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May G-d Remember

May G-d Remember

Six million Jews, of the holy nation, who were killed, slaughtered, burned, strangled and murdered with all types of cruel and unusual deaths by the Nazi enemies during the frightful years of 5600-5605  (1939-1945) for the sole iniquity of being members of the people of faith, the seed of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

May G-d Remember

And have mercy on the ashes of the slaughtered people of Israel, the nation that sanctified G-ds name, who were brought in large groups to the gas chambers and crematoria, and their bones were turned into cinders and scattered as ashes on the fields of the gentiles, without leaving a trace and memorial, or a sign of their life and activities on earth.

May G-d remember

And bind in the bonds of eternal life the communities of Rozniatow and environs, along with the hundreds of thousands of holy communities in the Diaspora of Europe, who were cut off and annihilated in the prime of their lives, the elderly and youths, fathers and children, mothers and infants, teachers with their students, and the destructive Satan poured out his wrath also on the synagogues of the communities of Israel.  Destruction came upon everything.

We will remember

The simple Jews, as well as the cultured ones, young and old, upright and precious, charitable and full of good deeds;  the dreams, hopes, burdens of the soul, lofty desires, love of fellow Jews and love of the Land of Israel.

We will remember

And lament for them with all 22 letters of the alphabet, with which they sang songs of hope.

We will remember, and not forget!


Engraved in memory of the martyrs of the communities of Rozniatow, Perehinsko, Broszniow and environs, by the Jewish National Fund.

These do I remember.

It is impossible to describe in words the destruction of our city, for it is completely impossible to find proper expression for our great grief over the loss of six million Jews, pure and holy, who were murdered during the frightful period of murder of the Jews of Europe.

We stand aghast and startled due to the holocaust, and it impossible to find a person who is able to lament properly over this destruction, and therefore the grief will not be assuaged, the tears will not dry, and our souls will be bound forever and will not be extinguished further.

It is now impossible to do anything for these holy martyrs.

It is impossible even to erect a monument over their graves, for the accursed cruel enemy who murdered them burned their bodies, and it is not known where their ashes lie.

However, we cannot forget them!



In this book that is before us, we unite ourselves the holy memory of our dear fellow townsmen, who were murdered in such a frightening and terrible manner, and for whom there are no words in the mouth of a person on earth to describe properly.

Many of us were troubled, and many of us hesitated before we commenced this holy work of preparing a Yizkor book for the community of Rozniatow and the adjacent communities.

We realized that this is not a common task. We knew that there would be very many questions during the preparation of this book, for we must prepare a book from ashes… Very few facts reached us about the history of Rozniatow, its inhabitants, and their activities. There were very few who survived and who were able to write about the life in our town, whether from an economic perspective, or more importantly, from the perspective of the Jewish population.

Nevertheless, after much deliberation, it was decided to take on this holy task, to perpetuate the memories of fathers and mothers, children, brothers and sisters; an entire community that was destroyed

Their souls fluttering in the grave demand of us to establish a memorial in the form of a Yizkor book; an eternal monument to the life that was cut of mercilessly. As well, this book should serve as an inerasable mark of Cain, upon the forehead of the Satan, who like wild beasts spilled the blood of the elderly and children, and even the suckling infants were not spared.

May this book serve as a memorial candle to the souls of the martyrs.

May it stand as a monument and send its cries to the heights of heaven forever.

This Yizkor book is the fruit of the collective labor of our fellow townsmen who live in Israel and the Diaspora, who survived.

All that is written in it is the fruit of the pens of average people, who are not and never aspired to be writers among the Jewish people. In this, we see the special merit of the book, for it is written with simplicity and unpretentiousness.

We also tried to encourage some of our fellow townsmen to describe to us their memories of the events that took place to them during the frightening days of the holocaust.

We gathered photographs and lists, descriptions and documents, line by line page by page, until we completed the book, full of material about the spirit and form of our community, the way of live and environment of Jewish Rozniatow.

The pages of the book are filled with teardrops. The hand of fate saved us while there was still time, but prevented us from closing the grave and reciting the final Kaddish for our dear townsmen, for relatives, and relatives of relatives whom we loved so much, and all of them are engraved on the tablets of our hearts.

This work is the final good dead, and the entire task was done with dedication and great feeling.

This is their monument the holy monument to their eternal memory

The Book Committee

My Town

A poem by Yechezkel Neubauer of Petach Tikva

There once was a small town
At the foothills of the Carpathians, and near to the forests
With a large pond in main path
And a flour mill to its side.

Above the pond was a beautiful hill
With thick trees which spread out to the bottom
And also a beautiful field for walking
Where there is a school, post office and courthouse.

In the center of the city there is a large marketplace
With two ancient wells
A simple path crosses the middle of the marketplace
And twisted alleyways spread out right and left.

Three synagogues stood there together
And the voice of Torah was heard day and night.
A Beis Midrash on the right and a Kloiz on the left,
And in the center was the large synagogue that was destroyed.

Small houses stood crowded together
Like mushrooms after a rainfall
And their white roofs were spread out like a cloth
And sparkled in the sun like opals.

Around the city, to the north and the south
The turtles and bears roam around peacefully
And in the air there is the smell of flowers as well as destruction.

The City and its Walls

Rozniatow was a typical Jewish town in Galicia, with its joys and sorrows, a dear place, where the entire spectrum of the rainbow was represented, and life was interesting and multifaceted; a life of warm Jewish content, of desire to broaden horizons, thirst for Torah and its wisdom, a hope for a better future. Everything that took place in the multifaceted Jewish life of Galicia could be seen through the lens of Rozniatow.

The town was small, and modest by nature. The natives of Rozniatow did not seek fame, and they were happy in their lot. Even during times of siege and suffering it was permeated with love and acceptance of the difficult yoke of the exile, and people would assuage their worry by reciting chapters of Psalms. The synagogue and Beis Midrash were full of people three times a day: during Shacharit, Mincha and Maariv. Along with the sounds of prayer, the sounds of Torah study could be heard from the mouths of pure and G-d fearing Jews, scholars as well as youths who frequented the house of study, who were educated and grew up with the light of Torah and the commandments.

Slowly, changes took place in the life of the city. The youth began to join various movements and factions, and became enthused with the ideas and ideals which swept across the town, from right and left, both religious and free thinking, Zionistic and Socialist.

This was the life, suffering, woes, and joys of the town of Rozniatow.  Light, rejoicing, sadness, good and bad all came together, however over and above everything  there was the light of Jewish life permeated with the warmth of the Jewish family, and of the large, multifaceted community.

And if someone were to ask the town of Rozniatow if it still had a name and memory in the hearts of its children, the answer would be: Certainly, just open this book and read it.  Just as it exists in the recesses of the heart, it also can be found in these pages, which contain hearts that beat about the previous generations, as well as the landscapes.

Read and see that the town is remembered fondly by its children, and its power its power is engraved in our hearts, and just as the hearts of its children live, it is a sign that its memory and treasures will be carried on to future generations.

The editor

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