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Hebrew calendar, 1938-39

Baruch-Neta Glinkovsky & his family in front of their home

The Market Day

In my parent's home as a child, I collected a variety of stories about Dereczin and its populace, but an absolutely different picture remains in my mind of the town , as I saw it and came to know it so well in the years that I dwelt there. The memory of this community, its character, the way of life and its customs, come back to my mind frequently from time to time, and I will try to paint a portrait of the town from these memories of mine.

Dereczin was a beautiful town, clean and open, surrounded by an enchanting ambience, with a well-populated area. The Zelva Gasse led to the railroad station at nearby Zelva, and was our gateway to the wider world; from the Slonim Gasse, the way led to the district capital, in which many of the town youth went to be educated, and to which Dereczin was also tied with links of commerce, family connections, culture, and joint organizational memberships, etc.; the Deutsche Gasse led to the villages, estates, and nearby towns. These three broad streets served as the means of access to the near and far surroundings, and bounded the large market square in the center of Dereczin.

To the extent that I can recall the population statistics of 1928, the population of Dereczin was about thirty thousand, of which 72% lived in the town itself.

Most of the Dereczin Jews were people of action, possessed of energy and initiative in matters of commerce and crafts, of these – grain merchants, operators of flour mills and other factories, but most were energetic storekeepers and craftsmen. All worked in the creation of clothing, footwear, utensils, and a variety of implements useful to the surrounding populace. On market and fair days, thousands of rural dwellers would come to town, and whoever had a store in the marketplace, or its environs was guaranteed of some income. The qualities of a market day were present during all days of the week, but on market day itself, Dereczin took on a completely different air, and assumed a new color: everything hustled and bustled, the pace was quicker, rushed and pressured – the Jews in the presentation of their merchandise, and the farmers in their purchases. Only with the coming of evening did the hectic pace slow down, and the town return to its former calm.

This portrait of the market days, that left such a pronounced imprint on the life of the town and its livelihood, are in my memory from stories told to me by my parents when I was a child, but the face of the community, and the character of the Dereczin populace changed in the years after the First World War, which was in itself the cause of these changes.

A new generation came of age, with greater insight, and more liberal in its thinking, with significantly greater connection to the wider world than its parents, who had lived their entire lives within the boundaries of their town and its immediate surroundings. A variety of political organizations appeared and began to work within the community, each with its own active chapter and meeting place. Those young people who did not move away to distant places, began to dominate the community and cultural life of the town. New concepts began to stimulate the young people: Zionism, socialism, and the Halutz movement. The system of balebatim that had for many years been the dominant form of community rule, slowly began to disappear, and in

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the place of these stalwarts of the community, representatives of the people, of “your people” began to speak its piece.

Despite this, Jewish tradition did not completely disappear, since it was observed even by the rising young generation. The young people continue to attend synagogue on the Sabbath and Holidays, and they continue to use these synagogues as centers of assembly for debates, discussions, and events of organizations to the left and right as if one.

In those years, which I describe in this memoir of mine, general Zionist organizations were active in Dereczin, along with Poalei Tzion, Betar, and to some extent, the Bund.

Many, many of the young people of Dereczin left their town in those years, traveling to other cities for education, and ultimately many of them emigrated out of Poland, in which they could not aspire to a future with any meaningful potential, and went to distant lands. A portion of that generation was bound up with the Halutz movement, and made aliyah to the Holy Land. Because of this, it was of great importance whenever any young people came from other cities to live in Dereczin, settling there, and contributing from their energies and strengths to its communal life.

A formal Jewish community did not yet exist in those years of the twenties, with an elected governing body, and the local community was governed by a ‘committee’ that was selected by a handful of the balebatim. This establishment, nevertheless, saw itself as the leadership of the Jewish community of Dereczin, but was not recognized as an active body, with most of the essential work being done by the Zionist Histadrut organization in town.

There were not few among the citizens of Dereczin, who dedicated their energy, effort and time to the public welfare, through their participation in various organizations. Let us remember several of these: As an example, Reb Moshe Shelovsky and his son, Yehuda (a dentist), Reb Mendel Feldman, Head of the General Zionist Organization, Reb Buma Grachuk, Reb Fyvel Blizniansky, Reb Eliyahu Abramovich, father-in-law of the writer Reb Moshe Rabinovich, Reb Eliezer Hanoch Alper – the head of the family of educators and disseminators of Torah, whose home was a center for active Zionism.

All of these people, and many others of the Dereczin community, had their own private concerns, there were among them scholars, wise men, strong in their convictions and attuned to the surroundings, but all were equally faithful to the obligations that they undertook, and nurtured the seed of benefitting the public good for the community of Dereczin.

The “Alper House,” in which the workers and young people of Dereczin would meet daily, to read newspapers, carry on conversations on all subjects, whether general, Jewish or Zionist, was always imbued with the spirit of the son of the family, David Alper ז”ל, the outstanding and committed Zionist educator, whose influence on that generation of Dereczin youth was considerable even in the years when he was away, when he served as the Headmaster of Jewish studies in Pinsk, where eventually, he met his end at the hands of the German murderers.

And if I raise the memory of my individual dear ones in Dereczin, I have a sacred obligation to record the name and memory of my childhood friend, the son-in-law of Reb Eliezer Alper, Reb Isser Lamprat, the scion of a distinguished family from Kletsk, wherein he, his wife and all the members of his household made the supreme sacrifice during the Holocaust. He was a Zionist from his earliest days on, and worked a great deal for the redemption of the Homeland.

I will remember and not forget one of the members of the community, Reb Dov Polachuk, an enthusiastic Zionist, an orator and debater with those opposed to the concept of the rebirth of the [Jewish] people and their Homeland.

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I would really like to recall many more of the Jews of the Dereczin community – but if I should omit some, I will beg the pardon of those surviving descendants who still live among us. Well known and respected were the heads of the families of Ratner, Zelikovich, Weinstein, whose family head was Zalman Weinstein, the head of the fire brigade, and involved in all aspects of town public issues, Zvi Beckenstein, his son-in-law, Abraham Rozovsky, son of the Rabbi, these are among those who came from outside Dereczin and worked in its Jewish community. And there were among the balebatim, important yet modest men, operating behind the scenes, who did not get involved in the “politics” of the town, but did their good work secretly – all of them straight of heart, doing what they had to do faithfully, such as Reb Shmuel Beckenstein, Reb Sholom Sakar, Reb Ze'ev (Veleh) Rabinovich, whose two sons, David & Jacob were among the first of the Halutzim from Dereczin to make aliyah to the Holy Land, Eliezer Sedletsky, Gorinovsky, and their grandfather, Reb Yehuda-Shmuel, a righteous and straight man of the older generation, Reb Joseph Mishkin, Reb Aryeh-Leib Bialosotsky, Reb Meir-Yehoshua, the well-known feldscher.

And I must raise the name of the Rabbi of the community, זצ”ל Rabbi Gaon Rav Zvi Bakalchuk, one of the truly great Torah scholars of the rabbinate, a man of commanding presence, and a wondrous orator.

It is incumbent upon us to also remember the many good people from the rank and file of the people, from the craftsmen and laborers such as Zvi the Blacksmith from the Slonim Gasse; Mordechai Zambrovsky & Noah Lifshovich, workers for the Bund, who gave of themselves selflessly and honestly for the public good.

And once again, I beg the forgiveness of those, whose names escape me, because of the betrayal of a failing memory, after so many years of being uprooted from that distant past that was, but is no more.

As previously noted, towards the end of the twenties, there was not yet an elected town council, and the ‘Committee’ functioned at its own discretion.

The organized power in town was in the hands of the Zionist Histadrut, which was led by several important citizens of the town – Reb Mendel Feldman, Reb Eliyahu Abramovich, Reb Berel Polachuk, Reb Eliezer Alper. The youth primarily joined the Poalei Tzion, whose leadership consisted of Sedletsky, Rozovsky, and the writer of this memoir.

The work to disseminate cultural initiatives and attempts at influencing those issues that affected the way the community was led, and its institutions, was in the hands of the youth who conducted their work with the support of the general Zionists. There was also a small segment of extremists who were active, from which the revisionist eventually evolved, and also the Betar movement. In their ardor for their principles, it was not only once that they generated arguments and conflict between different movements. The Bund as well, did not sit with folded hands, and periodically was a disrupting force to the Zionist effort, and general community initiatives. It is to the credit of the people of Dereczin that these disputes never once created a schism in the institutions of the town, instead they were largely resolved through compromise and a continuation of partnership in the endeavor.

Disputes among the factions of the town started up over matters in the cultural sphere – concerning the library, the drama society, etc.

A credit union was [also] established in those years. The members of its council were: B. Grachuk, E. Alper (who served as Treasurer), M. Feldman, D. Polachuk, Eliyahu-Chaim Walitsky, and the writer of this memoir. The credit union went out of business under distressed circumstances, because the economic circumstances of the Jews of Dereczin worsened year-to-year during that period and at the

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same time throughout all of Poland.

The membership of Poalei Tzion, in cooperation with the Zionists, would organize evening lectures that were held twice monthly in the ‘headquarters' of the community (Der Kehilla'sheh Mauer), in the neighborhood of the Dworetsky home in the center square of the town. During the day, [this facility] was used for classrooms, and in the evenings it was used for a variety of assemblies and public meetings.

A Committee for Charitable Works (Gemilut Hasadim), and a Society to Visit the Sick (Bikur Kholim) also existed. The Fire Brigade occupied an esteemed position in town, which under the leadership of Zalman Weinstein, who was a committed leader, became the pride of the town.

This condition of partisan conduct of the institutions of the town by different public groups continued until 1928, until a law was promulgated by the Polish regime, that made it compulsory to establish a formal Jewish community with elected officials that would be accountable to the government.

As was the case in all of the towns in Poland, an awareness began to grow in the Dereczin Jewish community, and its various parties, regarding the formal establishment of a community and the election of its leaders. The passage of the law regarding formal community establishment was seen in the midst of the Jews as an important milestone in the striving for Jewish autonomy both within and without Poland.

The youth of the community were active in the organization of the elections, and most of the work was in the hands of the Poalei Tzion membership – all the Jews of Dereczin were registered and granted the right to vote. This was the first time that the Jews of Dereczin participated in a democratic election by secret ballot for the members of their community council.

There was great excitement in the town. The election committee was organized according to parties. The election slates were composed of eleven candidates, in accordance with the rules established by the government. Three slates were presented to the public: Zionists & Poalei Tzion, The Bund, and ordinary Balebatim.

Election day was a real holiday in Dereczin. Approximately 85% of the eligible voters turned out at the polls, and elected 8 members of the Zionist party and 3 members of the Bund.

The first meeting of the Council, the inaugural meeting, was a stormy one, because it was then that the Council leadership was selected. After extensive negotiation and debate among the elected members themselves, this writer was selected as the Chairman, and his deputy was a Bund officer, with Eliyahu Abramovich as the Treasurer. The remaining duties were allocated out to the rest of the Council membership.

The community office was open three days a week, in the afternoon and evening hours, naturally, so the elected officials could properly discharge their obligations, seeing as no stipend had been established for their work.

Initially there was much accumulated work, since in Dereczin nothing had been done to organize institutions for meting out justice, aid and culture. There was neglect in the Talmud Torah, Bikur Kholim, and other institutions.

The town Council also came to grips with the declining economic fortunes of the Jews, oversaw the taxation of the Jews by the regime, in appropriate measure with the lines of work of each individual. The Council also sent its officers to the town meetings. The condition of the Jews was, generally speaking, bad, with many of the storekeepers and craftsmen going bankrupt every day of the week, and competition was great, but sources of livelihood dwindled.

In the years between 1928 and 1931, developmental

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work was done on some institutions in the community: a new Talmud Torah building was erected, the charitable works of the Kupat Kholim was renewed, and an audit was conducted of all the towns institutions.

In 1931 before the elections to the Polish Sejm, pressure was brought to bear on the leaders of the community, by the ruling party of the regime, to ‘deliver the vote’ of the town on behalf of the party in power. Even the writer of this memoir was subject to this pressure, and because of this, submitted his resignation as a member of the town Council. The other members of his party joined him in resigning as well. The only remaining members were the Bund officers, and a number of balebatim, and these tried to carry on in some fashion with the management of public affairs.

The work of the Zionist party membership – including Poalei Tzion, Tzahar - did continue afterward. I can never forget those friends of mine, the workers of Poalei Tzion-Tzahar, who despite their own difficult economic and family circumstances, continued to do good things for the settlement of the Homeland,

the redemption of Its Land, and the facilitation of aliyah for the youth of our people, to rebuild the land and then lead it.

In 1933, I and my first wife, Esther Rabinovich ז”ל, of the well known and extensively branched Dereczin family, made aliyah to the Land of Israel.

The two organizations of Bikur Kholim and Linat Tzedek, assumed the responsibility to help the sick among the poor, who themselves did not have the wherewithal or the necessary means to heal themselves.

Bikur Kholim concerned itself with providing medical assistance, bringing a doctor or a feldscher to the aid of the indigent sick, and to provide the patient with medicines.

Linat Tzedek would send its supporters to spend the night at the bedside of the sick individual, to keep a watch over him, administering the necessary medicines, and to provide assistance to the members of the family of the patient thereby enabling them to obtain some rest after a hard day of labor and worry.

In the summertime, it was customary to boil up and reduce raspberries and cherries, in order that these “preserves” be distributed among the poor who were ill. The raspberries (malyeness) were considered especially effective against colds, and was taken with hot tea, in order to promote sweating and to lighten the impact of a cold. Dried cherries (karschen) were used to freshen the mouth of the patient, and to provide a bit of strength in the instance of severe illness.

Dedicated ladies would collect monies for the purchase of the fruit in season, and sugar as well. These ladies would also volunteer to prepare the fruits to make these preserves, and also act as safe-keepers for subsequent allocation among the sick.

Year in and year out, if I am not mistaken at Hol HaMoed Sukkot, one of the responsible workers was selected as the “Gabbai” of the Bikur Kholim.

Every Friday, one of the Jews would go around and take up a collection for the necessities of support for the ill, in order that there be resources for the outlays of the Bikur Kholim.

In the case of Linat Tzedek, leadership was provided by either a male Gabbai or female Gabbait. They

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already knew who in town was ill, and had an understanding of who required overnight assistance, in order to relieve the household members. They would normally approach either the young or the old who would have the capacity to spend the night at the house of the person who was ill.

My house was used more than once to prepare the preserves, and I was the one who kept an eye on the product to assure that it remained useable. When it became necessary to allocate this among the sick, they would come to me. Also, a variety of implements and utensils to minister to the sick were also kept with me. I was always strongly interested in providing help to the sick, and I always stood ready to provide such help with other men and women. It was in this fashion that my husband, Michael Petrukhovich was active in the capacity of Gabbai both for Bikur Kholim or Linat Tzedek, and he was also the Gabbai in the Bet HaMidrash, and a fellow of the group of Psalm Reciters.

Not once has the thought crossed my mind: perhaps in consideration of this [charitable] work, and in consideration of those young boys who took meals in my home, we were granted the boon of continued life?

When I recollect Dereczin in my memory, it seems to be tranquil and quiet on its place, during those very stormy years of the 1930's before the outbreak of the Second World War. Externally, everything was in turmoil. In Germany, Hitler ascended to power, and his influence was especially felt in Poland. The anti-Semitic ferment became a national policy, and the economic circumstances of the masses of Jews worsened daily, as sources of income for storekeepers, merchants and craftsmen were foreclosed.

Only someone who penetrated within the life of the Jewish community of Dereczin would know that there is no peace and quiet in the ranks of Israel. Nevertheless, the young people occupied themselves in a variety of activities, cultural life continued in its accustomed path, children learned, and parents worked to earn money for their loaf of bread as they had always – but the sense of resignation that was eating at the young people was on every mouth. Not one of them saw a future for themselves in their birthplace, and dreamed instead of aliyah to the Holy Land, because it was not permitted – to emigrate over the sea and ocean.

Most of the young people were organized in those years into the Zionist movement – be it HeHalutz, Poalei Tzion or Betar & Tzahar. The eyes and the interests of the youth were diverted to distant places. To another life, a life that would be better and more attractive than the one they were currently living.

Only the coterie of balebatim, the older generation, continued in its traditional fashion, seasoned by trial and tribulation and secure in its faith in Divine beneficence. Under the supervision of the spiritual leader, Rabbi Zvi-Hirsch Bakalchuk זצ”ל, religious life was conducted as usual, such as when the Rabbi conducted the study of the daily page of Talmud (Daf Yomi) in the Old Synagogue between the

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afternoon and evening prayers. Occasionally, Reb Abraham Shelkovich, & Reb Yitzhak Epstein would read the daily Mishnah chapter after the morning prayer service. Reb Eliyahu Abramovich would teach the Daf Yomi at the New Synagogue. The Cantor and Ritual Slaughterer was the newly married young Reb Moshe Tobolsky.

Bet Midrash officials would be invited to Dereczin from other places. It was Reb Zelig Lobzovsky, one of the elders of the town, who looked after their billeting, who worked hand-in-hand with Reb Dov Walitsky.

Compassionate women would go out on Fridays to solicit Sabbath victuals for distribution among the poor of that place.

And the Sabbath would descend peacefully, quiet, and relaxing, on all the houses in Dereczin. And not a single person foretold in those years of the thirties, what would befall this, our beloved town, in a matter of a few short years, in which the community would be cut down, her youth, elderly, and children – all annihilated.

The decade of the twenties goes by quickly. It is already the end of 1928. The Sanacia rules in Poland. For the elections to the Sejm, Jews are forced to go to a specific town in order to vote. We hear, already, the name of Kartuz-Berezo, where Pilsudski has condemned his opposition from many circles.

Jews continue to feel that they live securely in Poland. Part of the forests around Dereczin are cleared, and Jews circulate in the forests, taking control of these parcels. Storekeepers buy merchandise on credit, in the commercial centers, and sell on credit, even to the peasants. Trade credit is good for only one week, so there are few days for which payment can be deferred: Sabbath – Jews don't do business, Sunday – maybe God will send us a little bit of business from which to earn something, and then it will be possible to pay on Monday. Sunday, stores are supposed to be officially closed, but the police turn a blind eye to the peasant who steals into the store through a back door in order to buy something.

Young Jews wander about without work or purpose. Each year it becomes increasingly difficult to be accepted at a university with a faculty where you want to be chosen. Not all are Agreeable to taking over their father's livelihood, to go stand and sell goods in the store or the marketplace.

Tuesday is market day. A day for the eager Jewish [merchant] to determine the weather: will it snow or not? Will it rain or be a sunny day? Will more peasants come to the market because the weather will be nice?

In the market square stores, the women sit at their storefront doors looking for a customer that might buy a blouse, an apron, or a kerchief. Goods are sold almost for cost, just to make the sale, for the sake of having something to “turn.” One storekeeper envies the next one, and together, the lot of them have no business and no income.

And this is how the Jews live, day in and day out, one grabs a consideration from someone, a few zlotys to pay off a trade note, so it is not submitted as delinquent (for “protest”). Merchant from the land parcels in the forest contest with one another for control of different pieces of land, swearing up and down how fortunate their lot would have been, had not the “other guy” gotten control of a particularly attractive parcel. On market days, Jews go through the marketplace carrying finished pairs of shoes in their hands, tied by their laces.

But Christians are buying less and less from the

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Jews. There are already gentile shoemakers in the villages. Indeed, they learned this trade from the Jews. The same is also true of tailors and seamstresses.

The regime assists the Christian craftsmen with credit and new equipment, and in this fashion, old occupations slip out of Jewish hands. Jews keep looking for the postman, perhaps carrying a letter from children, or a brother or sister living across the ocean, perhaps with a couple of dollars. And better off Jews still laugh when it is proposed to them that they send some of their money, along with their children, to the Holy Land, in order to buy a parcel of land: “I'm not at that point yet” – they say jokingly.

Halutzim wait for many years in order to get proper permission, and yet there are no certificates available. Betar conducts parades, its members wearing their brown shirts.

In the course of the thirties, all the processes are honed and sharpened. Anti-Semitism grows with the growth of German Hitlerism. The circumstances in the town become even more difficult, but not all seek refuge from the gathering storm.

And you look at everybody and wonder: God in Heaven, don't these people realize they are living in a world at the brink of chaos? How long can they hold out?

In a few [short] years, the bloody flood did come, and erased it all.

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