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In the years 1925-1939, the Jews of Romania were very much influenced by their leaders who were members of the “historical” Romanian political parties – the Liberal Party and the National Farmers Party. In the elections they voted for these aforementioned parties. Those parties were interested in serving Romanian interests and did not so much take into consideration the Jewish population.

Under the influence of the international situation and the development of the global Zionist movement – whereas the Romanian parties did not look after the true interests of the Jews; promoting Jewish culture, national Jewish faith in the Zionist idea, fighting against assimilation and for equality in the community – the Jews of Romania, headed by Dr. Singer, for the first time established their own list, the “Jewish Party”, with the goal of choosing a Jew to represent them and only their interests in the Romanian parliament.

The Jews of Bacău, who numbered approximately 10,000, were not a negligible force in the elections. They voted for the Liberal Party or for the Farmers' Party like the other Jews of Romania.

Given the influence of the Zionists who were members of the Jewish Community Council, Yisroel Drimer, Yitzhak Avraham, Dr. Shmuel Șabat, the Glassman brothers, Wolf Isser, D. Roşu, Dr. Tecuceanu, the Itzikowitz brothers, and I, as well as other Zionist activists who were not members of the council -- Attorney Glassman, Zigi Drimer, Dr. Reuven Rotenberg, Dr. A Klein – the Jews of Bacău decided to support the Jewish Party in the country-wide elections, a fact that roused fears within the “historical” Romanian

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parties, that they might not receive enough votes in Bacău and they tried to influence the local Jewish population to support them. At first, they tried to influence them through two of the leaders: Uzias Hershkowitz (of the Liberal Party) and Yosef Feldhar (of the Farmers' Party). When the Romanian politicians realized that the Jews of Bacău were nonetheless continuing to support the “Jewish Party”, they tried to exert their influence directly on the leadership that supported the “Jewish Party.”

In this [aforementioned] period of time, I was a member of the Bacău Community Council and head of its division for education and religion, and I had strong influence over the Jews of Bacău.

Minister Professor Burcea together with Attorney Cristian came to my house and asked me to give speeches in at least three election assemblies to persuade the Jews of Bacău to vote for the Farmers' Party, so that the minister would be elected a member of the Romanian parliament. In exchange, they promised me all the doors of the government offices would be open to me should I ever have any need.

But my answer was, “Honorable Minister, I cannot promise to do what you have asked of me, because I represent the Zionist Jewish Party…”

In 1942, a telegram was received in the Bacău Jewish community from the “Jewish Center” in Bucharest, announcing that Member of Parliament Robu, of the antisemitic Cuzist Party ^[1], was visiting all the Jewish communities of Romania and had in his possession two Torah scrolls for sale.

Out of caution, the “Jewish Center” recommended to all the Jewish communities of Romania not to buy them, for fear of retaliation by the regime.

The Bacău Community Council decided not to buy the Torah scrolls. I, who was a member of the Bacău Community Council and head of its division for education and religion, decided that I nevertheless would buy them, as a private individual and not as a representative of the community – even though I was afraid of the possible danger…

For that purpose, I contacted a police officer named Cristascu of the Bacău police force and I asked him to help me obtain the two Torah scrolls.

For the sake of caution, I convinced Cristascu to join me at the meeting, with the excuse that he had detained me for interrogation, and he joined me.

Robu was staying at Itzik Mandel's hotel, in the city center. This hotel was in one of the buildings where Jewish families lived on the ground floor.

I entered Robu's room with Cristascu, and I bought the two Torah scrolls for 50,000 Lei. And I told him I would go get the money…

Immediately, I went down to Abraham Bigman and Lazar Singer who lived in that building on the ground floor. I filled them in and said that after I received the Torah scrolls into my hands, I would throw them through the window into the courtyard of the hotel, and they would catch them and take them home.

Robu had agreed to my advice and to these conditions, because he wasn't interested in having people see Jews leaving

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his room with Torah scrolls. And so it was: I paid the specified price, took the Torah scrolls and threw them out the window.

Following this incident, I feared for my life and I had to stay at the home of some relatives, the Hass family of the Mărgineni neighborhood.

After several days passed, it became known to the Jewish Community Council that I had bought the Torah scrolls from Robu. They proposed an arrangement to return to me the money I had spent for the scrolls and in exchange I would hand over the scrolls into the possession of the community.

According to them, I was obliged to give the community the scrolls, because when an organized community exists, there is no sense in having a private individual holding onto Torah scrolls that the community is interested in. The leadership of the community turned to Rabbi Moshe Cahane Blank to deliberate and decide in whose hands the Torah scrolls should remain. I was called to the discussion. The discussion lasted a week. A number of other highly respected Jews in the city were invited to express their opinions: Grad, Nachmanson, Naftali, Jan Singer.

The decision was accepted unanimously: the two Torah scrolls would remain with me and not be handed over to the community…

Today I feel pride that I was willing to take upon myself those trials and tribulations, and fear as well, and all of that was not in vain. I brought the two Torah scrolls to the Land of Israel…

Translator's footnote

1. A right-wing national Christian party. Return

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“Here, I've found Bacău!” I thought, when I saw how images and events, deeds and incidents, arose in my memory as I thumbed through a very old book of mine about this sacred community.

There was a Jewish community in Bacău starting in the 17^th century. Attesting to this is the existence of a gravestone from the Hebrew year 5464 (1704) in the old cemetery in Cremenei Street. And there are many other gravestones and additional stone monuments from the 18^th century, among them that of the “Maggid” ^[1] Issaschar Ben Yehuda Leib, from the year 1763.

The register of the local Hevra Kadisha, which opens in the year 1774, teaches about many actions and events that took place, powerful events in the Jewish community This register has been preserved till today. Examining it, we can see the tremendous activity of the “Hevra Kadisha”. Among its activities were some of an economic and societal nature: tending the sick, taking care of the ritual bath, making judgments with regard to laws of commerce, and more. This “Hevra Kadisha” continued to exist in Bacău till 1841.

A Talmud Torah society is mentioned as of 1828. Associations of Jewish workers – Workers of Justice – also existed. Their functions – economic and also educational, communal, social and even ethnographic – had great importance. The guild of the Jewish tailors was established in 1832. In the government archive in Iaşi ^[2] there are documents that deal with and discuss this guild. In 1851 the Jewish shoemakers' guild was renewed. During the 19^th century, various Jewish organizations appeared, with cultural goals, for mutual aid and charity, economic activity, and religious associations. Among them, we should mention The People's Charity

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which operated in Bacău during the years 1870-1968. Special importance was ascribed to it because it was founded by M. Schwartz, an educator and author of textbooks, who also directed the Jewish school in the years 1869-1871.

A.D. Birenberg, author of The Chronicles of the Jews of Bacău, mentions in his book various events according to the local tradition passed down orally. In the year 1803, when the rabbi of the sacred community of Bacău, a native of Botoşani , passed away, a student of that rabbi who was also from Botoşani was brought to serve in his place. The new rabbi was Rabbi Yitzhak. He tended to be strict about keeping the commandments and he was modest in his ways. Rabbi Yitzhak used to mix his tobacco with fiber so that he wouldn't enjoy smoking his pipe overmuch. On secular days, he used to eat only cornmeal mush (mamaliga); only on the sabbath and holidays did he eat bread. Rabbi Yitzhak studied Torah with zeal. Rabbi Yitzhak used to say – jokingly – that he liked rich people because they didn't bother him, whereas poor people were serious trouble, because he could not help them the way he wished to. He was considered a tzadik, a righteous man, who performed wonders and miracles for his people. R. Yitzhak passed away in 1865. After his death, two other rabbis officiated, both from the sacred community of Botoşani. One of them – R. Alter Yoinus –who passed away in 1873 – wrote the book “Divrei Moshe” which was published by his sons after his death. The second rabbi, R. Alter Leibel, was the son of the currency exchange dealer.

In Bacău there were ritual slaughterers who also filled the role of cantors. In the 19^th century there were also some professional cantors, among them Yehudi Hazen (who passed away in 1822), Berl Hazen, Velvel Bendel, Yosef Burach – a poor and pious man who arrived in Bacău from the town of Târgu-Neamţ.

The synagogues were, for the most part, under the sponsorship of the guilds, such as the tailors' guild (1815). An inn on Tavernelor Street was donated to the synagogue; income from it went to obtain firewood for the destitute. In the city there were more synagogues: those of the teamsters (1880), the furriers (1848), the “young tailors” (1875), the shoemakers (1876), the wagoneers (1876), the builders (1883), and others.

The Jewish hospital was established in 1865 (in the form of a “hekdesh” ^[3]) at the initiative of and with financial support (100 gold pieces) from the renowned Dr. Miselis who arrived in the city and settled in it in the year 1830. A talented physician, an educated man, progressive in his views, who loved his people. Among the Jewish doctors in Bacău in the 19^th century, especially notable were Dr. Bruder, Dr. Turceaner and Dr. Marcowitz. They filled government roles as well. Also mentioned is the name of another doctor – or maybe a paramedic – Zerach Hay Cohen, who worked in Bacău around the year 1800.

Jewish craftsmen had an important role in the city. They worked in many different occupations. One of them, Meir Leib, was also a talented sculptor. He sculpted the adornments of the Holy Ark of the local synagogue, which burned in the year 1853.

Known to us are names of Jewish tailors in Bacău from the beginning of the 19 ^th century. Some of them were called by nicknames.

Among the Jewish klezmer musicians Avraham Wolf Lemesh stood out; he made influential contributions to the

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dissemination of Romanian folk songs throughout Romania. He led an ensemble of Jewish and Roma musicians. It is also known that Yakov Pesantir, a klezmer musician and chronicler who wrote a book called “Chronicles of Romanian Lands,” played for a long time in a band of this sort.

Among the many Jewish carpenters who were in Bacău, one was among the founders of the town Parincea.

The first gas lamps in the city were installed by the Jew Vigdor Shleifer. One of his sons, Shaye Vigdorscu, excelled in making ironwork.

In Bacău there was a large number of Jewish merchants (wholesale and retail). The wholesalers brought goods even from Leipzig (Lipska). One of them, Zisha Focsaneanu, was from a large family whose members spread out in the cities of Moldavia (Iaºi, Roman, Falticeni, Târgu-Neamţ) and filled an important role in the development of commerce in that principality.

After the Treaty of Adrianople (1829), the economic importance of Bacău increased. Among other things, there developed trade in varieties of grain that were imported by wagons and by boat. Many merchants got rich, and some even reached grand wealth of up to 50,000 gold pieces, like Velvel Hanas and Yoel Kaufman.

In parallel to the economic development, knowledge of reading and writing in the Romanian language spread. There appeared “letter writers” ^[4] such as Michael Fonia or Borech (Baruch) the Scribe. The local Romanian authorities looked favorably upon them.

At the beginning of the 19^th century, life was simple. The roofs of the houses were covered in straw. The poor Jews wore cloth trousers (iţari), a shirt with a sash, and a kapote. ^[5] On their feet they wore slippers or boots, and on their heads “cavuc”, a certain kind of velvet hat. The rich usually wore a shawl instead of a sash. On holidays the poor used to wear an embroidered robe (mintean) and the rich wore kapotes with knotted thread mixed with golden thread (gaitan), and the women wore layered fur coats (cataveica). Jewish women also used to wear Romanian peasant blouses, but their skirts were different from those of the Romanian women (a skirt-blouse called catrinta).

The first Jewish school in which the Romanian language was taught was opened in around 1830 by the teacher Leib the Scribe (Hasofer) (who died around the year 1882). Classes were conducted in Yiddish. Between 1832-1860 there was a teacher of German in Bacău named Ziffer. In 1863 the community established the first modern (as opposed to traditional) school which operated only for two years (1853-1865). The principal of the school was Yosef Hayim Grinberg. One of his descendants was the famous Jewish Romanian painter Vermont.

In that period, on Sabbath afternoons, Jewish men and women gathered, danced the hora, and played various games such as “opinca”, “băbuţa” and others. Rabbi Itzikel of Buhuşi forbade those activities and the phenomenon ceased.

At first, a number of wealthy Jews who had not been elected headed the community organization;

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they gained this appointment simply on account of their wealth. In 1821, a rich Jew named Aharon ben Mottel acted according to his own desire, a fact that aroused the community to organize free elections. In the year 1854 the Jewish community of Bacău was recognized by the governing authorities as a non-profit association.

The Haskalah ^[6] movement quickly penetrated and influenced the Jews of Bacău. A number of its representatives were active in a notable way. It is appropriate to mention one of them: Abraham Leib Lobel (nicknamed “iron headed”) (1831-1899), an assimilated man of the Enlightenment, an editor of newspapers and journals, who disseminated Haskalah ideas.

Lipele Rudic (also called Lipe Rudescu) was a unique personality, a famous author and poet, a man of the Haskalah. He published several compositions and poems in the style of Berl Broder, Velvel Zbarjer, and Abraham Goldfaden.

The development of industry and commerce led to changes in life in Bacău. New forms of economic and spiritual life led also to societal changes. In the city, and in the Jewish street, various associations of various ideological bent and purposes were established...

The first World War (in Romania: 1916-1918) caused the population much suffering, but together with that hopes arose.

Dr. Herman Aroneanu (1881-1920) played an important role in the development of the workers' movement in the city. He was murdered in the basement of the police-security forces (Siguranţa) in Bacău. His death influenced the people and served as inspiration for the composing of a folk song. I recall a number of verses (here in loose translation):

Terrified from sorrow,
Children crying
And saying with tears,
We want Papa!

Papa is no longer,
He will never return
He went to fight
For human rights.

Because Lieutenant Commander Poltzer,
That dirty dog
Spitefully killed
Dr. Aroneanu.

“Old man Borech” Markowitz from the town of Moineşti was a fascinating character, who was active in the workers movement between the world wars. I met him in Bacău in 1946-1948. He was of short stature, broad shoulders, and a round face ringed by black whiskers,

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with eyes full of energy. “Old Man Borech” was a passionate man who loved people. The store he managed in Moineşti was more of a pretext than an economic enterprise.

I should conclude by pointing out a unique person, Dr. Brucker, a dear man who continued to give medical advice and provide care for patients even after he passed the age of 80. In addition to medicine, he was interested in the history of the Jews of Bacău. He gathered a lot of material and put together files filled with snippets from newspapers, as well as notebooks filled with records of Jewish Bacău.

Translator's footnotes

1. An itinerant preacher, known for narrating religious stories. Return
2. Sometimes referred to as Jassy. Return
3. A communal infirmary, hospice, or shelter for the poor and transient. A poorhouse. Return
4. People in traditional Jewish communities whom one could hire to write letters to government agencies in the official language of the state, i.e., Romanian, Polish, Russian, Hungarian, etc. Return
5. A long coat of medieval origin worn by Jewish men. Return
6. The Jewish Enlightenment. Return

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Memories… memories…

At first, the pain was so sharp that I forbade myself from drifting back into them. I kept asking: What remains of Târgu Ocna? I was expelled from the town in the summer of 1941, like every other Jew. We were driven out of our home, tossed aside like a broken tooth.

After 1944, I returned to that town at the foot of Mount Mâgura. What I felt was heartbreak – an urge to renounce the place, as though I had never known it, to erase the suffering I had endured there.

And yet, when I was asked to write about my memories of Târgu Ocna, I could not refuse. The very thought of it – unwelcome, unbearable, painful – would not leave me in peace. It haunted me, pressing in on me at all hours. Sometimes I would wake in the night, asking myself: In the end, what is there for me to tell about Târgu Ocna, about my childhood and youth? Do I even have a story at all?

These questions stirred up memories.

I began to recall things I believed long forgotten. Within weeks, the memories consumed me. I felt there would be no rest until I set them down on paper.

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“Shtetl” or an Economic, Medical and Leisure Center?

I ask myself now: what was the main economic driver of this region? In the past, such a question never occurred to me. Was it a shtetl? An “economic center”? Or perhaps a “center for medical treatments and leisure”? The town prospered. Lying along the Trotuș River, it was a modern town – quite different from the traditional Jewish shtetl, though it reminded me of the Jewish towns I had read about in the stories of Sholem Aleichem. Here I'll list a few important economic drivers:

1. Production, processing and sale of Salt.
2. The oil business; drilling and extraction took place in the area, with some wells remaining active for many years. A number of them were owned by a mixed Jewish family named Christia, as well as by the Jew Chaim Tuvia.
3. A resort and medicinal baths. facilities once stood here, though they were destroyed by German bombings during the First World War.
   We ourselves experienced German shelling during that war. From Cireșoaia Hill, the artillery targeted and destroyed the taller buildings of our town. Much of Târgu Ocna was damaged, only partially rebuilt between 1920 and 1940.
   The town had two railway stations, about two kilometers apart – one in the south and another in the center. Transportation was supported by buses and numerous cars, especially during the summer. Then, traffic was lively along the road that wound through the mountains, connecting Târgu Ocna with neighboring towns. In this way, goods and supplies flowed in, and tourists and vacationers could easily reach us. The well-known resort of Slănic-Moldova, just 16 kilometers away, had no station of its own; its guests relied on Târgu Ocna's.
4. Near the town were several tanneries and lumber mills. On the hills to the south lay vineyards. Commerce bustled in the town, and the banks of Bacău and insurance companies from București even established branches in Târgu Ocna.

All these made the town the most important economic center in the western part of the Bacâu county and even for regions near Transilvania, Ciuc and Trie Scaune. 

The center of town resembled a shtetl – though more developed than the classic Ukrainian shtetl so often depicted in Yiddish literature. The Jews of Târgu Ocna were concentrated in one central district. Out of a population of 10-12,000, about 1,500 were Jews, and their presence gave the area a distinctly Jewish character. This district encompassed the town's main street, Carol Street, which ran south all the way to Costache Negri Street. Its northeastern boundary was marked by the Vâlcele River, which like the Slănic river, flowed into the Trotuș. To the south, the district reached the

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“big” train station – Târgu Ocna proper – as opposed to the smaller “Salina” station (Salt Mine).

The Jewish streets converged on the Strada Mare (the “Great Street,” also known as Carol Street). This road stretched from the hills near the railway line across town in the direction of Aiud, leading to the central station at Ghimeș-Palanca, which before the First World War had been the border between Romania and Austria-Hungary.

There were some 400 Jewish families in Târgu Ocna. Most were merchants or craftsmen. Shopkeepers and artisans lived along Strada Mare and Costache Negri Street, while on nearby side streets Romanians, Armenians, Hungarians, and Greeks kept their own small businesses.

The Jewish community was also well represented in the liberal professions: medicine, law, accounting, and real estate.

Farmers from nearby villages would come on Mondays (market day) to buy various products and sell their wares. They'd sell to the Jewish merchants grain, beef, dairy products, wool, fabrics, crockery, and artworks made by rural craftsmen. On Mondays, from the early morning hours until midday, Strada Mare and nearby alleys were teeming with activity. Stores and workshops were full of people. It was difficult to make one's way through those streets.

Buyers, brokers, and sellers gathered everywhere. On the other days of the week, trading activity was more limited, and traffic was relatively quiet and active on a smaller scale. On those days, residents from nearby villages arrived. These were not farmers who came to sell their products and buy goods needed for their homes, but sophisticated and enterprising people: landowners and land-lease owners, members of the rural intelligentsia, doctors, priests, and teachers, as well as owners of rural enterprises such as forest timber processing plants, quarries, or coal mines, and specialists who worked in these enterprises.

The supply in Jewish stores was able to meet demand. The supply could meet any demand, no matter how great. RCA or Philips radios, Columbia or Odeon gramophones were sold in Ochberg's, Magirescu's, Dolinger's, or Epstein's stores. Coty and Houbigant perfumes were sold in Marcu Davidovich's store and at Sasha Grinberg's pharmacy. Singer or Naumann sewing machines; bicycles – I don't remember their brand, but I remember they were sold in installments in Magirescu's and Dolinger's stores. Agfa and Kodak cameras, photo paper, film, and chemicals needed for development – at Magirescu's and Ochberg's. Pork chops from Prague that were properly prepared and brought from there. Fish roe from Manchuria; French champagne (a competitor of Moët and Reims) was sold at Eizenfratz's and Denali's (a Greek who felt comfortable among Jews). Clothing and fabrics made of pure cotton and the finest and best wool, or of pure natural silk – some made in Romania and some imported – were sold

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in the stores of Avramovich-Lira, Marcu Davidovich, Yitzhak Aronovich, and others. Shoes made in Cluj or Timișoara, or imported from France or Italy, were sold in the stores of Avraham Noiman, Spirman, Shtrul Weiss, and others.

In short, it was possible to buy anything and everything in this small Moldavian town. If something was missing – a product of a certain type or quality – the merchants were ready to bring it even within 24 hours. The merchants had a “word of honor,” and they kept their word. Every evening, one of the Jewish agents – Piko Leibovich or Markovich, alternately – armed with detailed orders and supplier addresses, would head out to București to purchase products and merchandise, returning on the next evening's train with those orders fulfilled.

In the shtetl there was only one large building: the Great Synagogue. It stood on Ferdinand Avenue, not too far from the elementary school, where the road split in two. There was always a line to wait at the entrance to the road that led to Nestaski's garden via the bridge over the Trotuș River.

The Great Synagogue was a large and impressive building. Its interior walls were decorated with the symbols of the twelve tribes of Israel and other symbolic paintings, all colorful and varied. The plaza in front of the Great Synagogue was covered with green grass that kept its color throughout the year. The lawn was surrounded by an iron fence, and a stone wall stood next to it – a wall similar to the city walls. The wall bordered a sidewalk that was about five or six meters lower than the lawn. A Jewish wall that did not appear threatening, without any military aspect, but rather a stone wall likely built to support the weight of the ground due to differences in height.

I do not know when the Great Synagogue was built. Based on its architectural style, I assume it was constructed at the beginning of the 20th century. It served as the spiritual center of the Jewish community; at the same time, it functioned as a mixed elementary school – boys and girls – Jewish-Romanian. In the courtyard of the Great Synagogue stood an industrial-style building that served as a matzah bakery for Passover. They worked in the factory for several months each year. The shamash (beadle) lived in a small, low house nearby. His duties, like those of any shamash in any other community, were to ensure the cleanliness of the synagogue and the adjacent buildings, to wake the Jews of the town on the days of selichot so that they would come to pray, to organize tashlich on the banks of the Trotuș River on Rosh Hashanah, to prepare and teach the boys for their bar mitzvah, and more. The shamash, a Jew from Transylvania – unfortunately I don't recall his name – fulfilled his duties very well. We, the town's children, were not pleased. We were angry with him for not letting us play at the end of recess and for calling us in for prayer. I remember one Sukkot holiday when we hid in the synagogue's backyard and played a game. We had just started playing and were throwing nuts into a small hole when the shamash already called us to return for prayer, and we were very unhappy with him.

Other than the Great Synagogue, there were four or five additional synagogues in the shtetl. One of them, beautiful in appearance, was called the Little Synagogue, even though it was not small at all. The Little Synagogue was located in the center of the town near the central market. Its walls were painted blue and white, and the furniture

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was decorated in the same colors. The Little Synagogue stood near shops and workshops of observant Jews, saving them the time of walking to the Great Synagogue every morning for Shacharit or every evening for Mincha and Maariv. In addition, the Little Synagogue had a cheder where I also studied from the age of four to ten.

The remaining synagogues (three or four) were more modest and smaller. One was located in the northern part of the town on the banks of the Vălcelea River. Another was in the southern part of the town, in the Gioseni neighborhood. The third synagogue was near the Jewish slaughterhouse and the mikveh. Observant Jews lived throughout the town, but most of them lived in the center.

There was a mixed (boys and girls) elementary school in town – the Jewish-Romanian school. It was located opposite the city hall in the center of the town, on Ferdinand Avenue. As a child, I perceived the school building as enormous.

There were two non-Jewish schools in town that competed with the Jewish school. The students in the Jewish school were threatened by the children from the two Romanian elementary schools. More than once, students from the neighboring school waited at the end of the school day, cursed at us, threatened us, and even threw stones at us.

The Jewish-Romanian mixed elementary school also served as a spiritual center of the Jewish community. The Great Synagogue located nearby also fulfilled this role. After school hours, the school operated a Jewish municipal public library, and there was also a Zionist youth organization club. During the summer holidays, the school hosted summer camps for students from Jewish schools in other cities, from Bacău and especially from Gala?i.

Many Jews were buried in Târgu Ocna. Many of them perished in the heavy fighting in Cireșoaia during the Great War. They were buried in the Jewish cemetery in the south, in a special section. A community delegation and a parade of students from the mixed Jewish-Romanian elementary school would visit the cemetery on Romanian Memorial Day. A low-level government clerk would accompany them.

If you want to describe the people of your town from over fifty years ago, you won't be able to remember and tell about everyone, and it will certainly be difficult to arrange and organize things. It will be difficult for you to decide where to begin and where to end. In Târgu Ocna there were all kinds of people: rich and poor, hardworking and talented, and also those who were lazy and unsuccessful. Merchants and craftsmen who engaged in all kinds of trades. Tannery owners and mechanical sawmill owners, vineyard growers (among them Jews), and wine tasters. Doctors, lawyers, engineers, architects, teachers, and even professors, including Dr. Jacobowitz. Talented artists who became famous came from Târgu Ocna; I will mention

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two of them: a Romanian and a Jew. The first is the Romanian actor Mircea Septilici. Romanian Jews who immigrated to Israel were delighted to see him perform there in 1987, shortly before his passing. The play in which he performed a Jewish character was Taki, Yanki and Kadir by the Romanian playwright Victor Ion Popa. The second artist was the Jewish conductor Sergiu Comissiona, who became world-famous for his talent and was part of a Jewish family from Târgu Ocna by the name Comisioner. Today (1988) he lives in the United States and directs the New York Opera. He previously served as the director of the Baltimore Philharmonic Orchestra and for fifteen years was the conductor of the Houston (Texas) Philharmonic, and was also the conductor and music director of the Netherlands Broadcasting Orchestra in Hilversum.

Many hundreds of people from Târgu Ocna deserve to be mentioned here, not necessarily by their names, but by detailing their contributions to the society in which they lived. Unfortunately, our town near Mount Măgura is given only a modest place in this book. This is a book intended to tell about our region and especially about Bacău, its capital. Therefore, I shall be content with what I have said so far.

And certainly the most important thing I have to tell – and we must not forget it in any way – is that the life of our town was cruelly and savagely interrupted one day in June 1941. The Antonescu authorities ordered the evacuation and deportation to Bacău of all the Jews of Târgu Ocna. Within three days, the economic, social, and spiritual life of the town ceased. Life in Târgu Ocna never returned to its former vitality after the Jews were gone. Those who were deported did not return to the town, except for a very small number and for a short time. The Jews could not forgive the Gentiles for their savagery during the deportation, when they were cast out like unwanted objects. They will always remember with longing the period when their town was teeming with life – economic life, spiritual life, and especially the life of Jewish tradition.

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