Kosiv, Ukraine (Page 211)

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[Page 211]

Kosov People in the Kibbutzim
by Dr. G. Ravitz

Translated by Moshe Kutten

That remote little town still hovers before my eyes—the hill that rose above the marketplace and, during the days of the Holocaust, became the burial ground of a large part of its Jewish population.

What distinguished the Jews of Kosov, especially the younger generation, was their keen awareness of what was happening in the wider world, along with a powerful thirst for knowledge and progress.

Thanks to the initiative of the Jewish residents, our town gained access to electricity, a movie theater, and, as early as the 1920s, a bus line that connected it to the major city of Kolomyia.

The pleasant image of Mota'leh Bender, the father of Miriam Bender (no' in Kibbutz Gat). How nimbly he would stand on the steps of the bus he owned, beside the driver, and how warmly he would welcome every passenger! When the holidays came, and I returned home, how delighted he was to welcome me—the student from Kosov—and see that I was brought safely home to my parents! He looked after me as though I were his own daughter.

I vividly recall the hardships we faced traveling from Kuromiya's train station to our home—a journey that once took 5 to 6 grueling hours. Suddenly, everything changed: a bus arrived, transforming the ordeal into a comfortable 45-minute ride. It truly felt as if we had drawn closer to the wider world.

I want to share an event involving my grandfather, the late Chasid Shimon Meir, that remains vivid in my memory. During the election to the Polish Sejm (parliament), my grandfather—despite his deep piety—actively campaigned for the Zionist candidate, opposing Kosov's Chassidic Admo"r and his followers. His enthusiasm for discussing Zionist questions with his Zionist son-in-law, my father, Binyamin Ehrlich of blessed memory, was palpable, as was his joy at the Zionists' victory.

Thanks to the determination of my mother, Dvora, of blessed memory, my sister and I were sent beyond Kosov to pursue an academic education. My father had hoped that, through us, his own future would be secured—that when we went up to Eretz Israel, we would bring him with us. Tragically, he was not granted that privilege. He perished along with all the others in Kosov. May God avenge his blood.

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