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The Zamość Members of ‘Linat-HaTzedek’ at a Farewell Evening for the Chairman of the Group, R' Mordechai-Joseph Kornfeld at the Occasion of His Trip to Visit the Land of Israel in the Year 1935

Lo, I see it as if it were now, when we, a group of activists, on a severely frosty night in the year 1919, gathered together in the small community shtibl (‘kahal-shul'khl’) with the idea of creating this institution.

The war years, the transfer of city from hand to hand, Petlura and other scourges, created a stage for all manner of disease, for epidemics. The economic upheaval of the Jewish population, which had been exhausted and starved, was a good platform for all manner of disease, which indeed took on the character of an epidemic.

I recall that at that meeting there were – apart from the writer of these lines – also: Berel Bloom, Shmuel-Itcheh Kornblit, Simcha Cohen, David Gandz, Yaakov Hechtkopf, Shlomo-David Fershtendig, Moshe-Joseph Blekh, Zelig Ackerman, Eliyahu Zwillich, Tanhum Zingerman.

It is possible, God forbid, that I have left someone out, so I hope that the deceased and martyred will forgive me, and the living will take no umbrage – I have not deliberately omitted their names – it has already been many years (and what years!) That have passed – it is possible to forget.

The leadership of ‘Linat-HaTzedek’ was constituted of the following: Chairman – Berel Bloom; Vice Chairman – Akiva Eierweiss; Secretary – Shmuel-Itcheh Kornblit; Leader – ‘Gospodazh’ – Moshe-Joseph Blekh; Treasurer – Shlomo-David Fershtendig. Members of the leadership: Yaakov Hechtkopf, Elyeh Zwillich, David Gandz, Zelig Ackerman, Simcha Cohen, Tanhum Zingerman.

It was not easy at all to establish and run the new organization. The Altstadt in Zamość was used to institutions with substance – and her we were lacking, we had no leadership, no financial resources, no doctors at the ready, no instruments for the sick, and the needs were very, very extensive…

But right from the start, our dear Zamość Jews immediately responded to our initiative. Everyone assessed themselves, and furthermore, in order, laid one brick on top of another brick, until the ‘Linat-HaTzedek’ institution became one of the most important in the city, in which one could indeed take pride. It was surrounded with a large number of members and had a reputation as an institution where everything was done in a proper fashion, without any dark shadowy corners.

Four doctors served with the ‘Linat-HaTzedek:’ Geliebter, Rosenbush, Tzinberg, Bogutsky, and two Feldschers: Itcheh'leh Wechter, and Bajczman.

We accumulated a rather large inventory of instruments for the ill withing ‘Linat-HaTzedek.’ And when the circumstances of need arose, those with means also took advantage of its use.

The institution became so popular, that there practically was no Jew in Zamość that was not a member of ‘Linat-HaTzedek’ and paid a regular membership fee to it.

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‘Linat-HaTzedek’ had regular financial income not only from membership dues. A Drama Circle would put on plays; [there were] flower days; subsidies from the community and in general, expenditures by a variety of groups – often times even from outside of Zamość. The good name of ‘Linat-HaTzedek’ opened the doors (and the pockets) of everyone that the institution approached.

Indeed, a ‘formidable’ capital base grew within ‘Linat-HaTzedek,’ which rose to 2,000 gulden (or even more) – a very significant sum for those times.

It was therefore decided at one of the meetings of the leadership, that a sanatorium would be built in the beautiful airy woods of Krasnobrod (a well-known place for summer residences) for use by the sick from Zamość.

And indeed, a beautiful piece of wooded property was purchased for 1000 gulden, and this issue was, little by little, turned into a reality.

I left Zamość in 1928, moved to Warsaw, and I was not there for the final realization of this great work. However, the sanatorium was built, and it became a model for the other support institutions of this kind throughout Poland.

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On the occasion of the laying of the cornerstone of the ‘TOZ’ building in Zamość on April 28, 1931 From left to right: Mrs. Messer, Shmuel-Elyeh Schwertschaft, Hirsch Messer, Baruch Sobol, Leibl (a carpenter from the Neustadt), Moshe Herman, Jonah-Shia Peretz (A brother of I. L. Peretz), Dr. Wegmeister (lady) and her child, Dr. Rosenbush (lady), Elyeh Epstein, Dr. Wollman (General-Secretary of ‘TOZ’ in Poland)…. Dr. Tzimberg, Mrs. Kleinerman (daughter of Hirsch-Leibusz Margolies), The last three ladies – guests from Warsaw. Except for the following four: Sobol, Epsstein, Dr. Wollman, Dr. Tzimberg, all were killed by the Nazis.

Even as far back as the last years of the previous century, a Kosher Kitchen, for the Jewish recruits in the Czarist garrison of Zamość ,was created through the initiative of Rabbi Joseph-Shlomo-Shabtai HaLevi. (I those times, it was held to be a tragedy for the Jewish recruits to have to eat from the general unkosher common military kitchen). The kitchen was organized by Reizl the Baker. Apart from this, many balebatim of means would take in Jewish recruits for the entire term of their service. For the most part, this was in cases when the recruit was a relative, or somehow connected through business that his parents conducted with the given Zamość family head. Many balebatim had their steady Jewish recruits on the Sabbaths and Festivals. It was not rare for such a recruit to remain as a son-in-law in Zamość.

When the divisions were in Zamość for maneuvers, and if this happened to fall during the days of Shavuot, I remember that there practically was no Jewish house that would not have a guest for the holiday, a Jewish recruit.

This old tradition, from the Czarist days, persisted until the last days of Polish independence. There was no longer a permanent kosher kitchen for all of the recruits, however, they were all taken in for the Sabbaths and Festivals, and especially for Passover, general Seders were organized.

The means used to support the previously mentioned kitchen for the recruits were generated by the young men of the Bet HaMedrash, who would collect a monthly assessment from the balebatim of the city.

Also, the young men of the Bet HaMedrash had a treasury (collected from the worshipers at the Bet HaMedrash Sanctuary), which on demand, was used to support a meal, a lunch, and periodically also with expenditures in the nearby city.

At approximately the same time of the founding of the kitchen for the recruits, a through the initiative of Mottel Mandeltor, an Old Age home was constructed in the yard of the mikva where elderly Jewish men and women could obtain a residence and a bit of food, and live out the winter of their lives in peace.

The Old Age Home existed up to the time of the Holocaust. Aharon Dudel Voveh's Geliebter and his wife Margalit, involved himself with providing the means for the Old Age Home in its final years.

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The Founding of ‘Linat-HaTzedek’

‘Linat-HaTzedek’ is told about in an array of writings. This institution is recalled in the Pinkas in other places. Everywhere, the activity of the institution after the First World War is described. However, in fact, the ‘Linat-HaTzedek’ Society was established in 1911. Before this, there was an unofficial ‘Bikkur Kholim’ Society. The objectives at that time were the same as they were in the later years: medicines for the sick among the poor; physicians and [medical] instruments; milk and nourishment. Special attention was placed on sending people who would spend the night with the seriously ill, in cases where the members of the immediate family were exhausted with dealing with a protracted illness.

The founders of the ‘Linat-HaTzedek’ were: Shmuel Ashkenazi, his doctor, Sukhowolsky, Elkhanan Eidelsberg, Baicheh Pfeffer, Chaim Brenner, Chaim Huberman and others.

The work of ‘Linat-HaTzedek,’ which was interrupted during the time of the First World War, was renewed during the time of the first German occupation. The Society existed up to the Holocaust.

I the last years before the Holocaust, there existed a Gemilut-Hessed Funds in Zamość, both in the city and in the Neustadt. The oldest of these funds was established at the beginning of the current [viz: 20^th] century. The founders were: Hirsch Handelsman, Yaakov-Joseph Schneerson, Dr. Sukhowolsky, Yehonatan Eibeschutz, Elyeh Mandeltort, and others. Ignacy Margolies and Ben-Zion Lubliner took a special interest in, and supported the Gemilut-Hessed Fund, in the final years.

The activity of ‘TOZ’ is generally known, the society that guarded the health of the Jewish populace. The Jewish populace without means were the primary beneficiaries of this activity. I Zamość, the activity of ‘TOZ’ was very successful. During the 20 years before the Holocaust, ‘TOZ’ fulfilled one of the highest missions in our city. Every year, a summer colony for the children of the poor; in the winter, food in all schools without differentiation; sending sick children to sanatoria, and so forth. The ‘TOZ’ in Zamość built its own well-appointed house for the children of parents without means. The children in this house were there from the morning until 4 in the afternoon. They were under the oversight of a female teacher, and were given food several times a day.

The founders and active doers on behalf of ‘TOZ’ were: Dr. Rosenbush (lady doctor), Mrs. Tzigelman, Mrs. Kleinerman-Margolies, Stelli Cohen, the wife of Dr. Tzinberg, Eliyahu Epstein, and others. I the last years, the following assisted in the ‘TOZ’ activities: Dr. Shaul Grossbaum, Mrs. Goldwag, Mrs. Dvora Shpizeisen, Joseph Luxembourg, Simcha Zwerin. The Teacher-governess of the children's home during the entire time of its existence was Mrs. Miriam Wurst.

The effective institutions that they created were also destroyed with the extermination of the Jews of Zamość.

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1926 – a difficult, cold and rainy winter. Over the holiday season, a frightful wave of unemployment overtook the working classes. First among all were the tailors. The first victims were the young people. The older workers still had a couple of days of work during the week, doing jackets and coats (which were required during the cold season); however, it was possible to get along without the young people, who were mostly employed in making trousers and vests – who in this crisis year was preparing suits?

The youth in general was poorly clothed and shod – how do you say, ‘all the shoemakers go barefoot.’ Also, people went about hungry. It was necessary to contribute the meager earnings, which one received during the times when one worked, to the household budget of impoverished parents. The plight of these 15-16 year-old ‘wage earners’ was difficult.

It was not only about the proverbial piece of bread that young people thought of. True, this young generation was raised in the difficult time of the German occupation of the years 1915-1917. Then we were 9-10 year-old children. Want and hunger oppressed us. Not one of us was missing the means to be able to attend Heder or another educational institution. [We were] Raised in the street, under God's only watchful eye. The hungry children sought all means to obtain a potato, a carrot, and apple. About bread, there was nothing to think about. We would have grown up to be uncivilized, held back and uncouth, had it not been for the evening courses, which at the end of the occupation were established by the Bundist organization. The teachers were Salek Goldstein, Mikh'cheh Levin and Chaim Shtikh. They taught us both reading and writing there, and also afforded us a little warmth.

The thirst for knowledge, the inclination to learn, remained with us. That which we had endured so much, served to drive us young people to greater acquisition of knowledge, to broader fields of knowledge. We were the ones who literally swallowed the books from the library. We were those, who sought to live our lives in the professional union – the institution that fought for a better life for us.

From our meager earnings, we needed to deduct something for the library, in order not to remain in debt to the professional union. Very often, it indeed was the library and the union had first claim and later, a part of the expense budget.

The young people were indeed among the most important consumers of the large and rich I. L. Peretz library. It was the young people who filled the rooms of the library and its reading room. We were barely able to wait for the new shipment of books from the ‘Culture League,’ or from American publishers.

I remind myself, that one time, a shipment of new books arrived. It had to take between 15-20 days till the books could be sorted, bound and catalogued, But who can have the patience to wait that long…. so the librarian was approached, and he was requested to release the book until it went through the entire procedure. It was necessary to submit a double ‘security’ and return the book immediately the following morning… these ‘illegal’ transactions were conducted secretly. And Maxim Gorky's ‘The Mother’ was digested overnight, Anatole France's ‘Thaïs,’ or Knut Hamson's ‘Hunger.’ There was no greater joy among the young people than – having the privilege of having an unnumbered book from the library….

The library became an alternative to the poor, cold and hungry home. One stood and sat in all the corners. Often, a book was picked up, and on the spot, standing, read it in its entirety, and upon leaving – take another one home.

And the Friday evenings – the bench evenings, lectures, literary evaluations – everywhere, it was the young people in the first ranks. And they were not silent listeners. They would often speak out, react, threw in a personal opinion and

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an observation. Here comes an assessment of Opotashu's ‘I the Forests of Poland𕲁 – the youth comes out with an opinion that the judging panel is not the appropriate one… and there is a reaction – the intelligentsia of the bourgeoisie cannot be the right ones to judge the ‘Forests.’

One sought to provision the hungry youth, that was without an upbringing, with knowledge, with more things to know about. To catch up to that which previously could not be achieved.

On a certain day, the idea arose to create a choir from the professional unions. Among us was an aggressive fellow, Avigdor Felstein, who had a beautiful and very inviting voice. He was one of the first and best singers for the Rabbi of the Neustadt, who had the franchise to conduct the Musaf service during the High Holy Days. So we approached him, asking if he would organize the choir. He obtained full authority from us to become the director of such a choir, and that he should select from among the young people, those appropriate and talented singers.

A whole series of ‘auditions’ started – the young people passing through Avigdor Felstein's examination. The joy was great among those who were ‘accepted’ into the choir, to the point of tears in their eyes, and it was with great disappointment in their hearts that those who had to leave the room who had been rejected by Avigdor.

A discipline was instituted. Whoever misses three rehearsals is dropped. However, there were no such people to be found. Understandably, the repertoire consisted of labor songs and songs of struggle (it is after all a choir of the working young). The first concert was awaited with trembling and a beating of the hearts.

The concert was scheduled for a Sabbath. There were songs and declamatory readings in the program, everything from the assembled repertoire of struggle. A part of the songs were illustrated scenically. He song, ‘I the Smithy,’ was indeed accompanied by surrounding scenery – a smithy, a smith's forge, a bellows and the singers were indeed dressed like blacksmiths. Abraham Reisen's ‘O, why do you ring, O church bells?’ was accompanied by ringing bells.

As previously said, the songs were interwoven with declamations. After the song, ‘I the Smithy,’ the writer of these lines read a poem from an unknown author (he found this poem on a page of a calendar from Gitlin's detachable calendar), which starts with the following words:

‘…the young armies struggle like heroes,
Innocent blood id shed.
More and more strongly,
The rows are more stout.
The closer the victory
The more vigorous the energy…’

The room was as if besieged. Masses of people stood around the windows and doors, who were unable to be accommodated inside. I the middle of the action on the scene, our order keepers enter with troubled faces: – youthful delegations have arrived from the surrounding towns: Szczebrzeszyn, Komarow, Tyszowce, and Tomaszow-Lubliner. How can we not let them in? They came on foot… a way out was found – we let them in through a back door, and set them up on the scenery behind the coulisses.

The impression made by the first concert was wildly great. It was said that on that Sabbath, the synagogue was half empty…

The first public appearance of the working youth – tailors, carpenters, shoemakers – overwhelmed the organizers themselves, and they begin to think that they must take an additional step – organizing a Drama Circle.

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Theater-Performances

A group of young people from that time, photographed after an evening of entertainment

The leaders of the professional unions themselves took to this project rather skeptically – what do these young people mean, that this is some sort of Purim play?… however, the Chairman of the council, comrade Yaakov-Meir Topf gave us an underpinning, supported our initiative – on the contrary gang, give it a try.

First, a director was needed, and a piece to perform. Well, a piece was quickly found – and in this problem, we were helped out by Volf'ishl Kornmass. He, Volvish, was a voracious reader, digesting everything; from poetry to scientific works, and political economics. It happened that he was in the process of reading a volume of Peretz Hirshbein's dramas. He comes and says – it will be necessary to produce ‘Miriam.’ – ‘Miriam?’ – we gather together, and we begin to read, Yaakov-Meir Topf our sponsor, is also here, and he becomes convinced: ‘Miriam!’

Also, the second question, of a director, gets resolved. It appears that with us in Zamość there is a director from the land of directors. He had already directed great artists (it is said that he even has income from this). This was Lieber Emmer's son-in-law – Akiva Eierweiss (today in Israel, and had a couple of articles in our Pinkas).

Well, the upshot is that he is asked. A delegation goes off to him (he was a merchant) and he comes immediately, since it appears that his ‘old calling’ attracted him, and he took himself immediately to the task.

His first ‘interview’ consisted of 3 questions:

1. Had any one of us ever ‘performed in the theater’ already?
2. Do we know that in order to perform theater, it is necessary to have tight discipline?
3. Do we know that any piece to be performed for the theater has to first be ‘censored?’

It is necessary to understand the way the heats beat among us young people. Only ten men could take parts in ‘Miriam.’ And everyone wanted a ‘big part.’ But Volvish declared: ‘Prima Donnas, discipline!’ And the selection was put in the hands of the ‘Comrade Director,’ to pick the ensemble.

And the work commenced. Those who were recognized by the director as having talent to perform, were assigned to the repertory; the others drew posters, prepared the stage, did the decorations, created all the requisites.

One fine day, the piece comes back from Lublin, form the District office with a great liability – the censor had stricken the fourth and last act of ‘Miriam.’ We were left stricken – what will be? The very best had been excised!…. But Volvish is not deterred – he encourages the ‘Show Players.’ The fourth act of ‘Miriam’ will be performed. – When? How? I What Manner? For the time being, it is in his head. It will come to be, enemies may only fall by the way.

We prepared ourselves for the general rehearsal. Stage props (hand made) hung on all the hooks. The tickets were literally grabbed up. Commitments also came in from the surrounding towns.

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I will never forget the picture how we, the young folk – tailors, carpenters, shoemakers – appeared in front of a large audience in the ‘Oazow’ Theater which was filled to overflowing. The theater was breaking from being overfilled with people.

We did not forget our laboring parents. They are indeed, the right in-laws at this happy occasion. They sat and received nachas from us. Fathers stroked their beards in pleasure, and mothers wiped a tear from their eyes – – –

On the morrow, there was a hubbub in the streets on tables and on the benches, And the success called out, as it says: ‘You have won, so perform again.’

However, the diminutive Volvish comes, with Breineh Gildiner (today in America) and say – no, for the time being, we do not perform until we pay off a debt…

We owe a debt to the audience – the fourth act of ‘Miriam,’ that the censor had cut out….

They have a plan already – a literary-artistic evening will be arranged, and there, the ‘debt’ will be paid.

I our work to educate and enlighten the youth, the literary-artistic evenings occupied a very prominent place. They took place from time-to-time. Here, I will tell about that night, when we paid the ‘debt’ the fourth act of ‘Miriam.’

I the program for this type of evening, there was a requirement not only for literature and art, but also a little entertainment. The complaint was – what? Is dancing only for the rich? And working class youth have no right to such a thing? So sleeves were rolled up, and an evening was prepared, that would not be an embarrassment for the prior theater presentation.

Having worked ourselves out with the preparation of the program, it becomes evident that the work was for nothing. There is no room, all are taken, it is carnival time.

So, our philosopher arrives, with his high forehead and deep-set eyes, and permanent pensiveness, Oren Arbesfeld, and proposes – Gang, I have a room! – So we begin to inquire: – where? – He replies a bit fearfully, hoping he will not be laughed at: – in the headquarters of the fire-fighters command.. Near the municipal electrical plant.

This had not occurred to anyone. We accept the plan, and a delegation went off to the Municipal chief of the fire-fighters. We took the fire-fighters headquarters for our evening.

Anyone who had hands, took part in the work, cleaning the place, decorating the room. The barrels of water were taken outside, the hoses, and the entire fire-fighting alarm system. The young carpenters applied itself to the necessary carpentry work, making the room fit for dancing. We worked at night, because during the day, we had to go to our paying jobs.

This evening came off successfully. A couple of days before the evening, there was already a shortage of tickets. The audience was also somewhat unusual, many new faces, which we had not previously seen at any of our undertakings.

A buffet with all manner of goodies was also prepared. Between dances, the participants grabbed a bite. We danced like young people can, to the accompaniment of a good orchestra (true, not symphonic).

The public got a little tired of dancing, and then the literary portion began. The first portrait presented a decoration room with Oren Arbesfeld as the director. He begins to read the ‘Political Telegrams’ that had been received, which are received by the audience with appropriate laughter. These are followed by ‘Political Commentaries,’ and then later by ‘Local News’….

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There is a break, and a ‘Lively Post’ is prepared. Everyone buys a sealed envelope ‘for keeping secrets,’ and little letters are sent to the selected ones. Another heady moment is achieved.

After the ‘Post,’ our choir appears with new songs, which the audience greets with applause. Then a variety of declamations are presented by the young people. The ecstasy is without bound. Also, the writer of these lines appeared with a declamation. Taken, as before, from the page of a calendar:

‘…not in prison, decayed and weak; I will die in battle!
Where my hot blood will stain the earth red!
No weeping at my death; only music will play.
I will go into battle dancing. I will fall inebriated.
Falling with the sword in hand, from the wild slaughter,
I do not want alms boxes to be shaken by my bedside…’

It did not bother anyone that such sad songs about death and the death bed were mixed in with the dance and song – the young people took it up fervently.

It was only later that the local action took place. The ‘debt’ was paid – it was said that Volvish was going to recite the fourth act from ‘Miriam.’ It is hard to describe what took place there. The inspiration, the enthusiasm, no small thing, we had achieved such a victory! – the censored dangerous act form ‘Miriam’ got a hearing…

Later we danced again, more joy, until the early morning hours arrived.

A Group of Youth Activists From the right to left, standing: Shimon Cooperman, Ber'cheh Kormuss, Bluma Plug, F. Schatz, Mendel Finkman Sitting: Chana Bronfenbrenner, Oren Arbesfeld, Pesha-Reizl Kleiner

On a beautiful morning (in the year 1925), a business manager of a famous Jewish artist comes to Zamość, and publicizes in the streets that on such and such a date, the play, ‘The Red Cuckoo’ will be performed, and ‘The Lame Man.’

The ‘Red Cuckoo,’ in its content, would come out against the struggle of the workers, against ideals that out youth held to be sacred. Well, a delegation of the older enlightened workers went off to the Hotel ‘Victoria,’ (I the delegation were: Vigdor Rieder – a baker; Itcheh Morrer – a baker, and Yaakov-Meir Topf, a hatmaker, the chairman of the council of the professional unions). The delegation wanted to achieve an understanding with the chief performer (I do not call him by his name, because he is still alive, and performs in Yiddish theater around the world^[1]). The artist, however, did not find it necessary to receive the delegation, and to ask what it wanted. When the comrades made clear to the business manager the reason that they had come, he went off to the artist and relayed their request. Then the artist came out in all his glory, personally, did not even greet the delegation, but immediately let out a shout: – Get out of here! Or I will immediately have you arrested… literally chased the delegation out.

When this became known among the workers, it was decided emphatically that this insult would not be allowed to pass. first, a boycott against this troupe was declared. literally every house and business establishment was paid a visit, and the entire story was related. The young shoemakers thought up something else as well…

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On the evening of the performance, several policemen strolled about the theater room. This alone was a novelty with us, and in the event that anyone came to buy a ticket, he ran home out of fear. The troupe began to perform to an empty house. There was a single family that sat in a loge seat – and this was the commandant of police with his wife and children… in the middle of the act, the play was interrupted, because the commandant as well went home.

The young shoemakers meanwhile slashed the tires of the omnibus….

The artist ran to the police; and the ‘perpetrators’ were hunted for. But go look for a wind in the field. It took a long time until replacement tires were brought from Lublin. It was not possible to obtain replacement tires for this assaulted omnibus in the city itself. The young people had let it be known, that whoever will provide tires for this theater-troupe, will have to answer to them… until such time as the tires arrived from Lublin, no member of the troupe was seen in the streets. Before dawn, they fled the city stealthily. Their denouement followed them for a period of time in a variety of cities and towns.

Several weeks later, on an evening, a stranger comes into the professional union. He asks to speak with someone from the leadership, of which no one was present. When he was asked who he was, and what he wants, he clarified that he is a representative of the famous Jewish theater-troupe of Julius Adler. He wants to obtain an understanding with the Jewish worker organizations about pieces that the troupe will be performing. I passing, he mentioned that he knew of what had taken place with the previous troupe… As to the question of what sort of pieces the troupe had in mind to perform, he offered two: The ‘Seven Who Were Hanged’ by Andreyev, and ‘The Father’ by Strindberg. He first was immediately accepted. Regarding the second, an answer was promised. After becoming acquainted with the contents of ‘Father,’ and seeing that it contained no anti-worker sentiment, the second work was approved. The troupe put on several performances, and left Zamość with great material and moral success.

I the Yiddish theater world, Zamość obtained a special reputation – one took care regarding what was performed in Zamość.

A group of young activists From right to left, above: D. Levinson, Simcha Arbesfeld, Leibl Cooperman; Sitting: Israel Garfinkel, Chaya'leh Gri, Lejzor Finkman, Yehudit Schatz, Yaakov Shpizeisen

Israel Garfinkel was born and raised in a wealthy home. His father was a prominent Hasid, his mother, staunchly pious – a very strictly religious household. Israel was a handsome boy, with a pair of black Gypsy-like eyes, and a head of black hair. He was physically well-developed, and an unusual good-heartedness shined forth from him. He would always apologize to us for having been born ‘successfully’ to rich parents, and does nothing…

He would often say to us: – Yes, my dear friend! I know that you treat me courteously, but in your hearts you certainly think – what does such a person know about what work means? What does he feel that want possibly means? Does he know what it means to come home from work to a cold house, a poor one, which is lit by one small night lamp, and the mother serves a bit of cold and meager repast?…

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He would often mourn over the porters and wagon drivers in the street, who would stand and wait for entire days waiting to earn a single zloty, and often have to go home empty-handed.

– I know, he would say, that you already have a way of life, an ideal; your theater performances, your singing – all has, after all, a purpose. When you come home from work, and lay down to sleep, you sleep peacefully. And me, what am I? – A parasite, a nothing that takes from everyone. Among you, I feel stronger and more secure…

These sort of speeches didn't last very long. Taking counsel from no one, he went away, this young boy from a balebatish home, and searched out a trade for himself, an especially hard one, which we used to call, ‘Not thought of in terms of a Jew doing this’ – he becomes a sewer-maker, a labor that demanded a great deal of physical strength.

We had a sewer-contractor in the city by the name of Magaril. I his house, Polish or Russian was spoken (I am thinking that he was a Russian Jew). It was to this sewer-maker that 'Srolkeh sought to apprentice himself. When the sewer-maker said to him, that this is heavy work, not for a Jew, 'Srolkeh answered him: ‘Ja, Jestem Moncy’ (I am indeed strong), and he was accepted to do the work. From that time on, he was called 'Srolkeh Montzer by us.

It was as if a darkness had descended on his parents in his house. There was weeping, they pleaded with him that he should not defame his great pedigree…. but none of this helped.

– I want to earn my bread by decent means, he argued, earning it with my labor and sweat. He carried out his wishes.

'Srolkeh Montzer threw himself into community work like a starving man into food. There was no kind of work that he did not stand at the head. Whether legal, or illegal. He was a really dear guy. He is very hard to forget.

He needed to flee on one particular day. The police began to look for him. I the years 1927-1928 he went to the Soviet Union. He wasn't heard from in years. It was only after the Second World War, when the survivors from Zamość began to travel back to Poland, one of our landsleit, Rind, ran into him.

On a station in Uzbekistan, when an echelon of repatriated people was passing through, a man covered with hair, ran around among the train cars, calling out that he was looking for people from Zamość, and when asked who he was – he said to him, that he is 'Srolkeh Montzer. He related that he was here to be exiled. He asked to give regards to all of those who were from Zamość.

David Levinson also came from a fine but poor family. He came to out youth work with idealism and yearning. He was wondrously handsome, tall as a pine with a blond head of hair. He would constantly say that with us, he felt newly born. He could not bear the surroundings from which he came. There is just emptiness and helplessness. Among us he can feel himself. Here is where he would absorb fresh air. With you, the working young, he would argue, there is substance to your life, you are creating something more beautiful….

He also had a sister, Leah'leh, she was one of the most beautiful girls in Zamość. Indeed, she was referred to as our Shulamit. She worked in bookkeeping for Kestenberg.

David also threw himself into the active work with fire. He, too, had to leave Poland on a certain day. He was threatened with arrest, and he fled to France. He was exterminated during the Nazi occupation in France. I the year 1941, when Hitler's Germany attacked Russia, he voluntarily went off to fight against Germany and fell at the front.

'Srolkeh Wapniarsky – he came from a merchant family. His father was a wood merchant. They had a big warehouse of boards in the ‘Browar.’ I his house, they conducted themselves like nobles, aristocratically.

His father, a modern man with a short beard, dressed in short garments, wore pince-nez on his nose, which hung by a silk ribbon to the side. His mother was very beautiful, already an older woman, with a beautifully combed head of gray

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hair. I the home, they spoke Polish among themselves. However, when a Jewish person came into the house, they immediately switched to Mameloshn.

They lived in a very beautiful residence, with floors that were always polished. A piano, vases with flowers, added further elegance to the house. On the walls there were large pictures of Polish and Yiddish writers – among them, I. L. Peretz, Adam Mickiewicz, and on the sides, Julius Slowacki and Heinrich Heine. There house always looked like it was a holiday.

Yisroel'keh didn't feel festive in this household. There was a bitterness displayed on his metallic face constantly. He was constantly sunk in thought and dreaming. He had a disposition – he would hear everyone out, speaking very little, never wanting to carry on a discussion – not with his own friends, not with strangers.

He was very well read, and especially with serious literature. He would constantly have a variety of brochures in his pockets. He was a little alienated, not like the usual sons of the wealthy. When he looked at them, he would spit and say: – a bunch of parasites; waiting for their father to provide them with a rich bride, to get married, and then bring creatures into the world like themselves….

He related to us rather differently, the working class young. When one of us couldn't digest a tract of scientific socialism, or Marx's ‘[Das] Kapital,’ we would wend our way to him. His face would then take on a different color, and his eyes would light up. He would put a hand on our shoulder, and walking this way in the street, or in the park, with fire, with emphasis, he would explain to us that which we did not understand. We thought that we were standing in front of a living encyclopedia. Every one of us envied this guy greatly, who knew so much about historical materialism. We used to think that he knew Marx's ‘Das Kapital’ by heart. He would take us to his bosom with full affection, when he would make us happy, when we promised him, that every difficult question that we would not understand, we will ask him.

It is necessary to elaborate some more about Shlomo'leh Gerzon, he deserves a special chapter. His name, Gerzon, was not well-known, he was better known by his nickname, ‘Tapchan.’ He was perhaps one of the rarest and original types from our Zamość. I will attempt to portray him as I knew him from my childhood.

We became acquainted at the age of 12-14 years. My parents had rented a place to live from Byrakh Tokker in the city (this was in 1916), we left the Neustadt. Shlomo'leh's parents had already been living in this new residence.

When I came into Shlomo'leh's home for the first time, I found his father sick in bed. When I asked Shlomo'leh why his father was bedridden, he answered me that he father had gotten a ‘short leg’ (meaning simply a paralysis), and cannot walk about. The stricken leg indeed was laid on a board, bound up with iron and brick, which ‘stretched’ the leg.

His father was a strictly religious Jew, a Gerrer Hasid. Every evening, Jewish people would come to learn Gemara with him, and Mishnah, until late into the night. His mother was also religious, but a little more free already. This maybe because his thin little mother was breadwinner.

They lived in an attic apartment, but it was always clean in their place, despite the fact that the father was sick all year long.

Shlomo'leh had two brothers, Mottel'leh and Yekhiel. Also, a sister, Rachel'leh. I there home, there was always a loving relationship between the children and the parents. Even though the father was ill, his word was law.

His mother dealt in bordering, making frames or pictures. You can readily imagine that they didn't lick any honey from this in their house.

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A year of our acquaintance passed, and their father died. It was difficult for the mother to support four children by herself. Tuition, one way or another, clothing them. I the house, a ‘young man’ of 14 years of age, wanders about. Well, as to the others, they are still small, but Shlomo'leh may begin to look after the house.

What does such a mother do? She takes him by his child's hand, and leads him off to a tailor. She asks that he ‘take pity’ on the child, and teach him tailoring. But Shlomo'leh had very thin fingers. And it wasn't possible to provide him with a suitable thimble that would fit….

Little Shlomo'leh would look for every way to please the master, the master's wife, and also the workers.

If Shlomo'leh delivered some garment to a buyer, and would get ‘beer money’ he was very happy – today he will be able to buy something to eat, and he will come home full already, and not have to take away a meal from his mother, or the younger children….

This very Shlomo'leh with the skinny fingers, begins to listen to the workers talking among themselves, that they should not allow themselves to be exploited by the bosses; that there isn't even enough time to read a newspaper, and a book is already out of the question. That after 9-10 hours of work, one comes home dead-tired…

Shlomo'leh also hears about the fact that pupils are being exploited as maidservants, helping the balabustas in their homes with a variety of work, even pouring out a dirty chamber pot….bringing a pail of water when a fierce frost reigns outside.

Shlomo'leh hears all of this. He decides that he is going to help those who find themselves in need. And Shlomo'leh indeed demonstrated what he was capable of doing, and how to help.

On a certain morning, a group of arrested workers were brought to Zamość from Hrubieszow. They were taken immediately to prison. When the workers in the city found out about this, they decided that it would be necessary to convey assistance to the arrested – a collections action for money and produce was carried out. I the meantime, it is learned that most of those arrested were family men, and had left wives and children behind, and ailing parents. It is decided that the money will be sent to the families and the produce to the prison.

Shlomo'leh hears about the produce collection, and the difficulties associated with it. Not thinking for very long, he proposes himself to the aid committee, for purposes of collecting produce, but with a condition, that he will do this alone, nobody is to help him. The committee formalized this, but allocated two people to help keep an eye on him…

On a certain day, Shlomo'leh arrived from home with two baskets. We see how he is deciding on where to begin. He made the first visit to Gedaliah Jonasgartel in the bakery. From there, he emerged with two large loaves of bread. Satisfied with his initial success, he picks up the baskets and goes off to the colonial-business of Abraham Friedman. A while passes, and, apart from the bread, Shlomo'leh is carrying wrapped little packages in the baskets. He stands again for a while, spits into his hands, and went off to Manzi's, who had a big business and a factory for soap and candles in the Neustadt, from there to Yudel Becker… he already has full baskets. We want to emerge from our concealment to help him. But in a flash, he ran into his cousin's place, who lived diagonally opposite ‘Kukeh's’ (owner of a bakery) and from there he came out with empty baskets, and indeed, went into ‘Kukeh's’ and came out of there with loaves of bread in his hands. There he goes, running again, cutting through the ‘little orchards,’ and has already reached the ‘Rabotnik,’ – the cooperative store of the P. P. S. (Polish Socialist Party).

We, his ‘spies.’ were ashamed of the fact that we concealed ourselves. Little Shlomo'leh accomplished more than the entire committee with a technical apparatus and commission…and his tactic was to go everywhere, wherever the will moved him to go.

We observe that Shlomo'leh exists from the cooperative, and looks around. What is he looking for? Aha, an empty carriage is passing by, and he gives a whistle. He takes the carriage to the cooperative store, and he begins taking our

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large paper packages from there, full of produce. From there, he rides to his cousin's, taking his prior ‘deposit.’ It is a carriage full of produce. Here we decide to show ourselves to him, whether he likes it or not. So we ask him what he is conveying, and so he answers that some Jewish man had asked him to transport some things to the ‘Browar.’ So we say to him, that we have nothing to do, and we would like to ride along with him, and help him to unload the packages. He says – no, that no, the Jewish man made me promise that only he alone will do the transport, otherwise he will lose the fee.

We do not want to tell him that we have seen everything. So it ends up that we go into to see Yaakov-Meir Topf, he lived closest by, and as a threesome, we follow him to see what else will happen.

When we finally caught up to him at the prison gate, he was literally trembling from being upset. He could not forgive us for spying on him. Our reassurances, that we just wanted to help him, were to no avail. He drove us away with a shout. He alone will carry this out. The distance from the gate to the prison office was far. We want to help carry the packages, and he keeps on shouting – away! It pleased the guard – let this little Jew carry all the packages himself.

H carried everything over, and emerged victorious. It cost us a great deal of energy to persuade him to ride back with us into the city. He does not want to ride with ‘spies,’ he says. When we first assured him that we will present ourselves to the judgement of our comrades, he became willing to come into the carriage with us.

At night, the union was bubbling, everything about Shlomo'leh. He shouted warnings, screamed, and argued: ‘there are spies loose in the union’ – a comrades court needs to be convened, and it must done this very day.

He did not want to tell who the ‘spies’ were – he will tell this to the court.

However, he was calmed down. I the end, it was decided that Shlomo'leh would become our quartermaster, he will be the provider for the political prisoners, and he distinguished himself in this capacity.

One time, he was arrested with the baskets of produce, during the time he was making collections. He was taken to a hearing. He was asked who was sending him to make the collections. He replies – my heart sends me to collect; my dead father taught me, that it is necessary to help that person who finds himself in need.

He was beaten at the inquiry. It did no good, he kept on arguing – my heart tells me to do this. They tried to buy him off with goodness. Nothing helped. He was set free.

He so perfected his collection work, that he was met by people coming out of their houses when he approached. There were balabustas, who at the time they shopped for produce, would purchase a separate package for Shlomo'leh.

The following incident once took place. It had been established that every wagon driver, or carriage, which encountered Shlomo'leh with his baskets, would take him on board, and transported him to wherever he needed to be. One time, a carriage stopped, and asked him to step in. Shlomo'leh wants to get in, but he sees that people are already seated. So he refuses the offer. The wagon driver then says that the passengers will make room for him, and it turned out that the two passengers were the commandant of the prison and a secret agent.

Shlomo'leh hesitated for a moment, and then got in. After a couple of minutes of silence, a discussion developed between the prison commandant and Shlomo'leh. The commandant tried to reprove him, asking why he drags himself around in such cold and rainy weather, after all, he could get sick. Wouldn't it be better if he were to be sitting at work, where it is warm, and hum a tune…

Shlomo'leh answered: – Would the distinguished commandant permit me a question? Obtaining his consent, he replied as follows:

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– Does the distinguished commandant have children? And what would the distinguished gentleman think, if one of his children, a son or a daughter, were to be arrested somewhere in a city, where they have no relatives, would the distinguished commandant send those, in that place, who would want to help them, to sing songs? It is possible that the arrested people do not need these packages that I carry, they do have prison fare to eat and drink, but these are greetings from the free world. You, distinguished commandant, are after all, a religious man. You know what religion teaches, that it is incumbent upon us to help those who suffer with our entire hearts. My father was the one who taught me this kind of love.

The commandant was left owing Shlomo'leh an answer, and in the meantime, the coach had traveled to the prison. Here, something out of the ordinary took place. The commandant told Shlomo'leh to remain in the coach, and he, together with the secret agent, carried the baskets with the produce for the arrested people into the chancellery of the prison. He immediately came out with the empty baskets, and returned them to Shlomo'leh with the words: ‘Go with God, my son.’ He wanted, additionally, to pay the driver, to take Shlomo'leh to his home. However, the driver refused to take the extra money. Rather, he added a footnote: Would that all people understood that we need to help one another, then no evil would occur.

Shlomo'leh Gerzon, whom everyone knew by the nickname ‘Tapchan,’ in the end needed to flee Zamość, and later Poland. He went off to the Soviet Union. He was never heard from again.

Yerakhmiel and Riveleh Gartenkraut both came from a religious home of balebatim. Riveleh completed the Polish Gymnasium in Zamość. Both were drawn into our youth circle and worked very extensively in the area of Enlightenment.

I have already taken note – that in 1926 there was a sever unemployment crisis, especially among the young. Young people had nothing to do with their idle days. They were driven from their poor, cold and hungry homes, out into the rainy and cold streets. Therefore, they gravitated to the professional unions.

The union was located in [the home of] the Cooper family. The reality, is that we only had one ‘wall’ of this house – the remaining walls were taken by the homeowner and his furniture. As the family was always in the house, a small iron stove was always lit there. It was warm, how delicious… the group would sit, one person reading a newspaper, a book, or a discussion was carried on.

One of the guys chimes in: – I could eat a little piece of bread and herring right now… a second retorts: – if it was raining beans and noodles right now, it would be even better….

Among us was Shlomo'leh ‘Tapchan.’ Only now, do we catch on that he is not there.

I a little while, he comes in with fresh bread, several herring, a little sugar and a small package of tea. – Khevreh, he called out, – Food!

Nobody stirred. We didn't know where this gift came from. I called him aside and asked him if he was not giving away that which he had collected for the arrested people.

Shlomo'leh was insulted by the question. How could I even think such a thing? He tells me, that the bread comes from the Bakery workers, they are given bread daily, and he took a tithe from them; the produce is indeed from the inventory for those who are arrested. He has an excess at this time, because there are only ten men in prison and he had collected for twenty-five (a meeting of the circle judiciary had taken place, which had released a portion). And it is necessary to take from the donors, because otherwise, they will become unaccustomed to giving when the need arises again.

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It is his sense, that it will be possible to stat up an initiative, ‘Help for the Unemployed.’ I took up his reply, saying, that regarding such an initiative, the council of the professional unions will have to decide. Most importantly, we went back into the house, and the group began to eat. The balabusta provided a teapot, and from then on, it was established that a single meal could be gotten at the union: bread, herring and tea….

On a certain morning, coming out onto the street, I see Shlomo'leh at the Magistrate's Building, where he was talking to the councilman from the Bund, Yerakhmiel Brandwein. I was curious to know what was being said there. When Shlomo'leh spied me, he called out with satisfaction: – It's good that you are here, we have obtained two sacks of potatoes from the Magistrate, and also rock coal to keep the union local warm. He asks me to wait while he went up to Brandwein in the Magistrate Building to obtain the note for the coal and potatoes. Coming out, he told me to get a wagon driver to transport the coal and potatoes to the union. He still had things to take care of in the street.

When he came in from the street, with a package in his hands, he growled angrily: – What, the potatoes are not yet peeled? He is asked – and if they are peeled? – we shall see. He opens his package, and inside we find two livers, a pan, two fresh loaves of bread…

– From this day forward, my friends, we are done with bread and herring. Now we are going to have a real cooked meal. He had already obtained produce, there were potatoes, coal directly from the electric plant, which was across the way – a union kitchen was created. 

So a problem comes up – kitchen crockery is needed. The union kitchen became popular, and patrons arrived. But, here, Shlomo'leh conceives a plan. He calls me – come, we have to go someplace. It was bitter cold, and there was no desire to exit the warm union local.

– Come, you'll find out why along the way. Along the way, he asks me – you are acquainted with Deaf Manes? Itcheh Wolchak's son? And his sister, who are in the ‘Hayfl^[4],4’ do you know them? – Certainly I know them – I answered, but what does that have to do with what we are doing?

It was then that he explained his plan to me. Seeing that every summer pensioners reside in the summer home area of Krasnobrod, they have large pots, plates, and spoons. So he wants to ask the elderly Itcheh Wolchak if he will not lend [this equipment] for a union kitchen. We will pay him a usage fee….

I was astonished – are you crazy? Do you know what this means, to operate such a kitchen with utensils? And where will you get produce? Well, potatoes and liver, that's one thing, half a problem, but a kitchen?….

Are you afraid to present your poverty? – he answered me. Remain here, and I will go in by myself.

Shlomo'leh went inside, and I was swept along behind him. We came upon Itcheh Wolchak in his prayer shawl and phylacteries, at which time he remarked to us, and asks us: – Well, what's the good word? What do you require?

We felt a little bit at a loss, and I vehemently proclaimed, that we want a favor from him, but not, God forbid, for free.

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– If this is a favor, then I do not take any money for it, what do you need?

– From you, Reb Itcheh, we ask nothing, but rather, from your children, Shlomo'leh answered. At this moment, Manes and his sister came in off the street.

When he heard the favor that we wanted, that we wish to cook food for a set period for the unemployed, and that we are asking for a loan of the utensils, for which we are prepared to pay a usage fee.

‘Deaf Manes’ looked at us with bug-eyes in wonderment, and called out in his impaired voice:

– What, I should take a usage fee from you?

He and his sister personally will come to cook. All we have to do is provide the ingredients to go into the pots….

We didn't believe our ears. Shlomo'leh's optimism even made an impact on me. We went out all over the city. The first visit was to the slaughterhouses. The first donor was Shmuel-Yossel Scheid, he was a dear Jewish man. When we declared to him that we need some bones to make a soup for the unemployed, he called out good-heartedly: – Bones? Let the dogs eat them, and you, my dear children, will eat meat. Saying this, he sliced off a sizeable hunk of meat, and added: eat, and may it be of benefit to your health. You should come here every day. While he groused to himself in an undertone: ‘Bones, yet…’ Wait children, – that dear Shmuel-Yossel said – I will go through the abattoirs with you. From there we went to Shmuel Nir, and so forth, from abattoir to abattoir… there was meat aplenty.

From the ‘Rabotnik’ cooperative we received rice, beans, oil – the head of the cooperative, Fiedler, ordered us to come on every day.

The kitchen for the unemployed became known to middle class people. Who sympathized with the suffering brought on by the crisis, and voluntarily brought their contributions. I remember the names of those who stood out above others: ‘Lame Stashek,’ Shabbatson, Volvish Richtman's son-in-law, 'Luzer Nirenstein, a Dentist, Rachel'leh Morgenstern (had a big cigarette business), and more and more….

Shlomo'leh Gerzon (‘Tapchan’)

One time, when I went along with Shlomo'leh to collect produce, we are stopped by none other than Peretz'l Gonif, and approaches me in the following manner: – Seeing as I know you guys have set up a kitchen for the unemployed, I would like to help you out in some way – and he begins to reach for his pocket.

I, as his Heder classmate, thanked him for his jest, and said, that we are not collecting any money, only produce. We already have our donors.

Peretz'l remained stumped and silent for a while, and said: – I understand, you don't want to take money from a thief, you are doing a good thing – and he went away.

This incident hounded me a bit. True enough, the money came from theft, but his intention in this regard was decent….

On a certain day, a carriage comes riding up to the union, and the carriage driver begins to carry in packages with food, and a lot of potatoes. The packages were rather large. When we asked him who had sent this, he answered, that a man had asked him to deliver this, and he doesn't know any more than this. When we pressed the driver, and asked him

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further questions – who the donor is: – Jewish, Christian? He replied: – What's the difference? Let it be reckoned for his good health.

When we unpacked the packages, we were even more overwhelmed – kasha, rice, sugar, two tin cans of oil…we broke our heads – who can this be who is such a broad-hearted donor?

The very same carriage driver comes riding up to the union local for a second time. Once again, he begins to carry packages inside for our kitchen. I went around to the driver and addressed him – we have an agreement not to accept any gifts from unknown sources.

The driver was left in a quandary, and then declared to us: – I am forbidden to tell you the truth, but seeing that you are really demanding this of me, I therefore tell you: it is ‘Peretz'l Gonif’…. he warned me that if I will give him away, he will poison my horses…

We promised the driver that we will not give him away. However, we felt it was necessary to express our gratitude to Peretz'l for his very personable handling of this matter. We wrote up a letter to him, signed it as ‘a group of young people.’ Fate had it that I was to hand the letter to him.

I will never forget that specific moment. When I handed over the letter to Peretz'l, he broke down and wept like a child…. this was totally uncharacteristic of his stormy adventurous life. When he calmed down, he said to me:

– Yes, you are a decent guy, and what am I? A thief… having shamed my parents, my brothers. Here, both of us came out of the very same Heder. You set yourself on a decent path, and I became a young thief…. without a home, without friends. The best of my years are spent in jails. I am constantly escorted by beatings….

I comforted him: – Peretz, you are still young, you still can tear yourself away from this life….

News reached us about ‘Peretz'l Gonif’ under the Nazi Regime. He became a protector of the slaves in the Nazi places of oppression. Is someone was being oppressed, or if a ‘Kapo’ behaved in a bestial manner to those would be martyred, he would be threatened with the fact that ‘Peretz'l’ will take on their defense. Not only one time did ‘Peretz'l’ rescue his comrades under oppression from additional beatings and tribulations.

Our kitchen progressed. We had an overflow of produce, and we began to send midday meals to the homes of the sick and the poor, who did not have any warm food prepared in their homes, and we also arranged for those who worked out of doors – firstly the porters and wagon drivers – will be able to drop into the kitchen and refresh themselves with a bit of warm food.

It would indeed often happen that a father and son would satisfy their hunger at a warm plate of food… the union took the place of the cold home, and strengthened the family ties of those, who because of want, had their families sundered apart.

By the spring, unemployment had shrunk, the need grew less, and we liquidated the kitchen. However, the crockery had to be returned to ‘Deaf Manes.’…

Youthful memories, almost entirely from one year – it occurs to me that all of this is no longer here, the young people who struggled are not here, the folk people of good heart are not here, in general, the entire Jewish generation is not here – and I am seized by a crawling sensation of the skin….

Let these pages be a memorial stone for those nameless heroes, who with their commitment and simplicity, raised up our dear Zamość, which will never be forgotten by us.

Translator's footnotes:

1. Collateral evidence strongly suggests that this may have been Jonas Turkow, a well-know Yiddish Theater personality of the era, although there is no definitive way to substantiate this. Return
2. The nickname, ‘Little Israel, the Strong One.’ See the subsequent explanation of how he got this nickname. Return
3. Possibly someone who is light on their feet, or the opposite, clumsy. Return
4. Author's Footnote: The ‘Hayfl’ was a place of mention in Zamość and its environs. It was a large single story structure, which took up an entire quarter. It was possible to enter this ‘Hayfl’ through two formidable gates. Inside was an immense yard, literally a plaza. Along the inside walls, a wooden alley steps in the hundreds of dwellings, on the first level and in the cellars. Hundreds of families lived there, especially the Jewish poor, workers, craftsmen, but also shopkeepers. There were simple Jews, teachers, and Hasidic people. The ‘Hayfl’ was located diagonally opposite the ‘Stilov’ Theater, at the entry to the Neustadt. It had the appearance of a ‘Majestic’ building, similar to the barracks, which were in the vicinity. Was this perhaps a part of the fortress? The name is a name that makes fun of it, which was meant to contrast it to the Noble Palace of the ‘Hayfl’ Return

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