[Page 105]
Addendum
[Page 106]
April 1946
by Isser Tsukernik
Translated by Chaim Charutz
Donated by Gary Katz
…I was here on the Seder night with the remnants of Israel, who were in the training camps in Holland. However, a Seder like this and a Haggada like this, even an enemy would not imagine to himself. Apparently, the basis existed for the creation of high morale. The hall was luxuriously decorated. The table was set with good food; and we, the Israelis were happy and gay. Nevertheless, the remnants of war sat in mourning and cried all the time. We all felt that the Haggadah that we were reading was written in the blood of millions and that we should hurry up and rehabilitate our homeland, so that our nation should never again expect destruction and ruin like this…
In all the countries of Northern Europe where I happened to tour as an envoy, I did not, to my sorrow, find even one Shtutshiner. Who knows if there remained any survivors from our town because the Nazi Oppressor destroyed all the Jewish Communities in this area to the foundation. In these countries, we find remnants of communities of central and southern Poland but not from the eastern communities. I know the address of Moshe Katschiesky's daughter; and I'll try to pass on to her whatever I've been asked to pass on… A rumor has reached me that Yaakov Mazovetsky and Yitschak Rubinstein are in a refugee camp in Italy, in which former partisans are gathering. I also received a message from Miriam's father and brother, who are also in Italy, that they are soon to leave that country. It's possible that they are all at La-Spezzia, in which 1,200 Jews are now imprisoned. These tried to sail in three small ships to the Land of Israel…
Haifa, 1949
by Rabbi Shmuel-Mordechai Katz
Translated by Chaim Charutz
Donated by Gary Katz
A few days ago, I arrived with my family in Haifa with the ship Kedma; and here I found out about the commemoration for the holy souls of our city. Because of the exhaustion from my travels, I cannot be there. I therefore send these words to all those from our town, in writing:
Our tears are tears of the exploited; and they have no comfort. May the Lord avenge the spilt blood of our brothers. May we see the spilling of the blood of the killers and of those who helped them and rejoiced with them. Let us be encouraged in our heavy and bitter sorrow, as I come to encourage you with a very bitter soul.
Translated by Chaim Charutz
Donated by Gary Katz
Ben-Zion Levit
The First Chairman of ex-Shtutshiners in Israel
Born in Shtutshin in 1896, was the son of Yoel and Alte Levit . A Hebrew teacher and active in Tse'irei Zion (Youngsters of Zion). He was one of the pioneers of Aliya from his town. He was a graduate of the Rabbinical Seminar in Odessa and one of the cultural activists there. He was the first teacher of Mathematics at the Hebrew Gymnasium in Kovno, which introduced Hebrew as the language of instruction. He was a graduate of the Kotbus School of Chemical Engineering. He was one of the founders of the Federation of Chemists in Israel.
He emigrated to Palestine in 1924. He acted as manager of the Chemistry Department of the Lodzia company. He dedicated himself to the improvement of the quality of water and its adjustment for the purposes of drinking, agricultural industry, and medicine. In 1937, he set up an experimental laboratory with his own hands. He bought scientific books, studied, and researched. During the years, he covered the map of the country with water improvement installations. He worked in every place where there was an industrial plant, hospital, swimming pool, chemical laboratory or farming economy, which needed better water. We should especially note here the Institute for Water Improvement at the Dead Sea Works in Sedom and basic research in the Water Field in Eilat.
Two characters merged within him: the shtetl man, a hidden treasure of folklore, a music lover, a man of dreams and vision; and the man of research, science and technical performance. His characteristics, strengths and virtues were dedicated to the service of his nation and his country, first abroad, and later in Israel. He died at work in Afula, while installing a water improvement system at the local hospital, on the 22nd March 1956. Let his memory be blessed.
Shmuel-Yaakov Schneider
He was born in Shtutshin in 1897 to his parents Moshe and Freisel Schneider . He was active in Tse'irei Zion and one of the founders of the Tarbut school in his town of birth. He was a Zionist activist for the Foundation Fund and the JNF. He was one of the main activists in public and welfare affairs. He was the chairman of the board at the People's Bank, a member of the Board at the Federation of Merchants, a representative of the Jewish population at the Municipal Government institutions in the town and the district. Because of this activity, he was arrested by the Soviet Police (when the Red Army marched in, in September 1939) and exiled to Siberia.
He was released from imprisonment in 1943 and spent two years in the Soviet Union. He later came with the stream of returning refugees to western Germany in 1945. There, he became active in the displaced persons' camps until his emigration to Israel in 1948. Here he worked as a bookkeeper at the Wizo Federation and did his work very devotedly and loyally. He devoted all his spare time to the Ex-Shtutshiners' Union (as chairman and as treasurer of the benevolent fund). He devoted himself especially to the new immigrants and sick people from his town and contributed much to the gathering of material and assuring the publishing of this memorial book.
He passed away after a long illness on the 22nd November 1965. His childhood acquaintance and friend through all the years, Dr. Yisrael Marshak , on hearing of his death, wrote the following:
[Page 114]
Shmuel (Samuel) Halkin
Translated by Phillip Frey
Deep graves, red clay---- Once I had a home. Springtime----cedars used to blossom, Autumn----birds used to fly away, Winter----snow used to fall there, Now----Alas and alack blossoms there. Disaster struck my home, Door and gate are open For the murders, for the skinners, Those, who slaughter little children, Those, who spare no one. Year after year have passed, Those graves are full, And still redder is the clay, That clay is now my home. There my brothers lie, Those torn limb from limb, Those murdered at home, Those shot near the grave. Deep graves, red clay---- Once I had a home. |
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