Hello America!

A few years after the war ended the United States continued to send clothing, food, and cars to Russia. Guys my age roamed the streets of Gomel and sang, “Columbus discovered America as an entirely foreign country, it would have been much better if he opened a pub in our street.” Who wrote this song I do not know, but whoever did was not stupid. He had seen the future. But I saw it in reality. The plane on which we flew to America, had a real bar: brandy, vodka, scotch, whiskey, wine in small bottles, and all for free. The flight attendants urged us to drink all we wanted, and even to please take more. I accumulated twenty-five bottles on this trip. Imagine if we saw this guy, we would have carried him in our arms. By the way, the Jew, Abraham Zacuto, who was fleeing from the Spanish Inquisition, prepared the map for the expedition of Christopher Columbus. In September 1979, we arrived on a direct flight from Rome to America. The plane landed at the J.F.Kennedy airport. We were met by representatives of NYANA, the Jewish organization that provided resettlement assistance to Soviet Jewish immigrants in the New York area.

It's hard to describe what we saw: a huge airport, so many people, sparkling lights, different colors, etc. We held on to each other. My landing in New York ended the second evacuation in my life as a Jew. The first time was the start of World War II. That was a terrible period of time, living with the constant roar of aircraft and bombings, running and hiding. My second evacuation, hoping that it would be the last, was punctuated with the sadness of parting with family and the accomplishments in my life at that point that connected me to a home. In the eyes of those who remained, I was a traitor. This was a difficult period of time for me.

Buses provided by NYANA transported 300 people to hotels. My family, and several others, lived in a hotel located right in the heart of New York, in Manhattan. In the morning, the first thing that surprised me was that the owner of the hotel, a millionaire, helped to clean and distribute bedding. This gave me a very different view of America. Later, I was surprised to see and hear noisy sanitation trucks, howling sirens, beeping fire trucks and ambulances in the streets. “Oh my God! How can people live in such turmoil?”

We arrived In America during the middle of the celebration of the fall Jewish holidays. NYANA sent me, my wife, and our two children to the family doctor. This doctor also had two children. He kindly invited us to his home to celebrate Rosh Hashanah with his family. For the first time we saw the ritual of lighting the candles. The doctor's wife waved her hands over the candles and said a prayer. Then the doctor said a prayer.

They said something, and we repeated it because I know a couple of words in Yiddish. We often communicated with our hands, ate dinner, and thanked them. We were satisfied, even happy. A few days later we traveled by subway to the NYANA office to fill out documents and to find out about our apartment. There were bums in the subway cars who lay around the dirty cars. We chose a good bench and sat down. I was just scared, so I hugged my children. I looked around, and it seemed to me that I had become small and helpless. If suddenly I was attacked, who would defend me? The people at NYANA were very friendly. They helped us complete our documents, they were able to speak to us in Yiddish, and they made an appointment to take us to see an apartment. NYANA took us by bus with many other emigrants to the Brighton Beach area in Brooklyn. It is hard to imagine what Brighton was like back then in 1979. In the next ten years so many immigrants settled there, mostly from Odessa. Imagine clean streets without rubbish containers and cigarette butts, boxes, papers and other garbage strewn on all the sidewalks and roads.How much did people spend on the tons of spray paint used to paint the windows, doors, walls and subway cars. Later, we got used to everything, and even learned to believe that the American system is not so bad. America, the land of freedom. Any comment or regret was answered with, “it's a free country!” There were almost no penalties or fines. In schools and colleges students were able to freely express their thoughts and ask any questions. When I was in class in college with my son, I was struck by the freedom students experienced.

While we lived in a hotel, NYANA offered to bring us to a synagogue in Manhattan. We were delighted to enter the huge room lit by chandeliers, decorated with paintings, hearing the singing and praying of hundreds of voices, and observing the men in white shawls with stripes and caps on their heads. I was fifty years old, and this was the first time in my life I was in a synagogue. I did not understand what was going on. I saw people holding a book in their hands, singing, and swaying back and forth.

We were there with several other NYANA families. When we went outside I asked, “are all of those people Jews? There had to be at least 1,000 people in there.” Someone replied, “Well , of course they were all Jews.” “And where are the police?” I continued. “Is it possible to allow so many people with other ideas and other clothes to congregate together?”

It took me a long time to cast away the old thoughts. In the Soviet Union we also went to meetings. But there we discussed real issues and problems, plan implementations, ministry orders, punishments, promotions, behavior, etc. And here it is so simple that no one will be punished for praying? No ministry will call us in? It was only several years later that I realized that Jewish scientists, philosophers, writers, engineers and the rest of the Jewish people attend synagogue. Already in the next and subsequent years, my wife and I participated in the annual festivals, parades, and rallies which took place in May in New York, in Manhattan, sponsored by American-Jewish organizations. I carried a portrait of Sharansky. People carried placards with inscriptions, “Let my people go.”

During these rallies, we found leaflets and copies of newspapers in Russian, that propagandized Moscow's spending billions of rubles for the construction of Russian cultural centers and friendship houses. Russian-speaking offices and publishers were defending Russia's interests, turning the attention of former Russian citizens to Russian culture, not American or Jewish, but only twenty-six people returned to Russia.

After the rallies I read these leaflets to friends and neighbors. We discussed their content and were indignant, reaching out to us here, where we lived in freedom.

I later learned that Jews also expressed the words, “Let my people go” 3000 years ago, when coming out of slavery from Egypt. I wondered, who did they ask for this freedom? I asked about this when I went to the synagogue.

In America, immigrants often became taxi drivers. It was incredibly difficult. We didn't know English and we could not read the signs. I wanted to use the toilet, but where? New York is a big city, and I did not know the roads. I worked as a taxi driver for just a few weeks. It was very difficult, and I didn't want someone I knew in Russia to recognize me and write home about me. What would people say?

There was a job that required a loader in a vegetable shop. I called the store. They told me to come. I went by train, but when they saw me they said they already hired a man. I asked for a dollar for the subway fare but they laughed. I went to auto repair shops, but I didn't understand their questions. Then, one evening, I met Semyon, a guy from Minsk, in my English course. With tears in my eyes, I told him about my situation. It turned out, he was a professional turner. He worked for twenty years at the Minsk Tractor Plant, and was already working here in Queens at the factory as a turner. I told him about my specialty, and he told me to come to the plant where he worked, as they manufactured parts for Sikorsky helicopters. I was happy and scared. I knew zero English, had no employment record or diploma with me. I had sent my diplomas to Israel. As a mechanical engineer, I knew theoretically how to engineer machines, but I worked in millimeters, and here they used inches. But I knew I can repair cars and motorcycles.

I went to the plant manager, Mr. Tony, who was Italian. I looked at him, he looked at me. He did not ask for a document. He brought me over to the drilling machine and communicated with his hands to say, “Show me where the holes are in the drawing.” I knew this very well. My college teacher, Mr. Smirnov, was very strict and demanding. I showed Mr. Tony the correct spot. He looked at me, smiled, and said something, but I didn't understand.I found Semion in the shop, told him everything and said, “The chief told me something like “Saturday,” and left. What does that mean? He didn't ask for documents, he didn't give me a questionnaire, and didn't ask about who I was.” Sema laughed, and said, “It's not your Soviet Union. Come to work tomorrow. He also asked if you could work on Saturdays, because some of the Jews do not work Saturdays.”

Oh my God! I remembered at the Minsk military factory number 32, I had to provide documents and answer the questionnaire about my family all the way back to where my grandfather worked. My friend, with whom I went to college and then at the Institute, Grishchenko, worked at the plant and wanted to bring me in. Then he became the secretary of the party organization of the plant. A few years later, when I lived in America he divorced his wife. At the trial, she said that his friend, Nicholas Spevak, a Jew, left for Israel, and for that he received a severe reprimand. Grishchenko told me this in 1988.

The day before leaving for work I went with a neighbor to see what bus to take and where it stopped. We could not find a bus stop. There were no signs, numbers, or timetables. We asked people who told us the correct bus number, but no one knew when it was supposed to come. Generally, in the morning I arrived half an hour early at the bus stop where another man was already waiting. The bus stopped, and I safely got to work. The next day I came to the stop at the same time, but I was alone. I waited, but the bus did not stop and just passed me by. I was confused. What should I do? I didn't want to get fired from my job. I almost cried. I tried to stop passing cars, but that didn't work. I was half an hour late, but I was not fired. I was told, you are not in Minsk. I learned that you have to raise a hand so the driver knows to stop, and have some change in your pocket.

I thought that after the first and second pay one has to go to the foreman, show him the first check and take him for a drink. His name was Michael. I had to gesticulate for a long time until he understood what I wanted. He laughed and said “I've got a wife and two children. Got to get home.” And he left. I couldn't understand it. How could you refuse a shot or two?

Many Russian immigrants with school-aged children settled in the area of Woodhaven Boulevard, and some of these children were friends with my son Boris. Among them were Anatol Feigin from Riga, Sasha Azbel from Leningrad, Idelchik Dima from Minsk and others. The parents wanted the children to attend a yeshiva, a Jewish school, but it turned out it was too expensive, and so they all went to public school. My son and his friends did very well and received scholarships to college. My son enrolled in Stony Brook University. At his graduation ceremony from Forest Hills High School, Boris thanked us for bringing him to America. Our daughter, Zina, was also in college.

Boris, the author's son at graduation from high school

I worked for 10 hours a day at the factory, and under constant fear that I would break the drill, stop the machine and mix the inch measurement system with metric. I understood drawings and sketches, visually, but not anything written in English. There was a heavy air of oil in the workshop from the drills and cutting tools. We ate dinner at the machines. We brought food from home, or were provided with rolls, sausages and cheese. Because my English was still at level zero, there were some funny incidents due to my lack of understanding. One day, the manager asked me to bring him shipping details. I knew from the dictionary that a ship is on the water. I thought that the ocean was not nearby. I looked out of the window. The other guys were following me, and they laughed at me. But this is America. At any moment, the evening foreman can tell you: “Tomorrow, do not come to work,” and hand you your last check.

In general, the work was very hard. Some days I barely got home. If someone I knew from Minsk could see me after work, they would not recognize me. I was a manager there, and here, I stand at the machine and work physically. But, I swear, not for one second was I sorry that I came here with my family. I do not care about my physical fatigue. I had everything in Russia, a car, an apartment, a garage and more. I have no more moral fatigue, as now I am spared constant humiliation of slavery in front of Belarusians who believe that I live in their land. That is what oppressed me. I heard only one positive word about Jews throughout my life, and this occurred one day after elections in the Writers' Union. After work I was going to meet my friend, Volodya, near the Government House. Volodya worked at the Polytechnic Institute at the Department of Architecture. I visited him from time to time. There were nice artist's models. He said: “Listen, Kolya, today after the meeting we are going to mark the election. Come with me. Don't worry. Everything will be OK. We'll meet at the appointed place. We went into the literary house on Gorky Street. There were tables covered with drinks and snacks in the great hall. Everyone sat down, filled the glasses and toasts began. When everyone was tipsy, one person stood up and made a toast, saying, “I propose a toast to the Jews. We need them to kiss their ass.” Everyone froze and looked around at each other. Then they all clinked their glasses. Discussions continued as if nothing had happened. I swear to God that this is the literal truth. At about 2-3 PM, the party broke up. I walked with Volodya to his house. He said nothing about the toast, and I did not mention it. We spoke about some of the artists and writers and said goodbye. Here in Queens, at the plant, I remember a similar interesting story. The owner of the factory was a 92 year old Italian man. He owned a yacht with a captain and staff. His new wife ordered him to sell the yacht. His son, Robert, worked at the plant for many years as the chief engineer. At the time, he was 63 years old. His father sold the boat, fired his son, and hired the captain of the yacht in his son's place. We might not have known anything about this, but the son came into the shop with tears in his eyes and asked us to intercede for him. He said: “I am already 63 years old. Who will hire me?” Of course, we were surprised. For us, it was a miracle. A group of people, mainly the Jews in the plant, persuaded his father not to fire the son. And he canceled the order.

Two years later, convinced of my knowledge, the manager moved me to the position of inspector. It is impossible to describe my feelings. I was so happy my nose even began to bleed.

In the first years of life in America, families gathered to celebrate birthdays, weddings, bar mitzvahs, and other events. There already was a first Russian restaurant. Others came into existence in Brighton Beach, the center of the Jewish-Russian immigrant community in Brooklyn, which is where the majority of people from Odessa, settled. Brighton Beach was a dirty, run-down area and our guys cleaned it up and turned it into a lively area.

We sang songs in the restaurants, and this was part of our cultural life in America. I remember that there was an article in the newspaper, The New Russian Word, about an outstanding, talented Ukrainian-Jewish singer, Emil Gorovets. Once I was lucky to vacation with him at a camp. Only now I learned more about his particular talent. The newspaper wrote that he earned his livelihood, singing in restaurants and synagogues.

At this time there was a big event in my family. My daughter, Zina, was engaged to marry a guy named Volodya, whom she met on the way to America. The wedding took place at a palace wedding hall in Long Island, with a large room, huge chandeliers, and music. In the lobby before entering the room there was a buffet with all sorts of drinks: vodka, scotch, brandy, etc, and snacks. There were sixty people at this wedding, and on my side, no relatives. To find our guests for the wedding, we went door to door, and invited even slightly familiar people.

We stood around, afraid to go to the buffet and ask for a drink. We did not know whether or not we would have to pay for it. Everyone looked at me. I walked resolutely to the manager and asked Elijah, as he knew English, to ask what we should do.

He said, “It's a bar, a smorgasbord. Take all that you see. Drink and eat the snacks as you want.”

Everyone was so happy! Then we all went into the great hall, to the tables with snacks and drinks. We made toasts. Out of all of our guests, only Ilya could say a toast in English for the American guests to understand. The next day, Ilya laughed: “Well, did you understand what I said? I could have called you God knows what, and you would have slapped me.”

We were happy for my daughter. Oh my God! My daughter, who, it seemed to me, I had just recently held in my arms, was now married, and to a country-man. My family grew larger. This is exactly what I wanted. We met together and celebrated Jewish and other holidays. This was a boost to my soul because I grew up in a large family. The young couple rented an apartment not far from us. Vladimir graduated from the Minsk Polytechnic Institute and got a job as a designer. My daughter worked and went to school.

After working for three years at the factory I felt that I was qualified to be an inspector, and I found a job in another place. It was a factory in the Bronx that manufactured parts and assemblies for M-1 and M-2 tanks. The men who worked in the plant came from all over. There were turners, engineers, and computer tech people. These workers included Jura and his brothers Sasha and Misha, Edward, Leon Czerwony from Kiev, and guys from India. There I met and became friends with the deputy director, Sherman Belindzhen, an African American. One day after work, Sherman, Sasha, Misha and I went to an illegal place where there were dancing naked girls. We had fun. Sherman helped me write a letter to President Clinton in which I proposed to increase the number of police officers in the city to prevent and reduce crime. In those years there were very few police officers. I suggested opening a school for professional development including design and technological institutions to help reduce unemployment.

For example, at 6:00 AM in the morning when I went to work, I took the train at 63rd Street. Right in front of me, three boys broke into a small window of a jewelry store and stole boxes of jewelry. I was right next to them and there were other people near me on their way to work. No one made any move to prevent this robbery. I told my wife about this later in the evening and said, “Well, why steal when this country has everything, and almost for free.” Then I learned that the owner of this store did not lose anything. The insurance company paid for all of his losses.

Some Russian guys figured out how to make money by conning the insurance companies. They insured cars, set them on fire, and collected a lot of money. I personally saw cars burning and the fact that no one paid attention to it.

I was sure that President Clinton did not read my letter. But gradually everything was done as I suggested. For that I respect him.

My wife's aunt and her son and two daughters moved to Israel from Vilnius in 1972. Before they left they came to say goodbye. I helped her to buy some things in the shops such as crystal, cameras, Cuban cigars, etc. At that time people were allowed to pack their belongings in large boxes. But in Israel, no one wanted their “wealth.” They suggested that we emigrate to Israel as well, but in a letter, Aunt wrote, “Think carefully where you go, because you will be able to move to Israel at any time, but it could take two years to get from Israel to America.”

We worked hard, saved some money and decided that the first trip we would take out of the United States would be to Israel, to visit our aunt, and to visit the country we left. The plane was luxurious, with very tasty kosher food. Interestingly, we sat next to a couple who were conversing in Chinese. Seated comfortably, I began to speak to my wife in Russian. And suddenly, the woman turned to us and said in perfect Russian: “And you are Russian.” We were so surprised. And the conversation began. The couple was from China but their parents were Jews, born in Russia, and they learned to speak Russian and Yiddish. The interesting conversation made the time fly by quickly, and before we knew it, we landed in Israel. It was the end of August and the heat was unbearable but less humid than New York at the time.

We wanted to learn, hear, and see as much as possible in Israel, and understand who were the “Hawks” that made many afraid to go to this country. My aunt Broniya bought tickets for us for a tour of Rishon Lezion and Jerusalem.

I remember how my mother used to say, next year in Jerusalem, and here we were in Jerusalem! I knew absolutely nothing about this city. There was so much history. A few days later Uncle Yasha took vacation time for a week and we went with them by car to the Dead Sea.

You have to experience the Dead Sea! No pen can describe it! It's a miracle to sit in the water and read a newspaper! On our way back we drove through the desert, close to Bedouins and camels. And when we returned to Jerusalem, Uncle and Aunt told us more about this ancient city. I felt overwhelmed and lost in thought. Here I was from a small town in Belarus, and now, at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. I was filled with pride and joy, and thanks, but to whom? First, my parents, second, fate, and third, God, who saved our people for many centuries. My second trip outside of America was to France. In those days one could only dream of ending up in distant places, and now I was free to do so, and think about what I want. I had read many books about France and so when I walked through the streets of Paris I knew where I was.

We traveled to other countries. I never read a single book about Spain, and had never thought of visiting that country. However now I know that there are so many interesting things to see in Spain, especially those related to Jewish life. Now the Spanish government has apologized to Jews and prepared a law to naturalize Jews whose ancestors were expelled from the country more than five centuries ago.

One day in 1983, when we lived in Queens on Woodhaven Boulevard, we were told that the famous Brooklyn Rabbi Schneerson blesses Jews who go to see him. My wife and I decided that we needed to start building a new life based on Jewish traditions for the future of our children. Now in any case, our son and daughter thank us for taking them out of the Soviet Union, and they live with their children here in America.

There was a line with about a hundred people near a large synagogue in Brooklyn, including our friends, former citizens of Minsk. Misha Fin, Gena Fanya Fried and others came from Albany, where they live permanently. We were in line for more than five hours, but without regret. The memory of the Rebbe's blessing remains with me always. To this day I keep a 2-dollar bill with his portrait which he personally gave to me. This gave my wife and me confidence and hope for the rest of my family, about 50 blood relatives and all of my friends.

We made new friends here with whom we celebrated birthdays and holidays. We moved to a brand new country with a strange language, new customs and laws. At least here, the police do not ask where you work, how you earned money, or why you are out for a walk.

We argued a lot with friends, and sometimes in spite of the dissimilarity of our views, always parted as friends with a happy confidence in our future life and a happy and free life of our children.

In the 10-14 years we have been here my son and his friends went to school, including higher education. The boys, who are still friends to this day, all underwent circumcision. Anatoly Feigin, Idelchik Dima, Sasha Azbel, Mark, all are doing well. Despite the fact that they live in different cities with their families and children, they meet together at least three times a year. They always remember their parents and thank them for leaving the abuse they suffered in the Soviet Union. Here, they are not abused, they are not called names, they are not fired from jobs because they are Jewish. As their parents, we too feel free. We could find a job or open our own business. For example, our neighbor opened a restaurant in New York City and then a shop, and now he owns lucrative businesses. He has a granddaughter, Bianca, who at the age of eleven, is a singer and violinist, whom you can see on Youtube.

I did not know that Jewish songs and music were so deeply entrenched in my mind and soul despite the fact that I spent the bulk of my life speaking Russian, Belarusian and Chuvash. I lived in an orphanage, served in the army, and went to college. The Hebrew language was banned. There weren't any Hebrew books, newspapers, magazines; not a single word in Hebrew anyplace, and of course, the religion was banned. Fifteen percent of the Jews changed their names. I changed my name to Koliya.

At 50, I almost forgot the Hebrew language. One beautiful sunny weekend I was with my family and neighbors at the beach, and there was a group of American Jews who were playing the violin and singing Jewish songs. Something stirred In my soul and woke me up from a long slumber. The Jew in me began to awaken, not only for myself, but my family and thousands of others. Those who arrived in 1979 were among the first from Russia. The Americans on the beach that day said that we were the first Russians they had met. Many of the immigrants continued to speak Russian and listen to music, songs and radio programs in Russian, financed by Moscow to disseminate false information for the Jews longing for their native land. I thought we got away from those who hate us, but there it was. My family made the decision to not forget the Russian language, but to always communicate in English and to learn Hebrew, Jewish songs and so on.

After living in Queens for four years we found out that our friends, Arkady and Maya Grusman, lived in Brooklyn. My wife had worked with Maya in Minsk in a scientific research institute. On the way to our first visit we saw some people dressed in black robes and a big black hat, black socks and shoes. I thought that these people were from Turkey.

We met up with our friends, embraced, and the flow of conversations and memories began. And when we went to their apartment, I said:

- Arkady, could you really not find an apartment in another neighborhood where we live, but instead you are living with the Turks. Look out the window, what kind of people?

He laughed and said:

- What are you, Nick, it's our brothers and sisters. It's the Jews.

I felt such joy. This is freedom. This is a good country. Nobody bothers you or offends you, or harms you mentally or physically as we experienced in Russia. And I told Arcady:

- When I was in the army in the city of Rovno in Ukraine, I argued a bit with the sergeant about the morning rise. The sergeant said to me, “Shut up Jew.” We were walking down the stairs during this exchange. I was one step above him, and with all my anger, I kicked him in the face. I was summoned to the deputy head of the political arm at work. “You hit the sergeant. You will be arrested for that. Where is your father? We'll let him know.”

My angry reply was, “My father died at the front for the homeland, for freedom, not for me to be so cruelly abused.” Fortunately, It all ended well.

My friends and I spoke about the lives of our parents and grandparents and the forces that threw us to the other side of the world away from Belarus, to the United States.

We moved from our Queens, Woodhaven Boulevard home, to a different, much larger, apartment nearby, on 63rd Drive, where I had room for visitors. One friend who visited me there was Arkady Pertsovky, from Minsk. Since he already had his own business, a station for car repairs, he tried to persuade me to buy a taxi medallion. Then it was worth $ 35,000. Now it is worth $ 500,000. But my dream was to buy a house. My daughter had already bought a house in New Jersey and moved there with her two young sons, and I wanted to live near them. We decided to buy a house and a plot of land on a street close to my daughter.

And then I turned to gardening. I grew cucumbers, tomatoes, zucchini, currant bushes and grapes. Now I wonder how I managed to do all this while working in the factory, sometimes taking the grandchildren after school, and even managing to feed them occasionally at McDonald's or Wendy's, particularly my grandson, David. I woke up early in the morning on the weekends to enjoy the beauty around me, breathing in the fresh air and watching the sun rise. I also admired the flower bushes growing right under our windows. There was an 80-year old oak tree and four other large trees in my yard. The gardening was physically difficult for me, but at the same time, I enjoyed harvesting my produce. Some thought that I was a braggart, that I wanted to be a leader, rich and business-like. I was laughed at. But all I really wanted was to show and convince visitors to America that you can achieve everything through effort and hard work. Learn English and move up the ladder of success, and lead your children as well.

It should be noted that these invisible threads of genes were inherited by my eldest grandson, Alan. He graduated from two universities. After completing his Masters degree he taught world history in school. But then suddenly he threw it all away and decided to work in agriculture.

Alan receiving his diploma

Alan on his tractor

Two years ago my wife and I visited Alan to see his successful farming business ahead of the rest of the family who were coming a week later. It was a joy! He is brilliant. While we were there, we helped to clean up, prepare for the rest of the guests, and I helped with mechanical and electrical needs.

My son arrived with his wife and two daughters from Chicago, Galina's nephew with his wife and three children from Canada and his mother from New Jersey, and some friends as well. We feasted on organic, fresh fish, baked potatoes, cooked kebabs, and bread, made on a fire that burned almost until morning. We spent a few days in this spiritual communion. Alan often gives interviews to visiting correspondents who write articles about the benefits of organic produce and he lectures at schools. He is a competent and interesting person with whom to converse. Alan is the only businessman in our big family. When my younger grandson David graduated from college he wanted to become a politician. But as he traveled around the world he decided to become involved in meditation, which I understand to be a kind of mental exercise used in spiritual and religious and recreational practice. David moved to Hawaii to a special school for meditation that people come to visit from all over the world. David is the director of the school.

I wrote the following letter to him not long ago.

My dear and beloved David,

I want you to read this letter and think deeply about the meaning and significance of my words.

Thanks to my parents we are here in this world. They gave us the opportunity to hear and see the universe, meet our wives and husbands, the people with whom to create future generations. We still love you and are grateful for the work you invested in our education and our lives.

David! Understand and remember that you were born not only for yourself. You were born in order to give life to your children. You need to be married, have children and create a close-knit family in which everyone respects and loves each other. Children are the basic importance of human life. Your love for children and their love for you makes life happy and more interesting.

David! Thanks to my parents, my family and I saw huge changes in the world, from horses to cars and aircraft and satellites, and phones to computers. It has been exciting to experience all of this in my lifetime.

So tell me, David, do you thank your parents? David, you are already 30, and the years go by so fast. We love you very much, David. I hope it means something to you.

David replied with the following letter.

To Grandpa and Grandma,

Thank you for a wonderful trip to Israel. I had a wonderful time and learned a lot about my Jewish heritage. Israel is a great country with a rich history and culture. It was very special to have the whole family there together to celebrate Hanna's Bat Mitzvah and to see so many relatives that I had not met before. Maybe next time everyone can come to Hawaii for a visit.

I bought postcards at the Volcano National Park where the world's most active volcano on earth is located, so I could show it to people from all over, similar to our Israeli tour guide who showed us the most active religions in the world.

One card is a picture of a sea turtle. The sea turtles are very beautiful and they are endangered. I am very lucky to live in such a paradise and to study to become a spiritual teacher. There is so much fighting in the world, and I hope to bring some beauty and peace into the world, like this turtle does.

Love David

In the fall of 1984 I worked in a factory in the Bronx. Work colleagues returned from holidays in their native India and told each other about their parents, family, girls, politicians and so on. They saw the sadness on my face and that I was close to tears. I am very homesick for my family and friends. My colleague, Vijay, asked me why, in all these years, I never returned to Russia to see my family. I had such heartache. I replied:

- Guys, you do not understand and cannot imagine the huge force and power of the Soviets. When I left, OVIR declared me a traitor to the motherland, and said that my feet would never touch this land again.

The men at work did not believe me. They could not understand why this would be the case. Yes, my dear reader, they did not believe, and I am sure that you, people of today, cannot imagine, and believe that this is possible. It was terrible to be isolated from relatives and friends, separated from your mother, your happy family, the place where you lived, your friends and acquaintances. The invisible pain lay in my heart.

Someone who was already here in the early 1980s, might remember the story of an elderly couple who committed suicide because of their unhappiness. In 1984, a delegation of immigrants formerly from the Soviet Union, now living in Canada, went by ship to Odessa, to see how their families were living, and to bring some gifts to them. They were not allowed on shore and no one was allowed to board the ship. They were also originally able to see their family through binoculars and waved to each other. I hope that this will never happen again to future generations, but there are many obstacles to overcome. Leaving my mother and seven brothers and sisters in Russia was indescribably and oppressively sad. I had nightmares from which I awoke in terror. The question is how is this a spiritual matter for which I pray in the synagogue. You simply feel worried, worried all the time. The concept of the soul, as it relates to the question of God, whom we can not see, but know He exists.

After the conversation with my coworkers, Bob, a very nice American guy and colleague at work approached me and said:

- Look, I can see everything. I see you cry. I understand that you are very worried. Your soul longs for your family. But believe me, soon there will be a big change in Russia, and then you will be able to go and see your family. I replied:

- It's just not possible, Bob. You have no idea about the incredible power of the KGB. Everyone is registered and under the control of the police. If you are absent from work without a valid reason, after five or six days the police come to find you and want to know what money you have to live on.

But Bob said, “wait and see.”

And indeed, after 3-4 years his prediction came true. A miracle of global significance finally happened. The Russian government changed.

Gorbachev came to power, and with him, people with new ideas.

My wife and I jumped at the first opportunity In 1988 to take our vacation in Russia. We bought four of the biggest suitcases we could find. Our first stop was Leningrad where my two sisters lived. Then we went to Minsk, where my wife's mother and many relatives and friends lived.

My relatives came from Kalinkavichyi, Odessa, and Gomel for our family reunion in Leningrad. My oldest brother, Lazarus, came from Dnepropetrovsk, where he lived and served in the army. Everyone brought some food to arrange a nice evening meal and meeting. Mom cooked gefilte fish, Ura, the eldest, brought delicious stuffed intestines. My sister brought sausage, roasted chickens, etc. We were detained for several hours at customs where our luggage was inspected. After all, we were the first visitors from America. My relatives stood around the airport and saw me from a distance. We were able to wave to each other but approaching was impossible. I tried to run up to them to embrace them, but the police stopped me. It was not allowed. Maybe I would pass along something expensive or secret. All of my bags were opened. The customs officials discovered a radio, VCR, 24 small solar calculators, a lot of jewelry, tracksuits and all that I could fit in my suitcases. During the inspection they took half of the contents of my suitcases. They let us go, but told us to return the next day to pay a fine and retrieve our things.

At this point we started hugging and crying with joy. We had not seen each other for nine years. These were very hard years as we did not know whether we would meet again someday. We were accompanied by the police on the way to our hotel.

We had paid for our stay in the hotel, but we asked the hotel staff to allow us to spend the night with my sisters. After we gave them Marlboro and other packs of cigarettes as a gift, we were allowed to go home with my sisters. After seeing the other family members, and a good dinner with a drink, we all went out for a walk for fresh air. It was dark. Aron, the husband of my sister Rose, walked a little behind us. Two girls coming toward him asked for a cigarette. He replied that he did not have cigarettes. Then one of the girls said, “Oh, you Jew snout!” Aron told us about this incident, and wondered, “Well, how do they know in the dark that I am a Jew?” We laughed and remembered this incident in the future when we saw each other.

The next day I returned to customs with my niece. After a long negotiation we paid the required fine in dollars and took all of our things.

President Reagan was in Moscow the same time we were in Russia. We were happy and proud about this. I told my friends, “May God grant that we become friends and you will be able to travel freely to the United States to visit us.”

Our next stop was Minsk. The police met us at the airport and drove us to our hotel. My wife's mother lived about 20 minutes walking distance from the hotel. We were not allowed to visit her at home and offering a bribe in Belarus was very dangerous. Relatives and friends came to the hotel to see us. Visiting guests at the hotel were allowed to stay until 11 pm. I put a box of vodka in the room, and met my guests. One of my friends, Stepan Fedorovich, former lecturer at the Polytechnic Institute, with whom I worked at the Institute of Advanced Training of technical staff where I taught, commented, “Nick, you and I were friends for eleven years, and I did not know that you are a Jew.” I told him, “You never asked me. Was I just supposed to offer you this information for no reason?”

I gave him and Nik Gryshchenko a gift of a dollar bill with the image of George Washington, and said:

- This is a portrait of the first president of America. He is an inspiration for all countries, the founder of American law on freedom and democracy.

America was formed by people from many nations of all races, speaking different languages, with different cultures and education. Now in America all the nations of the world live under the same law.

My friends took the dollar bill and said that it was the first time that they saw American money.

People were still afraid to say much to visitors in 1988. I told them about some of the first Russian immigrants who came to America who found English very difficult, even after living in the country for five years. One such immigrant, Gregory Matyuk, sat for the citizenship exam. The first question was: “Who was the first president of America?” He hesitated, then remembered that the road bridge across the Hudson River called Washington and, without thinking, blurted out, “Washington Bridge.” He was lucky. They all roared with laughter. He became an American citizen.

We reminisced and talked enough for years with Nicky, with whom I studied in college in Gomel, and Kolya, the best man at my wedding.

One day I met my former colleague and friend, Bella, in the hotel lobby. She said that she would like to invite former secretary Valya to join us. Bella called her, and told her to bring some sour cucumbers and bread, and come to Hotel Jubilee, immediately. We prepared for this reunion. I sat with my back to the front door. My wife went to the other room. When Valya came in, she saw a man sitting with his back to her. When I stood up and turned toward her she was so surprised that she began to cry. The next day, we wandered around the shops with Bella, and I told her to choose whatever she wanted as a gift from me, that I would pay with a credit card. She asked me what that was. When I showed her the card she said, “You know, Nick, this is the first time I have seen a credit card. And it does not matter if you buy me something or not. It's just so nice that you offered!“

My brother, Lev, the chairman of the collective farm, lived 250 kilometers away from Minsk. He sent a car for me to travel to Kalinkavichyi, where I visited my mother's grave. I said goodbye to my mother and returned to my brother's home with him.

He lived in a village near the city of Svetlogorsk in a big house with a barn, where he kept cows, pigs, and chickens. It was quite a large farm. He had a very beautiful daughter, Christina, who was five years old, and looked just like her mother. When I got out of the car, she ran up to me and asked for candy. She ran away, and behind her was a swarm of flies or mosquitoes trying to bite her fair, plump body, and she paid no attention to them. Now she lives in Brooklyn, in her own separate bedroom. If there is a fly or mosquito in the house she cries for help. After a good snack we reminisced together. Lev provided Mama with potatoes and firewood in the winters. Firewood in Belarus in the winter is very crucial.

I recall a time when he called me at 5 AM and said,

“You're still sleeping and here on the river, everything is frozen. Let's go fishing!” So we did!

I sent a team of people. They cut the ice with crowbars, put nets in the hole, and pulled the fish straight from the water.

I called my friend Maguchёv, the main plant mechanic, to fish with us. It was an unforgettable fishing trip. We made a fire and ate fresh fish right on the snow, and brought home bags of frozen fish.

I was worried. We had to get back to the hotel in time to avoid trouble, and we made it on time. I tipped the woman who cleaned my room, $2.00 a day. She cried from happiness. “Oh, thank you,” she said. “You are such smart, kind people.”

After 2 weeks we returned home to America. What a joy! What luck!

In 1989, when we lived in Queens, New York, my niece, Mariya, arrived from Leningrad to visit. I was so happy to see her and did everything I could for her. I wanted to show her that Americans are rich people. One Sunday, I took 600 dollars, put them in my pocket and said: ”Marusenka, let's go to Manhattan today, and I will buy you and your children presents. We went by subway and then walked up 5th Avenue to 42nd Street. In those years, 42nd Street was terrible, until the arrival of the mayor, Mr. Giuliani.

Sitting - the author's wife - Galya, and Maroussia, the niece of the author's first love, Broniy

There were two times in my life when the pain in my hand saved my life. The first time was in Chuvashia, when wolves attacked me, and now when I was attacked by a thief.

In 1992, my brother, Arkady, his wife and his mother-in- law came to the United States from Odessa, and stayed in my apartment in Queens for a while. Naturally we had many conversations about our family, the restructuring, about Gorbachev, Yeltsin, the collapse of the Soviet Union, the incredible number of punks, as they were called earlier in the postwar years, and are now known as racketeers, always expecting bribes. Then my brother moved to Brooklyn to be with fellow natives from Odessa. I did not have enough money to buy him a business.

I remember how we sent him to Odessa via a train traveling to Leningrad-Odessa and passing through the Kalinkavichyi station. He had suitcases with meat, sausage, and eggs, which were easier to obtain in Kalinkavichyi, where he had friends who worked in a meat processing plant. On one occasion, I remember his eggs broke on the way. What a scandal! Now he, like the others here, standing firmly on his feet, praises the Odessa market.

In 1996, my second brother, Lev, a former chairman of the “Path to Communism,” came to the United States. In the earlier years he wasn't considered to be an enemy of the people and he was honored for his accomplishments. Time passed and the word, “Jew” was written on his door, despite the fact that his wife was Belarusian. There was a time when his name was not included in the voting list for the local Councils of Deputies district, even though all the chairmen of collective farms were to be deputies. It was only after the filing of their application for dismissal, that the first Secretary of the Communist Party re-established his name. My brother and his family were fearful after the

explosion of the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. His daughter was diagnosed with thyroid disease. Now, thank God, everything is fine. Now he visits the farm almost every year, where his presence is honored.

In 1999 my brother Lev persuaded me to go with his friends from Belarus, to Israel. The trip was stunning. The Israeli people are unfettered. They are now such free, friendly and courageous people. They do not fear being enemies of a state or disappearing into those terrible places where many were sent and never came back. We all went together to the Wailing Wall, where we prayed in a special room with Torahs. The government in Russia changed and ended the treacherous socialist system of the dictator, Stalin. The Russian congress did not meet for 20 years. There was hatred, murder, and suffering. Now that Stalin is gone people have changed. They do not betray each other. Just think! They don the Belarusians Jewish tallit In Jerusalem, the capital of the Jewish state, and pray to God.

A particular incident came to my mind. I lived in Minsk on the fifth floor of a building on Olszewski street. My neighbor, Luda, a teacher at the Pedagogical Institute, had a young son, five or six, who had a constant infection in the tip of his penis. Doctors advised Luda that her son needed an operation, a circumcision, to remedy the infection.

My wife and I assured her that everything would be fine, but Luda said that she would not allow this. “But he could die,” I said. We continued:

- Luda, it is necessary for your son to be circumcised and everything will be fine.

My wife says:

- My husband is circumcised and everything is fine.

Luda thought, and said:

- No way.

Then my wife said:

- So he can also die!

And she answered:

- It is better to die, but I will not do the circumcision.

They are interested in agriculture in Israel. My nephew, Boris, has a banana plantation with his friend from Morocco. On the farm they have 200 cows, 200 beef steers, and horses. I asked my brother Lev:

- What is the milk yield per cow on your farm?

- 7.8 liters, he said and in Israel, in particular, this

farmer, 30-35 liters per cow thanks to experience and technology.

We think that Israel is a small country, but here

everything exists as in large countries. The people are energetic, friendly and talented.

We stayed in Israel for 12 days with our Spevak family and also the Heitmann, Vinokur, Gorelik, Golovets and other families, all of whom came from Belarusian shtetls. They greeted us enthusiastically and prepared meals with delicious aromatic fruits, vegetables, fish and dairy products. They took us to places of interest: Akko, hot medicinal springs, the Sea of Galilee, Masada, the new beaches, boulevards, villas, high-rise buildings Ashdod, Ashkelon, Haifa and many other places.

During the years I lived in America I visited Israel seven times and always admired the beauty of the growing cities, beaches with all the amenities in Herzliya, Ashdod, and Ashkelon. I enjoyed the museums, Tel Aviv, markets, and Jerusalem!

On the way home on the plane, I sat alone. A religious boy who looked to me to be about eighteen sat near me. He asked:

- You are a Jew?

I say:

- Yes.

- And you have a Jewish mother?

- Yes - I replied.

He asked me other questions, and the meal was served. He asked me what I was eating. I called it ordinary food, and I began to eat it. The boy grabbed my food and threw it in the trash. I was at a loss over this and the boy said:

- You have no right to eat food that is not kosher. And he gave me his share. Of course, I ate what he gave me. Yes, it was delicious. I told him:

- I heard that kosher food is more expensive.

We had an interesting conversation and the time passed quickly.

Going back to my impressions of the trip to Israel, as the driver of a car, a motorist, I like circular intersections without traffic lights. I think that configuration is very safe, reliable and economical.

After I visited Masada I realized what a miracle it was that it really existed because I used to think that this place was fiction.

I believe that what happened to the Jews 1900 years ago continues to this day. We live scattered about in all countries of the world, separated and defenseless. In dangerous situations I believe that a provocateur will show up who by force of arms can unite hooligans and we, the Jews, are weaponless. Where do we run to in this case? There is much evidence that the Jews should be united in some sort of power.

I'll tell you a real story told to me by a witness. During the war, on the day of liberation of the city of Kiev, a Captain, a Jew, arrived at his apartment. He saw that a bunch of drunk civilian guys were sitting at his table. The Captain kindly said with a smile:

- Guys, this is my apartment. Please do not break the furniture.

One of them stood up and said:

- You Jew snout, your apartment is there.

He pointed down to the ground and uttered a barrage of offensive, dirty words.

The captain could not stand that, so he took out a gun and killed him. Almost all of Kiev participated in a pogrom against this Captain. They beat in the windows of the Captain's apartment, and other apartments where Jews lived. This event suggests that all Jews are responsible for one another. That is what God told the Jews. We are disunited because Jews stopped stopped going to synagogue. When one black person is killed they unite and demonstrate their strength to the whole city, government agencies and the general public. What if, God forbid, someone killed a Jew? There is quiet. There are no demonstrations, organizations or defense except, perhaps, some groups in New York. Jewish organizations in France and Europe have to advocate for themselves for permission to have weapons.

I learned from the book, The Da Vinci Code, that 2,000 years ago, the church looted the wealth of the temple in Jerusalem, and this wealth was used to build hundreds of churches across Europe, in which Jews were cursed and accused.

In 1703 Ukraine was under Polish rule. The Government imposed a tribute on the Ukrainians. They were supposed to give a certain amount of valuables to the authorities. To collect the tribute, Poles were sent to the Jews in Ukraine who were forced to give their money to the Poles. As the Ukrainians believed that the Jews took this money, massacres began. Bogdan Khmelnitsky took advantage of these riots, and saw the power he could gain to combine all sorts of bandits. The Ukrainians roared, “Kill the Jews.” This combination enabled him to win the war with Poland and Ukraine became an independent country. 100,000 Jews were killed in this war. Jewish blood flowed in the streets, and now Ukrainians bow to the monument to Bogdan Khmelnitsky.

Where are our millionaires who could organize the rescue points? We need money for this. They are busy, trying to become richer. Today, anti-Semitism is increasing in almost all countries of the world. With each passing day it becomes worse for our children and grandchildren. Jews are scattered and defenseless without mutual associations. Today there are thousands of pieces of real evidence found among excavations in Jerusalem that prove our Jewish connection to that city thousands of years ago, but the president of the United States US president says that Jerusalem and other territories in Israel belong to the Palestinian Arabs.

After twenty years of working in the factory I saved some money and bought a weekend house on the shore of Greenwood Lake in New York, and a motorboat, for our enjoyment, to rest and gather strength for the week. This

The author and his wife, Galya, in the country house in Greenwood Lake, NY

Our boat at Greenwood Lake, NY

We had a lot of happy days and a constant good mood, and these friendships continue to this day. One time I invited my friends, mainly from Woodhaven Boulevard in Queens. We ate marinated meat, fresh fish caught at dawn, soup and boiled potatoes.

I had not been feeling well and my doctors recommended climate change for me; someplace warm like Arizona or San Diego, California. My married daughter had two children and my son was attending college. How do we change where we live? My kids insisted that my health was the primary consideration. My wife and I started thinking seriously about our material resources and other issues. My wife worked in Manhattan, at Bergdorf Goodman, an expensive American store. I worked no less than ten hours each day at my job. We lived in Queens. Most of our Russian emigrant friends settled in Brooklyn, and they seem to be better versed in all matters, passing along important information to each other. One day I was walking in our machine shop with a sad face and one of our staff, Leon Cherwony, a guy from Kiev, who lived in Brooklyn, said to me, What happened Nik? You look ill.” I told him what was going on, and he suggested that I go to the synagogue for advice. I did just that, and told the Rebbe about my situation. He told me, “Remember for life, that in any place in the world there is a synagogue. Enter any of them, and you will always be welcome. You will always feel at home in the synagogue. Here's a phone number. Call them and tell them that I sent you.” After talking with the manager at work, with my wife, and children, I packed my suitcase and went to San Diego.

Oh my God! Everyone was so friendly. My son transferred from Stony Brook University to college in California. Nobody asked for documents or registration. I did not expect such a caring reception. Yes, I realized fully then what an American synagogue is like, and what real freedom is.

A few years later the Rebbe spoke about a situation similar to mine. A Jew went on a business trip to a small town in Africa. He arrived at a hotel on a Friday evening. As he lay on the bed to rest he suddenly remembered that it was Friday eve, before Shabbos. He got up, dressed, and went out to look for a synagogue. He knocked on several doors but no one knew or even heard of the word. But a man from the town came around the corner and sent a young man to bring him to a specific place. He walked to the house and knocked. A woman opened a window and said:

- Go out of the gate and to the second floor. They are waiting for you.

The guy wonders: “Why did she say that they are waiting for me? How do they know that I'm here?” He went up to the second floor where nine people rose and cried out in joy.

- Come in, come in. Now we have ten to start the prayers.

San Diego is an amazingly beautiful city. I was charmed by its heights, yachts in the bays, restaurants on the ocean, bars with inexpensive meals, city markets with fresh vegetables and fruits, bridges, and the naval submarine base. I was in a very nice hotel. I loved the zoo, with its diverse wildlife. So many beautiful public institutions and cultured people in San Diego. I just fell in love with this city. But two months later my daughter had news for me:

- Dad, I see that you are okay, thank God. I must tell you that my husband said that he will not move to California. He cannot leave his elderly parents. Please come back.

I had to quit my job and go back to Queens, and once again look for a new job there. I decided to go to the factory where I had been working before my move to California. The manager met me, and as if nothing had happened, he told me that my desk was waiting for me. What a joy, what American freedom. I recall the words of the famous comedian, Yakov Smirnoff, a Russian emigrant, who said the magic words,”America what a Country!” We also continue to enjoy living in America, without which there would not be such a special country like Israel. America and Israel are twins.

So thank God, I have a job in New York, but my son was still in San Diego at the University of California. A few months later I decided to visit him. I asked him if he had a girlfriend. “Yeah, Dad,” said my son. I asked to meet her. As soon as I saw her I knew she was wrong for him. He said nothing, but reading the expression on his face, I realized that he would obey. Soon after he transferred back to Stony Brook University and returned to his old school friends. One of them, Anatol Feigin, organized a trip across the United States, along with several of his female friends. One of them, Rita, who lived in Chicago, and my son became very close. They spent many sleepless nights talking on the phone, solving physics and mathematics problems for hours. My son was an excellent student. There were obstacles, but when my son, like his father, fell in love, it was forever. After graduation he was hired by the prestigious company, GoldmanSachs, in Manhattan. When he worked late, he and other young professionals were driven home in a limousine. We were very pleased with his success. But for love, there are no barriers.

There was a wedding in Chicago. Aunt Broniya and Uncle Yasha Demberg came from Israel with their family for the wedding. I cry when I think about my son because he is so far away. On one hand it's hard for me, but on the other hand, I thank God. Rita is a Russian girl and he loves her. God should grant them happiness, health and children. Eventually, I calmed down. The parents of his friends and my two grandsons, Alan and David, also attended the wedding.

The photographer filmed the wedding. For the first time in the history of our big family, a wedding was held according to the rules of the Jewish religion. The couple stood under the chuppah, my son broke the glass, and the couple exchanged rings and kisses. My heart stops now, when I think of the wedding, and even more so when watching the movie. Rita's father, Volodya Shubinsky, made a beautiful toast. We were very happy for the couple and hoped that their lives would be happy together. They both had good educations, observed the same religion, and most importantly, they loved each other. Boris and Rita became the parents of our two brilliant granddaughters, Hanochku and Miyachku.

After several more years of living in New Jersey my health again required my attention. It was beautiful to look through a window in a warm house, and see the snow, but when I had to shovel and clear the driveway, remove the ice from the sidewalks, check for water in the basement, each movement left me so short of breath that I had to lie down and rest. We sold our house in New Jersey and moved to Florida.

I returned home to Hollywood, Florida after a two week visit to my son in Chicago, in September 2005. I was already retired and my wife still worked in New York. A hurricane was approaching Florida, and the weather was ominous. I prepared food and water and sat down to watch TV. By evening the wind roared at 100 miles per hour. My glass balcony doors began to bend and some water came in. I pushed on the doors to resist the wind and found a board to prop in place to hold the doors. The wind roared like the sound of hundreds of jets flying overhead. There were roofs flying about and bushes, and trees. I watched it all in a state of fear. All of this lasted a little over an hour. I later learned that during the peak hours of the hurricane the wind speed reached 140 miles per hour.

My board and I passed the test. The door held. I am sure that no one who had stayed in Miami slept that night. Then the wind subsided. In the morning we were in complete darkness. We did not have electricity, water, or gasoline. Everything was destroyed. Two cranes that were working on the construction of the Hotel Diplomat were lying on the road. Every tree and bush was damaged. The damage caused by Hurricane Wilma on October 10, 2005, cost 29 million dollars to repair.

There was a pizza store near our house that cooked their pizza in a wood stove. Two days after the hurricane, they were selling pizza. The line went all the way to the Hotel Diplomat. I heard that the Publix supermarket hooked up a gasoline powered generator and was offering hot water. I ran back and stood in line for more than two hours for this wonderful hot water.

In September 2007, I suggested to my wife that we have a party to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary and to invite our friends and family. “Let's think about when we should make the party, whom to invite and which restaurant to choose.”

My wife agreed. “Thank God, we have the financial ability to do it well. We will have a toast to our careers and a happily married life, and for our bravery, which allowed us to take our children out of the country.”

Most of our family lives in Brooklyn, Queens, and New Jersey, and we decided to hold this event in Brooklyn. We made lists of guests, and made phone calls searching for a good place for the party. It was joyful work, but we received a terrible call from Israel. My youngest sister Rosa was taken to hospital. I had to cancel all of the plans for our celebration.

My brother and I went to Israel to see our sister. Our prayers and requests have not helped. Rosa has two daughters, Anna and Sveta, and they have children. Anya's daughter is Bella, which is my mother's name. I had a dream that my mother came to the wedding.

We live quietly now, restoring health. I had a heart attack in Miami, and was transported to the hospital by ambulance. Now everything seems more or less normal. Time has passed. And where are our children? My daughter is in New Jersey and my son is in Chicago. We live in hope to see them soon and wait for their phone calls. I remember the days when I was little and lived in our shtetl, and how I waited for and rejoiced in the arrival of my grandmothers. They always brought sweets, a slice of challah, and a smile. Now, I look forward to my children visiting us here in Florida. We are ready to offer them everything that they may want.

As days and nights go by we don't often get calls or visits from my son and daughter. In dreams we are together, and my soul suffers.

Of course, we have had many joyful meetings over the years. We went to Chicago for two weeks and met all together in New York, New Jersey and elsewhere. Last year, my grandson Alan, rented a big house with four rooms which was able to accommodate everyone who visited. And they did come! My wife's nephew, Vadim and his wife and children came from Canada. Zina, Alan's mother came, and many others. We ate fish and kebabs, salads, and organic vegetables. It was fun, and I hope that we can repeat this kind of get-together in the future.

And again, the days and nights pass and I am bored. We still wait.

And now it is my birthday. My daughter called and said that she will be here in a couple of days. What joy! My son also called to find out if he, too, can come, but he had a business trip first.

Finally, the day came to pick up my daughter from the airport. We sat drinking and talking, and suddenly there was a very quiet knock at the door. When I opened the door I could not believe my eyes. I was speechless. My son and his daughter Hanochka came to see us. We spent three happy days with the kids which made more new memories.

Currently we live in the northern part of Miami in Hollywood, Florida. About two miles away there is a raceway, called the Gulfstream Park. On the same grounds of the park is a casino where people play cards and slot machines. The rest of the land had been abandoned and overgrown. Seven years ago, the land was bought by a Canadian businessman and over several years he constructed a park which houses a sports complex, a symphonic concert hall, restaurants and shops. This unique place reminds us of the French style of architecture. A year ago, the owner began building an enormous monument of a horse with wings. You can see it clearly from the road. We visit this park about twice a month, as we enjoy the music and dancing. One day in June, we took our friends Lena and Sasha from Minsk with us, and it turned out that my mother, Gali, and Sasha's mom lived in Minsk on Apanskoy street on the same floor and were best friends.

Lena gave me a copy of the book, Ulysses, to read.

When I picked up the book In the morning and read the title, something stirred in me. I asked my wife: “Galya, do you remember seeing a very large horse statue? We see it on the road to the Gulfstream park. I told you that it came from history. Either I read about it, or someone told me.”

I excitedly began to read the book, which is in English, in very small print and about 800 pages long. I couldn't read that with my vision. I put the book down. After a day or two I picked it up again. I thought about the hero of the book. It was familiar to me. I looked up Ulysses on my computer, and I recalled the story. I read it when I was 15 years old.

I always come back to the memory of David, Goliath and many others. And I think that history should not be forgotten.

I found good friends in Florida with whom I could talk and share the happy and sad moments of life. The best of these friends are the guys from Kiev, Gregory Pinchyk, their granddaughter, the singer, Bianochka, who recently celebrated her bat mitzvah.

Rita and Michael Bernstein are our friends. Rita always organizes both Jewish and American holiday celebrations. We go to dances and other activities with them. Sonia and Ura Mila are another cute couple. Then there are Yana and Marik, and others. Almost no one came from my shtetl of Minsk or Kalinkavichyi. Most emigrated to Israel and settled in different cities there, many of them in Nazareth. When I visited Israel during my seven trips I always met up with my friends from Kalinkavichyi. We recalled our younger years, but we all have changed after so much time has gone by.

We took cruises from Miami several times to the Bahamas and Mexico. We had good times with wonderful food. We also traveled to the Caribbean with family and relatives from Israel. Bella, Galya, Volodya, and my niece came on this vacation. They were all so very pleased with the trip and sent me a copy of a poem they wrote about the trip.

I go to the synagogue to thank God and to understand a little bit about the strength which carried the Jews for centuries. My friends say to me, “Oh Nick! You've become religious.” And I reply: The more I go to the synagogue, the more I understand why women light the Shabbat candles on Friday night; why we celebrate our holidays; why after we read prayers or at the end of each chapter of the Torah, the Rabbi says, “Moshiach will come.” In the Soviet Union, it was expected that communism would win all over the world. We know that communism collapsed in the USSR but the teachings of the Torah never collapse. The Torah has existed for millennia and will live forever.

I could talk to Rabbi Kuden on any topic. He was easy and pleasant to be with. He brought a mezuzah for the front door of my apartment and read the prayer on the piece of paper in the mezuzah. I asked him to please explain to me what is written on that paper inside the mezuzah.” He said, “You must love thy Lord God with all your heart, soul, and with all your being.” I followed in the footsteps of my father Berul. On Saturday, once a week, I evaluate my life. Honor thy father and thy mother, who gave you the best years of your life. I began to understand the Hebrew alphabet a little bit, and how the letters correspond to numbers. Two letters and combinations of letters have certain meanings.

I am satisfied with the answer to a question which I could not answer for years: why should we go to the synagogue every day? For example, if you have a clogged drain in the house you call a plumber. He fixes the leak, everything is back to normal, and you thank him. It is the same way with God. After all, he worked for six days, he created us and our earth, and on the seventh day he rested. God deserves it, so we thanked him for his work. And it is very important that we do this in the synagogue, and all together.

Over the last 20 years of my life in America, and after many long conversations with my son on the subject of Jewish history, he realized that I was seriously interested in the matter and bought some books in English for me and encouraged me to read them. He said it was so much better in English. So I sat down with a dictionary and began to read and translate. I learned so much that it's hard to even describe. The title of one of these books is Chronicle of Jewish History from the Patriarchs to the 21st Century, by Sol Scharfstein. I admire this book, and believe it should be required reading for all Russian speaking Jews. The map indicates the location of the birth of our patriarch, Abram, in Ur, who was certain that God had told him to settle down in a fertile land called Canaan. I wonder how Abraham thought to find this location as God told him. How did he know the geography to get to it?

Now, as I am in my eighties, I am convinced by the example of my friend's granddaughter, Grisha Pinchuk Bianochki. In seven years she learned five languages, and sings arias from operas. So the answer to how Abraham knew where to find the fertile land was inspired by God. I am sure that as the years pass, and the oppressed Jews of today are replaced by new generations, everyone will live in this land of milk and honey in peace and friendship.

I believe that the story of Joseph is about forgiveness. For Joseph forgave his brothers for selling him into slavery. I think that everyone, including Jews from the Soviet Union, should ask God for forgiveness for sins committed. There are no perfect people in the world. God will forgive us and never allow anything like the Holocaust to occur again.

In my present-day understanding of why Judaism survived for millennia, it is because our women were always there to bolster their children. They were not stopped by fear or fatigue. The Jewish mother did not hesitate to give her life to save her child. For example, my mother jumped from a train to save her daughter, Rosa. I could write a separate book about my mother's life. When she died I was living in America and only learned of her passing after two weeks. Sending emails or making phone calls were not allowed. Communication was heavily censored. I only found out through Alik, a friend from Minsk who came from Brooklyn to give me the news. Russians Jews were indignant that men and women pray separately in the synagogue. This arrangement did not fit into our philosophy. Frankly, I didn't ask about it until recently. I love to see my wife kiss the Torah as it is carried around the room, past the curtains into the women's section. And I think that there is still meaning in the separation of men and women. Everything should be done correctly. I will continue to go to the synagogue and study and transfer the knowledge to my grandchildren and friends, whom I love very much. From the Torah we know the names of Jewish women: Channah, Esther, Rebecca, Sarah and thousands of others who saved thousands of Jews. Women received the special privilege from God to light the Shabbat and holiday candles.

This is freedom. Freedom to celebrate the bar mitzvah of my grandson David, where he learned to read the prayers in our own language of Hebrew.

My Grandson David's Bar Mitzvah

I repeated over and over, “Oh, if my mother and my family who still live they could see this.”

My daughter Zina with her son David

All of us, Hanochki's parents and grandparents stood on the steps of the stone hill. Hanochka read a prayer. She learned it by heart, and in the right places, we all kissed the Torah. Later, I wrote: “The star has risen on a pedestal of Jerusalem in order to reproduce the biblical heroine Hana's name.”

My son hired a bus with a driver guide for 5 days and we traveled around most of the country. On other days we took our grandchildren and roamed around Jerusalem from morning until late at night.

Two years later we celebrated Miaychke's, my other granddaughter's bat mitzvah, but this time in Chicago. I invited 40 relatives who were living in Israel. My two grandsons arrived. David came from Hawaii, where he lives, and Alan from New York. We had a joyful party and an interesting gathering of friends and family. I thanked everyone for their participation in our celebration and said: “Today is one of the most holy and shining days in the history of our family. And our Torah, given to us by God, says: “I will gather you and I will bless you in your holy land. And you will see Jerusalem and the land of promise, and you will celebrate your Jewish holidays.” And now, the more than 100-year-old dreams of our parents and grandparents have been fulfilled. Next year in Jerusalem. I thank you, my dear relatives, for the work you invested in the construction of the new-old state of Israel and the strengthening of the defense power of the country. You are the heroes and defenders of the Jews living not only in Israel, but Jews around the world. And now I am not afraid, and I am proud to say that I am a Jew.”

I have a natural desire to learn. For example, one day, while walking in Manhattan, I saw an ad for an Indian film in which the main role was played by the actor Raj Kapoor. I liked that actor, and I stopped in to watch the movie. The hall was filled to capacity with mostly Indians as the film was in their native language. In the beginning I thought I would leave, but the whole room was laughing and crying and I was curious about what was going on. At that time I worked in the Bronx at a military factory and about 15 engineers from India worked with me. While at work, I told them about the film I saw. The more they explained the content of the movie, the more clear and interesting the movie became to me. Afterwards I thought that my brain remained the same, but the concepts I learned changed it. I find the synagogue interesting for me because after the explanation of the Torah reading, my understanding of life changes.

I invited a friend from Ukraine during the Jewish holiday of Passover to join us at our festive table, of meals, matzah and wine. After another toast to the festival, this man, who had a high level of education said, in all seriousness, “These holidays, they are just made up.” We all looked at each other, and I wasn't sure how to respond to this, but it looked like he fell to earth from another planet.

Most immigrants from Russia do not want to read, analyze, and understand that the Jewish

holidays are not fairy tales. They are events of a victorious nation. For example, in our times, the Israeli army defeated the armies of five Arab countries. We celebrate these victories and the celebrations memorialize those who fell in battle. The holidays give us the opportunity to celebrate and discover the beauty of life on this planet.

I sometimes ask my friends, “Why don't you go to the synagogue? Why don't you observe the Sabbath and Jewish holidays? Why don't you read books about Jewish history? One of my friends replied, “Nick, yes, I do not go and do not read, but in my soul and heart I am a Jew. I do not refuse that I am a Jew and I hope that God will forgive me.” I told him about a lecture by Rabbi Tennenhaus that explained that love in your heart is not enough. I learned why Hebrew is written and read from right to left. When Moses received the Torah at Mount Sinai, it was on stone slabs. Moses was forced to cut the letters holding a hammer in his right hand and a chisel in the left. Thus, the letters were created where he could produce them.

Another question about Judaism is why are Jews circumcised? Everyone always thinks that God instructed Moses about this rite thousands of years ago, for religious purposes. However, British and other scientists proved through experiments with animals that this ritual stimulates paternal feelings of fathers toward their calves. It is also generally accepted that there are medical benefits from circumcision and therefore, a medical need for it.

Now I understand how a non-Jewish father, like my gentile friend Pete, could hit his little six -year-old child for not listening to him. There are too many parents who beat their young children. I once told my brother when he had recently arrived in the United States from Odessa, that children are not beaten here. And he told me that he saw a father beat his child. For anyone who goes to synagogue, this does not make sense. In the synagogue, parents lovingly tend to their children. Even at the time of prayer, children sit on the father's knee or shoulder, and he hugs and kisses them. It is so beautiful to see this. The child should be taught by example, not by beating. Many friends have asked me where the Star of David originated from. During WWII, many Jews who were required to wear this symbol had no idea what it was. I read the following. There once was a matriarchal society whose insignia was a triangle pointed upwards. Then the insignia for the patriarchy was a triangle pointed downward. As we know from history, they are at odds with each other. Women were called witches, and many were burned. When David came to power, he said: “Women and men should live in friendship,” and put one triangle on the other. The result was the Star of David, a symbol for thousands of years.

Who could believe that 35 years ago I had complete faith in the ideology of Marxism and socialism. I was raised to believe that religion was the opiate of the people; that religious holidays were fairy tales full of stupefying fiction to intimidate people to carry out the will of the king and the church, and I spent many years now, reading, analyzing and learning more about the historical background of the Jews, with real archeological proof from ancient scrolls and inscriptions on ancient walls and tunnels. I personally saw the Wailing Wall inscriptions, and the destroyed road made from huge boulders in Jerusalem, right next to which we held a bar and bat mitzvah. Based on so much substantial evidence, I believe that the holidays arise from real events. We must follow the traditions of our culture and religion, because we exist because of them.

Every day, I'm more and more convinced that the Torah is not fiction. It was given to us by someone with a philosophical doctrine. God sent brilliant people to us: DaVinci, Einstein, Abraham, Moses, and thousands of others, each of whom transmitted their individual knowledge to the world. They wrote, they solved problems, they explained, they painted. An example from my life is illustrated by the granddaughter of my friend, Gregory Pinchuk. Bianochka was born a musical genius. Without any musical training, she started to play the violin on her own when she was 5-years-old. I saw her for the first time when she was seven. She played the fiddle without notes. I said that she was born a Jewish star. She sang songs in 5 languages without any special training. One day, after her concert, a woman came up to the organizer of the concert and asked, “Are you the teacher of this girl?” And he answered with his hands up and said: “God is her teacher.” A few days later I was at the concert. She played the violin with the Miami Symphony Orchestra. One of the pieces was the music from the film Schindler's List. People were crying.

I am interested in how small, quiet people can survive. In the 1980's Rabbi Rafael Tennenhaus in Florida explained that if you were to build a multi-storey building without a foundation it is sure to collapse no matter how strong the building. Many mighty nations disappeared because they were built without a foundation such as the Roman Empire, Egypt under the Pharaohs, and many others. However, the Jews continue to live. Our foundation is the Torah which Jews have embraced since ancient times.

The second factor in the survival of the Jewish nation are our Jewish women. History teaches many facts, i.e., when women fought for the survival of our nation. When opponents of the Torah and the belief in one God wanted to cast a “Golden Calf” and bow down to it, Jewish women collected their gold jewelry and gave it away for the construction of the temple.

The third factor is our children. Parents begin to teach Torah to their children from birth. The children learn prayers and their meanings, and the belief in one God who created all that is in the world. They learn to read books and understand the world. This is completely true. Even looking at the way I grew up, I read a lot, and in fact I was not forced to do it. The need to read and learn were in my genes. And it may be because I have genes that are something more than I am. After all, my name Kigas, is the same as the son of Levi.

People need something in which to believe. Based on real-life examples in my life, I know that people are always searching for something or someone to believe in. In most cases throughout time, people believed and obeyed smarter and stronger individuals. These strong individuals either died or won over millions of people. Among these personalities were Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, Napoleon, Hitler, Stalin, and hundreds of others. Religious strife claimed the lives of millions and resulted in many wars and troubles to humanity, and hampered scientific progress. For example, the scientist Copernicus was burned at the stake. In my opinion, the human tragedy lies in the fact that the great people of this world have used God, not to create a good, normal life, but to seize power and wealth with murderous wars.

But for some reason when people find themselves in difficult situations they say the same thing: “Oh God, help me!” I think that “Oh my God” is some kind of abstract, unknown, statement that is stored in the human brain, to be used when faith is necessary.

I calculated that in my life there were 20 cases of “destiny” that helped me or saved my life. My destiny stands alone in the Torah, which according to traditional belief, was given by God to his servant, Moses, on Mount Sinai. And now we, and future generations, should study the Torah, the foundation on which we lived for more than 3000 years. And one day the Messiah will arrive and bring peace to the world for everyone's survival.

I am more and more convinced that the Jews of the former Soviet Union lived in slavery, in the full sense of the word. This was confirmed by the Second World War. Christianity clouded the brains of all the people of the world, including those in America. They wanted to seize world leadership. The Church in Rome looted valuables from Jerusalem, and built thousands of churches around the world. During the time of the Spanish Inquisition, a large number of Jews converted to Christianity, but in compliance with Jewish traditions, they still hoped that a new ruler would change the situation for the better. The Pope of Rome issued an order that more brutal measures, including burning at the stake, and confiscation of property for the benefit of the church, will be applied to those who observe Jewish traditions. Many thousands of Jews lost their identity and did not know that they were genetically Jewish. A strong power always blames the weak.

Now that we have freedom in America and in Israel, Jews from the Soviet Union and Europe still do not attend synagogue. I tried to talk to the German Jews on this subject, but they moved away from these conversations.

Those Jews who do not go to the synagogue say in their defense: “Where was God when the Jews were killed for being Jewish?” In countries where the Jews were treated well, the Jews forgot who they were. When the reform Jews in Germany moved the Sabbath to Sunday, they began to preach Christianity. They said that we must talk, walk, dress and eat like Germans. Rabbi Abraham Teizer announced that Berlin is our Jerusalem. In 1870, the wealthiest Jew, A.Bernshteyn, received the iron cross, an accolade which is prohibited by the Torah.

Fifty years ago there were 5 million Jews in America. Statistically there should be 12 million now. Where are they? They are assimilated. Here, thank God, there were no pogroms and hopefully never will be. I am deeply convinced that if the Jews of the world would go to the synagogue, our nation would be strengthened and united and able to carry out the covenants that began with Abraham: to keep the Sabbath, to praise and give thanks to God. “Hear, O Israel,” is for all Jews: Cohens, Levites and Israelites. Our God is one. When jealousy no longer corrodes the human soul, people will live in peace and a Holocaust cannot occur. Dear readers! After analyzing the picture of the secular movement of the Jews, including my great-grandparents I came to believe that there were distinct periods in Jewish history. First period. The Roman Empire brutally enslaved Judea. The fortress of Masada stands as a reminder where in order not to surrender to the Romans, 600 people committed suicide and the survivors were sold into slavery. The Arch of Titus in Rome was built to honor the Roman triumph in the Jewish wars. Second period, the Spanish Inquisition. Jews wandered for more than 1,000 years throughout the world. Finally, they settled in Spain where they reached high high positions in society, acquired wealth, and practiced their religion, and experienced a rich and interesting life. I would equate their lives with the lives of Jews in the USSR, with the exception of the prohibition of religion.

Then the Spanish Inquisition was unleashed in the 1490s by Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand. As a result of their religious zeal, Spain did not tolerate the Jews. My God, what happened! Jews were sold into slavery, they were forced to eat pork, they were burned alive, their books and possessions also burned and destroyed.

Jews found themselves once again, wandering around the world. Many changed their names, their religion, their nationality. Some went south (North Africa) and east up to Tashkent, Bukhara, and are called Sephardim. Jews who went west after the Roman exile are called Ashkenazim, and they include my family, my great-grandparents, my grandparents and my parents in Davydovka. Jews spoke in Yiddish, but it was banned in the Soviet Union, and people were forced to speak only Russian. The Spanish Inquisition showed that religion is a terrible threat to all humanity. Millions of people died because of Christian persecutions. Marxist-Leninist philosophy states that life is a struggle. The Torah does not teach to kill. It is the unifier of people of all nations.

Third period is what occurred in our lifetime. The war, evacuation, and the loss of millions of people of all nations, including six million Jews. Those who survived could not return to their homes where nothing was left for them. After many years following the war, once again there is an evacuation, but to the friendly countries of Israel and America.

I believe that peace on our planet can only come if governments do not fund military might. We need to study the Torah and the Bible. Governments must emphasize, through workshops and lectures, the role of friendship, mutual understanding and peace among all people of the world.

Dear readers. As you know, I am a Jew, but I want to say in Russian, “f “u... the Jews.” Someone brought us out of slavery, someone gave us the Torah, someone helped create the state of Israel. And, at the same time, someone is punishing us for our failure to fulfill our obligations. And that someone asks us to carry out the promises that Abraham made with God: to keep the Sabbath, and thank God for what he has done and continues to do. Go to the synagogue, give to charity with a good heart, learn and teach others. God is all-powerful and if we fulfill our contract with him, he will forgive our sins. God revealed his strength to the Jews during World War II. I urge all Jews, to go to the synagogue. This will ensure that the Holocaust will never be repeated, and the sufferings of my generation will not happen again.

Our dear and lovely Daughter! Having you for a daughter is a great gift. That life gave to us. The love for you is in Mother’s and Father’s heart, Stays deep and true. And, dear daughter, No matter where you live, Our love is always with you. Your birthday is a blooming time in your life, And today, as you can see, Our dear relatives and friends, Тhe shining sun, The mountains, the blooming flowers, Everything is beautiful, as you, My Dear Daughter... So, We wish YOU to stay Many, many healthy years and Have joy from your very good children.

Happy Birthday! L'chaim!

I cannot believe, that I have such a great, smart and highly educated explorer - Grandson. Thank GOD, that I brought Your Mom to this great country. And I pray that you stay healthy and get knowledge as much as possible. And then you are going to teach your children and pass to them your knowledge. Happy Birthday, Allan, and Zei gezunt! We love You! We wish You the best in your life.

Many kisses. Gr. Ma and Gr. Pa.

My dear nice Tin! I wish you to be thin, Beautiful and healthy, Lovely and wealthy! Be a good student, Free behave and think, Take the best wishes From your uncle Nick. Happy birthday! I love you!

Today is a wonderful day for our entire family. And it's a great pleasure to see all of you, who came to congratulate Our dear and lovely Bat Mitzvah girl - Mia. Our Dear and lovely Miele! Your Gr. Ma, and Gr. Pa. are very happy and proud to have such a beautiful, Smart, friendly Granddaughter like you. Bat Mitzvah means that from now on you have the rights and responsibilities as an adult person, and I want you to remember that you are a lucky girl. You are born in a country with many opportunities. Here you can achieve your dreams, of course with Mama's and Papa's help, who love you very much. You can build a healthy, successful life. Dear Miele! Always remember that we are all children of Israel. Be proud of this like the gymnastic girl Alexandra Raisman. Today we celebrate Your Bat Mitzvah. Today we celebrate our love for you. And we wish you a healthy life filled with happiness and success. Live To 120 years! Mazel Tov!!!!!

One day I told my Mama a word, that Before I get old, I want to see the world. I feel that the world is wonderful and great And I want to have a date with the world. My girlfriend cried: I'll keep my word, Just go and see the beauty of the world. I feel that the world is wonderful and great And I want to have a date with the world. In the journey I saw the mountains, Monuments new and old, I was in places hot and cold, Аnd I survived, thank God. I feel that the world is wonderful and great And I want to have a date with the world. Years later I came to Mama's house Already being wise, but bold. And I am happy. I saw the world! The world is really wonderful and great And I had a lovely date with the world. Especially, O America! I love You very much, America!

David

Grandpa Kolya, you are now 80 years old. How long you've lived, How many stories you've told, And how many times you've told them to us. For sure now I know theм: About your childhood and world war II, About moving to America and not knowing what to do. But you endured many hardships, And fought for many years. You won many battles, And shed many tears. Life has matured you into a young-old man, If there was something you couldn't do in your youth, Now I am sure you can. Time and time again for your family you provided, For them you loved and you guided, Through times of economic hardship, And loss of friends and family, You gave strength and comfort, And your leadership came in handily. You are the backbone of this family. The core of its strength, You have lived through so much, 80 years in length. And may you live a long and prosperous retirement, May you enjoy everything in your life, And accept your entitlement, The entitlement of peace and relaxation, Of reaping the benefits of your hard work and dedication, May you be a good husband and an even better friend, May you love and be a good Jew until the very end. For this is your 80-th Birthday Don't give it away. Enjoy every minute, And mazel tov to this wonderful day! Happy Birthday Grandpa!

LOVE, Your grandson David

  The Story of My Life     Yizkor Book Project     JewishGen Home Page

Copyright © 1999-2025 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 4 Apr 2025 by LA