tsarist Russia and free Austria, Chrzanow had a large number of traditional Jewish teachers.

During the Russian anti-Jewish actions in the 1880s, as well as during the years 1905-1906, masses of Jews escaped the pogroms and arrived at Chrzanow. Those

[Page 16]

who could afford the trip or who had relatives in America, continued further. But the mass of poor and hopeless Jews, who possessed no material goods, remained in Chrzanow. Since many of them were scholars, they settled there and became teachers. These Jews initiated a certain revival, and influenced several generations of students.

Forty or fifty years ago (around 1900) it was impossible to imagine a boy who had reached the age of Talmud study who hadn't spent several semesters with Reb Yosl Lipe, Reb Shloyme Kotsker, Reb Hersh Melamed, Reb Nute Dayan, or one of the other “Polish” teachers. While not all of the teachers were from the other side of the border, the majority of them, in fact, were not from Chrzanow. This diversity had a certain cosmopolitan influence on the Jewish youth of Chrzanow.

We cannot deal with the subject of teachers without describing Reb Volf Shor, who was well-loved by everyone and who was a pedagogue in the fullest sense of the word. He wasn't someone who turned to teaching because he had nothing else to do; rather, he was a teacher with character and a strong sense of responsibility. Born and raised in Chrzanow, he had a profound knowledge of the German classical literature, and was at the same time a traditional Jewish scholar. In contrast to other teachers, he placed the greatest emphasis in his teaching on the Bible, the Prophets, and the Writings, accomplishing wonders. Most of his students were the children of simple Jews and artisans, because the Chasidim harassed him, spreading the rumor that he taught Moses Mendelssohn's Biur “P22” as a commentary to the Bible. But it was an uncontested fact that when the Sabbath arrived, all of his students, even the ones with “rocks in their heads,” knew the weekly Torah reading along with the Haftorah like the backs of their hands. His students who are still alive today can testify to that.

It is beyond our scope here to describe all of the occupations of the Jews of Chrzanow. We only want to demonstrate that they were hardly idlers. Characters on the model of Sholem-Aleychem's Menachem Mendl were hardly to be found in Chrzanow. There wasn't a single area of the economy in which Jews were not heavily represented. Jews in Chrzanow made their mark in trade, industry and as artisans. With their hard work they made Chrzanow a major center of trade and production that was known throughout the business world.

Furthermore, aside from their competence and success, they always remained true to Judaism and the Torah, their tradition, and their ways of dressing.

In contrast to other Polish Jewish towns, Chrzanow was unusual in that its scholars in Rabbinic learning, its pious and God-fearing Jews were not necessarily the most fiery Chasidim, but also simple merchants and storekeepers, tailors and shoemakers, artisans and horse traders, and so forth. There were several examples. Reb Moyshe Hochbaum, the well-known scholar and town preacher of Chrzanow, was the son of a shoemaker and himself a confectioner. Another shoemaker's son became the rabbi of the nearby town of Kalwarie, Reb Avrom Neuhof. Reb Elye Shuster, also popular, repaired old shoes by day, while in the morning and at night he taught a Talmud class to older men in town. Reb Itshele Weitzenblum, who was a

[Page 17]

tailor, a scholar to be reckoned with, and a man with a record of good works, was the preacher at the Psalm Society, and simultaneously the First Officer of the burial society. Reb Zismel Shames, the secretary of the town study house, knew the entire Mishna by heart. Dr. Itzchak-Schwartzbart, who became the pride of Polish Jewry, was an innkeeper's son. Reb Yukl Bochner, a horse trader, a Jew with aristocratic manners, and a philanthropist, was the chairman of the Jewish community for many years. An optician, Reb Avrom Hirsh Reifer, was a Belzer Chasid and a scholar. These examples illuminate the essence of Chrzanow Jewry.

After the death of Reb Shloymele b/m the first rabbi in Chrzanow, the rabbinical post remained vacant for many years, until a decision was made to fill it with Reb David Halbershtam b/m the son of the author of the revered Divrey Chaim. For the first Sabbath in his new position, Reb David was accompanied to Chrzanow by his father, the Rabbi of Sanz, Reb Chaim b/m There was still no railroad station in Chrzanow at that time, so the community ordered a carriage, driven by two Chrzanow coachmen, to bring the rabbis from the nearest railroad station at Trzebinia. During the trip, the two coachmen sitting next to each other in front argued over a particular passage in the commentary of Tosafot on the Talmudic tractate Sanhedrin. Overhearing this dispute, Reb Chaim said to his son, “You hear, Dovidl? You'd better work hard. If the coachmen are such scholars, can you imagine how brilliant the bourgeoisie must be?”

When Dr. Natan Birnbaum b/m (Matisyohu Akhar) was in Chrzanow in the year 1913, he related an anecdote that illustrated his personal impression of Jewish Chrzanow.

As is well known, Dr. Birnbaum was quite distant from Judaism and from Jewish life in general in his younger years. Living in Vienna, he had only the slightest connection with the Eastern Jews. Even more: as he expressed it at the time, he felt a certain contempt toward the “unproductive Ostjuden.” Once, however, as he was traveling through Chrzanow on the Sabbath, he looked through the window of the railroad car and saw something that radically changed his attitude toward Eastern Jews. He saw a coachman-from Chrzanow, dressed in his Sabbath clothes-a silk overcoat, with a broad silk belt wrapped around his waist and a shtreimel on his headleading his horse to the town stream to drink. This image, Matisyohu Akhar declared, motivated him to become more interested in the Jewish question in Eastern Europe.

The observance of the Sabbath by the Jews of Chrzanow is extremely interesting. Despite the fact that Jews were in almost complete control of the economy, not once did a Jew keep his store or workshop open in public on the Sabbath. If other cities kept the Sabbath, Chrzanow kept the “Sabbath of Sabbaths.” Even the Gentiles had to rest on the Jewish Sabbath. The synagogues and study houses were packed with congregants. A sublime atmosphere reigned outside and at home, and Dr. Chaim Zhitlovsky put it well during his visit to Chrzanow before World War I: “Jews, you should be proud of your city. It is the Jerusalem of Galicia.”

[Page 18]

JUST WITHOUT A DOUBT the high point in the rabbinical history of Chrzanow is occupied by its first and most significant rabbi, Reb Shloymele b/m. In fact it can fairly be said that Chrzanow's history as a Jewish city began only when it hired its first rabbi. The fact that Torah and work went hand in hand in Chrzanow is largely the result of the efforts of its beloved and unforgettable rabbi.

Reb Shloymele was born in Olkusz. His father was Reb Moyshe Charif, one of the last members of the Council of the Four Lands. His name itself (“charif” means someone with a sharp mind) bears witness to his greatness in Torah. As a member of the Council of the Four Lands, which met at the major fairs at set times, he played a considerable role in regulating the religious and social life of the Jews in Poland, Lithuania, and other areas.

Little is known about Reb Moyshe Charif's activities or his influence, because he was an extremely humble man all his life. He sought no publicity while he was alive, nor did he leave behind any writings that might have cast more light on his life and works. His most characteristic traits were modesty and simplicity. He didn't want to turn the Torah into a source of income. His son inherited these qualities from him.

While still a boy of eight or nine years, Reb Shloymele was noted for his diligence and his straightforward approach to study. An enemy of artificial disputation, he always sought the clearest and simplest interpretations, rather than the twisted, uncertain strategies of interpretation that did so much harm to the minds of the yeshiva students and those who sat in the study houses at the time.

It is said that one time his father, Reb Moyshe Charif, attended a very long session of the Council of the Four Lands at a fair in a large city in Poland. The session dragged on because the leading scholars present got involved in a dispute concerning a certain point in the Talmud. They couldn't determine the plain sense of the text, and eventually Reb Moyshe Charif called out to them: “You know what, gentlemen? I have a nine-year-old son at home in Olkusz. With his brilliant mind, he'll get us out of this confusion.” They immediately decided to hire the swiftest pair of horses, so that Reb Moyshe could ride home to Olkusz to ask the boy what the proper meaning of the text was, and all the scholars stayed at the fair to wait for the answer.

Arriving home at Olkusz in the middle of the night, Reb Moyshe immediately woke up his Shloymele, who was sound asleep near the warm oven. After the boy had washed his hands and rubbed his sleepy eyes, his father opened up the Talmud

[Page 19]

to the correct page, and asked the boy to explain the passage which had so confused the members of the Council. The boy scanned the entire page of the Talmud, and opened his eyes wide, as if to ask his father, “What's so hard to understand here?”

At that, his father rewarded him with a resounding slap and angrily said to his son: “Several luminaries of the Torah are sitting at the fair struggling to understand such a complicated topic, and for you there's no difficulty whatsoever?”

The nine-year-old boy replied: “You see, Father, it would indeed be a difficult question, unless you remember what the Talmud said four pages earlier. If you compare the two, you will see that the meaning is clear and simple, and there's no need to apply fancy interpretations to it.”

His father, abashed, kissed his child on the forehead and said, “May his kind multiply in Israel.”

Of Reb Shloymele's earlier years, all we know is that he studied with the early Chasidic Rebe, Reb Shmelke in Nikolsburg, and that the “Seer” of Lublin was his closest friend. He was a unique personality, remarkable for his unusual modesty. A century and a half ago, already a well-known star scholar in Poland, he did not seek to assume a rabbinical pulpit, but instead decided to learn a trade, so that he could support himself without depending on the organized community and those who collected its revenues. In fact, he worked as a goldsmith in his earlier years, and he supported his wife and children from his income at this trade.

Having such a great scholar among them, the prominent men in town approached him to ask that he become their rabbi. However, Reb Shloymele categorically refused, explaining that he didn't want the Torah to become a source of material benefit.

Realizing that they wouldn't get anywhere with Reb Shloymele, the committee turned to his wife, the future rebetsin Hese, trying to convince her to influence her husband to accept the rabbinical position. Like every wife who wants to have a rabbi as a husband, she criticized him sharply for his stubbornness, even threatening to disrupt the tranquility of their home. One time Reb Shloymele responded to her with the famous pun, “You should love your work, even if it leads you to oppose the rebetsin.

It wasn't until the committee approached Reb Shmelke, who ordered his student to take the rabbinical post in Chrzanow and backed up the order with his own rabbinical authority, that Reb Shloymele agreed to become the rabbi of the city.

Reb Shloymele's greatness was centered in his simplicity. He had no pretensions to establish a rebe's court, nor did he consider the rabbinate to be a position with a status above that of ordinary people. In contrast to his comrades, such as the abovementioned Seer of Lublin, Reb Kalman of Cracow, the author of the Meor veShermesh; and Reb Berish Ospitziner, he led a poor and modest life, following the authentic way of the founder of Chasidism, Reb Yisroel Baal Shem Toy. Like the Baal Shem Tov he was involved with the simple people, the masses. It is well known that he even helped establish a congregation of completely unlettered men in Chrzanow, so that they wouldn't have to feel inferior to the Talmud scholars in the study house.

Reb Shloymele and his family lived in an area that later became the back room of

[Page 20]

the study house. He sat studying the Torah day and night, carrying on extensive correspondence with the Torah luminaries of his generation, especially with the abovementioned Meor veShemesh of Cracow. The following legend has been handed down, and it can serve as a measure of his influence on the Jews of Chrzanow and their indestructible faith in him:

One Friday before dawn, Reb Shloymele stood at the entrance to the study house, holding a letter addressed to the Meor veShemesh in Cracow (about 40 kilometers from Chrzanow). A young boy arrived just then with his tefilin under his arm, planning to pray with the first minyan. (The boy was the grandfather of Moritz Feltsher.) Reb Shloymele said to him, “Be so good, child, as to go to Reb Kalman in Cracow and hand this letter to him. Wait for Reb Kalman to write his reply on the other side of the paper. Meanwhile, I'll hold onto your tefilin until you return.” The boy didn't ask any questions. He went to Cracow. Returning with the reply, the messenger found Reb Shloymele still standing at the same place, and the boy still managed to pray with a minyan...

Despite his diligence as a scholar, Reb Shloymele devoted a great deal of time and energy to community affairs, especially charity. He often made the rounds of the homeowners to collect money, so that he could distribute it among those who were ashamed to ask for money themselves.

Honored and esteemed by the Talmud scholars of the time, and beloved by the masses, Reb Shloymele also had a great deal of influence on the noblemen and peasants in the countryside surrounding Chrzanow. According to various legends, the Gentiles of the area had a great deal of respect for the holy rabbi, and his word was law even to them.

His modesty and honesty were legendary. His creed was that the Torah should not be exploited for material benefit. For Reb Shloymele, “the Torah for its own sake” was the highest value in life. He did not publish his letters and Torah insights, preferring instead to distribute them among his children. The extent to which Reb Shloymele refused to view the rabbinate as a source of income may be seen from his will, which he left to his children and his children's children: he forbade them to become rabbis. Although some of his sons and grandsons became major scholars, they were true to the will of their great father and grandfather, until they died during the days of Hitler.

Reb Shloymele died in Chrzanow on Lag Be'Omer in the year 1819. Thousands of Jews from Chrzanow and from other areas near and far would gather together from time to time to pour out their bitter hearts at his grave, weep their troubles away, and gather hope that they would be helped by Divine providence thanks to the merit of Reb Shloymele, b/m.

After the death of the great Reb Shloymele, Chrzanow did not have an easy time

[Page 21]

finding a new rabbi. Since, in accordance with the terms of Reb Shloymele's will, none of his sons would take over the rabbinate, Chrzanow was without a rabbi for roughly two decades. The legal functions of a rabbi were carried out by the chief judge, Reb Nechemye Pozner b/m.

During this time Sanz also cast its influence over Chrzanow. Clearly, personal factors were no longer decisive in this process, but rather the “court” of Sanz. Thus, the vacant rabbinical post in Chrzanow went to the first rabbi of the Halbershtam dynasty, Reb David b/m.

In contrast to Reb Shloymele's rabbinical tenure, Reb David's may be described as an unhappy experience, despite the fact that Reb David was a great authority in the rabbinic world. As the son of the Divrey Chaim, the famous rabbi of Sanz, Reb Chaim Halbershtam, he lacked the pride and faith in himself which his great father had possessed. He wanted to copy Sanz, and what came out was indeed no more than a mere copy-in a poor edition, at that.

While Reb David occupied the rabbinical position in Chrzanow, a major conflict raged between Sanz Chasidirn on one hand, and Radomsker Chasidirn on the other-or more accurately, between Radomsker Chasidirn and Reb David. Apparently this dispute was based on a local conflict, because as everyone knew, the Sanzer Rabbi had written an introduction to the book called Tiferes Shlomo, written by the founder of Radomsk Chasidism; in addition to which, the son of the first Radomsker Rebe, the author of the Chesed l'Avrohom, was a devoted follower of the Sanzer Rebe, and often went to Sanz for the Sabbath. The dispute reached its climax during an affair involving Reb Heshe Gross. One of the most respected citizens of Chrzanow, this scholarly Jew owned the tobacco monopoly at the time, and was a respected Radomsker Chasid. The well-known writer Gershom Bader describes the Reb Heshe Gross affair in his memoirs, published in the New York Morning-Journal in 1938. 1 cite from memory:

“I was born in Oswiecim. At the age of five, my father said to me: 'My child, I want to take you to Chrzanow. I'm planning to travel there, and there you'll see something that's a once in a lifetime occurrence. And since I don't know whether you'll ever have the chance to witness such a scene in your lifetime, I want you to see it as a child.'

“In Chrzanow there was a Jew by the name of H. Gross. During the bitter battle between Sanz and Sadigura, this Jew had expressed sympathy for the Sadigurer, using an impolite epithet against Sanz. This led to the man's being excommunicated by the rabbi, Reb David. This Jew suffered greatly from the ban, because according to the law, Jews were not allowed to have anything to do with him. Even his own wife and children were forced to keep their distance from him. In order to annul a ban of excommunication, it is necessary that the excommunicated person undergo certain public forms of humiliation, by means of which he is freed of his sin, or whatever caused the ban. The day my father took me along to Chrzanow was the day H. Gross was to undergo these humiliations. The

[Page 22]

streets were packed with people. Everyone wanted to be in front, to get a better view of the excommunicated man. My father held me up in his arms so that I could see better. It was a terrible picture. A Chasidic Jew came out of a house; he was pale and terrified, and his face was full of sorrow. He wore no hat, and had nothing on his head but a yarmulke. He had no shoes, only socks, like on Tisha B'Av. In this fashion the Jew walked from his house to the large synagogue. All the way boys threw stones at him, while the adults shrank away from him, in order to avoid proximity. I clearly saw him being struck by a stone in the face, and his face covered with blood. As if the stone had struck someone else entirely, the Jew continued to the synagogue. I don't know what happened in the synagogue, because my father couldn't get inside with me.”

This event ignited a burning enmity toward Reb David on the part of the Radomsk Chasidim, which was inherited by his son, who took over his rabbinical post. The affair of Reb Heshe Gross drew out like a red thread through further disputes, as we will see later.

Reb David b/mlater suffered considerable troubles and anguish on account of various libels that were brought against him to the authorities, stemming from the excommunication episode. He had to hide for a certain time, because plans to put him in prison were discovered. It was said that a special cell had already been prepared, cleaned and whitewashed for the rabbi, but influential Jews and a huge sum of money saved Reb David from this disgrace.

Several years before he died, Reb David was fated to suffer another kind of anguish. When the rabbinical post in the nearby town of Jaworzno became free, Reb David allowed his son (Reb Moyshe the Rabbi's son, who, incidentally, was a brother-in-law of Zionist leader Ahad Ha'Am), to convince him to place his grandson (Reb Moyshe's son) in the position, despite the fact that a highly respected Talmud scholar, Reb Vove Rosenblum b/m, was also a candidate for the post. Reb David wanted to force the acceptance of his grandson Reb Yosef Elimelech as the new rabbi, and he rode to Jaworzno to influence the outcome of the affair. But once there, Reb David realized that he had not considered public opinion in the community. Jaworzno wouldn't let itself be bullied into a decision, and Reb Vove was elected by a large majority.

On the Sabbath when Reb David was in Jaworzno, his supporters stole the Torah scrolls from the local study house, so that his opponents would not be able to read the weekly Torah portion. And, even more shameful, the Torah scrolls were later found hidden in someone's bed.

Reb David b/m, died in the year 1894. The only one of his sons who was considered as a possible successor to the rabbinate in Chrzanow was Reb Naftoli b/m, the most

[Page 23]

worthy of the several brothers. During his lifetime, Reb David had also expressed his preference for Reb Naftoli. But then an incident took place that caused much bad feeling in town. A dispute broke out that did not reflect well on the Jewish city of Chrzanow.

The previously mentioned Reb Yosef Elimelech had been his grandfather's favorite while his grandfather was still alive. Unusually gifted, he was a fine speaker, an extraordinary leader of communal prayer, and on top of everything, quite wealthy. Concisely-Torah and greatness in one. Reb Yosef Elimelech, whom Reb David had sought to proclaim rabbi of Jaworzno, allowed himself to be called “Our Teacher and Master, “ and strove to obtain the Chrzanow rabbinate after his grandfather's death. Thanks to his personal qualities Reb Yosef Elimelech quickly gained a party of supporters in town, among whom were the Radomsk Chasidim, who were still motivated by their enmity to Reb David and consequently to his son Reb Naftoli as well.

The dispute over the rabbinical position in Chrzanow between Reb Naftoli on the one hand; and Reb Yosef Elimelech on the other, took on a very dramatic character, especially because of the intervention of the Shinewer Rabbi, the author of the Divrey Yechezkel, a brother of Reb David who was very famous at that time.

The Shinewer Rabbi was on Reb Naftoli's side. Of course, the Shinewer Rabbi's word carried a great deal of authority, and in the beginning it seemed that Reb Naftoli would be victorious. But Reb Yosef Elimelech's supporters didn't remain idle, either. They used freely their most formidable weapon-money, of which Reb Yosef Elimelech had plenty.

According to Austrian law in force at that time, a rabbi could not be elected unless he had at least an elementary school diploma. In other cities the authorities overlooked this detail during rabbinical elections. In Chrzanow, however, the deciding factor turned out to be not the Jewish scholarship of the various candidates, but rather the question of the elementary school diploma. This, in turn, was the result of the explanations that one of the sides provided to the authorities.

According to the election results, and by bribing the necessary parties, Reb Yosef Elimelech emerged the apparent victor. But although the election was considered valid, the dispute did not end there; on the contrary, it became even sharper. The following description by our fellow townsman, Lipa Hirshberg, illustrates the forms the dispute took:

“During the dispute over the rabbinate, or as it was called, 'the great dispute,' I was barely nine years old. I sat at the third Sabbath meal in the great synagogue with my father, may he rest in peace, who was on Reb Yosef Elimelech's side. We were together with a crowd of Jews, singing religious melodies in the darkness. Suddenly stones began flying through the window, and a crowd of supporters of the other side broke into the study house shouting. A fight broke out, just as if -(pardon the comparison) -we had been in a tavern. Many heads were bashed, beards torn, shtreimelech stepped on, and silk overcoats ripped. There was such a

[Page 24]

commotion that to this very day, I can't understand how this could happen among Jews... “

Since neither side was willing to surrender, the community decided to keep the peace by paying salaries to both rabbis. By law Reb Yosef Elimelech was the official rabbi of Chrzanow, but the townspeople themselves considered both Reb Naftoli and Reb Elimelech to be rabbis with equal status.

In time the two rabbis divided the spoils between themselves-that is, both of them had their respective spheres of influence among their loyal supporters.

This “dual rabbinate” continued for about a decade, until the untimely death of Reb Yosef Elimelech b/m.

Reb Yosef Elimelech, whom nature had blessed with physical beauty and other personal advantages, and who in addition was very wealthy, immediately won the hearts of the people of Chrzanow. Not only his supporters but even his opponents became fond of him and had great respect for him. When Reb Yosef Elimelech b/m died in 1907, still a young man and under tragic circumstances, all the Jews of Chrzanow, without exception, mourned for him honestly and properly.

In praise of the Jews of Chrzanow, it must be said that they learned a great deal from this dispute over the rabbinate. They drew the proper conclusions from their experience, for after the death of Reb Yosef Elimelech, the family proposed that his youngest son Leybele be elected in his stead. However, the city remembered its old wound, and didn't support this suggestion.

Reb Naftoli b/m thus became the only rabbi of Chrzanow, although he was not recognized by law as the rabbi of the town.

Reb Naftoli died in the year 1924. His son was named to replace him while the father was still alive.

Rabbi Mendl, with the disputes of his father and grandfather behind him, consolidated the rabbinate of Chrzanow. He was intelligent and energetic, and he knew how to carry out his responsibilities while displaying sympathy for all sides. During his tenure, the old enmity between the Radomsker and Sanzer Chasidim cooled down considerably.

The last and most tragic rabbi of Chrzanow was fated to join his entire congregation when they went as martyrs to Auschwitz during the time of Hitler, in 1942. May the Lord avenge their blood!

  Chrzanow, Poland     Yizkor Book Project     JewishGen Home Page

Copyright © 1999-2025 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 20 Oct 2024 by LA