MEMOIRS OF SHERESHEV

By MOISHE KANTOROWITZ

 

 

 

Chapter 4.B

 

After the “Sukkoth” (Tabernacle holidays), which brings with it the inevitable frost, my father took with him an expert on trees by the name of Benjamin GOLDBERG and together with a government agent from the forestry department, they left to pick out the right trees which had to be cut for building our house.  To build our house, the expert had to pick the right trees from which 12 meter long and 6 by 12 inch beams had to be cut for the walls of the house.  The forester marked them down, then they all left for the forestry department to settle on the price.  This process took several days. Shortly after, peasants from the surrounding villages and some local ones, began hauling in the huge pine trunks, unloading them on our newly bought building lot, and on the adjoining yard of the big synagogue, after an agreement was made with the president of the synagogue.  Specially hired men began to peel the bark of the tree trunks marking them with straight lines by placing a thin soot covered cord at both ends of the log tautly, then lifting the middle of the cord and letting it snap along the tree trunk.  Each log to be used needed to be hoisted onto two sawhorses on either side. One man stood on top of the log and two below lifting and pulling a long saw up and down thus cutting the log into the needed building material.   A couple of crews worked at it continuously throughout the entire winter.  For me it was a new and interesting experience.  There was no shortage of spectators, children and grown-ups. My friends used to like going with me to watch, as with me they would not be chased by the workers.

 

My circle of friends became larger during that time, with the addition of the two brothers Lazar and Litek ROTENBERG, Kalman KALBKOIF, Itzik MALETZKY and Meir KALBKOIF.  Our group numbered 11 boys.  The two brothers ROTENBERG lived on the west side of  the “Mark” (town square).  Kalman KALBKOIF  on the south side, and Itzik MALETZKY in the southeastern side, right at the start of  Ostrowiecka Street.  Meir KALBKOIF lived in a side lane off the “Mark”, named Zaszkolna.  All those above mentioned boys, except of Litek, were by a year or two older than I.  Incidentally, the two brothers Rotenberg were both born on February the third, Litek in 1923, and Lazar In 1921.

 

        In early spring of 1932, hired men started to get the foundation for the house ready.  For this purpose, the large stones of the previous foundation were used with the addition of more brought in from the outlying farms.  The stones were cemented together forming a stone and cement quadrangle, giving the appearance of a meter high fortress.  On this foundation the builders lay the first row of timber, which consisted of heavy beams, 10 by 10 inches thick.  They were locked together in the corners by cut outs (niches) in them.  For good luck in the bottom beam, a little hole was drilled into which an old coin was deposited plus a piece of bread and salt as an omen for the residence for long  and plentiful life.  Who could have imagined then that only 7 short years later, the Bolsheviks would not only take away from us our new home without compensation, but tell my father to be thankful that we are not being sent to Siberia. 

 

The building of the house took most of the summer, and I spent a lot of time watching the progress.  Never the less, I did not forget to visit my maternal grandparents, the AUERBACHs.  From early spring, my grandfather, Lazar-Bear used to bring to me at school different dishes or treats that my grandmother Freida-Leah or my mother used to make for me.  At 11 o’clock, during the long break, my grandfather was always there waiting for me with that special treat.  While eating, I used to try to talk to him and share with him my morning experience, but he never failed to remind me and say “It is written that one does not talk while one eats.”  He wanted me to finish everything before the bell. 

 

That summer during my many visits to my grandparents, I noticed my grandmother Freida-Leah changing dressings on my grandfather’s neck, just at the base of his head.  It looked like a fair sized ulcer.   Over the summer I even noticed that it got bigger.  It seemed to me that they intended to cure it without a doctor’s help, as it did not interfere in his daily movements or activities.

 

The building of the house progressed nicely.  The house ran parallel to the square.  To the back part of the house was added an extension under which a large cellar was built.  In these cement walls of the cellar were niches  in which shelves were inserted, that could hold all kinds of jars, pots, etc.  In the roof of the extension a “Fligl” (a movable part of the roof), was built in so it can be opened over a “Sukkah”(Tabernacle), which could be erected under it.  To do the carpenter work 2 brothers were hired.   One, Chaim TENENBAUM with his 2 sons “Itche” and “Berl”, and, the second, David TENENBAUM, with his son “Berl”.  They made the windows, doors and 2 porches for the 2 front doors.  One of those entrances, the Bolsheviks closed in, after they took our house away from us.  Our house was the only one in Shereshev that had a double floor.  There was a space of 20 centimeters between the two, which was filled in with charcoal.  The charcoal served a double purpose, to absorb the dampness and to keep the warmth inside the house.  In that same summer of 1932, electricity was introduced in my shtetl.  All summer long many of the townspeople watched as workers were digging in tall wooden posts and copper wires were being strung along their porcelain insulators.  In most houses a direct wire led to the single bulb in the house and the proprietor paid a flat rate per bulb.  We must have been one in no more than a dozen households that had a meter, for we had electric bulbs in every room .

 

Shereshev came into the modern era, with lit streets, so that one could walk at night on the wooden sidewalk without the danger of tripping over a protruding board.  True, the lights or power used to come on at sunset and go out at midnight, and was only accessible to the houses on the main streets.   But then again, who walked  in those eternally muddy lanes.  The owners of the power station were also the proprietors of a flour mill, built in 1930, the first in Shereshev with an up to date diesel motor.  They were: Pessach MALETZKY and Raizl  ZUBATZKY.  Pessach’s son Itzyk was one of my friends and Raizl  ZUBATZKY was our former landlady where we lived in 1929.

 

The school year 1931-32 began and I found myself in grade 3.  A new principal by the name of Yaakov-Shaye PEKER took over.  The teacher Yoel WALDSHAN became vice-principal.  Another local young man, just graduated from teacher’s seminar in Wilno became a teacher too.  His name was Yankl JUDELEWSKY.  There was another teacher by the name of NITZBERG from the neighboring town of Pruzany and one more from western Poland by the name of LIPKIND, a student of law in university who had to give up his studies temporarily for financial reasons.

 

Right after the start of the school year, we moved into our new home.  Something strange or unusual happened to me, that I cannot explain even today.  A day or two, after we moved in I began to get headaches.  The worst used to be as soon I got out of bed in the morning.  It used to ease up during the day, but the pain never left me completely.  To me it was unusual for I never experienced headaches.  A day before Rosh Hashana (Jewish New Year), the Mezuzot arrived (a small tube containing an inscribed strip of parchment attached to the doorpost of Jewish homes,) that my father ordered in Brest-Litovsk some time earlier.  Here is the mystery.  As soon as my father affixed the Mezuzot to the doorposts, my headaches disappeared for good.  I leave it open for the reader to come to any conclusion. 

 

Through  that summer and fall the sore on my grandfather Lazer-Bear’s neck, despite my grandmother’s attention, and the doctor’s ointment, got worse.  Finally, the doctor suggested to take my grandfather to the Pruzany hospital.  As soon as the doctors took a look at it, they told my mother to rush him immediately to Brest-Litovsk, where there was a much bigger hospital and better qualified doctors.  My mother took him to the hospital in Brest-Litovsk, where he was operated on immediately.   A couple days after the operation, the surgeon told my mother to go home, as it is a long process and with her being there, she will not help anybody, as my mother was pregnant then and had 2 little children at home, besides my sister Sheva and me.  My mother returned home for a few days, leaving her father under the attention of the surgeon and some relatives there.  Two days after my mother returned home, she received an urgent telegram from the hospital to come immediately.  In those days a trip from Shereshev to Brest-Litovsk was a matter of 24 hours. I don’t know by what means of transportation she got there.  I only know that she left immediately.  When she got to the hospital there, the surgeon informed her that it became necessary to operate on my grandfather again and he could not wait any longer for my mother’s consent.  He also told her that the operation took place without an anesthesia because of his age and state of health.  My mother was permitted to see him.  He recognized her and asked if she heard his screams during the operation.  She answered: “You know daddy I was then in Shereshev,” to which he said “You could have heard it there.”  My grandfather’s condition deteriorated very fast.  The doctor told my mother to take him home, as they could do nothing for him.  He used those words and I am repeating the way my mother told us.  “Only G-d in Heaven can help him now.” 

 

How my mother brought him back home I don’t remember.  It had to be by ambulance or taxi.  He couldn’t have withstood a train ride.  When I saw my grandfather the next evening, he seemed to be unconscious. The only word he was continuously saying was “Water.”  Otherwise, he was oblivious to everything else.  My mother and grandmother who were constantly at his side, kept on wetting his lips, as the doctor ordered not to give him anything to drink. 

 

Right after school, my sister Sheva and I used to run to our grandparents.  There were always people in there, neighbours and members of the synagogue.  Maybe because of the many people or maybe never having been confronted with a death in the family, I did not realize the severity of the situation.  Two or three days later, coming into my classroom, a classmate of mine, by the name of Abraham WINOGRAD, who lived 4 houses from my grandparents, unceremoniously told me, that my grandfather died early that very morning.  The teacher who came into the class and heard the news, sent me home right away.  From there I ran to my grandparents, where I found the house full of people.  My grandfather was lying on the floor covered with a white sheet, two candles in candlesticks, were burning on either side of his head.  Bent over him, stood my mother and my grandmother crying bitterly; the other women in the house, cried with them.  A few minutes later, a quiet whispering took place between my mother, grandmother, and a few other women.  They put me down sitting on the floor, with my back to my grandfather, my grandmother took his hand by the wrist, rubbing his already rigid hand over my back, saying something so quietly, that even I couldn’t hear what.  The whole process took a minute or two.  Today, I still don’t know what it meant or what sort of a remedy or omen it was.  Nor do I know why they didn’t do it to my sister Sheva or my almost 3 year old brother Liova (Leibl).  

 

The “Chavrah-Kadisha”(voluntary burial society), started the “Thaharah”(purification of the body.) That is, to wash the corpse and dress it in traditional “Takhrikhim”(Shrouds.)  This is done by men only, if the departed is a male, and by women if it is a female.  I stood by the entire procedure and watched as they pulled out from the hole at the base of my grandfather’s head, a cluster of dressings that left a space in which a man’s fist could easily fit in.  I looked at it in horror, as a shudder went through me.   In my 9 year old mind, I could not comprehend what they had done to my grandfather and how cruel and merciless the doctors were to him.  I was glad when they put the shrouds on him and wrapped him in his “Tallith” (Prayer Shawl.), so I wouldn’t have to look at the gaping hole in his head.  When they finally put him on the “Mittah”(a stretcher on which the corpse is placed and carried,) and carried him out of the house, I noticed that my school and teachers were lined up in front of the house, waiting for the funeral.  As far as I remember or know, this was the only time that the Hebrew School participated in a funeral.   It took place on the 18th day of the month of Cheshvan, according to the Jewish calendar.  There was a large crowd in the street.  The school children stood 2 in a row, with the school teachers keeping an eye on them.  

 

Just like  all other small shtetls in Eastern Europe, so in Shereshev at a funeral, the body lying on the “Mittah” (stretcher), was carried all the way to the cemetery on the shoulders of volunteers which is considered to be a “Mitzvah”(a good deed.) So it was with my grandfather, except that this time the procession took a detour to the Rabbi’s  synagogue, where my grandfather was the “Gabbi,” (Trustee.) for many years, as a matter of fact, to his very last day.  There in front of the synagogue, to be more explicit, from its porch, he was eulogized and carried to the cemetery, where his grave was ready and waiting for him.  I looked on with curiosity and grief, as they lowered my grandfather into the cold and damp ground, putting 4 boards around the 4 sides of the pit at the bottom that formed a kind of box.  A small white sack was filled with earth and placed under his head.  Two small pieces of black broken pottery was placed over his closed eyes and his face was sprinkled with earth from Israel.  In each hand, rather between the fingers of each hand, was put a small twig and after being gently but fully wrapped with his “Tallit” (Prayer Shawl), boards were put over him that rested on the edges of the previously put in perpendicular four boards, thus forming a kind of box over and around him.  As soon as this was done, men began to fill in the grave while I was looking on with a grieving heart as the cold and damp earth was covering my grandfather, the then most loved by me human being, second only to my mother.  It was the first time that I attended a funeral and it had to be my grandfather’s.

 

My grandmother Freida-Leah, did not remain long in the house.  She sold it and rented a room at the house of an elderly widow by the name of Themma KWELMAN.  The house was on the same street but closer to the centre, thus closer to us.  That Themma KWELMAN lived with a single son, Abraham, who was the assistant bookkeeper in the local bank and with her 2 daughters.  The name of the older one was Feigl and the younger one Ghitl.  The source of that woman’s income was a store in the “Raad Kromen” (row of stores in the town square.)

 

It must have been difficult for my grandmother to get used to her new life style, losing a husband after 55 years of marriage, and having to leave the house in which she was born and lived a life time.  All she had left in Shereshev, was her daughter, my mother and us, her grandchildren. My grandmother corresponded with her son, our Uncle Shloime (Salomon), since he left Shereshev and very little with her other son, Philip, who used to write rarely, in contrast to his brother Shloime, who used to be a prolific and eloquent letter writer.  Our grandmother, Freida-Leah was a loving and wholly devoted person and grandmother, and despite my sister Sheva’s and my tender age, we understood and felt her love and devotion to us.  Now, we felt came the time, although in a small way, to reciprocate for all we owed her. There was not a day, that my sister and I did not visit her and if, G-d forbid, it was getting dark, and we had not seen her yet, our mother used to remind us.

 

Interesting to note that my grandmother, Freida-Leah nee GOLDFARB, could trace her ancestry in Shereshev back many generations. I recall once, my grandfather, Laizer-Bear took me with him to the cemetery on the anniversary day of the death of my grandmother’s grandfather. How we struggled to get to the grave site in the old part of the cemetery.  The fallen branches of the large trees, which my grandfather had to throw on the side, so we could move ahead.   The moss on the grave-stone and barely legible inscription was all proof of my grandmother’s roots in Shereshev. Yet my grandmother had no relatives there in my time. All we knew is that she had a brother, in Simforopol, in Crimea, by the name of Boris-Leib GOLDFARB.  He moved there before the first World War, and remained there, corresponding with my mother up to the Nazi attack on the Soviet Union in June of 1941.  His son Yosl GOLDFARB lived in Pruzany, they had 2 children, a daughter Pearl, my sister Sheva’s age, and a son Menachem, my age, who survived Auschwitz, and is living now in Louisville, Kentucky.