[Page 6]

My Bialystok, the city of my dearest's names… It's like a book that's tossed into the fire, Where names of kin are caught within the flames, And all, all branches of my tribe. Our grandfathers and our great-grandfathers too, Were the first weavers in that sphere which was new. They gathered in numbers, their faith held tight, Built entire communities, worked hard with hearts burning bright. They bought from Count Branicki empty land so wide, On both banks where Biala's waters glide. They pulled thick logs from the forest alone, And raised a town from timber and stone. They built the factories…they wove, they spun, They planned, they saved, until the work was done. With rags from the end of the world they traveled far, To find out where new markets for the Bialystoker “kort” are.[2] The young man speaks, with heavy breath, Words of terror, doom, extremely, extremely… His voice now echoes tales of death. All the old places remember deeply. And woe is me! Where is my city's face? My generation- gone, beyond a name. Where is my friend, my aunt, my uncle's grace? The world forgets, but I recall the flame. Where is my whole “past” in the world? The empty “now” will be passed on to the “later” - And on a foreign field some ashes are hurled... The Ghetto Streets begin to wake… It was at dawn, in our town, at five o'clock. The first disaster suddenly took place, With machine guns and full power they shocked. With hatred sharp and voices coarse, The Germans barked in their hard tongues, They tore the women from their sleep And hurled old people out to the street… A gang of manhunters, special trained, Worked quickly, planned, without restraint. Our first large group stepped into fate, Chased out into Shevat's frost, into the winds. Death waited with his black canopy at the gate For twelve thousand…men, their wives and their kids… My city of heroes and revolutionaries so brave, Who reached the fifth year through their fight. My city of weavers, hard work and faith - Always raised to be striving and upright. My generation was full of belief, Of expectation…of pride and of fire. We dreamed the future would bring relief, And somehow…man would rise up higher. We searched, we questioned, sought what's true, Justified much, but answers hid behind. A daring book with a kind of clue Bewildered Bialystok and waked its mind. My city was not grand, nor ever rich, But always full of struggle, resistance- and virtue. In Russia they would say, without a glitch: “Bialystok- a flame, and our country knew“… The children journeyed out to study and to grow, To Petersburg, to Lodz, to Heidelberg. My Bialystok stood by the wild forests' flow, That reached the far Bialowieza, vast and dark. The songs still linger, embedded in beating hearts, The forest meetings…former comrades, friends are near. The Cossack whips that struck with hate- The scars are visible to this date. Yisgadal V'Yiskadash[3]    So many are no longer with us...    Let this hour be sacred for us!    We mourn them without “rash“-[4]    Yisgadal v'yiskadash...    What do we have left?    Except for the burning tears that have been shed...    On the graves, on the ashes -    Yisgadal v'yiskadash!...

The old historic shul in Zabludove rises in flames, ascending into eternity... (Drawing by Benn)

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In the distant past, the Bialystok region was occupied by the fierce “Matvagn”^[2] tribe, one of the Baltic-Latvian tribes known in Russian history as late as the 10^th century. Both Vladimir the Saint in 983 and [his son] Yaroslav in 1038-1044 drove the “Yatvagn”^[2] out of Russian regions, actually pushing them back to the Narew River.

In 1279, they [the “Yatvagn”] sent messengers to the city of Ludmir [Ludmirz] with a request to save them from famine by selling them bread. In return, the messengers offered wax, fine furs, or silver. They gradually converted to Christianity and mixed with the population in the vicinity of the Neman River and in Prussia. Many geographical names in the area date back to that time.

In 1320, Herimin^[3] expelled the “Altvign”^[2] from our region and founded the settlement of “Bialystok.” In 1426, Witold, Herimin's grandson, gifted his “family estate, Bialystok” to Mateush Gashtold [Maciej Gasztołd], the military governor of Trake [Trakai] and Smolensk, as a great military honor.

The Gasztołd family ruled Bialystok for about a hundred years and held the voivodeship in Tiktin [Tykocin]. In 1542, Stanislav, the last of the Gasztołds, died. He had no children, and his widow, Varvara [Barbara], married the Polish king, Zigmund [Sigismund] Augustus. As a result of this marriage, Bialystok became the king's private property.

A wooden Catholic church has stood in Bialystok since ancient times. At the end of the 16^th century, the “apikorsishe” [heretical] sect of the “Aryans”^[4] -who did not believe in part of the Catholic dogma- spread throughout Lithuania and Poland. In Bialystok, the “Aryans” took possession of the church and desecrated it.

The “starosta” [administrator of the royal estate with military power] of Tykocin, Veselovski [Piotr Wiesiołowski], drove the “Aryans” out of the desecrated temple, burned it down, and built a new temple out of fired bricks.

King Sigismund donated 16 “włóka”^[5] acres for the church. Construction of the church took 37 years, from 1580 to 1617.

The great deeds of the “Starosta” Wiesiołowski were recorded on two commemorative plaques, which are still in the old church building today, so that the world would remember them.

One plaque from ancient times hangs on the right side of the entrance. The other was found under the old altar more than 30 years ago during the construction of the large new church. The plaque is made of rusted silver and is wrapped in bark.

Both plaques have nearly identical Latin inscriptions:

”In honor of the Most High–(and so on)–this temple, which was previously built of wood, is now built from the foundation up of fired bricks by the Grand Marshal of the Lithuanian Principality, the Starosta of Kovno, Tykocin, and Rumburg, Peter Wiesiołowski, in 1617.”

Toward the end of the 16^th century and into the 17^th century, Peter Wiesiołowski's property included the Bialystok settlement. In 1634, he merged his Bialystok estate with the “starostvo” [royal administrative district] of Tykocin.

Apparently, King Sigismund gave Bialystok to his meritorious “Starosta” Wiesiołowski, and it became his property.

I came into possession of eleven historical documents comprising thirty-nine pages by chance. Some are written in Latin, and the final pages are in Polish.

These extremely important documents were stamped with the seal of the hetman [a very high-ranking military commander], confirmed with the royal seal, and confirmed again in 1810 by the Russian court, which did not doubt their historical authenticity.

The documents cover a period from 1638 to the beginning of the nineteenth century. Through these documents, I learned about the various phases Bialystok experienced.

In 1638, the Great Marshal and Hetman Kristofer Wiesiołowski (Peter Wiesiołowski's successor) renounced his income from Bialystok in favor of Tykocin Castle, a first-class fortress. Documents also show that Wiesiołowski's heirs fought a long legal battle with Tykocin's “starosta”, Astronski, who had taken possession of Bialystok.

Later, Bialystok was considered royal property, and [King] Jan Kazimierz gave it to Hetman Stefan Czarniecki for life in 1659.

In 1661, the Warsaw Sejm [regular session of the parliament of the Polish-Lithuanian aristocratic republic] confirmed that Czarniecki owned the entire Tykocin and Bialystok “starostva” [royal administrative districts] in perpetuity.

This great hero, Stefan Czarniecki, whose monument stands in Tykocin (it is unclear whether the monument is still there), left a sad memory in the annals of Jewish history.

During the war with Sweden, he acted brutally and murderously towards the Jews of Kazmizh [Kazimierz]. In Greater Poland, he committed similar acts to those committed by Khmelnytsky in Ukraine. Later, when he became the military governor of Lemberg, he lived in harmony with the Jews and did not persecute them.

Stefan Czarniecki died without leaving a son. He left Bialystok to his daughter, Aleksandra Yekaterina, who married Jan Klemens Branicki. His son, Stefan Branicki, the military governor of Podlasie and “starosta” of Bryansk,

[Page 8]

transformed the village of Bialystok into a “shtetl” and settled in a palace he built himself. In 1723, Stefan Klemens Branicki's son enforced the “Mandenburg Rights”^[6] for Bialystok towards King Augustus II.

The palace of the wealthy man (at the corner of Vashlikover and Bazarne Street)

In 1717, Tereza Vidzhinska lent the Jewish “shul” [synagogue] 1,000 gildn [30,000 kopecks] on the condition that a candle be kept lit in the Catholic church in exchange for interest on the loan. This unusual contract is recorded on a plaque that still hangs in the old church to the left of the entrance.

Tereza Vidzhinska is indeed buried in the Catholic church, beneath the plaque and next to Izabela Branicka, the sister of the last Polish king, Poniatowski. She was the second wife of Count Jan Klemens Branicki of Bialystok, whose heart was buried in the same church in a small box next to the countess.

To get an idea of how much Count Branicki strove to develop his city of Bialystok, consider this episode recounted by the late Yuli Zabludovski on behalf of his wealthy grandfather, Yitskhok Zabludovski.

Two hundred years ago, Count Branicki sold the empty lot where Koshtshuski, Senkevitsh, and Zamenhof Streets meet Yatke Street, across from “Linas-Khoylim,” for 30 gildn [900 kopeks]. His customer, Khayim, paid a deposit of two gildn [60 kopeks]. However, he later regretted it, and the Count issued an order to arrest Khayim in his “voyevodshaft”–as far as it extended–and whip him with rods.

According to Count Branicki's will, in 1771, Bialystok was transferred to his wife, Countess Izabela. After her death in 1805, Bialystok and the palace were to be given to the countess's nephews, Feliks and Jan Potocki, and their sister, Marya Mastovska.

However, due to political upheavals and the so-called “partition” of Poland, the Bialystok region was already in the grasp of Prussian soldiers at that time. Three years before her death in 1802, the countess and the other heirs sold Bialystok to the Prussian king for $270,290, on the condition that she, the widow Branicka, remain the owner of Bialystok until her death.

Following the Peace of Tilsit, Russian Tsar Alexander I purchased Bialystok from the Prussian king. Bialystok remained in Russian hands for over a hundred years until it returned to the ownership of the flourishing Polish Republic after World War I.

Jews had lived in Bialystok for a very long time. They had even lived there long before the city hall tower was constructed.The Jewish settlement was concentrated around the courtyard of the “shul.” Bialystok did not have its own Jewish cemetery. During the reign of the last count, Jan Klemens Branicki, Jewish Bialystok began to spread beyond the boundaries of the old settlement due to the construction of the city hall tower and shops.

The royal court needed money, so it systematically permitted foreign Jews to settle in Bialystok. When Bialystok fell under Prussian rule, the Jews felt the king's yoke.

Before us is a letter of protection issued in 1799 by the Prussian king to Leyb Nathan and his wife, Kayle. The letter allows them to live in Bialystok and work as innkeepers. The document states that Jews must behave in accordance with the “General Regulations of 1797”^[7].

After Napoleon's army withdrew, some Saxons remained and established the hand weaving industry here^[8]. Soon after, Jews also began producing “plashtshinke kort”^[9] and cloth goods. The first to do so were Sender and Malka Reyzl Blokh, Nokhem (Nachum) Mints, Yoel Barash, Eliezer Halbershtam, and Halpern.

Let us work together to ensure the survival of the destroyed Jewish Bialystok

[Page 14]

During World War II, Avraham Shmuel Hershberg suffered the same tragic fate as the other Jews in Bialystok. He was already old and ill at the time. On 10 May 1940, the YTA (Jewish Telegraph Agency) reported that Hershberg had died in Bialystok.

However, this news proved to be incorrect. During the cruel war, Hershberg's fate was unknown to the outside world, as was the case with other remaining Jews in Bialystok in Hitler's hell.

After the war, Avraham Shmuel Hershberg's family in New York received a letter from the renowned Jewish scholar and writer Berl Mark. At that time, he was chairman of the newly formed Jewish Literary Society in Warsaw. In his letter, Berl Mark wrote:

“In response to your inquiry regarding the fate and death of the well-known Jewish historian and writer from Bialystok, I can inform you that he perished during the second liquidation of the Bialystoker Ghetto on August 17 or 18, 1943.

He was taken away by the Jewish police together with his daughter and the secretary of the Jewish community, Bakhrakh. He behaved very dignifiedly and gave a sharp reply to a German hooligan who wanted to beat him. He (Avraham Shmuel Hershberg) fell down in the middle of the street. Supported by the arms, he was led onto the death wagon. In the ghetto, he had lived in his old house on Gumyener Street. Unfortunately, his huge [quantities of] documents and manuscripts are no longer there.”

At that time, the police were stationed in Eli Meylekh's house on Yatke Street. The police chief issued an order for his officers to capture all dogs, cats, pigs, goats, cattle, and other similar animals found straying on the streets. Then, they were to impose a fine of 10 kopecks for each animal.

The police chief collected the money in a special tin box. Once he had collected one hundred and fifty rubles, he used the money to build the large town clock.

In Bialystok, people also said that Moyshe Trop had made the clock. Throughout his life, he used to check and regulate it.

Ultimately, when the Bolsheviks took Bialystok, they tore down the town clock. A park was built in its place.^[1]

Translator's note:

1. According to the Bialystoker historian, Dr. Tomek Wisniewski, Trop's clock has been preserved and is now located in the clock tower at the entrance to the Branicki Palace. His short film about this clock can be viewed here Najstarszy zegar Bialegostoku - Abraham Tropp - Witalis Puczyński - Andrzej Lechowski Return

[Page 16]

The first Jews in the Bialystok area appeared in Bielsk in 1487. Subsequently, Jews appeared in Tikotsin [Tykocin] in 1522, Surazh in 1525, Garvi [Grajewo or Goworowo?] in 1560, Oygustov [Augustów] and Botshka [Boćki] in 1577, Kleshtel [Kleszczele] in 1580, and Raigrodsh [Rajgród] in 1587.

In 1605, the first Jews appeared in Bialystok, Orli [Orla], Yashnovtse [Jasionówka?], and Knishin [Knyszyn]. In 1753, the first Jews appeared in Bryansk. The oldest “kehiles” [Jewish communities] were established in Tykocin (1522), Bielsk and Bialystok (1542), Orla (1616), Botshki (1648), Augustów (1674), Knyszyn (1705), Raigrodsh [Rajgród] (1719), Yashyonovke [Jasionówka?] (1731), and in Gonyandz [Goniadz].

It should be noted that the “kehile” in Bielsk was liquidated in the second half of the 18^th century. During that very same century, most Jews in the area lived in Bialystok and Tykocin. It is estimated that approximately half of the Jews in the Bialystok area lived in villages during this period.

Jews from Lithuania had lived in the Bialystok area from the beginning. Later, Jewish refugees from Germany arrived, as did Jews fleeing the advancing armies of [Bohdan] Khmelnytsky in the mid-17^th century.

The Jews there earned their livelihood primarily through crafts, tavern keeping, peddling in towns and villages, money lending, leasing, and similar activities. At that time, Jewish craftsmen in that area practiced 39 trades.

The most popular were:

Tailors, butchers, bakers, brewers, fur traders, gilders, and coachmen among others.

In terms of foreign trade, the Jews of Tykocin and Bialystok were quite active in this area. They had trade connections with distant cities such as Königsberg, Frankfurt, Odre, [Frankfurt Oder?], Leipzig, and Wrocław, as well as with Tsarist Russia.

The Jews of Knyszyn and Orla traded with Königsberg as well. Jewish merchants from the Bialystok area exported locally manufactured products and imported herring, textiles, metals, metal constructions, minerals, chemicals, and foodstuffs.

Jewish imports of various products from abroad greatly impacted the development of local industry. They also enriched regions that lacked grain and had insufficient agricultural development.

In terms of local trade within the country itself, the Jews of Tykocin, Bialystok, Orla, and Botshek were the most active. They traded with merchants from Grodne [Grodno], Varshe [Warsaw], Torne [Torun?], and Gdansk. Various goods were brought and transported away on large carts harnessed to two or four horses.

In general, Jewish merchants from the Bialystok area traded 160 different goods at that time.

The oldest Jewish occupations in the area included leasing mills and taverns, collecting fees for producing liquor [in the course of the propination laws], and generating income from rivers, among others.

In my thesis, I discovered that Jewish economic activities in that region and time period significantly contributed to the economic development of cities with Jewish communities.

Preserve the noble lineage of Bialystok

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It was at the end of the 1880s. In that century, A. B. Gotlober lived with his daughter in Bialystok. I no longer remember her family name. Her husband was a lawyer. Her first name was Sofie.

She had a son named Yashe. He was my friend. I visited him almost every day. Gotlober's daughter was a highly educated woman who taught German and French at her home. Many educated young men came to visit her. They discussed various topics there.

Old Gotlober was blind, so the young people who visited him read to him every day from the newspaper HaTzefira and other Hebrew books. There was one person who had to come every day to read to him, but I no longer remember his last name. His father owned a brick builing on the corner of Vashlikover Street and Karshul [Khor-shul?] Alley that housed a hotel. I believe it was called the “Varshavski Gostinitsa” [Hotel Warsaw].

I can confirm that Gotlober was a devout Jew in his old age. I saw him pray in the afternoon and evening. On Shabbat evenings, after evening prayers, he performed the “havdalah” [ceremony, which marks the end of Shabbat], and then smoked a cigarette because he did not smoke on Shabbat.

He used to go to R' Eliezer Halbershtam to read German newspapers and books. Halbershtam lived across from him on Vashlikover Street, next to the river and opposite the Vashlikover Bes-Hamedresh.

Halbershtam was also blind in his old age. However, there was a German woman employed to read books and newspapers to him and take him for walks every day. Gotlober used to visit and spend time with him. Halbershtam had been his good friend since youth. Halbershtam was also a poet. He was the son-in-law of R' Yitskhok Zabludovski.

Everyone in Bialystok knew who Yitskhok Zabludovski was. He was called R' Itsele the “Gvir” [wealthy man]. Zabludovski brought Zamenhof to Bialystok to teach his children. Zamenhof taught them German and French. However, I no longer remember where Zamenhof was from originally. I know that he taught his entire family, including his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

My father's sister, who was from Rozhenoy [Ruzhany], married R' Khayim Pins, may he rest in peace. He was supposed to study with Zamenhof. And when the couple traveled to Rozhenoy to “esn kest” [so the bride's parents would support them during the groom's studies]^[3], Zamenhof traveled with them so he could teach Khayim there. At the same time, he began teaching the Rozhenoy Talmud students at the “Pin's Yeshivah” in Rozhenoy.

The big question among the Talmud students was whether Zamenhof prayed every day. They agreed to ask him about the psalm verse^[4] recited before finishing the “Shmone-Esre” [Eighteen Benedictions] prayer.

I don't know if they asked him or not.

Later, Zamenhof returned to Bialystok and then traveled to Warsaw. There, he taught German and French at a Russian high school. He also worked as a censor of Hebrew and Yiddish books in Warsaw.

I spent some time in Warsaw for the first time at the end of the 1880s. I stayed with the Levin-Epshteyns. I was still a young lad at the time, and the Levin-Epshteyns were my cousins on my mother's side. They had a shop selling religious books in Warsaw. When they had something to be censored, they sent it to Zamenhof.

I wanted to meet Zamenhof, so I asked the Levin-Epshteyns to send me to him with a book that needed censoring. The censorship was on Medave Street. So I went there. I entered the censor's [Zamenhof's] office and handed him the book.

As I was leaving, I told him that I was from Bialystok. He asked about my family, and I replied: Blokh. He asked, “Which Blokh?” I replied, “Fayve Blokh's son.” He asked, “Fayve Malka-Reyzel's?” I said yes.

Then he told me that my father, may he rest in peace, had studied with him, as had my older sister and brother.

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I spent some time with him. To pick up the censored book, I set off again and spent some more time with him.

Every day he wore a tailored black suit coat, buttoned on both sides, and a top hat. He had two sons: one was a pharmacist and the other an ophthalmologist. His children were born in Bialystok on Yatke Street, which is why Yatke Street was renamed “Zamenhof Street.”

I think it was 1859 when R' Lipele arrived in Bialystok. Shortly after, certain circumstances led to him making enemies who denounced him for collecting money for Erets Yisroel, resulting in his imprisonment. He was detained in Grodno for eight days. My sister was with him when the “kvartalnik” [police officer responsible for a neighborhood] arrived. She told me that the “kvartalnik” came into the house and said, “Davay nazhnitsi!”–Give me a pair of scissors! He shaved off R' Lipele's sidelocks and took him to Grodno.

After five days, he was released. He was told that the three men who had denounced him were severely punished. One man had both legs run over by a tram in Petersburg; one man choked on a piece of cheese; and the third man's factory burned down and was not insured.

At that time, there were two Jewish military doctors in Bialystok: One, Zilberberg, held the rank of general. He was also the “oyeuzdne vratsh” (district medical officer), but he was imprisoned as well.

The other was Dr. Lev, a hunchbacked man and a great chess player. He held the rank of “polkovnik” [colonel] and was a very orderly person. However, he made a mistake before he died… Five minutes before dying, he converted to Christianity. That is, his wife had him baptized so that she could continue to receive his government salary after his death.

He was a relative of Bernshteyn [by marriage], who wrote German scientific works. This occurred in 5635 (1874-1875). His wife and daughter remained Jewish.

Since R' Lipele was in poor health, he would go to a “datshe” [vacation home] in the summer. At that time, people did not yet go to the forest^[5]. He went to a “datshe” in Vyetrak or Bialystok. Once, he went to Vyetrak, near the “Polyeser [Poliesa] railway”. However, the railway did not exist at that time.

Of course, he had a minyan to pray with at his “datshe.”

Many people came to him on Shabbat for the “minkhe” (afternoon prayer). I also came with my parents, may they rest in peace, quite often. He was my mother's cousin. His children would come too, of course.

R' Khayim Herz visited him with his family. He brought his son, R' Yisroel (Israel), with him. Israel Halpern was his eldest son and had an office on Vashlikover Street in Bialystok.

He was a few years older than me, but we were friends. Next to the “datshe” was a swing, and we would swing on it together. One day, a Jew from the city arrived. He approached us and said that we weren't allowed to swing on Shabbat. We decided to go ask the rabbi.

So we went to R' Lipele and asked him:

“Zeyde [Grandfather], is it okay to swing on Shabbat?”

He replied that you don't have to swing. Israel asked him again:

“Zeyde, is it okay to swing on Shabbat?”

He replied again that you don't have to swing.

He asked again: “Zeyde, so you're not allowed to swing on Shabbat?”

He replied again:

“You don't have to swing.”

We both asked him again whether one was not allowed to swing on Shabbat.

And he replied once more that one did not have to swing.

Then Israel said to him:

“Zeyde, but is it allowed to swing on Shabbat?”

R' Lipele stroked his cheek and said:

“You will learn that in time!”

He had always answered him that one doesn't have to swing, not that one isn't allowed to.

Israel Halpern reminded me of this back in the 1930s, when he returned from Russia after World War I.

The Ohel of the Rabbi and Gaon R' Lipele in the old Jewish cemetery

Volkovski was the “supreme leader of the city” and was therefore also present at the meeting. Before R' Lipele's departure, he asked him:

[Page 23]

“Rabbi, give me one of your cigars.”

R' Lipele used to smoke cigars. R' Lipele gave him his cigar box so that he could take one. Later, when they [the leaders] left and R' Lipele opened his box, he saw 100 rubles lying inside. He knew it was Volkovski who had put them there. He felt disappointed and also lost, because he didn't know how to deal with it.

For over a year, he no longer held meetings before his departures and no longer provided information about all the affairs of the city.

Volkovski had employed an accountant named Bavli. This Bavli was a Jewish scholar and was close to R' Lipele. During the entire time that R' Lipele was away, Volkovski used to reproach him:

“Your R' Lipele has left town and has not passed on any information at all. He has abandoned the town.”

R' Bavli ran around in confusion, not understanding what was happening. He could hardly wait for R' Lipele to return from Cranz. As soon as R' Lipele arrived back, Bavli went straight to him to ask:

“Rabbi, why did you leave and abandon the city? Volkovski says that no one knew what to do in the city.

R' Lipele replied,

“Tell Volkovski that I am not for sale!”

In R' Lipele's time, there was no “vadaprovod” [water pipe] in Bialystok. Water was transported in barrels or carried into houses using “shelkes” [leather shoulder carriers]. The wells were located in Pyaskes. In later years, Bake dug wells on Yuravetske Street and sold water to the carriers.

Once, on the first day of Passover, a Jewish water carrier came to R' Lipele and pointed out that he had found a piece of bread in the water. This meant that all the cooking utensils had to be declared forbidden wherever the Jew had carried the water.

This was a great loss, and the rabbi was very upset. However, he came up with an idea to make the cookware kosher again.

He summoned two wealthy moneylenders and told them about the water carrier, who was a poor Jew. His horse had fallen, and perhaps one of them would be willing to lend him money so that he could buy another horse.

But they said no! They would not trust him.

R' Lipele then said:

“Well, if that's the case, then I don't trust him either!” And so he declared the cookware “kosher.”

Dr. Zilberberg was friends with R' Lipele. Apart from being his family doctor, Dr. Zilberberg used to visit R' Lipele and spend time with him. One day, Dr. Zilberberg was sitting with R' Lipele in the living room when a Jewish woman came in with a question [about a chicken]. R' Lipele replied that the chicken was kosher. However, it would be better not to eat it.

The doctor asked why. R' Lipele replied that, although the chicken was healthy, someone with lung disease had lived in the house where the chicken had previously been. The sick person had coughed, and the chicken may have drunk the cough. Poultry have a habit of doing this, so it would be better not to eat the chicken.

The doctor examined the chicken but could not find anything wrong with it. He asked the rabbi for the chicken and sent it to Petersburg for laboratory examination. After a while, the results came back, confirming what R' Lipele had said.

Once, in the time of R' Lipele, prices had risen, and so he gave permission to prepare peas with beans for Passover. One Passover Friday, a Jewish woman approached R' Lipele, holding a pot in her hand and shouting:

“No one wants to take my cholent [to keep warm] because I have peas in my cholent.”

I must note that R' Lipele used to eat specially prepared matzo bread, and therefore he put his cholent in his own oven so that it would not be mixed up with others.

He brought the Jewish woman with the cholent into his kitchen and told his cooking lady to accept her cholent and put it in the oven next to his.

At the same time, he instructed her to accept any cholent brought to her by anyone without asking questions.

My father, may he rest in peace, died on 27 Tevet 5639, and R' Lipele died on 6 Shevat 5639, nine days later. My father was 47 years old and R' Lipele was 63. In the same year [5639/1879], Dr. Zilberberg fell ill at the end of the summer. He was already old. When he realized he was dying, he was afraid his wife would have him baptized, just as Dr. Lev's wife had her husband baptized before his death so that she could continue to receive his salary afterwards.

And since R' Lipele was already deceased, Dr. Zilberberg called HaRav Khayim Herz and asked him to send someone to sit by his bedside until his death, so his wife could not have him baptized.

R' Khayim Herz had it done, and so Dr. Zilberberg died as a Jew and received a Jewish burial. He had three daughters and two sons. Dr. Zilberberg had his own “britshke” [horse-drawn carriage with two wheels], in which he drove to visit his patients. Of course, he also had a coachman.

Once, on Shabbat, when his two sons had come from Petersburg for the summer holidays, they ordered the coachman to harness the “britshke” so they could go for a ride.

When he [Dr. Zilberberg] saw that the coachman was harnessing the “britshke,” he went out and asked him who he was doing this for. The coachman replied that his sons had ordered him to do so because they wanted to go for a drive.

He [Dr. Zilberberg] instructed him to unhitch the horses again and told his children that they would have other opportunities to go for a drive on Shabbat: “Once you become doctors, you will be able to go for a drive on Shabbat! But I don't like you driving in Bialystok on Shabbat.”

On Yom Kippur, he would go to the “Khor-Shul” very early in the morning to pray, and he would sit there all day until after the evening prayers. He said it was good for a person to fast once a year. The stomach needs to rest occasionally, too.

Translator's notes:

1. Contents in [ ] are from the translator. Contents in ( ) are from the author. Return
2. Stylistically, Blokh's chapter differs from many other contributions in this book. In addition to short sentences and repeated words, many references to people are unclear, and the content is only hinted at. I have therefore sometimes translated more freely. Return
3. “Esn kest” = a Jewish tradition in which the groom is supported by the bride's parents during his [Torah] studies, usually by living with them and receiving food. Return
4. Psalm 19, 15 [“Let the words of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart find favor in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer”]. Return
5. In her biography, To the Great World, Chayele Grober describes the trend of vacationing in nearby pine forests in later years–for example, near the town of Milejczyce–and renting hammocks under old trees there. Return
6. I assume that this refers to the “kehile.” Return

[Page 32]

I was born in Bialystok, the “Little Crown” of Lithuania, as Vilnius was considered the “Bigger Crown.”

At the end of the 1870s, when my life started, Bialystok was split into two different parts:

The city center. On Aleksandrovski, Nikolayevski, and Lipove Streets lived the “chosen ones,” the intelligentsia.

Surrounding them on Gumyaner Street as well as on Pyaskes and Yatke Streets lived the common people–the true Jewish Bialystok.

The intelligentsia spoke German because the German border was close- and Russian because the Russian “tshinovnik” [official in Tsarist Russia] was even closer.

In addition, they employed maids, nannies, and wet nurses who spoke Polish in their homes.

The common people spoke Yiddish and knew some Hebrew – not much, but more than the intelligentsia.

Behind the town stretched a forest called “Zverinets.” And further behind that was the “Sosnover” [Pine Tree] Forest. When the wind blew or a storm broke out, the forests spoke in their universal language, which is the same all over the world.

Bialystok is old. A five-hundred-year-old sky arches over the city and its forests. History had enough time and space to run wild: here it spoke Lithuanian, there Polish, thereafter “malorasish” [“Little Russian”, Ukrainian].

But in any language and in any era, the grandfathers and great-grandfathers of the Jews, who in my time were the inhabitants of the “Yatkes” and “Pyaskes,” were persecuted and hunted.

How beautiful was the “Zverinets” Forest, the mysterious friend of my youth. It spoke to me through the language of its trees and the chirping of its birds. It greeted me with its lush greenery, with the colors and brightness of its modest flowers and with the bright blue sky that looked down on me through the branches of its hundred-year-old trees.

The “Zverinets” Forest was beautiful later, too, during the time of the forbidden “mayontkes,” when we high school students celebrated May Day together with the factory workers and the weavers from Navik, Beker, and Brunik's wool factories.

But back then, in the time of Hetman^[2] Branitski [Branicki], things were different. The “panes” [lords] ruled over Bialystok, bringing terror and misfortune to the Jews. As its name suggests, the “Zverinets” forest was full of wild animals (“zver” means “animal” in Russian).

And so the “panes” went hunting there, shooting bears, wolves, foxes, and “zubres” [bison], a species of animal similar to American buffalo.

On the “pond” that once stood in the middle of the city, the “panes” sailed around in small boats, singing and courting women, and setting off fireworks for fun. For fun, the “panes” also set fire to Jewish houses and huts.

Our great-great-grandparents were often forced to hide in the forests. In fact, they hid in the same “Zverinets,” becoming like the wild animals being hunted there, like foxes and “zubres.”

Therefore, if one listened closely to the “green language” spoken by the forests around Bialystok, one could hear a distant, almost vanished moans–Jewish lamentations, a distant, stifled cry. These are echoes of vanished prayers, the reverberation of a heart-rending “Sh'ma Yisroel” [the Jewish Creed], uttered from the soul in a moment of despair.

The old Lithuanian and Polish forests carry the scent of Jewish blood.

The old days are gone. All that remains of Hetman Branicki, the former ruler of Bialystok, is his beautiful palace, which was built with the help of Jewish hands.

[Page 33]

The palace was transformed into an institute where Christian girls from “better” families were educated, an “Institut dlya blagarandnikh devits” [educational institution in Tsarist Russia specifically for better-off or noble girls].

The hetmans and lords had disappeared, as if they had never existed. But the Jews remained. Step by step, stone by stone, they rebuilt Bialystok…

This is how my mother city grew - the “Little Crown” of Lithuania - the place where I opened my curious eyes.

According to the folk saying, a child born on their parents' wedding anniversary is a lucky child. My birthday is on February 4, which is exactly the day my parents got married.

It little matters what popular wisdom says!

And yet, I was always lucky. I came close to death more than once and was miraculously saved each time.

I was shot at four times from a distance of three steps. The man aimed for my head. The bullet flew past my ear. Another bullet was aimed at my heart. The shooter aimed well, but hit a small piece of metal on my suspenders that served as a kind of armor plate.

During a fire in Petersburg, I rolled down from a high roof. I fell into a soft sleigh, rolled out of it into a pile of snow, and - burst out laughing.

I lay on the street twice after being badly wounded by cars–once in Berlin and once in London.

After more than 26 years, a cruel, almost incurable disease–asthma–finally left me.

I was also exceptionally fortunate to make good friends among the noblest people in the world. They were Jews and Christians, men and women.

The little street where I was born had no official name; it was simply a side street, a “pereulok” [alley]. In Bialystok, there were many such nameless alleys, because everyone knew where they had to go anyway.

However, our alley did have a nickname. It was called “Shneur Gutman's Gesele.” This was because Shneur Gutman owned a house with a yard and a garden there. And it was actually in Gutman's house that I shouted triumphantly for the first time:

“Jews of Bialystok, I am here!”

That is to say, I may have wanted to shout exactly that. In reality, however, it was certainly the usual crying of a newborn baby–who immediately regretted coming into the world.

Gutman's Alley was close to the city center. One end looked toward Yatke Street, and the other looked toward Nikolayevske Street, also called Vasilkover Street. Yatke Street was home to simple, modest Jews, craftsmen, and small storekeepers – just poor people, “the people,” the real Bialystok.

On Nikolayevske Street lived the intelligentsia, the more or less educated class. People spoke Russian and German there, and sometimes–though very rarely–French.

The rich shops, both Jewish and non-Jewish, were located there and further around Nikolayevske Street. Among them were Vilbushevitsh's pharmacy, Muravyov's warehouse, and the Club (“Blagoradnye Sobranye”) [an assembly of high-ranking personalities].

The doctors lived there too. There was Doctor Bomash, who unfortunately limped, and Doctor Chazanowicz, the Jewish dreamer – the man who was a Zionist even before Zionism became a movement.

One could say that Gutman's Alley lay between two worlds. On one side was the familiar, Yiddish-speaking Bialystok. On the other were the “enlightened ones.” There was the European city, called “Byelostok” in Russian. Our alley divided but also connected the two worlds.

I was actually born between Bialystok and Byelostok. It was a coincidence, of course, but this circumstance had an influence and was reflected in my nature and life. I was part of the healthy, solid core of Yatke Street, imbued with its old Jewish traditions. At the same time, I was drawn to “Nikolayevskaya Ulitsa” to taste a bit of a secular education and learn Russian, German, and French. In short, I wanted to see, hear, know, and learn; I wanted to escape the narrow confines of home and venture out into the wide, strange world.

This was not just my personal journey. I was no exception. I experienced the same things that many young people of my generation experienced and went through. I wasn't anything special. The wind of that time carried me on its wings. But…

But that was only the first half of my turbulent life. The second half was the way back: from Russia and civilized Europe with all its glamour–often false and disappointing glamour–back home to Jewish Bialystok, to the simple ground beneath my feet, to the ancient Jewish life - that seems ever more youthful the further away you are from it.

I found it again and again, not only on Bialystoker Yatke Street, but also in Vienna–on the former Tabor Street, in Berlin–on the Jewish Oranienbaum [Oranienburger] Street, on the East Side streets in New York, in London's Whitechapel and Golders Green: Wherever I went, I kept finding Shneur Gutman's Alley, “where my cradle stood.”

I walked down the little alley twice–there and back. And although the alley was very short, it took me almost sixty years, and I'm still not done. I'm still walking…

Translator's notes:

1. Contents in [ ] are from the translator. Contents in ( ) are from the author Return
2. Hetman= very high-ranking military commander or army commander in ancient Poland and Lithuania Return

[Page 34]

Yeshiva students with their teachers in 1939 before World War II

The following bote-medroshim surrounded it on all sides:

The Old Bes-Medresh,
the New Bes-Medresh,
Yekhiel-Nekhe's Bes-Medresh,
the Gvir's [wealthy man's] Bes-Medresh (the Bes-Medresh of Itshe Zabludovski),
Tzelal Oge's Bes-Medresh,
Mendl Grave's [Grawe's] Bes-Medresh,
Tiperman's Bes-Medresh,
Kopl Heylpern's Bes-Medresh,
Shmuel Bulkovshteyn's Bes-Medresh,
Bes-Medresh Gmiles-Khsodim,
Pulkover Bes-Medresh,
Bes-Medresh Novolipye,
the (New) Green Bes-Medresh,
Puzhe's Bes-Medresh,
Volkoviski's Bes-Medresh,
Dovid Deykhes Bes-Medresh,
Bishke Zabludovski's Bes-Medresh.

Since 1800, the bote-medroshim of the synagogue courtyard quarters were:

the Bes-Medresh Khevre-Shas [Chevra-Shas],
Bes-Medresh Oyrekh-Khayim,
Bes-Medresh Khaye-Odem.

The bote-medroshim in the region of the synagogue courtyard in a southerly direction were:

Sender's Bes-Medresh,
Bes-Medresh Toyres-Khesed,
Krokhmalnik's Bes-Medresh,
Bes-Medresh Lomdei Shas,
Ofitsirker [Officers'] Bes-Medresh.

The bote-medroshim in the Surazer [Suraska] region were:

Moyshe Meylekh's Bes-Medresh,
Shusterisher [Cobblers'] Bes-Medresh,
Bes-Medresh Toyres-Khayim.

The bote-medroshim in the Pyaskov [Pyaskes] area were:

the Brick Bes-Medresh,
the Wooden Bes-Medresh,
Argentinian Bes-Medresh,
Khevre-Tehilim Bes-Medresh,
Bialostotski's Bes-Medresh.

The bote-medroshim in the Khanayker [Chanayki] area were:

the Great Khaneyker Bes-Medresh,
Libe Rakhel's Bes-Medresh,
Bekersher [Baker's] Bes-Medresh,
Bes-Medresh Tehilim,
Eli Meylekh's Bes-Medresh.

Among the new bote-medroshim were:

the Nayvelt Bes-Medresh,
Bes-Medresh Mishmer,
Naymark's Bes-Medresh,
Batser's Bes-Medresh,
Katsovisher [Butchers'] Bes-Medresh,
Bes-Medresh Bes-Shmuel,
Bes-Medresh Takhkemoyne [Tachkemoni],
Bes-Medresh Mashkones-Yakev.

The following bote-medroshim were at the Jewish philanthropic institutions:

Bes-Medresh Lines-Khoylim on Zamenhof-Street,
Bes-Medresh Lines-Hatsedek [Linas-Hatzedek] on Rozhaner Street,
Bes-Medresh Moyshev-Skeynim on Kupyetska Street,
and Bes-Medresh Hekdesh.

The following Chassidic “shtiblekh” existed:

Bes-Medresh Khside-Kotsk on Tshemne-Street,
Bes-Medresh Khside-Ger on Surazer Street, and
Bes-Medresh Khside-Slonim on Zalevni Street.

In addition, there were dozens of minyonim in Bialystok where Jews prayed in small groups. Among them were some special minyonim that considered themselves bote-medroshim. These were:

Bes-Medresh HaRav R'Khayim Herts [Chaim Herz] in the synagogue courtyard,
Novik's Bes-Medresh on Mitskevitsha,
Kopl Zalkind's Bes-Medresh on Bialiostotshanske, and
Shvarts's Bes-Medresh on Polne Street.

The “Khor-Shul” played an important role in the lives of the Jews of Bialystok. First there was the old one, [built] over a hundred years ago, and later

the New Khor-Shul on Lipove [Pilsudski] Street.

There were also all kinds of small and private minyonim in various locations in Bialystok. In total, there were the following:

א) Agude Akhim (Nayvelt),
ב) Minyen Igle (Sosnove)
ג) Minyen Izvoztshikes [Carriage Drivers'] Ma'agalei Tsedek, two minyonim- on Odeski and Kiever Street
ד) Bunim's Minyen (Sosnove),
ה) Brisker Beker [Bakers] (Yurovtser, 21),^[2]
ו) Minyen Botanitshni (Botanitshni Street),
ז) Bes-Yakev (Tshemne Street),
ח) Bes-Yisroel (Zhelazni, 262),
ט) Minyen Byaler (Sobyeski, 14),
י) Minyen Gutman (Senkevitsha),
יא) Berl Grosman (Mark-Street) [market],
יב) Darotinski (Yuravtser, 13),
יג) Malka Vaynshel [or Vaynshal] (Polne Street),
יד) Minyen Zabar ( Skorup),
טו) Khaye Odem Mishnayes (Stolarski, 7),
טז) Minyen Kheyn-Tov [Chen-Tov] Spinman (Yidn-Street),
יז) Khevre-Toyre [Chevra-Torah] (Mlinove, 12),
יח) Minyen Lyubovski (Krashesteg [Krashe Way], 14),
יט) Zaviker (Mlinover, 7),
כ) Minyen Sokol (Skorup),
כא) Furman's Maged (Pyenki, 4),
כב) Minyen Pat (Senkevitsha, 52),
כג) Minyen Krupitski (Kilinski, 25),
כד) Kantarovski (Sukha, 23),
כה) Shomrim-Laboker (Royfe'ishe [Healers'] or Dr. Chazanowicz- Alley),
כו) Fayerlesher [Firefighters'] Minyen (at the home of Boyarski),
כז) Soldatsker [Soldiers'] Minyen (Yeshiva-Street).

The minyonim of the Chassidic “shtiblekh”:

כח) Kobriner Shtibl (at the home of HaRav R' Mair Shlakhetski),
כט) Radziner (Angers Street),
ל) Karliner (Yeshiva-Street),
לא) Tshekhanover (Kupitski, 19)
לב) Trisker (Glukha, 7),
לג) Minsk Khadash.

All these places sacred to Jews, where generations of Jews prayed to the Almighty and which were so dear to the Jews of Białystok, were wiped out and destroyed by the Nazi murderers during the cruel Second World War.

Given the large number of shuln, bote-medroshim, and minyonim mentioned above, it is evident that the Jews of Bialystok have always maintained spiritual connections to Jewish religious values while leading Jewish-national and secular lives.

Translator's notes:

1. Contents in [ ] are from the translator, contents in ( ) are from the author. Return
2. The names and numbers in ( ) refer to street names and house numbers. Return

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