[Page 350]

For the whole world, official and Jewish, Zamość was one city – and indeed a famous city. In the non-Jewish world, with its noble pedigree, with its name as ‘The Polish Padua,’ and to Jews, because of its great exponents of the Torah, and wisdom, which came from there, or had an influence in Zamość itself. During our generations, and more correctly, in the last century, Zamość became especially popular as the birthplace of the great Yitzhak Leibusz Peretz.

This is what the outside world perceived. The truth, however, is that Zamość consisted of three almost entirely separate cities. Separate in appearance, different in its populace, which resided in these sections of the city, differing in the internal conduct and external relationships – it created an impression as if there were three completely unrelated cities.

These three sections were called: Altstadt, Neustadt and Browar. The real Zamość , meaning the official city, mostly consisted of concrete-walled one and two story houses; there were also three story and even four story structures, such as the ‘Polish Kamienitsa’ for example. The houses were decorated and festooned with architectural ornamentation. Her were the official municipal and national institutions; the representative buildings – the banks, the courts, the Kozioner Rabbiner^[1]…the constantly clean and scrubbed paved streets always mad a festive holiday-like impression, implying that we were just getting ready for a reception of distinguished guests, or possibly a military parade; here was also the entertainment center, theaters, and a cinema; here, the large businesses could also be found, bureaus and merchant houses – this part was called the Der Stadt, or the Altstadt.

Neustadt, which was a subdivision only a half a kilometer away, through Lemberg Way, was the opposite of the Altstadt. There were no concrete-walled houses, that could be seen – the Neustadt was built up mostly from wooden houses; the streets, apart from the center, were not paved, but were muddy, even though they were quite wide. At first glance, that some sort of bold optimist had, sort of, with intent quartered up the Neustadt with wide street of this kind, so that one part should be as far as possible form another. The Neustadt had four marketplaces, large locations, which all year, apart from the market fair days, remained bare, and radiated an abandonment, not being mindful of the fact that here, indeed, one did see a concrete-walled house.

[Page 351]

The Browar, was separated from the Altstadt by barely a kilometer of distance on the Lublin way. Indeed, this was the only paved street that connected the ‘Browar’ to the city. Later, another paved street was added, which led to the jail, which was located on the way to Janowica. There was a quip the people would say: ‘He's being taken on the Janowica’ – meaning to jail.

Why this section of Zamość was called ‘Browar,’ I do not know, possibly it was because at one time there may have been a brewery there.

These three sections of Zamość were not only different in their external structure, which immediately hit the eye of anyone who entered Zamość; also, the residents of these separate three areas, established relationships of such a nature, that it would appear to be three separate cities.

It was particularly seen in Jewish life (it would be more correct to say heard, because contentious disputes, fights, not rarely involving the trading of blows, divided these separate areas of the Jewish community). The Altstadt took the upper hand in this, as in all community issues. The Altstadt had the lead, whether in all spiritual matters from the outset, or in representation – by sending representatives to the municipal or national institutions, by sending delegates to other communities and so forth.

The ‘Browar’ never put up a protest in this connection, that it was being ignored. It was almost ‘understandable,’ because the Jewish settlement there was small, and did not create its own institutions and therefore did not have any pretensions.

In general, the ‘Browar’ thought of itself as a part of the Altstadt, especially after the construction of the large military barracks, and all manner of contractors and jobbers came to live there. All the employees of the government lived in the ‘Browar,’ (including Jews), and the functionaries of the police, whether uniformed, or secret.

Neustadt, however, could not, and would not, put up with this; Neustadt would protest; Neustadt – both with a larger number of Jews, and a different class of people, which was there – common Jewish people, laborers, which had built up an array of institutions, felt imposed on, and thought that the Altstadt exhibited too much power and independent control.

Out of dissatisfaction and protests, there was a transition to even more shape and competitive deeds, until it came to the condition that the Neustadt became entirely stand-alone; it declared itself a separate community with its own dignitaries, even with its own Rabbi. In time, they built their own bath and mikva. In a word – Neustadt became a town like all other towns in Poland. With its own institutions, own representatives.

Altstadt had to consent to this, and recognized the situation. True, in one important point, there was an integration of all three parts, indeed, for the elections of the community; here, the general governmental administration did not recognize the ‘autonomy’ of Neustadt. The community existed for all three parts. It is also true that Neustadt had its own interests, and would put up its own tickets, or it would associate with others in voting blocs who would guarantee the interests of the Neustadt. Also the cemetery was for general use.

Before we proceed further, let us tell the history of this part of the city.

In the historical section, we have previously described the fact that Zamość, at the outset, was constructed as a fortress city. A water canal surrounded the city, and entrance to the city was by way of three bridges, which connected with three city gates. Their names were taken from the direction in which they led: the Lemberg Gate (Broma Lwowska), the Lublin Gate (Broma Lubelska) and the Szczebrzeszyn Gate (Broma Szczebrzesynkc). The last was located near the current Catholic Church, which was reconstructed from the prior church of the fortress.

We, the people of Zamość, would call the gates by the name ‘Brom.’ We used to say: Die Lemberger Brom, Lubliner Brom, etc.

As a fortress city, with military and appointees, Zamość became a large commercial center. The city was constantly full of merchants – wether from the large cities, or from the small surrounding towns, who would purchase the merchandise for their businesses. Apart from the merchants' fair, many different sorts of people would come often to the city, senior military personnel, and inspectors; Zamość was also full of a variety of support personnel for the military, with all manner of franchise-holders from the estates of the nobleman Zamoyski; a variety of jobbers and factors. A number of these factors already remained here permanently, and even acquired that as a name. Who anymore knows the right name of Ikheleh Factor?

Coming into, and going out of Zamość all day, were a steady stream of carts, coaches, laden wagons, and wagons with lumber (we in Zamość referred to them as brikehs). This went on until 9 o'clock at night. Then the bridges would be raised and the city gates were locked. After subjecting them to control, the keys to the city were transferred to the commandant of the fort. Until the following morning, nobody, legally, could come into or go out of Zamość. It was told, that one time, a really senior military official, a ‘right hand man,’ of the Czar himself, had to spend the night out in the open (behind the gates to the fort), because he arrived after the time that the gates had been closed.

[Page 352]

As a result of this process, behind the city gates, from night-to-night, a large number late arrivals would accumulate, and also travelers on foot. It often happened that entire caravans with carts and coaches had to spend the night under the open skies. It was not until Zamość got the railroad, that there was unrestricted entry into the city.

This continued for so long, until a Jew, whose name no one remembers any longer (there are some who believe that this was Itcheh Vigdor's great-great-grandfather), received permission to erect a hostel, an inn, about a half kilometer from the fortress. This was the decree that gave permission to enable building to take place at a distance removed from the fortress. He built his inn on the Lemberg tract and all the wagons and coaches and hauling vehicles that couldn't get to the city before the city gates were locked, all these latecomers, would immediately ride over to the inn, where they had an overnight place for their horses and wagons. Also, these amenities were utilized by those who had no set place to stay in the city where they were traveling to, or those who wanted to travel into the city in the morning, having rested themselves.

With time, it became apparent that this arrangement had many virtues, and the stream of traffic to this inn grew stronger, and the single inn was no longer handle so many guests – both customers for rest and overnight guests. Then, a second inn was built, opposite Itcheh Vigdor's the inn that later belonged to Yudel Koenig's parents. After that, a third one was built.

Seeing as the inns were not only for the use of transients, but also for those who came with horses and wagon, each inn needed to have a rather open and wide place around itself, which caused over time for a rather large four-sided stretch of land to be developed which divided up the land from one side of the Lemberg road into quarters, and ended at the bridge from the Lemberg Gate. It occupied the two cross streets, one of which led to Hrubieszow and the second to the Wilko River. Later, these very streets took on the names Bomba-Gasse and Hrubieszow Gasse.

These inns services not only those who came via the Lemberg road. Also, the late-coming travelers from the Lublin tract, having missed being able to get into the city, would come to this point. This was how the so-called ‘Wikrent’ came into being, that made use of the water that surrounded the Altstadt; which stretches from the Lublin Gate to the inns, of the Lemberg road. The ‘Wikrent’ was later paved, and decorated on both sides with trees, and this alley was one of the most beloved strolling places of the young people. If a guest would come to the city, then he would be taken to this alley. Along this alley, not only once, after the Sabbath speeches, the speakers would often stroll – I recollect Peretz Markish, Melekh Ravitch, Joseph Opotashu, Duber Maklin, and others.

There is also an opinion held, that when the Zamoyskis were in the process of developing a vineyard, that this suburb was to be built on the same plan as the city itself. An indication of this can be seen in the fact that the first inns (the beginning of this settlement) that were built, had covered sidewalks in front (sic: potchinehs) – true they were wooden, with wooden overheads, but they were covered walkways nonetheless, analogous to the ones in the city around the main city council building. Several of them remained up to the last Nazi destruction. We remember them – the wooden covered walkways, that stretched from the houses of Zalman Pflug to Hirsch Fyer, and from Itcheh Vigdor's to Abraham Meilekh's (the carpenter).

With the coming of the built up half-circle (‘Wikrent’) from the Lublin Gate to the ‘Wilko.’^[2] The number of inns grew substantially. The four principal locations were already built, mostly with inns, and the location near the post office was starting to get built up, which at that time was one of the few concrete-walled buildings in the area.

A portion of these inns remained until the time that I left Zamość in 1928, such as the inn of Moshe Fashovich, or Fashevich, where one could get the authentic type of ‘home cooked’ food. Around the inns, ordinary dwellings began to grow, belonging to working people, traders, smiths, sole makers, harness makers, owners of grazing areas for cattle, and in general, places for those class of people for whom acquisition of a home in the city would have been difficult; many other forms of livelihood spring up around the inns, and the entire neighborhood becomes quickly built up, with small single story wooden houses and quickly a housing shortage develops – and residences are snapped up.

[Page 353]

This quick growth of this suburb was aided by the fact that the market day fairs would take place ‘on the Wiko,’ near the river. The peasants would bring their produce and live inventory from the surrounding villages, for sale. Working people who worked on a daily basis, and merchants, would bring their finished goods to sell. Cattle dealers and grain merchants would come to buy; horse dealers to sell, trade or buy horses; fair days in our time took place every Thursday, and brought together large masses from the surrounding villages, with their local regional costumes, and a mix of the various dialects. Zamość was located on the boundary of Poland, Wester Ukraine, and Galicia, where the population was a mixed one.

All of this raised up the surrounding area, and caused streets to begin being built, which give the Wilko the appearance of a city and it was then that it obtained the name Nowa Osada, which Jews started to call Neustadt.

It is indeed because of the large fairs that the Neustadt was built differently from the majority of the Jewish villages of Poland. Because of this, it is worth reviewing how the new streets began to be ‘built;’ and how the various balebatim began to form in these places.

As previously mentioned, the frequent fairs would draw masses of merchants to Zamość from cities and towns from near and far. On the night before the fair, merchants would already have arrived, both from the Altstadt, and from far away, and take hold of a place to set up a ‘stand’ – which was called a budkeh by us (a stall).

There was competition for a ‘good’ location, meaning near the main streets. It therefore occurred, that a number of the merchants would arrive on the previous night, take possession of a location, and even spend the night there, until the morning. This often involved arguments and even coming to blows.

In that period, there was also an institution of the ‘Nod-Strazhnik’^[3] in the Neustadt. There calling was, indeed, to assure order in the ‘allocation of places.’ They also assured that situations potentially leading to violence were defused. Among their functions, also came the duty, or right, to inspect the wagons and to see what was being brought in. It is entirely possible that this was connected to the fact that this was close to the border, and that Zamość was a fortress city. We would attempt to translate the term, ‘Nod-Strazhnik,’ as an elision of ‘Nacht-Strazhnik,’ [sic: a Night Watchman]. Among the Nodstrazhnikehs were Jews. In our time, there was a person named ‘Bereleh Nodstrazhnik’ who was still alive, who had not performed this function for a long time already.

A period was ushered in with the payment of protection money, with interventions, whoever had whatever sort of way, made an attempt to persuade the Zamoyskis, or their administrators to grant them a permanent place, which then developed into a franchise location. Such an individual had, already, to live in the Neustadt, because otherwise, such a franchise didn't work. (After some time, such franchises were even transferred as a dowry).

In the construction of the four new streets, it was necessary to take into account not to damage the inns, and also not to block the peasants who used to come to the fairs. Each of the inns had two substantial gates – one at the front, of the four principal establishments, and one for the rear portion. This caused all subsequent construction of the area to be done on four smaller plots. On a fair day, these too would be full of peasant wagons, those that came without having a place designated for them in advance.

These are the four streets which formed the most important center around the areas:

Two stretched lengthwise with the Hrubieszow Gasse (which we called Rabishoyver). One began on the north side of the Lemberg Gasse, at Yossel'eh Chana-Feiga's inn, the later one which connected up with the location of the firehouse (a large wooden building, where the fire fighters stored their equipment), and took the form of the letter daled [e.g. two sides of a rectangle], crossing the Hrubieszow Gasse – this was to become the horse market in later times.

[Page 354]

The second street began behind the inn where Chaim Aharon-Leib's (Chaim Zimring, or Chaim Rofeh) had his hair-dressing salon, and stretched by Leibusz Szyfer's bakery, up to the White Mekhl's, the place near Synagogue and the Bet HaMedrash – what was later the pig market. Here also a daled took shape against the Hrubieszow Gasse, near Avremelh Notteh's.

The other two streets were on the south side of the Lemberg Way.

One began behind Maleshevsky's inn, near Aharon Golda's, which stretched behind Tischberg's oil factory up to Abraham Manz's mill and oil factory, also forming a daled, up to the Bomba Gasse near the inn where Dovidl Junever lived, and Yankel Kalman's (a son of Kalman the musician) – here was the cattle market.

The second street on this side began from the Lemberg Way behind Itcheh Vigdor's inn. From behind Zwerin's pharmacy location up to the bath street, curving through Melekh Stoller, to the Bomba Gasse and ending behind the inn that later belonged to Dovid-Leib the manufacturer of soda water.

Having the topography of the new settlement to the rear in one's eye, it is then possible to see the entire physiognomy; were have here, in appearance and construction of the city, its economic foundation – the inns; we also see that the entire construction of the city is adapted to cater for the fairs – that which was not desired in the haughty, finely decorated Altstadt, the noise, tumult of cattle, horses and pigs; the shouts of merchants and traders; the entire appearance and animal droppings that remains after a fair…

We also see, according to the names of the balebatim of the various owners of the houses, occupations and institutions, that here, everyone knew one another – there was no one with pedigree family connections. For the large majority, family names were not even known. They were called by the way they looked (White Mekhl), after their families (either their father or mother), after their occupations, and very often with their nicknames.

It is a new settlement, which was brought into being by a common folk element of the people.

A will begins to take shape for a stand-alone community life. It is far to go to synagogue into the city. A Bet HaMedrash of their own is desired, and their own Rabbi. Disputes persist – we have heard of their genesis only through the reverberations in a variety of legends, stories that are passed from mouth to mouth in the course of generations. There is no doubt, that in these tales, times and names get strongly mixed up. According to certain tales, such differences took place already between the Altstadt and the Neustadt, at the time that Chmielnicki organized his Cossack rebellion, which is connected to his murder and destruction of Jewish communities of Poland, Russia, Lithuania, the Ukraine, and the surrounding vicinity.

According to these oral transmissions the Neustadt already had a significant number of Jews at the time of Chmielnicki's assault on the city, who fled their outlying dwellings for [the safety of] the fortified city. It is difficult to be accurate about this. One thing is clear, that Zamość already had a significant number of buildings, and residents from outside of the boundary formed by its fortress walls and canals. As we have already indicated in a prior place the inspection of Zamość in the year 1591 tells us that there were 217 buildings, of which 175 were inside the municipal fortress, and the remainder on the periphery. Without a doubt, a significant count of the houses on the periphery (more than 40) were allocated for the Neustadt, the largest of the suburbs.

We also know, that the last urban plan for the Neustadt was worked out in the year 1822. This does not, however, mean, that the construction of the Neustadt from the outset was not carried out using the Altstadt as a model. This was attempted even without a [formal] plan.

According to the tales we have referred to, during the Chmielnicki march, and the attack on Zamość, the Jewish residents (we have presented this earlier – see pp. 175-178 and 229-230) fled into the fortified city. They returned only

[Page 355]

after Chmielnicki was smashed. However, they did not return alone, along with them, came many refugees from the villages and smaller towns, who fled Chmielnicki's slaughtering, and entered fortified Zamość, and did not return to their prior places of residence. It was hard for them to remain in Zamość; the crowding at that time was very great; the shortage of housing was awful, and only those with means were able to have the luxury of living in the city proper. The poorer element, that did not travel back to the communities that were destroyed by the Chmielnicki bands, was drawn into the Neustadt. They took up residence in the wooden houses. In general, the Neustadt, at that time, consisted of only wooden houses.

By that time, the Neustadt was populated by non-Jewish residents. These were the type that had come to the suburb during Chmielnicki's siege, found empty ‘free’ houses and took possession of them. (As the story is retold…) The Neustadt was no longer an exclusively Jewish neighborhood. However, up to the Holocaust (even before the ghetto was created in the Neustadt for all of the Jews of Zamość), the Jewish part of the Neustadt was the dominant one.

Later on, the Neustadt began to expand in area. After the failed Polish uprising, when they began to quarter military forces in Zamość, barracks were also constructed in the Neustadt on Margolis' property. Margolis himself was the one who actually undertook and carried out this particular construction (it is told that from this contract, he emerged bankrupt).

These barracks were later known as Chaim Fanisker's Yard. A second barracks, also in the Neustadt, was built in Itcheh'leh Dechter's houses. Later on, they were known as Melekh Stoller's houses.

It became quickly evident, that thanks to the fairs, thanks to the military, and large building development, and the addition of population, the Neustadt became an important center of commerce that competed strongly with the city. The economic positions of the Altstadt began to get sapped. A thought process began regarding methods for bringing back commercial activity to the Altstadt. Delegations went to wherever it was necessary and worked out arrangements to take down the fort; that the status as a fortress be taken away from Zamość, and that the city be declared an open city.

This, equally, was in the interests of the rulers in Moscow, who did not want to have a fortified city in Poland, where the ‘revolutionaries’ could fortify themselves. Angry tongues spoke out at that time, indicating that the amount of bribery that was paid to take down the bridges was greater than the original cost of constructing them…

In general, Zamość ceased to be a point with military-strategic value. A manifestation of this change, was the fact that in the tower of the Rathaus, a fireman stood watch in place of a soldier. With his trumpet, he no longer had to sound the alarm about the approach of an enemy army, but rather just sound the alarm about a fire in the city itself, or in the nearby villages and towns.

A sort of economic competition arose, between the two parts of the city. Seeing as, in population, the Neustadt was not very different from the Altstadt, the attitude of the Altstadt to the Neustadt remained lofty, as is the case where people of pedigree look down on people of a lower station in life.

A situation worked itself out over time such that when a Jew from the Neustadt needed to go resolve some sort of a matter in the Altstadt – all the official offices of the regime were there – he needed to dress himself in his festival wear. He need to don his Sabbath kapoteh, shine his boots, and, as you can understand, put on a white shirt. And such a Neustadt person would come to the Altstadt (with us, we also used to say, ‘going into the city’) the city hoi polloi would shout after him: ‘Neustadter Leshnikehs^[4]’ (Forest People). Because of this, fights would often break out between the hoi polloi from both parts of Zamość, in which serious blows were traded.

In general, when we Heder kids from the Neustadt would come into the city, on Saturday after taking our meal, we would go in specific groups for two reasons. Firstly, the street that connected the Neustadt with the Altstadt was 90 percent occupied by Christians. We did not have the certainty that one or another of them might not fall upon us to

[Page 356]

accost a zhid…. if we are in a group, we would not permit this to happen. Secondly, if the toughs from the Altstadt should fall upon us, we would be in a position to defend ourselves accordingly.

I remember that that first slap I received (I think from Lejzor Gandz) was for this reason, that I was a Neustadter Leshnik and had the temerity to come into the orchards of the city to pick good fruit.

In time, a silent antipathy developed between the two parts of Zamość. There were Jews in the city who never set foot in the Neustadt; for someone of stature in the city to come to the Neustadt implied a form of lowering one's self from a higher place… it was simply not worth crawling two kilometers in order to have a look at a muddy new city. On an exceptional occasion, one would ‘lower one's self’ – when it was necessary to attend a happy occasion, or to make a distinction, a tragic occasion at the home of a relative or a mekhutan. Having relatives or mekhutonim in the Neustadt was already enough of a blot….

This contributed to the fact that the Neustadt began to deliberate that it should have its own community life. It was not necessary to deliberate, since it arose on its own. That everything should be of its own – its own religious leaders, its own community leaders, its own Rabbi, a bath house and mikva of its own, even its own Hevra-Kadisha with its own treasury. Later on, additional independent social institutions were added.

There was something else characteristic: apart from the community and religious activity in Jewish life, which was strongly visible in all aspects – up to disputes and fights – the Christian population manifested an indifference to the local community life, they did not even go so far as to construct either a church or a temple in the Neustadt. The only ‘patriots’ from ‘Nowa Osada’ was to be found in the Jewish populace. Therefore, the Neustadt was a purely Jewish city, and contained within it, everything that a village required, including slaughterhouses, a council with a Rathaus (we called it the Koza).

The Christians would view their Jewish neighbors with envy, when they go to synagogue on the Sabbath at such a leisurely pace, not having to run two kilometers into the Altstadt, as they would have to do every Sunday to go to church – whether it was in the winter at the time of the bitterest cold, or summer, in the hottest of the heat. The only thing that provided them with any memory of a church, was the bell, which stood in one of the four principal marketplaces. However this bell did not serve the Christian faith, it rang only in the event of a fire in the Neustadt or in the nearby villages. In such an instance, four or six of the hoi polloi would grab hold of the chain of the bell and it would clang with a frightful ring, to the point where it would not be possible to sleep that night. The Christians, who lived in the Neustadt and the surrounding villages, indeed, from time-to-time would send delegations to the Burgomaster, or the City Elder, that some sort of a place should be built for them for their prayers, but nothing ever came of it. They didn't have a single initiative or any will. Up untill the Holocaust, the Neustadt did not have a Catholic Church or [Christian] Temple.

Together with the synagogue and the [principal] Bet HaMedrash, a variety of smaller Batei Medrashim were started to be built (in the Neustadt they were called ‘little schuls’), as for example, the Tailor's Synagogue, the Butcher's Little Synagogue. Apart from these, private prayer quorums also existed, where prayers were recited on the Sabbath and Festivals. Such were: Aharon-Leib's minyan; Yitzhak Stoller's minyan. Later on, the same Yitzhak Stoller organized the Yeshiva in his houses.

The Yeshiva was founded in the year 1915, during the time of the Austrian occupation. The leading citizens of the city did not have any other option, and they had to come to the Neustadt to visit the Yeshiva. It is necessary to add here that the high class city Jews really did help a great deal, seeing to it that the Yeshiva should have its first commencement. The Headmaster of the Yeshiva was indeed the Neustadt scion Hirscheleh Friedling, later the Rabbi of Biskupice, near Krasznik, and afterwards in a Warsaw suburb. The Chief-Rabbi was his brother Israel-Yekhiel Friedling, a truly sharp mind, filled, it would seem, only with Torah. The entire administration and finances was held in the hands of the city. The Yeshiva-Gabbai Itcheh-Meir Cohn (a gold merchant) needed to be in the Yeshiva on a daily basis to concern himself with all of the financial issues. To help him, there stood Mendele, the son-in-law from the Neustadt of Abraham Manzim. And also the son of A. Manzim – Yankeleh Manzim. In reality, this was the material bulwark of the Yeshiva.

[Page 357]

There were other Jews from Zamość who also helped in a variety of ways. I hope they will pardon me for not mentioning their names – I was altogether eleven years old at that time, and I simply no longer remember as well as I used to.

The Yeshiva quickly became popular, and in a matter of a few months, it grew to a large educational institution with six grades, where approximately two hundred children went to school. There was also a special class which was called ‘Yoreh Deyah.^[5]’ In this class, Blind Shmuel also learned, which was a real phenomenon. He did not know the shape of a single letter of the alphabet (he became blind at about a half year of age). They used to come to him with an open book and say: – Shmuel, I am holding the Tractate of Gittin, such-and-such a page – and Blind Shmuel would begin to recite from that place that the questioner had specified. (He later became renown as ‘The Blind Maggid’).

The Yeshiva did not last long. Quarreling began between the Altstadt and the Neustadt, and to the year, the Yeshiva was closed down. (It was also said that the reason was that Yitzhak Stoller had died, and there was no one else to admonish and give direction to the factions).

Apart from this, the Neustadt also had many Hasidic shtiblach, allied with a variety of Rabbinical courts. Because the Enlightened Altstadt did not permit a Hasidic Rabbi to enter there, the various Hasidim exerted themselves to have their shtibl in the Neustadt, where no one would disturb them. The policy of not permitting entry to a Hasidic Rabbi stood fast until 1929. At that time, a Rebbe took up permanent residence in Zamość, who was a grandson, or son, of the Cuzmirer Rebbe, but this individual also did not take up residence in the city proper, but had to live in Browar…

When Hasidic Rebbes would travel through Zamość, they lodged only in the Neustadt. At that time, the Neustadt took on a completely different look, almost not like a Thursday market fair day, to make a difference. Now, the Neustadt would become full of guests, whether they were Jews from the city, or people who had traveled in from the surrounding villages. The big shots from the city, pitifully, would have to slog through the muddy Neustadt streets on a Friday evening; coming in their Sabbath finery. Some came to sit at the Rebbe's Tisch^[6], while others came ‘to observe’ the Rebbe. For a part of them, this would be the only time, or a rare occasion, on which they were seen in the Neustadt, or ‘Neushtetl,’ as some of them would condescendingly refer to it.

This sort of way-of-life held on in the Neustadt until shortly before the ‘fifth’ year (the year 1905, the stormy year of the revolution in Czarist Russia). At that time, Zamość in general was shaken, and the Neustadt also began to undergo a little change in its passivity and indifference to the surrounding political and economic struggle, which was being carried out at that time.

The events of the ‘fifth’ brought to a head that a part of the youth of the city that took part in the revolutionary movement, had to flee out of the country and thanks to the movement, they began to wipe off the antagonism among the Enlightened youth, and from the Neustadt, young elements grew out, that began to assume prominent positions in the active community life of Zamość.

The importance of the Neustadt continues to grow in the view of the city fathers, and the level of interest grows in the Neustadt, and it was at that time that three of the principal plazas of the Neustadt are paved. A concrete bridge is built in place of the wooden one, at the place where the dirty runoff water flows from all sides of the city, and come together, now in a controlled stream into the Wilko. I am referring to the bridge near Aharon-Golda's business on one side, and Israel-Meir's saloon on the second side.

An autobus line begins to run from Bajan's metallurgical factory (indeed in the Neustadt). The Neustadt begins to regard itself as an important place.

[Page 358]

Community Activities

When the war breaks out in 1914, discussions begin quietly about certain young people, who ‘run’ every night into the city for meetings of a type that one doesn't even want to form on one's lips – especially the young people from the Hrubieszow Gasse.

Let us use this opportunity to note, that of the four principal streets that formed the center of the Neustadt, meaning the long Lemberg Gasse (that we used to divide up into the ‘Szczecin Way’ and ‘To the Post Office’) and the two cross streets, – the Bomba Gasse, and the Hrubieszow Gasse, it was from the Hrubieszow Gasse that we would always hear things. That was where the Rabbi Yankeleh Itkeh's lived, and as long as I remember, Rabbi Mordechai HaLevi Hurwitz, who was killed during the Nazi era by Polish hooligans.

Also, all of the leaders of the various societies, religious leaders, and ordinary ‘God's Cossacks’ (as we would call the fiercely observant pious Jews), lived on this Hrubieszow Gasse. On the other side of the street, lived the leaders of the underworld, and just plain strong-arm types, which not only once were utilized to shake things up (with their ‘strong-arm arguments’) at the time of the religious disputes. Such an instance took place at the time of the dispute between Bereleh Friedling and the Rabbi of the Neustadt, for which Shmuel-Yossel'eh Mussar^[7] was employed.

Moshe Abeles also lived on the Hrubieszow Gasse, who had an unusually great influence on the young people of the Neustadt. He himself was a great miser, but a very lusty person, replete with stories. He was the first drama director of the Neustadt youth, who put on ‘The Selling of Joseph.’ It was under his influence that young people began to borrow storybooks and a large number of those participating in the ‘The Selling of Joseph’ play, afterwards became community leaders and doers in a variety of parties. In his stories, which he told beautifully, he also wove in a variety of folk songs, which he would sing, and afterwards, they would become popular among the youth of the Neustadt.

Moshe'leh Strekher (Zilber) also lived on the Hrubieszow Gasse, the father of our landsman and friend in New York, Israel Zilber. He was called the Herschel Ostropolier^[8] of Zamość (the Neustadt residents would sat Esterpolier…). even though I did not know him personally, we young people, not once, would use his bon mots, and witticisms, and not only one time would we get a laugh from his antics that he would pull off.

It was not only one stingy man of means and hothead that would be softened up and cooled off with a joke or witticism from the Neustadt ‘Esterpolier’

On that same Hrubieszow Gasse, Shlomo Schwartzberg (Shlomo Hentieh) also lived, with his modern Heder, where instead of ‘Rebbe’ they used the title, ‘Teacher;’ where Hebrew was already being taught, and also a bit of literature; also various montages were put on, during Jewish national festivals.

Even Baruch Lehrer^[9], the one teacher that I remember from the Neustadt, also lived on Hrubieszow Gasse; also, the non-official teachers, such as Chaim Lehrer, Chaya Cooper, and the already last, young Faygeleh (Moshe Kopitsher's, because he used to make shoe tops), Arenbaum (today in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil) also lived on this very same street.

The first of the Maskilim and people of Enlightened thinking lived on this street – the Rabbi's son, Mendele Hurwitz-Sternfeld, Moshe Shapiro, Abraham-Yudel Kornmass (the father of the author of these lines), the already mentioned Shlomo Schwartzberg, and others. The first of the labor intelligentsia lived there as well, who later became the leaders of the Bund – these were among the very first that I remember personally: Israel Zilber, later Chaim-Leib Melitz,

[Page 359]

Itcheh-Leib Herring, Shia Bin, Moshe Freilich. The young Bundists (already those from our generation) Nekha Rak, Leibel Goddel, and others.

And later (between the two world wars), when the radical movement was created in the Neustadt, who today occupy leadership positions on Poland and other countries, almost all lived on the Hrubieszow Gasse. The first organizers of our circles – Simcha Abersfeld, Binyomi'tcheh Greenbaum; in the later years, Mekhl and Zisha Hackman, Mosheleh Zaltsman, Aharon Abersfeld, the writer of these lines, and others.

On this same well-connected street, from which community activists and fighters emerged for a whole array of generations; spiritual leaders and idealists, and by contrast, there was also a nest of the underworld. Initially, it was the thieves who took up the places, whose influence was felt in the entire area. The thieves of the Neustadt were something to talk about, they were mostly organized, and had their own ‘President’ of the Thieves. They would settle their thieving issues at the location of their leader, whose judgement had to be respected – whether good or bad. If Nahum Ganev said ‘so’ then it was necessary to obey. Nahum Ganev was a brother of Anshel Scher^[10] the recognized leader of the tailor workers union, and one of the active doers in the Bund. When Anshel Scher died (in the year 1915) a day of mourning was declared in Zamość, and the entire proletariat from all three parts of Zamość took part in escorting the funeral cortege. A second brother of Nahum's, Buzheh, was a member of the Bundist youth organization ‘Zukunft.’

It would often happen, that on the Hrubieszow Gasse, that a trial would be taking place in two places at the same time:

Two sides at odds with one another would be seated at the domicile of the Rabbi, partners or a pair of groups, with the people on their side and arbitrators. The arguments would be laid out in front of the Rabbi; shouts would be heard, as was the usual style – and up a way, on the same street, a ‘trial’ would be coming to a conclusion at the domicile of Nahum Ganev, also with defamatory remarks, and shouts. It was not rare for such ‘trials’ to be finished in the street with knives and staves. Khonyeh Walik even discovered a personal method by which to force compliance to the decision of the court of thieves. He would take a woman's stocking, he would put in about a half kilo weight, and held the other end in his hand, and gave a ‘lecture’ on how to ‘show respect’ for Nahum's decision. This always worked….

Even the ‘Orimer Lad’, which was created in 1916, where matzo was baked for the poor for free, and often with donated flour, was also located on the Hrubieszow Gasse. We will have a separate opportunity to tell about this. (‘Lad’ means a ‘place’ to us, where there used to be a matzo bakery, which in many places is called ‘podriad’).

This sort of way of life persisted in the Neustadt until the outbreak of the First World War. This war made Zamość an important military location; it was one of the strategic entrepôts for the military; in the surrounding thick forests, bloody battles play themselves out; our region passed from hand to hand; the regimes change, until it remains under the Austrian military occupation. (In the between time, the city went back over into Russian hands, who carried out a bloodbath, however, we will tell about this separately).

We, the Heder-age children, were entirely abandoned to our own devices, no one took us to Heder; our parents become ‘merchants,’ dealing with the military and the poverty of the Neustadt grows from day to day.

Under the Austrian occupation, a new chapter in the life of Jewish Zamość begins, which also had a special meaning for the Neustadt.

[Page 360]

Together with the Austrian military, which was billeted in Zamość, there were also a substantial number of Jewish conscripts, who began to come into the Jewish houses. This also happened in the Neustadt, who, at that time, had lost a great deal of its youth. A few of them were mobilized into the Russian Army; a part went away, with their parents, deep into the Russian heartland. However, older people remained behind, or the very young. The few young people who had any sort of appetite for community activity, resided in the Altstadt, where such activity was being conducted. So, indeed, most of the young people in the Neustadt would spend their time in private gatherings, where they would dance, and later ‘Play in The Fountain’ or ‘Flirt’ (a form of cards for amusement that we would send one another), or just plain and simple, play cards. But after everything, after all of these ‘entertainment programs,’ we would take to other things – we would get wrapped up in a discussion in which the Jewish conscripts would participate, and really stat a political discussion. Among other things, it was told that in the city, a ‘Tania Kuchina’ (a cheap kitchen) was established for the poor; that evening courses were being put together there, where writing is being taught at night, and about other issues, that were discussed quietly, so that no one might hear.

One such house, where such gatherings took place, was at our Shakhna, Sarah-Gittel, who had 4 young daughters and two sons. Her house served as [a place for] such discussions about the great poverty that reigned throughout the Neustadt. It was at that time, that the thought of creating a group to provide support was raised. Which was called ‘Tomkhei Aniyim,’ whose activity consisted of helping poor people by providing them with a bit of wood. A storage facility was rented, where the wood was brought to be hewn, and cut up, and whoever brought a ticket from the ‘Tomkhei Aniyim’ Committee, received a bit of wood.

The winter of 1917 was a hard winter for the populace of the Neustadt, and Passover was beginning to draw nigh, with the threat that the larger part of the Neustadt populace will remain without matzo. That same committee of the ‘Tomkhei Aniyim,’ which had become enlarged thanks to the help of the Neustadt Rabbi, Mordechai HaLevi Hurwitz, then decides to create the ‘Orimen Lad.’

Fate wanted that very ‘Lad’ (a Matzo Bakery) to be located directly opposite our house, and in the residence that belonged to Moshe Becker (Moshe Antracht). I was not quite eleven years old at that time, not old enough to be able to take part in this effort; however, because of this, I taught myself to do every possible job – from a flour duster to even a matzo baker (during the day, paid people worked, and they would turn over their place to have me replace them). I would also fill the role of handling all messages, such as going around to all the carpentry stores, to gather up pieces of sandpaper, and also pieces of glass for cleaning the rolling pins. Apart from this, I would go to distribute the invitations to the young people to come the following evening to help. And indeed, in the evenings the ‘Orimen Lad’ was full of young folk, and there we would sing through and recite all Yiddish songs that were popular – the Bundist ‘Oath,’ and ‘HaTikvah,’ – Reisen's well-known tunes, and the ones by Vinchevsky and Sh. Frugan. The work in the ‘Lad’ lasted until 12 o'clock and then the young girls were escorted to their homes. This singing, and ‘Escorting Home’ strongly didn't smell right to the observant Gott-Strapchehs^[11] (as we called the older strongly fanatic Jews), and they went to the Rabbi with a complaint: – What does it mean that he permits this? – they want to go and break up everything…it is, after all, a sacrilege… but the Neustadt Rabbi, a very wise and truly learned and tolerant man, restrained them. He would explain to them, that the young people are doing a great mitzvah – not only in that they are providing the poor with matzos, but it is very important that the young boys and girls are involving themselves with general community issues, that they take an interest in activity related to the general welfare. He, personally, would come in several times a day, and provide oversight, assuring that everything was done as was demanded by The Law, that it should be Kosher for Passover.

The ‘Lad’ was set up primarily to bake matzos for those without means, free of charge. Who would bring their [own] flour. It happened, however, that some would have to be given flour to be baked. The following took part in the ‘Orimen Lad,’ and distinguished themselves with their commitment: Shimshon and Yaakov Feigenbaum (today in Israel), Mottel'eh, Fisheleh Yossel's, Ovadiah Buchsenbaum, Lieber Morgenstern, Eli and Mendel Sarah-Gittel's (Eli and

[Page 361]

Mendel Crook). Let the others please not take me for being ungrateful if I have not mentioned their names, because, very simply, I do not remember.

The incident of the ‘Orimer Lad’ catalyzed the intelligentsia of the Altstadt to begin the work of the Enlightenment among the youth of the Neustadt. It was at that time that the various ideological groups began to construct themselves and the various institutions of partisan persuasion were founded. Illegal circles began being organized in the Neustadt. This lasted until the year 1918, when the refugees and expelled people sent into Russia begin to return. The entire community life in the Altstadt underwent an upheaval. Where a large part of the young people had shown themselves willing to obtain work, and began to conduct legal activity with the creation of legal political parties. The trade unions had their own separate branch already, and also a library named for I. L. Peretz (the name was obtained later) which obtained people and began a lively activity.

Once again, the Neustadt was emptied of every community activity, until Blind Shilem's^[12] son returned from Russia, Henoch Zitser (Henoch Leidikgeier) who later, after the Czarist archives of the Okhrana^[13] were opened, was unmasked as an agent of the Czarist Okhrana. He was afraid to show himself in the Altstadt. He therefore remained living permanently in the Neustadt. It was this very Henoch who began to assemble about him the ‘patriots’ in the Neustadt, and began the initiative to create a library in the Neustadt. Since, in fact, he was a good organizer, in a short amount of time, he demonstrated a capacity to interest a number of the Neustadt people [in this project], and a residence was rented and a rather fine library was created.

After a great deal of very burdensome discussions, Henoch Zitser was later pushed aside from his active work on behalf of the library at the demand of the local committee of the Bund.

A group of the first organizers of the Neustadt Labor Youth From right to left: Nehemiah Eltzter, Beyrekh Freilich (Argentina), Zisha Hackman (Died in the Soviet Union), Moshe'leh Zaltsman (Died in the Soviet Union)

A group of young people, mostly from the Neustadt, which was active in community and professional activities From right to left, bottom row: Chaim Ber, Ber'cheh Kornmass, Aharon Arbesfeld, Mendel Greenbaum (‘Freethinker’), Mottel Gerzon (‘Tafchan’). Second row: Yaakov Koyl, Leah Keitel, Chana Bronfenbrenner, Moshe Arbukh, Dvorah Koenig Bottom row: Yossel Greenbaum (‘Brumishch’), Averemeleh Eisman, Mendel Finkman, Jekuthiel Schpendel, Yossel'eh Brand

A group of Neustadt youth, drawn into the movement In the middle row, third from the right to the left, is Moshe'leh Rapaport who later, during the time of Nazi rule, became the last Jew from the Zamość Ghetto. His tragic end is accurately portrayed by Mordechai Shtrigler [see page 989 in the original, and page 593 in this volume].

[Page 362]

sponsors of young people, already had two and three such young folk, therefore, indeed, a large number of the Neustadt youth remained without access to the library.

This situation persisted to about the year 1920 – or the beginning of 1921, when, under and agreement reached as part of the Soviet Polish Peace Treaty, all Russians living in Poland were to return to Russia, and all Poles in Russia were to return [to Poland]. Among the latter, the daughter of the Neustadt Rabbi, with her two young children Sender and Shia, were to be found (the first, Sender Rothstein is today found in Chicago, and is a member of this Pinkas Committee and had engaged in this Pinkas with his personal effort). They tell the sad news of the frightful hunger that reigned throughout Russia. Afterwards, the anxious calls for help started. It was then that the youth of the Neustadt mobilized itself, having developed the feel for how to render assistance from prior experience.

I remember one Sabbath when the Rabbi gave a sermon, during which he depicted the need of our brethren suffering from hunger; he appealed that something be set aside, even from the neediest, in order to help alleviate the need of the stricken young children. This made a strong impression on us young people as well, and, indeed, on that very same Sabbath, after meal time, we gathered as a group of 18 energetic young people, who decided to create a youth committee for those suffering hunger in Russia. But what does one do, that we will enable us to earn trust? What we decided was to send a delegation to the Rabbi of the Neustadt. Immediately, a delegation consisting of Mekhl Hackman, Mendel Barik, Wolf Kornmass and Leibl Griener (through me) were immediately elected. We presented our plan to the Rabbi. The Rabbi knew our parents, and apart from that, he was greatly moved emotionally by our concept to create a committee and he immediately wrote out an endorsement to all Jewish mothers, indicating that they should see to it that their children should not fail to participate in this great mitzvah, and should become a member along with us. This, indeed, had the desired effect – in a very few days, we had close to 200 members.

This, however, immediately drew the attention of the already existing political parties in Jewish Zamość. Every party wanted to associate themselves with us, trying to co-opt a popular youth movement as its own. The first to establish a relationship with us was the Zionist party. We began calling meetings for every Saturday, where speakers would come to talk about various aspects of our movement. Even my former Yeshiva Headmaster, Hirscheleh Friedling came to me on behalf of the ‘Agudah,’ proposing that we join their movement. But the first one who had us influenced, was the Neustadt Zionist Gershon Zucker, a very intelligent and substantive individual.

At that time, the Bund was one of the strongest organizations in Zamość – both politically and organizationally. No other party could measure up to the Bund, whether in the number of members, or the scope of its activities on all fronts of community life – especially in the area of professional (union) life. There was no single party in Zamość that had as many workers in its ranks as the Bund.

The activity of the Bund had a great impact on the poor populace of the Neustadt, and especially among the working masses. This influence was especially strong especially because the leadership of the Bund contained many residents of the Neustadt, such as Chaim-Leib Melitz, Shia Bin, Itcheh-Leib Herring, Moshe Freilich, Moshe Mittelpunkt, Mikhl Cooperman, Itcheh Marer and others.

Therefore, the Bund also began to send its representatives to this group of Neustadt youth.

This period, however, was the most difficult period for the Bund in Poland in general – sharp debates began in the ranks of the Bund about the appropriateness of The Third International; the disputes let to a schism in the Bund across the entire country, which also did not skip over Zamość ; the ‘Combund’ arises.

But this schism did not cause the Bund party any great losses, only a part of the older comrades left to join the ‘Combund,’ which threw in with the Polish Communist Party. It was the Bundist youth organization, ‘Zukunft’ that was seriously damaged. It became a [substantially] reduced organization in the city; most of its members joined up with the ‘Comzukunft’ – which created the situation that made it impossible for the Bund to engage with the Neustadt-created youth committee.

[Page 363]

By contrast, the ‘Combund’ significantly committed itself to our youth, and maintained a permanent contact with us. Originally, Israel Wapniarsky was sent to us, and later Binyomi'cheh Greenbaum, and even later still, Simcha Arbesfeld, who then already remained with us until he departed for Russia in the year 1922.

At the meetings of the Neustadt youth, very sharp discussions were initiated, authentic political battles. The principal battle was carried out by the ‘Combund,’ and the Zionists. The last battle played itself out on a Saturday afternoon at the home of Hirsch Kornmass (the writer's grandfather). Because of the Heder that my grandfather ran, he had a large house. This house was filled to overflowing, and they were even standing in the street. For the Neustadt, this was quite an event, which was greeted with wonder, because Heder and student children on a Saturday afternoon, were supposed to play at holding a Bet-Din or a Mitiyeh Bakup (a sort of game with a ball), and here, rather than do so, they were gathered at Hirsch Votchak (grandfather's nickname)^[14] in the Heder house. And the audience could hear talking, and didn't understand what it was that was causing so much heat – Yiddish was being spoken, and yet not a word was understood.

The principal battle was being carried out by the comrades Gershon Zucker and Israel Wapniarsky. The Zionist side, seeing that they are losing their influence, made a call to the young people, that they should abandon us, and not work at all with our Neustadt youth committee. However, since the youth at that time was not ripe for this sort of debate, and in addition, that we had fallen out of the influence of the Rabbi, the meeting ended with the result that most of the young people left. We were left with about 60 young people. Later on, another re-grouping took place, and we were left with 40, more ripe, and we elected a new leadership. It consisted of the young people: Mekhl Hackman, Leibl Gewirtz, Moshe Zaltsman, Nehemiah Eltzter, Wolf Kornmass, Baruch Freilich, and Aharon Arbesfeld (I beg the pardon of those whom I may have forgotten to mention).

We began to hold a series of lectures with representatives of the ‘Combund.’ We went through a bit about political economics; Moshe Terman's ‘Culture and the Working Class,’ Marx's ‘The Communist Manifesto,’ and others. We also read through collectively, an array of popular knowledge works about literature, such as Y. Dobrishin's ‘Gedankengang.’

Because not all members were on the same cultural plane or level of development, not everyone was capable of absorbing these themes, and also, in Poland, since the ‘Combund’ had been started to be followed, we decided to break up the organization into several cells. Initially at the level of 20, and later 15, and at down to 7 at the very end.

In order to be better able to organize the Neustadt youth, who wanted to join us, we created a debating circle, where we prepared debates, which could be sent to other cells, which we had in greater numbers.

By involving ourselves with these groups, we learned that a large portion of the young people could barely read print, and could not write. So we began to organize evening classes. The first of the difficulties consisted of finding an appropriate location. Our financial circumstances were more than strained. In reality, we were hungry, and we used to divide up a cigarette. So, for the time being, we decided to start in my ‘little room’ (this was the designation for my residence, which I had set up for myself out of a room which for many years had served as a storage location for a variety of merchandise). If you would say to someone from the Neustadt, ‘Go to Joel in the Little Room,’ he knew already that he needed to go to Wolf Kornmass, (‘Joel’ was my pseudonym).

The entire ‘salon’ consisted of a small room, barely four meters in length, and three meters wide. We had decided, that for the money we would have paid for rent, we would buy notebooks and pencils. We did not have the money to buy a bigger lamp, so we found an old electric lamp in the attic of our comrade Mekhl Hackman. We had it repaired, and

[Page 364]

this was the first sign that the ‘Little Room’ as no ordinary residence, but rather it gives the impression already of something special, but what that was, we ourselves did not know.

In a very few days, we already had so many students, that we could not accommodate them all at once in the ‘Little Room,’ and we were forced to make first two, and then three sessions. In order to utilize the location of the ‘Little Room,’ we made the table (out of two boards), the entire length of the room, and the bed served as a bench on one side, and on the second side we made tabourettes. The students that had to sit on the bed, had to get there by crawling under the table.

It was in this fashion that our first ‘Yiddish School’ began in the Neustadt. Each of us had to donate something to the ‘school.’ A pencil, a book, a little kerosene for the lamp was also a donation. Do understand, that these same friends were also the teachers. In a matter of a few months, we had taught several tens of children to write and read through a Yiddish letter. It is worth recollecting that out of these students, later came leaders of the Neustadt youth, such as Leibel Wolya (Kalmeleh Schuster's), Zelig-Hirsch, the shoemaker's son, Yudeleh, the blond baker's, Velveleh, Chaya-Baylah's, and others, who until our ‘school’ couldn't tell a squiggle from a letter.

The popularity of our school grew so quickly, that in a matter of months we had a problem, as to where we could secure an appropriate location for our school. The first thing we decided was to begin an open meeting of our ‘school.’ A group of the youth went out into the Neustadt, and approached all strata in the populace. We did not receive any large sums, but everyone gave something. Some gave a book, others a couple of notebooks, small financial donations. However, from all of this, there still was not enough for a location. We were compelled to remain in ‘The Little Room.’

Since there were among the donated books, some which were not suitable, and seeing that the young people of the Neustadt could not become members of the Neustadt library (about which we have previously written), we decided that we would create a library to serve the larger number of young people who cannot belong to the [main] library.

In the end, we had to remove the library. It is transferred to the residence of our comrade, Aharon Arbesfeld. There, the books are also exchanged in turns.

In its new location, the library is enlarged. New young people join, who want to learn and read. We look about and see that we have an inadequate inventory of books. It is necessary to get new books. This compelled us to step out in a new way – to begin an open undertaking, that should enable us to get out of ‘The Little Room.’

We organize a dance evening, indeed, in the Neustadt. We rent the home of Chana Kalman's and we send out invitations. This time, to our comrades in the Altstadt as well. And here, the Saturday arrived, that would either propel us out of our fantasies with our position, or truly give us the energy and strength – a material and moral success.

We prepared everything several nights in advance, even the musicians – Yankel Kalmeleh's (a brother of the balabusta of the ‘dance hall’) we had paid in advance (true, with borrowed money). As we took our seats at the door of the ‘dance hall’ on Saturday night, with the previously prepared tickets and started to wait for guests, we thought to ourselves that we had failed. We do not even see the two girls who had been designated as ticket sellers (taking turns)at the ‘buffet,’ and by the drinks. We thought that nobody from the city would come; and if somebody does come, how will he know how to negotiate across the marketplace and find Leib Malier (Mangel) or to Chana Kalmeleh's (which was more popular). We decide that we have to station young people along the way that leads from the Altstadt – near the pharmacy, and near the municipal building, to be able to indicate to the eventual guests the right way to proceed.

It was winter. Our young people were poorly clothed. It was necessary to wait for hours. But when the first couples were brought, it just so happens, ‘our own,’ it was remarked that without the ‘convoys,’ they would not have found the place, and our young people took the initiative to escort the guests. As soon as a person brought someone in, he used the opportunity to warm himself up a bit, and went out again into the ‘wild’ – asking someone bent over if he is going to the ‘entertainment.’

[Page 365]

It became apparent, that we didn't know how popular we were, even in the Altstadt. There were many patrons who came to this type of a literary dance evening. The success was unanticipated, truly overwhelming. We had to ask the owners of the ‘dance hall’ to allow us to use a second room, which was not foreseen in our arrangement.

Page 698:

The well-known dress designer business of Paya Bott in Zamość. The owner with her workers. From right to left, first row: Pessel, Esther, Gittl Koeniger, Rocheleh Gerzon. Second Row, Seated: Pesheh-Raizl Kleiner, Paya Bott, Tchipeh Freilich.

Part of our comrades made their artistic debut at the time of our first literary dance. In the very middle of the dancing couples, our comrade, Mekhl Hackman (today Polkovnik in Poland), stopped the music, and stepped himself on the stage (a bench!) And the writer of these lines, with a pair of mud-covered boots (from escorting ‘guests’ from the main Lemberg road to the ‘dance hall’) made a debut with a speech of Morris Rosenfeld's, ‘With My Young Boy in the Street.’ The enthusiastic reception this received was unexpected. This provided encouragement to the other artists, and readings came immediately from Aharon Arbesfeld, Leibel Gewirtz, Moshe Zaltsman, and even our leader, Mekhl Hackman did not hold back, and also went up on the ‘stage’ and gave a declamation of W. Weviakor's ‘Dos Maedel.’

From that point on, we would step forward with declamations, or with something to read at all our undertakings.

After the literary dance evening, which had provided us with a significant sum of revenue, we decided that we have to independently create larger quarters for our school and library. So we rented the house from Molly Ezerles (her husband, Shmuel Ezerles is not present in this matter at all, because he had no idea what was happening) and there, the school was put in order as well as the library. The ‘Little Room’ is used only for meetings.

With the changing of the address of the ‘school,’ the number of students increased in a meaningful manner, and added to this was the problem of teachers, because we were able to fill the role of teachers for the first couple of months….

But for such a stormy youth there were no difficulties in those years. We approached the teacher Chaya Cooper, Naphtali Yayechnik's (the egg merchant) daughter (her brother, Lipa Cooper is today in Israel), and to the young teacher Faiga Orenbaum (Faiga Moshe Kopitshazh, today in Rio de Janeiro, Faiga Shklau, belongs to the sub-committee of our Pinkas) and both promised to give one hour a day entirely for free, but with the condition that we should provide appropriate tables and benches. We agreed to this. Here, in the new premises, a Saturday would not go by, or a Friday evening, that we wouldn't hold a sit down session, a speech, or a discussion with the young students, who were already readers at the library.

Our new situation did not last long. The matter of the bombing of the Warsaw Citadel was undertaken, when a wave of terror and arrests cascaded over all of Poland. The son of the owner of our ‘school,’ Moshe Ezerles (Moshe Langbaum), an ‘Enlightened’ person, himself a teacher, and a writer of petitions, explained to his mother that she will be sentenced to prison for renting us her house. Added to this were the complaints of the neighbors, that she will roast in Hell for a hundred years for harboring the kind of people that don't believe in God, and who smoke on the Sabbath…we received an eviction, and we had to store the library for a while in our attic. We were unable to get any other premises.

At that time, two very important incidents took place in our organization. One was, that in the course of conducting our work, there began to appear young people from the Altstadt in an organization that was primarily of the Neustadt. The antagonism that existed between the Neustadt and the city begins to be wiped away. Among the first people from the city who began to work togther with us, were: Zelig Karp, Mendel Finkman, and Pessia Tzeler (all three today are found in Argentina), Avrem'echeh Pflug (Avremecheh Kapusz), Chana Bronfenbrenner.

We then got the female element into our organization. Up to that point in time, there were only young men.

[Page 366]

The first of the young women who were active with us were: Gittl Koeniger (today in France), Tchipa Freilich, Tchipa Kerbuss.

Another fact tore us away from our prior activity among the youth of the Neustadt. We were drawn into the illegal activities of the left-wing trade unions. They needed us for an array of technical tasks, such as putting up placards and hanging out banners on the trade union holidays, as well as during the large political demonstrations, which after the destruction of the Citadel, occurred with considerable frequency. We were also delegated the task of organizing the young people in the surrounding towns, such as Komarow, Hrubieszow, Bilgoraj, Grabowiec, Izbica, Krasnobrod, and others.

I was allocated the eastern section of Zamość. I made my first trip as an ‘organizer’ to Tyszowce, because Mekhl Hackman had relatives there – his maternal grandfather, and having been a guest in his grandfather's home during the past Yom Tov, he had already prepared several young people and I had to complete and set up a cell, which should organize the core of the young people.

The first address where I was supposed to go to, was the house of Leib Zwillich (died in Argentina), a man of considerable heart. After accepting my ‘parole,’ (this was a secret sign, that it was permissible to discuss organizational matters), he led me to his house, where I was received very warmly by the remainder of the family members.

As I later considered to myself, the house of Simcha Zwillich was always friendly to guests. Because of the three young daughters, their house was constantly filled with young people, which in those years, in a small town meant that it was a community home. This resonated strongly with the then young Leib, with the strong stamp of goodness and friendliness to guests and simplicity, which was with him until his untimely death.

After resting from a half a day of trekking about on foot more than riding on a wagon, because the way there was sandy, Leib Zwillich had meanwhile already called together the remaining young people, about twelve or fifteen young people. We talked together until quite late at night (somewhere in an attic room with heavily curtained windows). We spoke of the means by which the youth could be organized, and also the way whereby the trade union in Tyszowce could be reorganized. A leadership is elected from the group, with a chairman, who will maintain the contact with Zamość. The same group of young people later on, become the leaders of the trade union, and also of the library in Tyszowce.

The composition of the first leadership of Tyszowce consisted of: Leib Eitel, Gedaliah Bashister, Ephraim Rosenbaum (in Argentina), Leib Zwillich, Hinde Kleiner (the last two died in Buenos Aires), Moshe Schweitzer (died in Montevideo), Joseph Stengel, Feivusz, Moshe Ophir, Faiga Ophir, Mekhleh Scherer, Shayndl Schweitzer, who were killed by the Nazis, may their name be erased.

And it was in this way, that I periodically would visit Tyszowce, and already had my steady address at the Zwillichs, who could not forgive me for not having taken my leave of them on that first night. What this meant to the Tyszowce populace, was that I was a cousin of Leib's and in because of the relationship of his entire family to me, this was deemed certain, and understandable. With a number of them, I have remained personal friends to this day. When already in Argentina with Leib Zwillich from 1929 to 1932, we lived like two brothers. The same holds for Ephraim Rosenbaum (Yitzhak Shokhet's), whom my children call, ‘uncle.’

Also, the ordinary residents of Tyszowce, who did not belong to any group, when they came to Argentina, speak with great yearning and respect about those members of the first group, who led their town in labor and Yiddish cultural activities. It is worth mentioning that out of that group, a part of their number became members of the ‘Botwin’ Company^[15], who were famous during the time of the Spanish Civil War. Many of them are still found in Poland. There,

[Page 367]

Moshe'leh Krempel and Abraham Eisen who were active there in the community (see Sholom Stern's writeup about his trip through Poland in our Pinkas).

Apart from Tyszowce, Komarow was in my area of responsibility. Even though Komarow was half way to Zamość, like Tyszowce, relations with it were a bit more difficult – there, we had not a single address to which we could travel. Such an opportunity arose from within the residents of Komarow themselves, they were the ones who provided the initiative. It happened on one Passover (or some other holiday), when one member of our group, Chaim Koeniger (killed while fighting as a partisan), was approached by a nephew, Moshe Tzigel, who also made my acquaintance. He put me on the spot as to why we were showing an interest in Tyszowce, and not with Komarow.

After this incident of getting acquainted, we discussed and agreed that immediately after the second Saturday hence, I will travel to Komarow, and they will await me, starting quite early on the outskirts of the town, because I would not travel into the town on the Sabbath on a rover (it was called a red-wagon by us).

From Friday to Saturday, a goodly bit before dawn, I rode out at around 5 before dawn, and, indeed, I was awaited by a group of fellows and girls with flowers (it was said that they had gone out for a May stroll) and my little bicycle immediately disappeared into the attic of a Christian, who lived by the gentile cemetery.

Moshe Tzigel immediately presented me at the auditorium. Among the group, my eye caught an individual who had a crippled foot, who had black hair, and fiery eyes. Despite the fact that he leaned on a crutch, he was a substantive and influential individual – this was the tailor, Abish Schwartz.

Even though there were about twenty young men and women, it was immediately established that I was the cousin of Abish Schwartz, and for this reason, I remained in Abish's home (despite the fact that it was very poor, but also very clean), until I left. Every other time that it worked out for me to have to stay in Komarow, I was already put up by my ‘cousin’ Abish Schwatrz.

A leadership was divided up out of the group, that was to set itself at the point of the union movement and should organize the youth in Komarow.

From that onetime group, apart from my ‘cousin,’ Nahum Shpritz (today in Israel) remains in my memory. Up until the Holocaust, he remained as the leader of the left-wing labor movement, first, indeed, in Komarow, and later in Lemberg. He was also the representative to the Zamość committee. The others that I remember [are]: Moshe Tzigel, later a union activist (today in Argentina), Tentzeh Fitter (today in Canada), Abish Schwartz and Melekh Schwartz (both in Israel), and the remaining, who met their end at the hands of the Nazi beasts: Chaya Fuchs, Mottel Ehrlich, Leah Kreiden, Foyreh Gutman, and Yaakov-Leib Trost.

These same people also instituted a community life, which attracted a great deal of attention both among the working-class youth and the ordinary townsfolk in general, even in Zionist circles. It would often happen, that on a Sabbath, there would be several discussion evenings that took place at the same time.

It was hardest for me to organize a cell in Tomaszow-Lubelski. Here, it was not necessary for me to have to borrow a ‘cousin.’ My younger brother Zalman lived there, with my maternal grandparents. In Tomaszow, I had real uncles and aunts, and despite this, I was unable to carry out my mission. It got to the point where the question was tabled as to whether this point should be given up.

[Page 368]

The reason for this was, that by contrast to the other previously mentioned towns, Tomaszow had an organized proletarian movement, led by the Bund. In that location, there was not the need to create a trade union, because one existed there already. The Bund led practically all of the progressive institutions there, and was therefore well-loved by the needy segments of the populace. All of our efforts to create a red faction was for naught.

It was first in the year 1927 (if my memory is not playing tricks on me) that the leader of the Bund, Benusz Mikhalevich was in Zamość, and at that time, young people from all of the surrounding towns came, along with a large number of older people. Most of them came on foot, because the wagons that circulated from the towns to Zamość were almost entirely filled. There was no other form of communication, and there was no rail line at that time in part of the towns (Tyszowce, Komarow, Tomaszow, Grabowiec). At that time, a large group came from Tomaszow. Among them was my brother Zalman, and Blind Yudeleh (Yudeleh Elbaum). The young arrivals spent the night with relatives, or acquaintances, where possible. Part of the group found lodging with me in ‘The Little Room,’ and were ‘hurt’ there. By the second Sabbath, I was in Tomaszow, and I had the opportunity to organize a red section of about 12 people of both sexes.

And so it is in this fashion, that Zamość becomes a center for the surrounding towns, that serves the left-wing movements both with literature and with debates. The writer of these lines was fated to drag himself around for nights on end, on freight wagons (because one feared a hostile eye during the daytime), to the further towns (apart from the ones already mentioned): Bilgoraj, Izbica, Hrubieszow, Ostilug, Krasnystaw, Grabowiec, Krasnobrod.

A group of so-called ‘travelers’ took form. Illegal (and semi-legal) materials and announcements would be taken along on each trip. At the outset, the group consisted of: Mekhl Hackman, Yossel Greenbaum, Nehemiah Eltzter, Moshe'leh Zaltsman.

The Neustadt was characteristic in its specific occupations, which virtually did not exist in the Altstadt.

In first place come the wagon drivers (balegolahs^[17]). With us, in Zamość, this occupation was divided into three categories, one of which, the very oldest, which at one time occupied a very prominent place in the Neustadt, with the passage of time entirely lost its luster, and in general was at the point of vanishing.

These groups were: the first and the very oldest were the balegolahs, who transported passengers and merchandise from one city to the next; the second were the ‘vozhe-vodehs^[18],’ and the third group were the drozhkazhes.^[19]

The first – the balegolahs, the owners of large wagons with holds, (or what we in Zamość used to call ‘brikehs,’), which were spanned by three or four horses across its width, occupied a very significant place in the Neustadt from the earliest times. There were entire dynasties that encompassed tens of families, where this occupation was handed down from generation to generation. I will attempt to try and write down part of these – the ones who appeared later on. From the first dynasty, I have heard stories, but I did not know them personally.

Even before my time, the following existed in full force, Moshe Fudim (Moshe Freilich's grandfather), Abish Balegolah^[20], Elia Kleid (Meylakh Stollar's father – Schwartzberg), Moshe Dreshler, Azriel Mutz (Gershtengroypen), Abraham Draykopf.^[21]

[Page 369]

It was told about a few of them, that they would sit in their little synagogue and study, while the work of loading and unloading was being done by their people (or as they were called by us, the ‘schmeissers^[22]’). They would only undertake the position of exchanging horses (meaning the sale of old ones and acquiring new ones). In general, they were quite a prominent part of the Neustadt community life.

During my time, tens of families were still engaged in this way of making a living. Who in the Neustadt did not know the ‘Tchelovekehs^[23],’ but who knew that the family's real last name was Pearl? There were perhaps ten brothers, and all of them were involved with horses, and wagon transportation. Moshe'leh ‘Techelovek,’ – his brothers, Reuven, Israel, Raphael, Chaim, Elia-Hirsch; and then there was the dynasty of the ‘Noah's:’ Yekeleh Noah's, Shmuel-Yaakov Noah's, Averemeleh Yaakov Noah's. And who in the Neustadt did not know (I would have said ‘was not afraid of’) Abraham-Yitzhak and his four sons: Mekhel, Motya, Shmeryl and Elia? The father, Abraham-Yitzhak, as I knew him (he was a neighbor of ours), was a Jew already well into his seventies, would still hold a horse by himself in his huge broad hands, while it was being shod for the first time. It was told of him, that he brought the huge dispute in the Neustadt between the Rabbi and Rabbi Bereleh Friedling to an end (see descriptions of this in other works in this Pinkas). He happened to go out into the street on a Friday towards nightfall, aroused by his mother (Henneh Flack), precisely at the point when Shmuel-Yossel'eh decided to make a stand and enforce a ‘Black Sabbath’ on the Rabbi (meaning, he would not permit him to go and pray in the synagogue, as he had already done a couple of times). Well, Abraham-Yitzhak happened upon the scene, and picked him up in his hands and said: “Hey ‘puppy,’ (this was Abraham-Yitzhak's favorite sobriquet), I've got you now”….Shmuel-Yossel'eh saw fit to beat a hasty retreat from this sort of ‘embrace’ in Abraham-Yitzhak's hands, and he was ashamed to show himself in the street, and the dispute simply stopped.

It was first years later, when the cemetery was renovated (which we called the ‘Holy Place’), Shmuel-Yossel'eh publicly begged for the forgiveness of the Neustadt Rabbi. The Rabbi was silent. It was first only after the second time that he begged for forgiveness that, it is told, the Rabbi said: I forgive you, and may God also forgive you.

In my time yet, this same Abraham-Yitzhak continued to conduct his business on a high level. He and his sons owned several wagons outfitted with storage holds, and [employed] several schmeissers (specifically from the surrounding villages). While his wagons were still en route, other huge wagons were already being loaded in Abraham-Yitzhak's yard, full of a variety of boxes. It was not only once that arguments would break out with passengers, who would ride along, saying that they would not ride in a wagon so full of boxes, that they will arrive ‘without sides,’ but having no alternative, they would carefully crawl onto the wagon, and vanish under the hold, and become sunken between the various packages.

Only now, when all of the personnel were already aboard, you would begin to hear contention:

– Uncle, can you move over a bit; you have sat down on my foot – and other like complaints.

When everything was ready, Abraham-Yitzhak gave the final order to the schmeisser: – ‘Puppy, move it already!’

The same thing took place with our second neighbor, admittedly on a smaller scale, at Ruveleh ‘Tchelovek.’

This went on all week. On the Sabbath, everything went still. At that time they would all come out – fathers and sons – by dynastic order, together with the schmeissers, boots all shined, and they would go to their little synagogue, which was called Hevra Tehilim. This little synagogue stood half-empty for the entire week. However, on the Sabbath, it was packed, and it was necessary to stand in the foyer of the Great Synagogue, where this ‘Hevra Tehilim’ was to be found.

All of these ‘dynasties,’ were mostly to be found on the Hrubieszow Gasse (what we called ‘Rabishever’). It was indeed built differently from the remaining streets of the Neustadt. The difference consisted of the larger majority of the houses

[Page 370]

being constructed with enclosed, gated four-sided places (called ‘podvoden^[24]’ by us). They were constructed with huge stalls or stables. Even those homeowners, who did not engage in this line of work, built their houses to this same specification, so that they would be able to rent the premises to balegolahs.

My grandfather, who was a teacher for his entire life, also built such a stall, which for all his years he rented out – earlier to Yitzhak Shedletzer, and later to our neighbor Ruveleh ‘Tchelovek.’

With the arrival of the railroad line (the nodvishlanska) which, according to the Czarist plan, was supposed to go through and pass by Zamość, the occupation of wagon driver was transformed. The contractors then demanded bribes, to permit the line to pass by the city (thereby supporting the ability to make a living), but the bribes were not paid (it is said that a part of the balebatim indeed wish to pay the bribe, but they were not allowed to), so the train went only as far as Rajowiec (about fifty kilometers from Zamość), and the city was bypassed.

The following story occurred later, with regard to this matter concerning the railroad line, in the year 1914. When the Germans, in that year, occupied Zamość, they demanded to be taken to the Zamość railroad station. When it was explained to them, that there was none, they took out their military land maps, which had been drawn in accordance with older building plans, and indicated that there is a station, and they are being fooled with; and that they will shoot every person who will not show them the way to the railroad station. When they began to explain to them the story about the bribes, they didn't want to believe it, and they took my maternal grandfather (he himself was Austrian, who happened to find himself with us as a guest), as a hostage. If it will be shown that there really is a railroad station in Zamość, he will be shot. In the end, the Germans were convinced, that there was no railroad station in the vicinity, and they sent my grandfather back with a letter of recommendation from the red circle. The railroad station was first built in 1916, under the Austrian occupation.

By the time of the first building project of the railroad, the status of the ‘brikehs’-balegolahs fell. The ones that would make trips over long distances became redundant. And when the railroad was constructed in 1916, the type of ‘brikehs,’ or hold-wagons was reduced to a minimum. The stalls were emptied out, and the horses sold. There was pitifully little food for one's self, much less the horses, who had nothing to do.

Many of the stalls were being renovated as dwellings. At that time, there was generally a shortage of housing. I think that the first was Yankel Koch, who made residences out of his large stalls, and Herschel Milchiger moved into one of these residences, the father of the writer, Mordechai (Mottel'eh, as he was called at home) Shtrigler.

After the year 1918, when a train line already existed in Zamość, the type of balegolah with the brikeh and hold-wagons practically disappears, and the second category of ‘Vozheh-Vodeh’ increases. This was a lighter type of cargo wagon drawn by one horse. Why this type of wagon was called ‘Vozhe-Vodeh’ we cannot figure out [see my earlier footnote – JSB]. The ‘Vozheh-Vodehs’ would transport cargo from one end of Zamość to the other, and from time to time would make trips to the village (especially in harvest time, when the peasants would come to the city less frequently).

There were a couple of tens of ‘Vozheh-Vodehs’ in the Neustadt. Their number would rise and fall. If one of them would have a horse that ‘fell,’ that would be enough of a reason to engage in another line of work – there simply were no means with which to buy another horse. I remember one of them, when after his horse ‘fell,’ he began to pull a small cargo wagon himself, and he was called Avigdor Millon.

The third category of this line of work was the world of the drozhkazhes. At one time, they occupied an important place in Zamość. This group, within itself was also divided into three sections. Earlier, when the fortress was still in Zamość, there was also a line of work of contractors, jobbers, factors, ‘First Guild’ merchants, who had business and dealings with the senior military staff or with the Zamoyskis. These people would ride in a special ‘classy’ carriage – and enclosed and black-lacquered cart with four horses at the fore. The drozhkazh had to be dressed ‘stylishly’ – and the horses had to be adorned in a representable manner….

[Page 371]

The second kind were the ‘britchkehs’ – a smaller, open wagon, for two people only. It was used for fast rides. It was especially utilized when it was necessary to ride to the nearby homes of the nobility.

The third type, which existed until the end of our community, was the simply droshky which served as transport from the Neustadt to the Altstadt or the ‘Browar,’ and back. Especially to the train station, when the trains would arrive and depart. A droshky of this type would make the trip back and forth several times a day.

A large proportion of the drozhkazhes were former schmeissers, who had worked for the big balegolahs of the ‘brikehs.’ Let us here enumerate part of them: Abraham Bajczman, Abraham Kefeh, Joel Drozhkazh (Yekeleh Noah's son), Matus Bajczman, who was also the veterinarian, the Ackermans (Sholom, Anshel, Moshe), the Kreidels (Moshe and Meir), the dynasty of the Stoffers, Isaac (Fefkeh), Zaydel, and others. I remember there being at least thirty people, or so.

I do not know if any of the first category, the big-time balegolahs of the large cargo wagons, whether apart from the ones from the Neustadt, any lived in the Altstadt, from the last two groups, the ‘Vozheh-Vodehs,’ and the drozhkazhehs, all lived in the Neustadt. Except for one, Shmuel Hambal, who lived in ‘Browar.’ Incidentally, he was the only one who had a droshky with two horses. Towards the end, he indeed lived in ‘Browar.’ However, he was one of us, and came from the Neustadt.

In general, the Altstadt wanted nothing to do with these modes of livelihood, which can besmirch the pedigree and disrupt the polishing of one's balebatish appearance. Therefore, thee was an array of industries in the Neustadt, which were not in the city. There, one could find the tannery of Yitzhak Zucker (previously belonged to Avigdor Irlander's brother-in-law, Pinia Cooper), the large barn of Hona Eidelsberg, where leather was processed; the large soap factory of Abraham Manzim, the oil factory of Sholom Tischberg, and Shmuel Schmorak and a whole array of smaller factories of candle-makers and soap-makers. Here in the Neustadt was the first steam-driven mill (it was called the ‘pareveh mill^[25]’ by us), which belonged to Leibusz Cohn. After the First World War, a candy and marmalade factory was built there. Let us also recall the ceramic factory (tile manufacture) of Mendel Eisenstahl. At one time, there was a match factory there, which belonged to Yekhiel Reinerman, where local girls from the Neustadt area worked for three kopecks a day.

The Neustadt was also deeply involved in the garment trades. The trade of confections (second-rate merchandise) had a larger array of tailoring establishments, such as Motya Getz, Hirsch Feier, Avigdor Lomp, and others.

Here at the end, let us recall, among the various livelihoods of the Neustadt, the large number of porters, most of whom worked in the Altstadt, and at the train [station].

A great number of poor people came out of the Neustadt (who would go [begging] from door to door).

This, taken in its entirety, presents a portrait of our Neustadt world, which, as we have previously mentioned, differentiated itself quite sharply from the Altstadt.

Yes – this difference was eliminated by the Nazi beasts. Neustadt became the last stop for all three parts of Zamość. It was here that all the local and foreign Jews were brought, before they were led to the slaughter. Here, all stations in life were made level, livelihoods and groups – they had on one, single relationship – the common Jewish folk masses.

This is related in the chapter on the Holocaust.

Translator's footnotes:

1. Formal Russian designation of the seat of the official Rabbi of the location. Return
2. Author's Footnote: ‘Wilko’ was the former name of the area. Return
3. From the Russian word for a watchman. Return
4. The Russian dictionary defines a ‘leshnik’ as a wood-goblin, or a satyr… Return
5. This is the name of one of the famous volumes of Maimonides. Return
6. Literally, the ‘Table.’ Actually, a ritual – around a table – where food was taken, and the Rebbe offered his ‘wisdom’ to those who partook in food with him. Return
7. This is the Hebrew word for ‘a reprimand.’ Apparently Shmuel-Yossel'eh was called in to administer such ‘a reprimand’ as an enforcer of sorts. As was the case with so many others, the sobriquet became a replacement for a last name. Return
8. The famous Jewish wit of Eastern Europe. Return
9. Here is yet another case where an occupational name, Lehrer [sic: Teacher] has usurped the position of a family name. Return
10. It is not completely clear from the text, whether this should properly be translated as ‘Anshel the Scissor,’ given the man's occupation, which undoubtedly encompassed garment cutting. This would be completely in keeping with the way nicknames were assigned by type of work a person did for a living. If so, this could be viewed as an early Jewish precursor to ‘Mack the Knife.’ Return
11. From the Russian, meaning ‘Unyielding in God's Service.’ Return
12. The variation on spelling here from ‘Blind Shmuel’ is unexplained. Return
13. The Czarist Secret Police. Return
14. A sobriquet taken from the Russian word for a step-father. This may be attributed to the grandfather's role as a Heder teacher, and could be indicative of his relationship to the children (for better or for worse…) Return
15. From the beginning, there was disagreement about what name to give the proposed Jewish battalion. “Bar Kochba” was one suggestion, and it was favored by the well-known German writer and former captain in the Kaiser's army, Ludwig Renn, author of the pacifist novel 1914, which appeared even before Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front. He was the military expert for the International Brigades and commander of the German 13^th Thaelmann Brigade. A number of Jewish communists, especially Gershon Dua (Admani), a former Labor Zionist, and Eugeniusz Szir opposed the idea and, instead, won approval of the name “Botwin,” to honor the memory of the Communist hero and martyr from Lemberg, Naphtali Botwin, condemned to the gallows for shooting a Polish provocateur. Return
16. Author's footnote: An array of the details used to round out this chapter were supplied by Moshe Freilich. Return
17. This is a Yiddish elision of the Hebrew words Baal Agalah, literally a wagon master. Return
18. From the Russian, ‘vozhok,’ which was a sledge-coach. Return
19. This was a driver of a droshky, or a passenger carriage. Return
20. Meaning a wagon-driver, and likely connected to his occupation. Return
21. A rather uncomplimentary nickname, implying that the individual had the capacity to make you a bit crazy… Return
22. From the German word, 'to whip,' and may be a way of describing a teamster. Return
23. From the Russian, ‘Tchelovek,’ meaning a person, or an individual. It is a slangy usage, like the English, ‘guy’ or the Italian, ‘gavone,’ usually applied to someone of earthy character. Return
24. From the Russian, ‘podval’ meaning a basement, or a vault. Return
25. Derived from the Yiddish word, ‘pareh,’ for steam. It has nothing to do with parve food. Return

  Zamość, Poland     Yizkor Book Project     JewishGen Home Page

Copyright © 1999-2024 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 29 May 2023 by JH