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by Avraham Zunis
Translated by Theodore Steinberg
Lists and recollections from the shtetl of Ataki (Bessarabia) dedicated to the board of “Emigrants from Ataki and its Surroundings” by Avraham ben Shabtai Zanis, who was born in Ataki in 1884 and lived there until the Second World War in 1941.
List of Streets
The Mountain–The Mountain, the first street, mixed Jews and Gentiles, extended from the top of the hill to its base, where the old Jewish city began.
After 1920, Jews from the old city, grain merchants, rented Gentile buildings on the mountain in order to be near ti buy incoming grain that the Moldavians brought to Ataki.
Beyond the wooden bridge began the new city, or as people called it, “the Market.” All the peasants from the surrounding Wallachian villages, such as Karlshofka, brought to the market their produce, dairy products, and poultry and bought manufactured goods, groceries, haberdashery from the merchants in the market. A list of the inhabitants and merchants in the market, with craftsmen such as tailors and shoemakers.
Synagogue Street (Up to the iron railroad bridge)
by Ezra Nakhis
Translated by Theodore Steinberg
My name is Ezra Nakhis, born February 1, 1918, in Ataki. It is hard to return to Ataki after so many years of wanderings and experiences. Nevertheless, I will recall something.
Ataki was a small town by the Dniester River. The city was on a hill surrounded by hills. Near the town was the city of Mohilevl-Podolski, which belonged to Podolia.
In 1918 the Romanian government seized Bessarabia. This happened at the time when Lenin led the Communist Revolution in Russia. Many people fled from there to Bessarabia for safety.
When we were students, we envied those who lived there in their communist world. When they would celebrate their big holidays–the First of
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May, the Seventh of November, the day marking the announcement of the great victory of the revolution–they would hang huge pictures of their heroes with large banners, and they marched to a military orchestra. We would go into the high attics and watch with envy.
We had to be very careful that no one from the Romanian border patrol would catch us. They would lock people up and beat them. In such cases the parents would come and pay a bribe to get their children back.
Now about the town:
In the center was the square where the Jewish population lived. Glavne Street was the “street with stores” that belonged to the wealthier people. Shops with haberdashery, shoes, stores with new fashions, food stores, shops for wine and liquor with accompaniments like herring and sour treats. Mostly Gentiles visited the taverns that sold their merchandise–pork butts.
On market days, many Moldavans would come from the surrounding villages to sell their goods: vegetables, fruits, chickens, geese, ducks, turkeys, cattle, goats, and pigs. Others came, too–each one yelling loudly after he had set out his treasures. Nor was there any lack of poor people, cripples, who would play a fiddle and get money or food. After selling their goods, the Gentiles visited the shops to buy various things, material for clothes for themselves and their families. Tailors and old-clothes dealers for a small fee would fix up clothing for the Gentiles and their families. They did not care about style.
After clearing their fields and gardens, the peasants prepared for winter. Since there were no factories in town for the peasants to work in, they stayed in their warm homes and drank a bit.
A second street in the market was “the street of craftsmen.” Craftsmen would make caps of fleece that they would sell in the springtime.
Now we move into “Shul Street,” where there many shuls–each profession had its own shul: the tailors, the shoemakers, and so on. The rabbi davened in a beautiful beis-medresh. People called him “Abba.” On the “Days of Awe” he davened in the Great Synagogue–a magnificent building, with marble columns, with a splendid Holy Ark with beautiful ornaments. The women's section was upstairs. In the Great Synagogue, people who were more or less wealthy and could pay davened. Well-known cantors would be brought in and even choirs with a conductor. Every householder took in poor students for meals.
Great was the joy at Simchas Torah, when people made the rounds in the synagogues, women and girls kissed the Torah and wished everyone a good year.
Everyone loved to attend the concerts of cantors, because in addition to religious melodies, they sang Jewish songs. The concerts were held in the Great Synagogue and in other shuls. In those days there was no other entertainment. Better homes also had record players with large horns on which they played records with cantorial music by Yosele Rosenblatt, Koussevitsky, and others.
The Yiddish theater presented more historical pieces: the Sacrifice of Isaac, Shulamit.
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The “hindmost street” stood at the shore of the Dniester. Craftsmen lived there, along with many poor people. In the only two-story building there were soldiers from the Border Guards. (Later on they moved elsewhere.)
The exit from “Shul Street” led to Maidan, where many Gentiles lived. There were nice houses with fine gardens. All government institutions: the primary schools, the bank, the tax office and schools, separate for girls and for boys. There were only five class levels. Anyone who wanted to continue his education had to go to a larger city. Only wealthy children had the possibility to study more, and some became doctors, lawyers. The main building on this street was the church, a beautiful, tall building with a huge garden surrounded by a high iron fence so that the children could not get in. This was the spot to go for a walk. People would go back and forth, some alone and some holding hands. Many marriages came from there.
Let us leave Maidan and turn back. We come to the street that people called “Mehala.” To get there, one had to cross a railroad bridge that led to the bridge over the Dniester toward Mohilev-Podolsk. The Romanians damaged the bridge. Only the supports and other parts remained in the water. The train would come to the bridge and stop. The population in this area was mixed: Jews and Gentiles, but over time the number of Jews declined. The small school for boys was enlarged in 1930. When the wealthy Atiker Gruberg lost his fortune, his buildings were dedicated to the school. They preserved the garden. For taking a plum or an apple, the guilty party would get a good ear-twisting. The “Mehala” was a long street, and from there the road led to the railway station. Every day some thirty people would come through the station from Czernowitz, Yoss and Bucharest. From Veltshinetz the train came to Ataki and stood in the clearing, but it could not go back. The locomotive had to push it from behind. It would bring letters from the children in America and from Romanian cities where many young people worked and studied.
In the empty street near the Dniester, people feared to go out at night because the soldiers would stop them, force them to lie on the ground, in the mud during the summer or the snow during the winter. The Veinzoff family who lived in that street are in Israel and could probably tell more. Our friend Gittl also lived there, and that was a problem because she had to be accompanied home.
From there the road led to the cemetery, which was in the village of Kadian, beyond Veltshinetz. The deceased could not be taken there by auto because there were not yet any in Ataki. Also not by wagon. Those who accompanied the body would return home by way of Mehala. The family would go by carriage or phaeton. The bearers, poor things, who had carried the body for eight or ten kilometers worked hard for their little income. From the same road the way led to the villages Sekuran, Britshan, Lifkan, and further to the big city of Czernowitz. Wagons with good horses
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took merchandise the long way from Ataki to Czernowitz. The trip there and back took a week.
Now I turn to a second part of the shtetl. From the market, one crosses a small bridge, under which streams of water flow from the mountain to the Dniester. When there are hard rains, the streams spread, flood the bridge and often the nearby homes and harm the poor people.
Crossing the bridge, we come to the Old City. Some shops, a few shuls, craftsmen, and on a parallel street there was a second huge shul.
Not far away is Shnirman's oil factory, where a score of people worked. The oil, made from sunflowers brought from surrounding towns, was sold in the shtetl but most of it went to the large cities. Shnirman had a rival. In the “Mehala” there was a large factory. The train would bring in cars of sunflowers and go back with oil. The owners were the Khalfin brothers, rich men with nice homes and gardens. Their children studied abroad.
What did the two factories do for the shtetl? First, they gave employment to several score of workers. Second, they provided the populace with cheap heating from the shells–the sunflower shells. The furnaces were built in a wall between two rooms, and they warmed both rooms. The shells would be put into the furnace through a little door and heated until it was warm. The people could sit on a sofa and warm their bones. People heated things up for the night so they could sleep in warmth.
The Old City extended to the mountain on one side and on the other side to the Dniester.
Far from the city were large woods. In one forest there was a large monastery with nuns and churches. Once a year, they marked a great holiday for Jesus Christ. Thousands of pilgrims from the whole area would come to pray. This was the opportunity for a large market.[a]
The members of the illegal communist party would use the noise and chaos of that day to carry out their propaganda and distribute diatribes against the capitalist regime. When the police showed up and tried to seize them, they ran wherever they could.
Now we go to the Old City, where the road to the mountain begins. It is quite a long way. At its start, there are some small businesses, the tavern of the Cherkis family, where they would celebrate when they returned from the fair. Further on was a large shul for the neighborhood.
Some of the residents would sell grain to the peasants–wheat, rye, ears of corn, sunflowers. The grain was stored in special warehouses and was later sold to large merchants. The sunflowers supplied the oil factories.
The owners of the factories were very wealthy men. They only married within their ranks in order to prevent strangers from participating in their kingdom.
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In winter, when snow fell on the mountain, we boys and girls would come with sleds made of wood or iron. From up on the mountain we let ourselves go down to the Old City, one after the other, betting on who would be first. Sometimes someone would overturn, receiving a blow or even breaking a hand or a foot. In such cases it was hard to wait for the next year in order to be in the game.
Because the mountain stood opposite Mohilev-Podolsk, it was used as an observation point for those who wanted to watch the celebrations of the Bolshevik holidays.
From the mountain, the road extended to the villages that supplied the shtetl with vegetables, fruits and provided the merchants with the things they needed.
In my opinion, in those years about a thousand families lived in Ataki. There were no medical facilities in the shtetl. The pediatrician, Dr. Fleck, was known. He also attended to elderly patients. Sometimes he visited patients at home. Often he took no fees.
Later on came Drs. Goldenberg and Rosenthal. There was also a Christian doctor, very ugly, who was called “Ratza.” People compared him to a poor woman named Ratza (who sold bagels and rolls at the gymnasium).
The barber-surgeon Sedik had many patients and helped sick people no less than a good doctor would have. He did cupping for those with colds and used leeches for blood pressure. He was quite popular because he took small fees and often helped more than a doctor.
Another barber-surgeon was Moritz Rosenzweig, who was also not too bad. There were also two midwives, one called Madame Kazvik and the other Sonia Laguza. They each had their clients and both had great experience. All of Ataki's children passed through their hands. When it was necessary, people went to a doctor. There were cases when women died because the hospital was far off in Soroka, eighty kilometers from the shtetl. No one yet knew about Caesarian sections.
About medications: in Lehrman's large apothecary a couple of women worked. Later his son learned to be a pharmacist. There were also drugstores that were allowed to sell medical equipment, but they were not permitted to sell medicines. The owner of the drugstore in the Old City was Froymshtick and of the one on Shul Street was Rosenzweig and of the one in the Maidan was Slutzker.
Slutzker was also the government rabbi, who registered children's births. He was also a history and religion teacher in the school and in the gymnasium.
The Gentiles learned with a priest and we with the Rabbi Slutzker.
He was an active Zionist and did a lot of work with the youth organizations “Shomer haTzair,” “General Zionists,” and “Gordonia.”
Let me return to medical matters in those years. When poor people and their children became ill, they could not pay
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the doctor or the barber-surgeon. They went to the government clinic in the village of “Karlarashufki.” There the ill were seen without payment. But there were long lines. Gentiles from the villages also came to that hospital. People would come in the middle of the night to get in line, and they often had to wait a couple of days to be seen by a doctor. Consequently, the ailing poor often went first to Belz, Kishinev, or Soroka. The leading institution of the area was in Soroka.
Now I will turn to the entrance of the Old City. On the right side of the stream that led into the Dniester were the public bath and the mikveh. On one day women would bathe on the next men. There were no bathtubs. There was a large room with faucets for cold and hot water. One had to bring a basin from home. Mothers brought along their children, boys and girls. Men brought brooms made of leaves and went to the shvitz [sweat] room. Whoever had a strong heart went to the terrace and enjoyed it, then went to the mikveh.
Rich people had basins of tin in their homes. They would set up a samovar by the chimney of the furnace. They filled it with cold water, heated it with corncobs until the water was good and warm. The whole family would take turns bathing in the same water.
This was quite a bit of work, because then the water had to be poured out, so this system was used only in winter when it was hard to go to the bath and it was likely to cool off.
In summer it was totally different. People would put a barrel in the courtyard and fill it with water. The sun would heat it. Then everyone could bathe. This was cleaner than the basin in which a whole family would bathe in the same water.
Many women would heat water on the stove in wooden tubs and bathe their children. In the summer it was easier and everyone went to the Dniester. On one side the women and girls would bathe by the broken bridge. The men, boys, and students, when they had time, loved to gather there. Some liked to read a book or to sunbathe or to swim in the river. They had to be careful, because there were no lifeguards. It was forbidden to swim far out or the soldiers on watch would shoot, because they feared lest someone would cross over to the communist side.
In the evenings, young and old would gather by the water. It was happy, and the time flew by. It would happen that someone, usually children, would drown. That was very hard on everyone.
A little further on was the spring. The water that came from the mountain was cold and tasty. Women would go there to wash clothes.
Members of the Zionist movement, each with its own group and leader, would gather at a flat area on the mountain for gymnastics, marching, conversations, dancing, singing, and noshing.
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In the evening they would return home, having drunk the good water, get into a circle, dance, and celebrate until late at night.
Every period emphasized the education of the young. One of the most important organizers of the Zionist young people was Benjamin Duchovny. When he came to the country in the thirties, he was called Michli. He was a writer and put out many books. A second leader of the young people was Shloyme Berman, who now lives in Kibbutz Sha'ar ha-Amakim. Also Yoske Shternik. All of them knew Hebrew, but more than these was the government rabbi Slutzki, who made aliyah in those years.
At the same time there was an organized communist party that fought against the Zionist youth and called on them to join the communists. In some cases they succeeded. The police followed them. Among them were the children from some fine families: the Roitman, Duliar, Ackerman, Hermans. The police would arrest, smash their bones, and put them in prison.
Rich parents sent food and clothing to the jails, and the detainees would divide them up among themselves. They received much help from the “YOKN,” which collected money from those who wanted to contribute so the detainees would not die of hunger.
The communist young people were sure that their ideas would bring relief for the Jewish people, because antisemitism was pervasive. But when the Soviets seized the area and took over, people were disappointed. People quickly saw that this was a balloon filled with hot air. But then it was too late.
The surrounding countries–Poland, Bulgaria, Romania, Czechoslovakia–now had the same regime as Russia. America was far away, and money was scarce.
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– brother of Ezra Nakhis |
– brother of Chanya |
I say to you, “Let's see what's going on in the world.” The “world” was the home of Vaskaboinik. We went there with noise, dancing, and singing, and the police broke in. Some of us escaped through the window, but about twenty young people remained. We were arrested and taken to the police station, where we spent the whole night. Our parents did not know what happened to us, because the police had never before fallen upon Zionist young people. This time, having no communists, they decided to go after “HaShaomer haTzair”. They interrogated us to see if we were connected to the leftist movement, and because we lived near the border, they decided to send us to the military court in Yoss.
The government rabbi, Slutzki, with other dignified citizens of the city, got involved and in a little while we were freed, pending the trial in Yoss. The news that Zionist young people would be judged caused a tumult. The higher rabbi from Kishinev, Rabbi Tzirlson, got involved, and he ordered that the judgment should be annulled. And that was the end of the story.
How did the shtetl observe Shabbos and holidays? The organized young people would meet and go for walks around the Christian villages, in the woods. In the summer, most of them would gather by the Dniester. A large number–men, women, children, brides with their husbands–in the glade near the Maidan. Years ago there had been a stop there for the train that connected the shtetl with the large
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cities of Romania. The rail remained on the right side, and to their right were gardens. On the left there was a place covered with vegetation. The air there was pleasant, and people liked to go walking there or to meet, to talk, or to read.
Not far off was a hill. On Shabbos and holidays we would often have a good time there. Going down from there were vineyards. There we bought inexpensive wine grapes and drank grape juice.
Aside from the government shul, there was also a Talmud Torah in town where children were taught how to pray, Chumash, and how to put on tzitzis. Children from poor homes learned there. They paid nothing, and they were also fed. The Jewish community maintained the Talmud Torah. Children of wealthier parents studied with private rabbis, with Moyshe Leibeles, Avraham the Black, Shmileib Royzn, or Velvel Brand, who was also a teacher in the Talmud Torah.
Many children studied in the “Tarbus” School, where, despite the opposition of the government shul, the children learned Hebrew. The first director was Grubman, a Zionist. The teachers: Hochman, Samet, the Galaster daughters, and others. On Maidan there was a large kindergarten where little children also learned Hebrew. They were prepared for later study in the “Tarbus” school.
The shtetl had two libraries: a large one on Maidan, established by the Zionists. There one could get books by Sholem Aleichem, Mendele Moycher Seforim, Sholem Asch, Y. Peretz and Markish, as well as translations from Russian, German, and other languages. This was a more aristocratic library.
The leftists had their library, a more proletarian one. It was open only in the evening.
Some Atikers subscribed to the newspapers from Kishinev, and sometimes a Jewish newspaper from Warsaw would make its way into town. People also read the Romanian newspaper from Bucharest, the “Adevar” [the “Truth”].
Yiddish performances at Leib Beilis' were given by Zaydee Zilbershteyn, Shmarak and his sister, and many others. The money that people paid was dedicated to the poor. In summer, the city students staged parables by Eliezer Shtaynberg, which charmed the young people. Also, traveling Yiddish troupes would come sometimes. They would appear without scenery, in badly lit halls. Although the repertoire consisted of cheap operettas, one had to put up with them. The artist Zina Zlataya and her husband Leibovitsch, Ziegler and his daughter, Sevilla Foster were very popular.
The Volfensen Troupe in the thirties had a young girl and called her Sidi Tal. Later she became a famous artist, well-known throughout Romania. She was especially famous when she appeared in Bucharet in “The Treasure,” “The Yellow Shadow,” and others under the direction of the well-known director Yakov Shternberg.
In 1935 I traveled to Czernowitz with my friends. When I returned to Czernowitz after the war, I went to see my old home. The small, clean shtetl of Ataki no longer existed. The market, part of the Old City, and part of Maidan were gone. Where they had been was now a park with walkways. On some days, music was played there and Gentile girls
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and boys had a good time.
There were no Jewish children. The houses that remained had been sold to the Roma. They now owned the town. The Jewish population had gone to the larger cities: Czernowitz, Belz, Kishinev, and other cities in Russia. Now they are coming to us in Israel.
So ends the story of Ataki. When people come to Ataki by train or car, they see nothing. Everything is strange. You recognize nothing. Remaining are the cemetery and the Great Synagogue, which has been turned into a club.
That is the reality.
The book that the Atikers will produce will remain for us only a memory.
Original footnote:
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