Translated by Judie Ostroff Goldstein
As for Czyzewo, exactly as for the other villages around it, there is absolutely nothing to make their existence known to the world at large. Czyzewo did not give the world any famous people, no great intellectuals who made the world better for humanity. But Czyzewo, more than her neighboring villages, was known throughout the world due to pogroms and tsitsis [four tassels that hang from four cornered garments].
However it is difficult to cite a lot of dates for the pogroms that were perpetrated in Czyzewo (except for the last one in 1937 and the one four years later during the destruction of the Czyzewer Jewish population by the murderous Hitlerites and their Polish assistants). But zaydes [grandfathers] knew and told us that in the last years of the 1700's, during Kosciuski's reign, there were fights around Czyzewo and the Jewish population paid
with innocent blood. Later, in 1836-1838, during the uprising in Poland, again innocent Jewish blood was spilled. Generally the fear of a pogrom, that would erupt like a gray storm from time to time, always hung over the Czyzewo Jews.
I do not exaggerate when I say that the tistsis production in Czyzewo was one of the oldest and only occupation that had through the decades developed and served a world market.
As a matter of fact, in 1913 Reb Jechusze Kanet zl [of blessed memory] a grandson of a Czyzewer tsitsis maker, died in Jerusalem at the age of one hundred. At the beginning of the 1930's, Reb Josef Kanet died in America, a younger brother of reb Jechusze Kanet, a grandson of a tsitsis maker. This is sufficient proof of generation after generation producing tsitsis in Czyzewo.
|Reb Jechusze Kanet,
the first pioneer from Czyzewo,
who went to Israel died in 5673 (1913)
The largest market for Czyzewo tsitsis was, until the First World War in 1914 Russia. Afterwards it was America, Canada, England and Poland. Daily hundred poods (a Russian weight measure equaling about 16 kilos) of tsitsis, packed in small bales were shipped from Czyzewo. Naturally one tsitsis maker must not know the address of the second's merchant. This secret was well guarded by the expediters, because this is how they made their living.
It is understood from the name tsitsis maker that this article was not made in a mechanized factory.
According to Jewish law it is forbidden to use any means other than man's strength to make tsitsis (not even any women). At every stage in the complexity of making tsitsis the worker must always keep in mind that his work is l'shem tsitsis. [for the sake of the commandment of tzitzis] Also before beginning work he had to say the following verse: Harini ose mlakha zo, l'shem mitzvah tsitsis. [I am doing this work for the sake of the commandment of tsitsis] Later on the rabbis declared it legal to use women for specific production jobs, for example, to wash the threads and to gather the tsitsis in small bundles of 16 threads per bundle (12 threads and four threads shamas [rabbi's personal assistant]).
The only tsitsis maker in Czyzewo who did not deviate from the principle man's strength was Reb Szmulke Fiszel's (for many decades was the leader of morning prayers in the synagogue during the Days of Awe [from New Year through Day of Atonement]). People said that Reb Szmulke used only wool that he himself sheared from the peasants' sheep in making his tsitsis. He made the tsitsis by himself, without any help. His tsitsis were sold only to selected Jews such as rebbes [Hasidic rabbi, teacher] and rabbis and for a much higher price than those for export.
Many years ago, the only ones to produce tsitsis in Czyzewo were the Kanet family and Reb Szmulke zl. The Kanet family employed workers who years later began producing these articles themselves. Most of them remained small enterprises except Icze Mejer Parizer who progressed with the help of his mother Chana Liba the wadding maker and his father-in-law Reb Jidel Stoliar. He became the strongest competition for the Kanet family. Then came Reb Jechusze Nisen
Kupiec zl who took over from his uncle Reb Szmulke zl. There were also small tsitsis makers such as Reb Szepsl zl, an uncle of Josef Kanet, Reb Mejer Wengerka a brother-in-law, Symcha the tsitsis macher and Josel Zanwel Lejb's [son] Kotliarek.
But the time also brought permission to use machines that were run by manpower, beginning with spinning the wool to finishing the threads (naturally the machine produced tsitsis came out much nicer than those made by hand). The first spinning machine was used in Ciechanowiec, about 20 versts [Russian measure of distance about .66 of a mile] from Czyzewo. There was no train going there - only Reb Lejzor with his horse and wagon. This was the only means of transporting the wool to Ciechanowiec and bringing back the spun threads for the tsitsis makers.
During the First World War, when the machines together with the entire city of Ciechanowiec burned down, Josl-Zanwel-Lejb's fixed up a spinning machine in Czyzewo along with the other machines that were necessary, a carder and a Tsezvooker. The force that moved the tsevooker was Reb Szmulje whose origin nobody knew and nobody was interested in knowing. Every tsitsis maker used his own strength to turn the carding machine. But for the spinning machine there was only one specialist in Czyzewo, Reb Lejzor (Mont) one of Icze Mejer Parizer's brothers-in-law.
In between, the tsitsis makers used a hand machine that was made up of a large wheel. The wool was carded and then
spun on the wheel. The large spinner machine could produce 60 threads at a time, the hand machine only one at a time.
In the 1930's, Pinie Zysman, a son-in-law of Josef tistsis macher fixed up a spinning machine and the other necessary machines to occupy his brother Meszel.
After the First World War when Russia was behind the iron curtain, the largest market for tsitsis became America. But they were not shipped directly there from the producers. Religious article merchants came to Czyzewo and bought the tsistsis and they in turn had them transported them everywhere where Jews were found.
In 1922 Mendl Kanet's family went to Israel and produced tsitsis for Israel and a small amount was also
|Reb Josef Kanet,
lived to a very old age,
died in New York
sent to America. In 1935 Jechusze Nisen Kupiec's family arrived in Israel and also made tsitsis. Josef Kanet left Czyzewo for America and also kept busy with tsitsis.
There were already tsitsis makers in Israel, but from beginning to end, on a very primitive scale. The Czyzewer tsitsis makers who moved to Israel fixed up spinning machines as in Czyzewo. The machines made the work easier and faster and also produced a nicer product. The Czyzewer tsitsis as they were called there were much sought after and carried a higher price.
All the above mentioned tsitsis makers are no longer among the living. Reb Josef Kanet died in America. Reb Mendl Kanet died in Tel-Aviv. Reb Jechusze Nisen Kupiec died in Petach-Tikva. All of them died old men except for Reb Mendl a son-in-law of Reb Jechusze Nisen.
Murdered tsitsis makers during the destruction of Czyzewo were:
With the death of the murdered tistis-machers, the world renowned production of Czyzewer tsitsi also died. Their deathbed ended the inheritance of many generations, from parent to child and relative. Their merit will not depart from us forever.
Reb Mendl Tsitsi Maker (Kanet)
When I knew him he was already middle-aged man. He was a tall man who always had a smile on his face that was encircled by a long, black beard that ended in two points. When people saw him
in the street, they noticed an intense man full of energy.
I don't remember when it was, or what he said that first time, Rosheshone [Rosh Hashana, Jewish New Year], or Yonkipper [Yom Kippur Day of Atonement], as he sang with his sweet, sincere tenor Anaim
|Reb Mendl Kanet,
called Reb Mendl tistsis macher,
died 21 Adar 5700 (1940) in Tel-Aviv
Zimros at the start of prayers and soon after adon olum and ygadol elokhim chai before ending with blessings that were accompanied by baruch hu v'baruch shmo and amen and it echoed all around the walls of the synagogue.
Standing at the cantor's desk and wearing a white kitl [[white linen robe worn on solemn occasions], wrapped in a large wool talis [prayer shawl] thrown over his head, he face shone like the sun. He stood there firm and tall like a pine tree and for a long time and slowly moved. You could hear every word he said.
In the jam-packed synagogue
it was quiet. The congregation was waiting to hear more of Reb Mendl's voice.
The congregation soon began praying. The voices, full of sincerity, carried throughout the synagogue like a storm driven wave and the people seemed to move like a forest that sways in a light wind.
It soon became quiet again when Reb Mendl continued the service. And so it continued, with each chapter until he began the last verse with a weeping plea and a shiver ran through everyone like a lightning storm
|Rojza-Leja, Mendel Kanet's wife,
who was a real helpmate and carried the yoke with him
to make a living. She died 14 Kislev 5705  in Tel-Aviv.
By her side is her daughter Chawa, today in Israel Chawa Vitriol
through the body. It made hearts heavy and tears flowed.
Each year when the Days of Awe approach, I feel that holy tremor and hear the words exactly as if I was hearing them from Reb Mendl.
The Story Of A Father's Legacy To His Sons
Reb Mendl Kanet was not considered a rich man from the shtetl, but he led a nice life. Any hungry guest coming into his house left sated and with a contribution in his pocket.
But he was not satisfied with giving help accidentally to guests and poor people. He always knew who was in need and too ashamed to make known his poverty. They would rather go hungry than stretch out their hands for help. But Reb Mendel's watchful eye discovered these poor families and gathered money, clothing and other necessities, such as wood and potatoes that he would anonymously provide to those in need of them. Mostly those who received these goods had no idea who had helped them or from where the help came.
To help a needy sufferer this is the highest basis of the Torah, which Reb Mendl inculcated in his children as well other good habits and Jewish customs. People would often see one of his daughters, together with a friend, carrying full aprons with various food products (it was not the fashion then to carry hand baskets), such as honey, sugar, beans, kasha, bread and even
meat or potatoes in sacs, thrown over their shoulders. They gathered the food stuffs from the rich and middle class houses and then carried it to poor families.
So that is how his daughters lived during their youth. And that is what they still do today.
In 1914 Reb Mendl left for America. His family stayed in Czyzewo. The First World War and the German occupation severed their contact. His family endured difficult times.
But even though they were having a hard time, they did not forget to provide poor families with the necessities of life.
In 1921Reb Mendl returned to Czyzewo and due to the distinct signs of anti-Semitism that he saw at that time, he decided to leave Poland. The only question was where to go. He chose Israel.
What was the reason why Israel? Reb Mendl's parents had died in Jerusalem and therefore he decided to live in the country where his parents were laid to rest.
On a summer's day Czyzewo accompanies the Mendl Kanet's family, a total of 9 people, (daughters and sons-in-law) to the train to see them off to Israel. Along with the Kanet family the Rubinowicz family had liquidated their farm in the village of Chelenowo (near Czyzewo) as well as their possessions in the shtetl. Both families did this to the surprise of the Czyzewo Jews and Christian acquaintances the pioneers, the first scouts, who went to Israel.
In Israel Reb Mendl renewed his way of living as in past years in Czyzewo. He became a prayer leader during the Days of Awe and he organized a small tsitsis factory in his own house that he had built in Tel-Aviv. His children continued to bring help to the needy, just as they had done in Czyzewo.
Two documents that are proof of the attention and responsibility involved in tsitsis production in Czyzewo.
Documents that prove the great responsibility that was involved in tsitsis production
Regarding the Subject of Tsitsis
Here I will point out the many problems with regard to the making of tsitsis, and provide great detail about the stumbling block with regard to silk, which is completely unfit, for they are not spun and twisted together for the sake of the commandment of tsitsis, but rather folded into a silk lattice that looks like tsitsis. Therefore, it is appropriate to remove this stumbling block from the midst of our brethren, and to point out that silk tsitsis are completely invalid. Heaven forbid that one should purchase them. There is a great prohibition upon merchants to sell them, so as not to mislead the public. It should also be pointed out that one should not purchase woolen tsitsis without certification that they were made in the prescribed fashion that the pre-spinning, and also the spinning and twisting should be done by a person, as is the tradition, for the sake of the commandment of tsitsis. For there are those who do the pre-spinning by a power machine, which is forbidden by the leaders of the generation, such as the Gaon of Tarnow and the Gaon of Bielsk of holy blessed memory the author of Shaarei Tzion; and by those are alive including the mighty Gaon of Dvinsk may he live long. Therefore it is fitting to make haste to remove the stumbling block for the sake of the precious commandment of tsitsis, which is considered to be equivalent with all the commandments.
Darchenu, Tuesday of the Torah portion of Haazinu, the eve of Yom Kippur 5695
Rabbi Shmuel David Zwolodower, the head of the rabbinical court of the community of Czyzewo
Regarding the Subject of Tsitsis
With respect to the words of the rabbi, may he live long, the head of the rabbinical court of our city, in the first issue of Darcheinu of this year, we come as Orthodox people in Czyzewo, who have been familiar and expert with the tsitsis making industry in our city for several decades already to publicize the details regarding the aforementioned serious matter, in all of its minutiae and ramifications. As is known from the Shulchan Aruch (code of Jewish Law) and the legal decisors, the work of making tsitsis must be performed manually, by Jews, for its own sake, from beginning to end. In any other manner, it is not only that one cannot fulfill the commandment of tsitsis, but, on the contrary, one would violate the transgression of wearing a four cornered garment without tsitsis. An incident took place in our city even before the world war that one of the tsitsis makers began to make use of a machine that was harnessed to horses to make the cloth and the pre-spinning. The rabbi may he live long protested, through an exchange of letters, regarding the questions and responsa of several of the great leaders who stated that even the pre-spin that is performed by a machine powered by steam or horses is forbidden because it is the beginning of the spinning. The cloth mat is forbidden because it is combed better. The Maharal
of Prague was also stringent regarding the combing On account of the protest, that person stopped his work by horse-powered machine, and resumed his work manually, in accordance with law and tradition.
Thus did the tsitsis making work continue until five years ago, when some irresponsible people arose and began to find pretexts to compete with those who do the work in accordance with the law. (It is known that it is more expensive to do it manually.) From then, the breach grew, and questions arose regarding the presumption of kashrus (i.e. presumption of halachic validity) that the tsitsis makers of our city always had. The breach continued to grow without bounds. For at first, some people in our city attempted to do only the combing by machine, and now people in other towns use steam powered machines even for the spinning. If in our city there are only few who transgress the law and do their work deceitfully to mislead the masses there are already people in other cities who do not know their right from their left, and perform the work of tsitsis making like any other job, without concerning themselves with the great responsibility that rests therein.
All the aforementioned refers only to woolen tsitsis that are made under some sort of supervision. However, the silk tsitsis that are sold in all factories are invalid and completely forbidden, since the merchants purchase silk thread in Lodz and make bundles of tsitsis from them. The breach is very great. According to the Torah leaders, it is urgent to deal with this matter in all of its ramifications.
by Gorzalczany/Petah Tikva
Translated by Gloria Berkenstat Freund
Monday at dawn, right after the first minyon [prayer group], he threw his sack in which among other things were his tailoring tools, needle and thread and the large tailor's scissors that was dozen of years older than he was, on his shoulder. The scissors were an inheritance. For the first time, he left his small house that was located on Bod Street for Ciechanowiecer Road to try to find some work with the peasants in the nearby villages.
With the arrival in Czyzewo of tailors with sewing machines, no one any longer ordered any clothing from him, even for children. Until the arrival of the sewing machines, Reb Benyamin was overloaded with work. He was a specialist in sewing by hand, making new, small kaftans for kheder [religious primary school] boys out of old goods
and special winter padded kaftans and even padded pants. It had been a long time that he had sat at his large table, blackened by his work and no customer opened the door. Therefore, he would try his to find his good fortune with the peasants in the villages to be able to support his family.
Going a short way from his house, he heard the voice of his wife calling him: Benyamin! Benyamin! Come here, I want to tell you something! He turned around; he knew what she would say to him.
He asked her with repressed irritation What do you want?[Column 533]
What will happen to them? she said, holding in the tears and pointed to the two boys, shriveled, with small, pale
faces who stood near her holding on to her dress and the nursing child in her arms There is not a groshn of money in the house, not even a piece of bread.With these words, Benyamin turned around and went on his way. Tears fell on his face
In a choked voice, he said, - Try to go to Arke the baker; tell him that, God willing, I will go to him [after] Shabbos and pay him.
But Arke said that he cannot [give bread] as long as our debt is not paid.
What do you want from me? Do you want me to stay here, not go? Good. Let it be as you wish. I will stay here, but what will come from it? You know that there is no work here. Perhaps in the village God will send a little work. So. Be healthy!
He consoled himself - Unfortunate one! He was ashamed of himself I am crying?He was then 40 years old. Suffering from poverty and a bit of hunger was not new for him. And yet his heart was not that of a woman. It was petrified under the yoke of his bitter fate that had not left him from his birth to this day. No, he was not a man of tears.
Such tears cannot make the pain easier; they cannot console the unfortunate. These are the tears of misery and desperation.
With his sleeve he wiped the falling tears, which ran across his shriveled cheeks, falling on his wide beard. These were tears of bitterness and terrible poverty. A man can only cry like this under oppressive need when the heart melts looking at his hungry and naked, shriveled small children.
But he still did not lose his hope. He strove with all of his strength to find the opportunity to nourish his family. Perhaps God would have mercy, take pity.
Bent under the weight of the sack on his back, his tired feet carried him further on the road. In addition to his tailoring tools in his sack were his talis and tefilin [prayer shawl and phylacteries], a prayer book and a book of Psalms. While at work in the house of a gentile he did not forget for a minute his duty to He who lives eternally, as well as his duty to his family. He protected like the eyes in his head the little bit of money that he succeeded in gathering with the bitter sweat on his face, sitting an entire day at work. Not one penny did he use for his own pleasure, not even for a glass of whiskey to refresh his faint heart.
No! He would not do this! He knew very well that his wife and children desperately longed for, waited for his return for Shabbos [Sabbath]. He did not forget them for a minute because this was the only consolation in his poverty.Years pass, time flies, one becomes older and elderly. Children grow to be adults; one already had lived through bitter need, through the hardships and pain that were brought by the years of war. His son, Mordekhai, the youngest of two brothers was called for Polish military service and the sad news arrived, Mordekhai and three other Jewish children from Czyzewo were shot by the Poles.
by Dow Brukarz
Translated by Gloria Berkenstat Freund
He found only poverty capable of preventing them from sin.
(Chagigah 9b [Talmud Tractate])
He was an example of modesty, an unassuming man.
He never complained about his poverty to anyone. Day and night, for example, he was engaged without complaint with what was decreed from heaven.
His brief biography was given to me, which I provide here for the Czyzewer who never knew about him.
He married his second wife in Zembrowa [Zembrów], where she had a nice haberdashery business. He, the great scholar, Hasid and very observant Jew, a believer and man of faith, took on the path of Torah and respect. He devoted himself to commerce with the same enthusiasm as setting aside time for learning Torah, earned money and was happy with his lot.
However, the idyllic life was disturbed when, God help us, a fire broke out one day and Yitzhak-Ahron's shop disappeared with the smoke, became a mountain of ash; not even one thread was saved.
As is the custom for a Jew, a God-fearing person, a Hasid goes to his rebbe before he opens a new business.
He presented the rebbe with kwitl [note requesting the rabbi's intervention with God for a marriage for a child, a child for a barren woman, success in business, etc.] and the rebbe gave his assent and a blessing for the future, but something extraordinary happened here. The rebbe, after reading the presented kwitl, took out a ruble and placed it in his [Yitzhak-Ahron's] hand.
Yitzhak-Ahron understood what the rebbe's donation, the ruble, signified. This meant that he [Yitzhak-Ahron] no longer needed to run any business, but was to live with help from people.
Coming home, he told his wife about the tzedakah [charity] and she added:
Just as we bless the good, we bless the bad. Both accepted the din [religious decree].
They moved to Czyzewo.
The shtibl [one-room synagogue] made sure that the Jews who studied day and night lacked nothing.
He quickly became part of a study group.
His wife was busy with selling soap on the market days and at fairs, with very little success.
The soap maker would not take any of her unsold goods; her brother, Yoska Zisman, who had a food shop near the Czyzewo station, took them from her.
by Dow Brukarz
Translated by Gloria Berkenstat Freund
Purim is known as a very cheerful holiday. In Czyzewo, Purim was notable for the cheer of the Purim-shpiler. Arrangements for the Purim banquet were made as for a wedding. Various cakes were baked, [foods] were roasted, cooked and a table was readied with candles lit, around which we sat from early evening.
The banquet would usually last until the middle of the night. Various couples would come who would collect donations for various charitable institutions that existed in the shtetl.
Groups disguised in various masks and costumes would also come. These were the distinguished members of the middle class, community workers for the Bikor-Khoylim [assistance for the sick], Talmud-Torah [primary school for needy boys], Hakhanas Kahlah [help for poor brides] and the like. There also were those needy people who, in masks, made use of the opportunity and collected donations for themselves, for their hungry families.
Each man of means had ready piles of small change and it was distributed generously to those coming in for donations; drinking a small glass of whiskey, wishing each other a joyful L'Chaim [To life] from deep in their hearts. All in addition to the donation.
The Purim-shpiler had an entirely different character. This was a group of young men who collected money for
a special purpose. First of all, for those who needed to enter military service and did not have the means to take the necessary equipment with them. Then, there were also those who needed to be ransomed so that they would be freed from military service.
These young men organized according to the model of a wandering theater troupe. They would not be satisfied with small donations. They only went to the wealthy houses; there they performed short scenes from the Selling of Joseph, of how Jacob's sons sell their brother Joseph to the Ishmaelites. This was performed in the most heart-breaking manner. Both the players and those listening would take this tragedy to heart and, the main thing, the rich men did give rich donations.
Der Ashmedai [The Ashmedai], the legend in which the Ashmedai drives King Solomon from the his seat of power, spits him out far away from home, where no one knows him and no one imagines his extraordinary wisdom, is among the best in the repertoire of the Purim-shpiler. But King Solomon again attains the seat of power and begins a struggle with Ashmedai, the King of the Demons.
This shtik [piece] was filled with songs, each performer sang a solo as well as in the
chorus. Later, the songs went through the shtetl. Here is one that remains in my memory:
You should go there on the mountain.
It is high and very strong.
There you will find Ashmedai
In a very deep well
Go into it,
Make him drunk with strong wine,
He will become confused
And you will take him in chains.
The preparations for the performance lasted for weeks; special costumes were prepared that cost nothing. Everything was donated.
The Purim-shpilers ceased their activities around the years 1907-1908. But those in disguise who collected donations for important purposes were still present many years later.
by Dow Brukarz
Translated by Gloria Berkenstat Freund
It was in August 1935, exactly 13 years had passed since we had left Czyzewo for Eretz Yisroel [Land of Israel], August 1922.
We had lived in Eretz Yisroel for 13 years and had not stopped longing for the simple, primitive shtetl, Czyzewo, until we made the excursion.
We arrived from Warsaw close to midnight. Welwl Yabka was already waiting for us at the train station with his britshke [half-covered wagon] and he brought us to the sleeping shtetl [town].
The road to the train, the length of two viorst, had not changed at all; the white stones that stood at the edges on both sides of the highway were a sign in the dark night that here is the edge of the highway and that a canal began.
The alder trees stand on the other side from which a faint noise is heard. Opposite us are the houses of the Czyzewo village right at the bend; on the left we recognize Hersh-Natikhe's low, small house that was burned with its four windmills and all of the other surrounding houses in 1914, during the First World War.
We rode the length of Kolye Street to Zbulun's inn, lighted by a large paraffin lamp, or as they were called kerosene lamp.
We only have electrical lighting until 11 o'clock at night - Welwl, who had been quiet the entire time, with his face to the horses, told us. We entered the large market; we recognized the shops there that run along the entire length of the market up to the Catholic church. We stopped at Shmuelye the tailor's house where Welwl's brother lives:
we will stay there during out stay in Czyzewo.
I think this is the same shtetl Czyzewo, the same wooden, low, small houses with the sloped shingle roofs, from which people with blackened faces looked out, houses built of brick standing in a row like soldiers, but little changed. The outer walls to the front of the street are painted with lime, mostly with white lime.
The well, built with a surrounding thick wooden wall a meter in height, was in a part of the market between Josl-Borukh Lapek's brick house in the row of stores
and Sura-Ete's wooden house from which two windows look out from the upper room.
Opposite stands the water pump just as neglected as 13 years ago so that the water is not used as drinking water, only for putting out the frequent fires that occur in Czyzewo. The canals, in which the dirty water that is poured out of the houses, the so called kanalizatisia, is carried away to the river which cuts through the width of the shtetl. Beginning at the slaughter house, it cuts through the
|From right to left: Yehoshaya Lepak, of blessed memory, Pinye Zusman and his daughter,
Hodes, of blessed memory and lahavdil [to distingish] between the living and dead - Berl Brokasz and Berl Gozszalczagi
Sitting, from the left: Dwoyra Gramadzin and Nakhama Zisman, of blessed memory and lahavdil between the living and dead - Dwoyra Brukasz, Sheva Gozszalczagi
Third row: Shepsl Zisman and Yehoshaya Lepak's son, Shmuelik, of blessed memory
Blacksmith Street and Andjowe's orchard until it falls into the Brak River.
Here the images consist of places partly covered with wooden boards that do not stop the odor that comes from there in summer. The Brak River is used to wash clothing, to swim in during the summer - for taking drinking water, ignoring the fact that the water later returns to it. Never mind - it is flowing water and they manage
The people have changed greatly during the 13 years.
Children have grown up. Young people have become old and the older ones have become old men. But many of the former old men could not wait for our visit and they have returned from whence they came [i.e. they have died].
As we were the first family that took all of its belongings and 13 years ago departed for Eretz-Yisroel, we were also the first, and perhaps only one that brought greetings to Czyzewo from Eretz-Yisroel.
Every day, when we first appeared in the street, we were surrounded by curious people and we were sprinkled with a flood of questions and then asked to compare the life there (Eretz-Yisroel) and here (in exile). Everything interested them; they wanted to know about everything; many would wonder about there and regret that here the life was so difficult, taxes, lack of income and the like.
We did not feel safe with our lives when we went out at night. In the best case
we received painful blows from the anti-Semitic neighbors.
Often after we would leave the group, someone would remember and run after us to ask us something. I remember how Avraham Josl, Yitzhak Ahron's son, remembered that he had not asked me, is it true that there I work on the second day of a holiday and I put on tefillin?
Yes, it is true - I answered.
Once, Josl, Zawl-Leib's son (Josl Kotliarek), approached me and asked me to agree to go to his rabbi and ask how I should behave on the second day of a holiday and particularly regarding praying on Simkhas-Torah [fall holiday commemorating the end and start of the yearly Torah readings]?
The acting rabbi was then Rabbi Lewinson, the son-in-law of Rabbi, Reb Shmuel Dovid Zawlodower, may the memory of a righteous man be blessed, who had then become ill. The rabbi advised me that in the morning I should put on teffilin privately and later come to the synagogue and put on the talis [prayer shawl] without a blessing and I could take part in kiddush [blessing on the wine] with the congregation, as is the custom, but I should not ask to be called up to read the Torah.
I prayed in the Zionist Club, which also served as the synagogue for praying on Shabbos and the holidays.
The visitors at the praying were young men and young boys, who at my departure from Czyzewo were even younger, or grown children of those who I remember and who perished at the hands of the Germans: Pinye Zisman, Yakov Yablonka, Yehoshaya Lepak, Shmuelke Wengocz, Sholem Grynberg (Czelonogura), the Grynberg brothers and others.
After praying, friendly conversation or reports about various local, communal and political problems would take place.
The reporter and leader of the discussions for the most part was Berl Gorzalczany. The building in which we came together, a wooden one, was already finished. It only lacked an oven for heating in winter. A banquet was arranged for the close of Shabbos for the departure to Eretz-Yisroel of comrade Yitzhak Szliaksi and his wife, Chana. I was given the honor of toast master; I used the opportunity then to give the misheberakhs [blessing for a person or group] to everyone present at the banquet and because of promises of a contribution asked how much was promised for a cockle stove [stove made of Dutch tiles]. A large sum was actually collected.
In the morning, Sunday, the group came to say goodbye to us. The last ones to remain were Yehoshaya Lepak and his son, Dwoyra Gramadzin and Pinye, his wife, Khome (Nekhema) Zisman, of blessed memory, Berl Gorzalczany, long may he live and his wife, Sheyve.
It is a pity for those who are gone and no longer to be found.
by Dwoyra Brukasz (Dwasza), Tel Aviv
Translated by Gloria Berkenstat Freund
Every change in the ruling power in Poland began and ended with Jewish blood and Jewish tears. Thus it was in the years 19141915, the years of the RussianPolish War, when the Russians left Poland and the Germans occupied it. It was the same in 1918 when the Poles took over the government [and] drove out the Germans. And it also was in 1920 at the time of the PolishBolshevik War when the Bolsheviks occupied Poland and, later, were again driven out by the Poles.
On the last day, when the Polish soldiers had to leave Czyzewo, escaping from the Bolsheviks, heartrending screams were heard at night from the shopkeepers and other Jews in private houses who were robbed and beaten.
Living in our house were my mother, may she rest in peace, and my sisters. We decided to tear out the floor, dig a pit and hide all of the more useful household objects, linen, furniture and other things of value until the storms of war passed. Meanwhile, these things would not be stolen, although we knew this work was dangerous.
On a day when people were grabbed to drive cattle, the news reached me that a soldier was waiting in Berl's house to take him to drive cattle. Perl, Avrahamtshe the tailor's [wife], had brought me the news. (Although she already had a second husband, she was referred to with the name of her first husband).
My brother began doing the work with the help of his comrade, Berl Brukasz (now my husband). By the light of a small kerosene lamp and [behind] a wellclosed door and window, after several hours of heavy work, a large enough pit was dug out. Suddenly, we heard knocking in the door and in Polish we were ordered to open the door. We all stood frozen in fear. We understood how great the danger was in opening the door. They would see the pit. They would accuse us
of hiding gold for the enemy. There were many such similar accusations at that time. Not opening? It was no less dangerous. They would break in the door. Meanwhile the knock became stronger and more arrogant. We opened it.
Two Polish soldiers came in and with leisurely calmness asked for bread or for whatever there was to eat. They did not appear cruel. We took whatever bread we had and gave it to them. However, they said that it would be much better for us if we heard knocking on the door a second time and opened the door right away. We thanked them and breathed freely because he [Berl] was in the other room and because of the darkness.
In the middle of the night shouting was heard from the neighboring house. We recognized that the shouting was [in the house of] Yudel the carpenter. Soldiers were demanding money from him and he said that he did not have any, so the soldiers severely beat him. One soldier firmly held his hand and the second one poured gunpowder on his palm (surface of his hand), lit it, did not let go until the gunpowder had burned. His [Yudel's] shouts were heard throughout the street, but there was no one to take the risk and come to his aid and they would not have been able to help him. Meanwhile, other soldiers robbed and beat [him], broke everything that came into their hands.
There still was heavy shooting in the early morning; we again heard banging on our door. The pit in which we had hid the bed linen, underwear,
furniture and other things had been covered, the dirt that had been dug out had been taken to the garden under the house; the boards that had been torn out had been replaced as if nothing had happened. My brother opened the door at the second knock. The same two soldiers entered. But they looked different than before, agitated red faces, wild burning eyes and as soon as they came in, one shouted to my brother: Żydzu, otday twoi pieniądze! [Jews, give your money] and he immediately put both his hands in [my brother's] pocket. He found a silver cigarette case and took it without saying a word. He took Berl's watch with its good chain and immediately ran out of the house. A miracle occurred now, too, that they did not look in the other room. Who knows if they would have noticed that there was a hiding place.
In the morning, no Polish soldiers were seen in the streets and also no civilians. This shtetl looked as if it was Yom Kippur, closed doors and windows everywhere. A contingent of soldiers was first noticed in the afternoon coming from the other side of the train line, and in scattered rows they neared the direction of Szmidiszer Street. Shouting was heard Bolsheviks are coming!! People came out of their houses and went to meet them. They immediately recognized that these were Polish soldiers. The people ran away quickly. The soldiers shot after them. Luckily, they did not shoot anyone.
It again became quiet after this and a few hours later
the Bolshevik reinforcements appeared. The Poles did not enter the city.
The Attic A Place of Refuge
One room was taken from us at the time when the Bolsheviks were in Czyzewo. The commissar of the Chrezvychaynaya [Cheka Soviet secret police] was quartered there and various people were brought there; mostly from the Polish intelligentsia, the priest, the apothecary and others. However, their rule did not last long.
When the Bolsheviks left Czyzewo and the Poles again became the boss, they threw fear on the Jewish population. Soldiers went through the streets and into the houses and grabbed men for all kinds of forced labor and to drive cattle from one city to another. This cattle driving was a good opportunity to have a little fun at the expense of the Jews. This was the greatest danger for those who fell into this work. Whoever was permitted to return home did not return whole, but was exhausted and beaten. Jews with beards returned home with half their beards torn out. The Jews without beards were beaten because they did not have beards, with screams of mockery Zyd [derogatory Polish word for Jew] where is your beard? Or they would be asked to shout:
Niech rabin żyje, a ksiądz niech gnije (Let the rabbi live and the priest should rot). And immediately after this a flood of blows poured forth on the Jews for cursing the priest. It was not better for those who did not want to shout or for those who did not shout loudly enough.
There was a large attic over our house that served as a workplace for making tsitsis [fringed undergarment worn by pious men] and because the house was a meter lower than the one next to it, a second roof was built there where neighbors hid from police raids to capture men to drive cattle.
On a day when they were grabbing men for driving cattle, the news reached me that a soldier was waiting at Berl's house to take him to drive cattle. The news had been brought to me by Perl, the wife of Avrahamtshe the tailor. (Although she had a second husband, she was always referred to with the name of her first husband). Hearing the news I left my housework and in desperate fear, I went to Berl. At that moment I did not even think if I would be able to do something to help him. No pleading or tears was of help with them [the Poles]. When I reached the house I saw the soldier walking around with his rifle on his shoulder at the entrance. I walked by with the pretense of nonchalant calm and entered the house. The picture I saw there remains before my eyes today.
Berl's parents stood as if they were frozen. From their stiff, dark faces screamed out the grief of the torturing that took away their son. His brother, Mordekhai, may he rest in peace, also was hiding somewhere and they knew nothing about him. Berl, pale as chalk, had wanted to leave the house… But suddenly…
The only possibility to save him!
If only he could come here he would be saved!
I pointed with my hand in the direction of the window that looked out onto the courtyard, I said quietly, but loud enough for Berl to hear:
Run out of the window! In the middle of the backway quickly to the attic!… He remained standing, not moving, for a moment, thinking. It looked as if he had not understood what I was saying to him. However, he immediately came to himself and reached the attic safely.
I then began to think about what would happen if the soldier saw that his victim had escaped from him… Suddenly the soldier outside shoved open the door and shouted: What is taking so long? For a while we were terrified of the shouting. Berl's mother, may she rest in peace, went over to the soldier:
My son has already left to go to you…
And she quickly took a piece of brown bread weighing several pounds and a sack of apples. Offering them to the soldier, she pleadingly said to him: I beg you to take this package with you and give it to my son. He did not take anything with him… The soldier, starving, greedily grabbed the package and left the house. Everyone breathed easier… We did not feel the earlier tears of joy that had poured over our heated faces that we had succeeded in saving Berl.
A few hours later I heard running outside and a soldier shouting: Stoj! Stoj! Bo ja strzelę! (Halt! Halt! I will shoot!). This was AvrahamBorukh Lepak. The soldier wanted to take him to the cattle drive. Passing our courtyard, AvrahamBorukh quickly escaped and went up to the attic. The soldier had lost sight of him when he grabbed his gun to shoot him [AvrahamBorukh]. He [the soldier] walked around the entrance to the attic and shouted like a confused animal:
Psia krew! jJak ja tego zyda zlapię jak ja tego zyda zlapię, to go zastszeljas jak psa! (Blood of a dog! When I catch the Jew, I will shoot him like a dog). Roaring in this way, he thought for a long time and then went up to the attic.
The attic was empty and light. The soldier remained standing at the entrance. He looked around and saw that it was impossible for someone to hide here unnoticed. At the entrance one could not notice that at the other end lay more than 30 people holding their breath with their hearts beating in fear.
The soldier grumbled, as if to himself:
Psia krew! Nie ma nikogo! (Blood of a dog! No one is here!) And he came down from the attic exasperated. Today, I still shudder when I think about what could have happened if the soldier had uncovered the hiding place and had found so many Jews there.
A large number were still alive until the annihilation of Czyzewo and perished with all of the Jews. May their memory be blessed!
by Shimkha Glina, Tel Aviv
Translated by Gloria Berkenstat Freund
This was on a Monday morning. The Germans had withdrawn and the first divisions of the Russian Army had entered the shtetl [town].
First, they began with our mill and started to break the blades. When I asked them why they were doing this, they answered that they needed wood to cook their food.
It occurred to me to wind the blades of the mill so that they could not reach them. I thought that they would give up and I went home.
It did not take long and three Cossack officers came into the house. There was a soldier with them who immediately pointed to me.
Leading me outside, they immediately began cursing me:
You Zydowski Shpion [Jewish spy]; you think that we do not understand that you have tricked us? You have let the Germans know where we are…
The soldier tied me to his horse and pulled me through the road to the station where the Russian chief commander was located.
The streets and roads were empty; only the sky was red with the reflection of fires. The shtetlekh [towns] and villages around Czyzewo were burning.
I was injured [and] the Cossacks took me to the headquarters, reporting that they had caught a Jew, a German spy.
The commandant, also a Cossack, attacked me with clenched fists, cursed and reviled me with obscene words, adding that he would not play with me for long, that I would be hanged immediately.
Meanwhile he locked me in a separate room and placed a Cossack as a guard.
I saw myself as doomed and quietly made a spiritual examination of my conscience and made a confession of my sins.
I do not remember how long I sat. Suddenly the door opened and a commanding voice shouted:
I was sure that they were taking me to the gallows. My wife and my sixmonth old son appeared before my eyes; I strongly wished to say goodbye to them,
to look at them in the last minutes of my life.
When I was taken past the train station I saw a train standing full of Jews. Among them were the Lubelcziks, YisroelNakhman and his family, and Mordekhai. I saw the certainty on their faces that they were being taken to be hanged.
The soldiers who walked behind me did not say one word. Their steps with their hobnailed boots echoed in my ears as if they were counting my last minutes. In a moment they would stop somewhere at a prepared gallows and be finished with me.
We already had walked for a while onto the Ciechanowiec highway and stopped near some sort of low buildings. I searched with my eyes for a gallows, but the soldiers brutally shoved me into an open room where an officer was located and reported to him that they had brought a spy.
The officer eyed me from my head to my feet and began to scold the soldiers as to why they were driving him crazy with a Jewish spy. He ordered then to take me back to Czyzewo to the commandant in charge of prisoners. He would know what to do with me.
The soldiers saluted and led me outside.
The sky looked as if the entire world was on fire. The shooting grew heavier with every minute and echoed in the emptiness of the road with frightful horror. The soldiers did not know where to look for the
prisoner commandant. It turned out that he had already left the shtetl and they remained standing with a dilemma: what should they do with the Jewish spy?
They spoke quietly to each other and then informed me that they had decided to hand me over to the Czyzewo village magistrate who should be responsible for me and guard me until an order arrived about what to do with me. They only wanted to know if the village magistrate was a Jew.
Hearing from me that the village magistrate was a Jew, they again had a dilemma. They were firmly determined not to leave me in Jewish hands and began to rack their brains for where there were authorities with whom they could entrust a Jewish spy.
Finally they wanted to find the local authorities where they could leave me and receive confirmation [that they had left me]. However, the building was bolted and nailed shut. There were no living souls around. A strange, almost frightening stillness reigned except for the echoes of the distant thunder.
The soldiers already were tired from looking for an authority to take the Jewish spy and began to grumble among themselves: was it possible that they would not find a Christian village magistrate here?
I got the idea that they should take me to Bartek, the village magistrate, who lived at Modlin [Street] and was an acquaintance of mine.
They gladly accepted my proposal, but arriving at his house we met his wife. Bartek was not at home.
My hope again ended. The fear of the gallows again began to stick in my heart. The solders became angry and decided to take me back to the train station to the Cossack commandant. He should finish with me.
Bartek came at the same moment as they were leaving with me for the station. He stopped with surprise that they were taking me. The Cossacks said that I was a spy and demanded that he give his signature that he had received the spy and was responsible for me when they left me.
Bartek went to sign but his wife appeared at the same moment with a lament. He should not take upon himself such a responsibility for a Jew.
Bartek stood for a minute with hanging hands and did not know what he should do. He immediately came to and blew up with impatience at his wife:
The soldiers left and I breathed a sigh of relief. I finally was free, but where would I go now at four o'clock in the morning. I could again have an encounter with some Cossack patrol and be held as a spy.
I chased after the soldiers and promised to pay well if they would take me home. They watched me closely; did I mean to entice them into something? But it turned out that they recognized in me that I did not have any bad intentions and one quickly whispered as if he wanted to be persuaded if this inviting idea would result in confusion.
Well, come quickly.
I ran as if with wings and the soldiers followed me.
Several minutes later I was in the house. No one was asleep. Everyone had waited for a miracle.
This cost me a copper 10piece coin.
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