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Some people search a lifetime for their dream job. Jim Rusnak found his merely six years after leaving the halls of academia.
With degrees in English and German and a lifetime of swimming experience under his belt, Rusnak '95 began his journey by taking a sports writer position with the Times of Northwest Indiana. At the same time, he also managed to hold down a swim coach position at Hobart High School.
Then after the sixth year he was afforded the opportunity to meld the two together to form the perfect marriage between his passion for writing and love of swimming.
Rusnak was hired as the USA Swimming publications coordinator, a job he has held joyously for the past three-and-a-half years.
"Most people don't get this opportunity, so I am very, very lucky," the former presidential scholar said.
USA Swimming, the national governing body for swimming, is located at the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Working in such an awe-inspiring environment gives Rusnak all the pep he needs.
"You come in here and everywhere you look there are the Olympic rings and every once in a while you get glimpses of some of the athletes you see on TV in other sports and it's motivating because everybody here seems to be working towards a certain level of excellence," he said. "You don't want to come in here and let them down."
Rusnak's post includes being editor-in-chief of Splash Magazine and content editor for the USA Swimming web site (usaswimming.org).
Splash Magazine is a media property and public relations vehicle for USA Swimming, which has an over 250,000 member circulation. Rusnak is responsible for coming up with the end product, from conception and ideas of the different articles to the completion. He plans out an editorial calendar a few months in advance of the coming year designed to include big competitions from the USA Swimming standpoint and relevant articles to accompany. He then assigns stories to his half dozen freelance reporters to cover and provides guidance along the way.
"We have a really big audience, so it's a huge challenge to try to figure out what kind of articles would appeal to the broadest range of people," Rusnak said. "That is our goal, to make sure we don't leave anyone out and we can hit everyone and write articles that people can relate to, swimmers can relate to, coaches can relate to, parents can look at and take something away from and at the same time make our sport look as good as possible because that is what it is all about with our publication."
With the national team being USA Swimming's crown jewel, Rusnak has continued to implement a steady flow of information and articles on the members and their accomplishments but has also began to incorporate more about the sport and opportunities for non-elite swimmers.
"What we like to do is have a central theme and then break it down so there is some practical application for swimmers out there at the grass roots level," the former Bachelor editor-in-chief and swimming beat writer said. "Then maybe go on and tie the national team into the central theme some way."
One issue dealt with how national team swimmers balanced their hard training with their scholastic work, while another focused on college swimming and the opportunities available to aspiring athletes. Rusnak can relate to both from his days at Wabash.
Rusnak was a swimmer at Wabash but he wasn't lured there to swim, he was snagged by how the school presented itself as a challenge.
"I am not one of those people who back down from a challenge, so when they presented it as a challenge I said that is where I am going to school," the magna cum laude graduate said. "I knew it was the place for me."
The biggest challenge Rusnak had to face came not in the classroom but in the swimming pool. After being burnt out from swimming in high school, Rusnak didn't figure he would join the swim team. However, with persuasion from other swimmers and former swim coach Gail Pebworth, Rusnak decided to give it a try.
"The first semester of Wabash I didn't do as well because my attitude wasn't in it," he said. "Then I decided to make a change in attitude and coach Pebworth was instrumental in teaching me how to make a change in attitude. You don't have to think about it you just decide you're going to go this direction and that's what you do."
Rusnak was never the best on the team but he found a lot of joy in swimming. The determination and attitude change helped him discover any time he needed to make an improvement he had the ability.
"The experience on the swim team really helped me realize I could do that and has pushed me on to where I am today."
Though coach Pebworth is gone, Rusnak remains tied to the Wabash swim program knowing full well how valuable such an experience can be for young men.
"Jim has been instrumental to me over the last three years," current swim coach Peter Casares said. "He had continually e-mailed me hearty congratulations, offered support and suggestion, and inspired me to sustain an environment that will produce alumni with as strong a connection to the college and swimming program. He truly has been my 'real-life' example of everything right about a swimming and diving program being part of a college education."
Hunckler is a free-lance writer based in Bloomington, Ind.
In photo:
Above right and on homepage: Rusnak photographed near poolside during the World Swimming Trials at the IUPUI Natatorium in Indianapolis in April.
Lower left: Wabash swim coach Peter Casares.


text:
Transit of Venus
On 5/6 June 2012 the world witnessed a transit of Venus, a celestial took place that is so rare that it will not be seen again until 2117. Astronomers Without Borders had some special plans for this rare event.
|Webcast from Mount Wilson Observatory
Watch the webcast of the Venus transit from historic Mount Wilson Observatory, including vintage telescopes, interviews with scientists, historians, and transit experts. Co-hosted by Mike Simmons, Founder and President of Astronomers Without Borders and Ian O'Neill, space publisher of Discovery News
|Transit of Venus web app
See observations from users of the VenusTransit smartphone app, share your observations, see what others did, and more on this web app accessible on any type of device.
|VenusTransit smartphone app
Over 100,000 people downloaded the phone app and added their contact timings to a worldwide project. See the results on the web app.
What is a Transit of Venus?
Mercury and Venus are the only planets closer to the Sun than Earth, both moving faster in their orbits and passing us regularly. But rather than crossing directly between us and the Sun, these planets are usually slightly above or below the Sun as we see them. When they line up just right we see the round, black silhouette of the planet slowly crossing the Sun, an even referred to as a "transit." Mercury transits the Sun 13 or 14 times each century. But Venus transits happen in pairs - two transits eight years apart - with more than 100 years between each pair.
Historical Importance
Only six Venus transits have occurred since the invention of the telescope in the early 17th century. There were no observers of the first one in 1631 that we know of, and only two who we know saw the transit in 1639. In the 18th century, Sir Edmond Halley described a method for measuring the distance from the Earth to the Sun through observations of Venus transits from widely separated sites. The same had been attempted with transits of Mercury but Venus transits allow for much more precise measurements.
Halley's publication led to expeditions sent around the world by many nations to view the pair of Venus transits later in the 17th century. The same took place with the 19th century pair of Venus transits. No Venus transits occurred in the 20th century. While 20th century methods eventually supplanted the Venus transit method in measuring distances in the solar system, the history of the event is an important link to our past.
Learn more about what a Venus transit is, what you can see at your location, and how to observe it:
NASA Sun-Earth Day - Events, Webcasts and More

subset: commoncrawl


text:
For Teaser 204 we are looking for chilly colours ie blue's greens greys. This teaser will run until the first Wednesday in January 2013. Where did the year go?!
There are no restrictions on what you use, you do not to have to use Tanda stamps - you don't have to be a stamper either, just use whatever you have in your stash in whatever style you fancy! Please link back to your entry and not your blog....sometimes it is really hard to find your entries. If you could link back to the Tanda Blog to that would be great!
Have fun with this one, post your work on your blog and mention the Tanda Teaser with a link. Then leave a comment with the static link to your direct post. We would love to come and check out your creations! If you do not have your own blog - check out the Tanda Stamp Forum. There is a Gallery and section for people to do the challenge Forum based!
For this week's sample, I have used a stamp from "Tanda Ice Hockey mini set 1".
As always, we look forward to seeing your takes on the challenge!


text:
It's the midyear point (give or take), which means it's time look back at the first six months of 2013 and say, Is it July already? How the heck did that happen? Am I really that old? And has anyone seen my reading glasses?
It's also a good excuse to look at the people who've made the first half of this year both interesting and exasperating. Here are my picks for the biggest heroes and zeros of 2013, so far.*
[ Cash in on your IT stories! Send your IT tales to firstname.lastname@example.com. If we publish it, we'll keep you anonymous and send you a $50 American Express gift cheque. | For a humorous take on the tech industry's shenanigans, subscribe to Robert X. Cringely's Notes from the Underground newsletter. | Get the latest insight on the tech news that matters from InfoWorld's Tech Watch blog. ]
Hero: Ed Snowden
I get it: If Snowden were truly a hero, he might have stayed in the United States when he made his disclosures like other whistleblowers have done, and hoped for public opinion to be on his side. But whatever his motivations, Snowden performed a valuable service by exposing the secret reach of the NSA and the complicity of the courts and Congress in allowing it. By staying in the limelight (and out of Guantanamo Bay) he gave journalists motivation to move the story forward, instead of burying it. The result was a remarkable series of disclosures that built upon what Snowden uncovered. Other whistleblowers have tried and failed to warn us about the insatiable appetite of the industrial surveillance complex; Snowden succeeded. That's heroism in my book.
Zero: Elon Musk
For his attempts to make electric cars sexy and space tourism feasible, the PayPal billionaire and CEO of Tesla Motors is considered a hero by many. But when Musk responded to a negative review of his supercharger stations in the New York Times by calling the reviewer a liar -- complete with selectively chosen data points that demonstrate exactly how creepy Tesla can be if it really wants to -- he ignited an Internet storm. Some praised him for fighting back against a flawed review, others (me included) scolded him for throwing a public tantrum. Your mileage may vary.
Hero: John McAfee
Perhaps the antivirus software legend murdered his neighbor (though my gut tells me he's being set up). Perhaps he's been cooking up some not entirely legal biopharmaceuticals in the jungles of Belize. Perhaps he faked a heart attack to avoid being imprisoned by the authorities. Definitely, he's a few coconuts short of a full piña colada. But McAfee is also the most entertaining high-tech entrepreneur turned bath-salts-huffing yogi on the planet. And this NSFW (trust me) parody video on how to uninstall McAfee AntiVirus is flat out hilarious. When I grow up, I want to be John McAfee.


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To the Editor
The American Red Cross came to Estherville on Thursday, February 9th to help us celebrate Valentines Day a little early. Yes, we had another blood drive.
This drive was sponsored by Estherville Lutheran Church and was held at the Duhigg Center. The cookies provided by the church were so varied and delicious.
It was hard to select just one, so many donors sampled more than just one. Thank You!! We gave out only one-gallon pin this drive, but it was a biggie: Don West received his twelfth (12!!) gallon pin. That means that this was his 96th donation. WOW!!
We also saw many new facees at this drive, not new donorsjust new faces to Estherville.
We welcomed Patrick Eaton, Donald Metzler, Genoeva Lopez, Gerald Paterson, Russ Richard, Brandon Gifford, Tanya Sutton, Lynn Flatfard, Mike Alig and Amanda Hagedorn. Also Sandi Reigard, Emily Kirshner, Kevin Spoo and Kim Phillips. I hope to see these new faces and many more "old" faces at the next blood drive on May 1,2012 at the Duhigg Center. I don't have a sponsor yet, but I am working on one.
We were able to collect 61 units of blood for the Red Cross, which is enough to impact 183 lives in need of some aspect of that life giving force within each of us.
I urge old and new donors and those who may have never thought about giving something of themselves before to make an appointment or just come to the next blood drive on May 1st. THE NEED IS CONSTANT.
Donna Day-Templin
American Red Cross Blood Drive
Coordinator for Estherville


text:
MONTREAL — If Quebec's largest labour federation had had its way, the Charbonneau Commission would never have happened.
After more than a month of damaging testimony linking some of the highest-ranking executives within the FTQ to organized crime, it had become abundantly clear why those executives weren't keen on the idea of a public inquiry examining corruption in the province's construction industry.
What became clear on Tuesday, however, was just how far the FTQ was willing to go to stop the commission from ever getting off the ground.
As former FTQ-Construction president Jean Lavallée took the stand for a third day, Justice France Charbonneau heard evidence suggesting that he and former FTQ president Michel Arsenault planned to use their political connections within the Parti Québécois to prevent the launch of an inquiry in mid-2009.
In a police wiretap recording from April of that year, Arsenault references a "deal with (Claude) Blanchet" — the husband of Quebec Premier Pauline Marois. The bottom line, Arsenault explains on the tape, is that the PQ "won't touch" the debate surrounding a possible inquiry. The then-Liberal government was reportedly considering a public probe in the wake of revelations about possible ties to organized crime within the FTQ, but there was little pressure from the opposition PQ to follow through. That apparently suited Arsenault just fine.
"We'll talk to Pauline," he adds on the recording.
Lavallée also makes mention of "our friends within the PQ" during the conversation.
Marois has made no secret of the fact that she met repeatedly with Arsenault (who is no longer head of the labour federation) and has defended those meetings, saying it's normal for politicians to interact with people from various spheres, including the province's labour unions. Her husband was the head of the union's multibillion-dollar investment fund until the late 1990s.
The PQ would eventually wade deeply into the debate surrounding a proposed public inquiry into corruption and collusion in the construction industry, and the party pushed hard for the creation of the Charbonneau Commission in 2010 and 2011.
Former premier Jean Charest finally created the Charbonneau Commission in the fall of 2011. The public hearings got underway in May 2012, and since taking power, the PQ has granted Charbonneau an 18-month extension on her mandate.
There is no evidence that Lavallée or Arsenault actually followed up on their phone conversation and met with Marois or other members of the PQ to prevent the inquiry from taking shape in 2009.
On the stand Tuesday, Lavallée denied there were any follow-ups and also continued to deny any and all wrongdoing during his more than two decades as president of FTQ-Construction. He did acknowledge, however, that he was a regular donor to the PQ and that his wife worked for the party for a decade.
"I had no meetings with the PQ (about preventing an inquiry)," he said, but then added that he wished he had done so. Lavallée was openly critical of the commission on Tuesday, telling Justice Charbonneau that he had been "convicted in advance ... so I'm telling you I'm frustrated to be at this inquiry and convicted in advance."
Lavallée defended his decision to do business with certain people linked to organized crime, saying he was unaware of any active ties. If he had been, he said, he would have intervened and put a stop to it.
"We are not corrupt people," Lavallée said of Quebec's union leaders. "We work hard."
He is expected to be back on the stand on Wednesday firstname.lastname@example.com


text:
Back in May, I cast on a baby blanket for a close friend of mine.
Two weekends ago, the blanket looked like this:
This was also just seven days before her baby shower.
All that week I came home from work and knit the evening away. On Saturday (the day before the shower), I knit all day and far into the night. I took a four hour break to sleep and continued knitting on Sunday morning. 30 minutes before I had to leave for the shower, I finished the blanket:
The mother loved it and it was a big hit at the shower.
I tend to procrastinate, but I've never cut a knitting deadline this close. I still can't believe I finished it.
Details are on my Ravelry page.
I haven't knit since I cast off this blanket, but I've been eyeing all the socks I have in progress.
I think the sock bug is about to bite me.


text:
[Page 699]
Brest is entered in the annals of world history with various other historical events. It is impossible to mention all of these occurrences - but we publish here the recollections of Count Atkater Tchernin 1872-1932. Tchernin was an Austrian diplomat and foreign minister of Austria 1916-1918. He played an active role in drafting the peace treaty signed in Brest Litovsk in 1918. An excerpt from Trotski's My Life (Trotski was the famous Soviet representative). An excerpt from Winston Churchill's book The Second World War.
Later on I had a long conversation with Yaffe. He was of the opinion that first all the peoples of the world should be liberated - only then would we accheive true brotherhood. When I remarked that this could lead to conflict, unrest, and civil war in the whole world he did not deny this and stressed that such a war would fulfill human ideals and therefore be justified.
From the memoirs of Count Tchernin about the peace negotiations after the W.W.1. Archives of the Russian Revolution. 1921.
Jewish Community of Brest by naming a street - Rehov Kehillat Brisk D' Lita
[Page 703]
Translated by Dr. Samuel Chani and Jenni Buch Do not wonder that I write these few words. An extraordinary event happened to me two days ago when I visited Brest Litovsk en route on my trip to Russia, - and I wish to share my experiences with you.
I had to exchange trains in Brest and had a five-hour wait there. I took a taxi to the city center and walked through the streets of the city, strolling through the main and side streets, looking at the faces of the passers-by, searching for a Jew but could not find one.
The city had not changed a great deal, (the ruins had almost disappeared). There were many new buildings and nice gardens that had been planted in the city squares. On the corner of Dabrowska and The 3rd of May Sts. (the main intersection of the city) where I thought there had once been a cinema, there now was a small park with a statue of Stalin in the middle.
The Great Synagogue was still standing but had been changed into a cinema. I peered inside nothing had changed except for the rows of seats in a semi circle, where the Holy Ark once was now stood the large picture screen.
The city was tinged with greenery. I saw many men in military uniforms a typical provincial city. The streets have new names: Topolowska = Karl Marx St., Dabrowska = Soviet Army St. There are bus services running to Kobryn, Pruzhany and Pinsk.
I chatted to a bus driver who told me about the liquidation of the Jews of Brest. Some of them were sent to Kobryn and were murdered there. Now there are a few Jews, almost all of them had not lived in Brest before the war. The majority of residents seemed to be Poles that had remained there from before the war. Those that had come froms the towns of Biala and Janow, for example, and had occupied Jewish homes and their contents until today.
It is very difficult for me to describe my emotions duriing those hours to walk around the streets of Brest, devoid of any Jews. When I spotted a face which looked Jewish, I stopped the person and asked him he denied it and avoided me
It was also strange to travel through the neighboring towns and villages such as Mezrich, Biala, Terespol, Zhabinka and Bereza etc, etc, and not find a Jew there either. I did not go to Kobryn although I was only 15 kilometers from there.
With comradely greetings and regards, M. Almoni (Anonymous in Hebrew).
Photo taken by Dr. Sam Chani in 1965
Translator's note: This monument was vandalized and destroyed in the 1970s
[Page 705]
Translated by Dr. Samuel Chani and Jenni Buch At a general assembly of the Organization of Brest Immigrants in Israel that took place in Tel Aviv in 1944, it was decided to publish a memorial book about this famous and historic community. I undertook to manage this difficult task and issued a plea for support in the press, both in Israel and abroad. I requested that all the Briskers in the world send in their memoirs, recollections, photos, memorabilia, political and institutional records. This request was printed in the U.S., Australia, South Africa, Argentina, Europe, Mexico and Brazil. I also sent more than 300 personal letters, both in Israel and overseas.
Over the following eight years we collected enough material for a book - I also visited with elderly Briskers in Israel and recorded their recollections. When I visited the grey haired Beinish Koloditzky in Petach Tikvah he was very moved by the idea of a memorial book. With tears in his eyes, he related his memoirs to me for hours. With his faint and tired voice: I'm already 84 years old, but I want to tell you about our city. I want to live to see the publication of this book about Brest and it's people. He drew from his memories great figures and personalities such as Shereshevski, Shteinberg, Rabbi Butche, and Rabbi Simcha Zelig. He said he had been an official for the Keren Kayemet for over 30 years, and had the privilege of living in his own country, and could not want anything more. He thought for a bit and then said he wanted to tell me about the co-operative movement in Brest in the old days, and that the Briskers were the first to establish this practice. He said he would tell me more about this subject later. He never did as he died a few weeks later.
I also travelled to Ramat Yitzhak to interview the elderly Doba Yaffa. The old lady told me about the Great Synagogue, about her family, about the fortress, about the community leaders, the old cemetery, and her memories of bygone years, but I did not see her again as the old lady passed away. I spent long hours recording what the elderly Levi Yitzhak Winnikoff related to me about Brest officials and personalities, who no longer were alive and had not been granted the privilege of coming to Eretz Israel.
I had the nerve to approach the great professor Albert Einstein who had worked closely with Yakov Gromer as his teacher and co-worker. The great scientist sent me a personal reply and said that he regretted that he had no photo of Gromer. Yitzhak Greenbaum sent me his biographies of Avraham Goldberg and N.Finkelstein from his cell in the British prison at Latrun. The elderly Michael Pochachevsky sent me his interesting memoirs but refused to sent his photo, saying who am I to have my photo in a book about Brest? Friends loaned us articles from the Yiddish press editorials from the Polessie Shtimme, I searched all the references to Brest in the Hebrew press archives: Hamelitz, Hamagid, Ha Yom, Ha Dor, Ha Zman, Ha Tzophe, and Ha Tzphira. We also collected over 200 photographs.
A huge amount of material was collected; everything remained as a collection of works as we were unable to edit the work for publication. Our comrades also lost hope that it would ever appear in book form but then we found a saviour in Chaim Barlas. A native of Brest, Chaim Barlas was the editor of the Encyclopedia of the Diaspora and he made our goal a reality. Praise should be given to the book committee of the Organization of Brest Immigrants in Israel: B. Kastrinski, A. Shtrickman, S. Orchov, M. Neumark who gave their hearts and souls to this project, also A. Zamir, blessed be his memory, who helped a great deal with the collection of material. The many people who helped collect and edit the information M. Zinovitch who gave us valuable information about the rabbis of Brisk D'Lita.
Special thanks should be given to the Brest Relief in New York and the members of its book committee: H.H. Gonsher, Y. Finkelstein, B. Wolsky, Frieluk and others who assisted greatly to make this matter a reality and get this book published.
The Memorial book for our great and famous hometown of Brest, its people, their sufferings and torments, and the tragic demise of the ancient city of Brisk D' Lita.
[Page 707]
Translated by Dr. Samuel Chani and Jenni Buch The first mention of Jews in Brest was in the 14th century, when the first Jews settled on Lithuanian soil. Throughout the generations the city of Brest acquired a special economic, political, and social significance, which it maintained during all of these three periods of the existence of the Jewish community. These periods were defined by the name changes to the city.
The first period was the establishment of the Jewish settlement, whose existence was due to the privileges granted by the king and princes, despite the opposition of the church and the aristocracy. Their persecutions and accusations of ritual blood libel did not stop the commercial and cultural development of the city and it grew and stood at the head of all the Jewish communities of Lithuania. The city produced famous personalities, rabbis and sages. They built yeshivas and synagogues that attracted scholars from many lands.
In the period of the Council of Four Lands, the economic and political importance of Brest rose greatly. This was a bloody period of pogroms in Lithuania and the Ukraine. Over a period of ten terrible years almost the entire population of Brest was murdered only a small number of Jews in the west of the city remained.
Gradually Brest recovered from this great massacre and destruction. The hatred from the Polish townsmen, the harassment, the charges of blood libel from the Catholic and Russian orthodox churches did not cease. The Jews were forced again to seek protection and privileges from the king who obliged willingly in order not to lose his revenue from the taxes and charges that his Jews paid him.
When Jewish autonomy was established in Brest, the city did not lose it's elevated position the stronger the political opposition and economic need, the higher the spiritual walls of the city were strengthened. The rabbis and sages of Brest had great influence over the Jews of the entire nation. In 1796, after the second Polish partition, the city passed into Russian hands and its name was changed to Brest Litovsk.
A new flood of misfortune and troubles was unleashed. Every day brought new persecutions. One of the greatest plagues that befell the city were the fires. No other cities endured and suffered as much from fires as Brest. In a hundred years, there were four large fires (1802, 1825, 1895 and 1901), that caused great destruction and suffering.
Despite all this, the city arose from its ashes and rebuilt its youth. Its strategic position as a junction between Moscow, Kiev, and Warsaw, the two rivers Bug and Mukhavets, on which it was positioned, the reinforced fortress, all combined to create an economic revival and an increase in the number of inhabitants of the city. The Jews were occupied in developing commerce and trade, manufacturing, communications, and supplying the needs of the large military presence in Brest.
In Brest the beginnings of a new culture were felt. Under a banner of conspiratorial secrecy sprouted the first rays of radical thought. The first of the Zionists were the Chovevei Zion (Lovers of Zion), who found a responsive audience in Brest. In 1892 Rabbi Shmuel Maliever passed through on his way to Warsaw and met with Rabbi Joseph Ber Soloveitchik and Rabbi Eliahu Chaim Maizel.
The fame of Brest far transcended its borders many Briskers wandered off to other cities and countries. They participated in the building of Hebrew and Jewish culture. Notable amongst them were: A.L. Feinstein, author of Ir Tehillah, which has not lost its scientific and research value to this day. It is still the greatest single writing about Brest, not counting the two small monographs from the military rabbi of the German prison camp (for prisoners of war) that was written by A Tanzer and A. Kaplan about the destruction of the city during W.W.1. The brothers Moshe and Samuel Minc who belonged to the founding pioneer group BILU that originated in Kharkov and made aliyah to Eretz Israel. The author Dr. Benjamin Shereshevski, a pioneer of the Jewish settlement in Israel, known by his pseudonym Powers of Nature (of which he was the author) and Six Degrees of Science. Senator Dr. Marcus Brodie who was the rabbi in Lodz Poland, an official of the National High School education board, and a founder of the Judaica Institute in Warsaw. Beinish Michalevitch-Itzbitski, a leader of the Bund in Poland. Professor Y.N. Halevi Epstein, historical researcher and lecturer in Hebrew Literature at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. The famous Yiddish novelist Menachem Berisha, who settled in the U.S.A, the writer Benjamin Chaim Reis, author of The Siberian Stories' and Memories of a Wanderer, the actor Mischa Apelboim and many others .
This is how Brisk D' Lita was in the Russian period a city whose people suffered oppressions, troubles, endured fires and wars - survived, but still did not stop radiating life and light. After the First World War, the city entered its third historical period it became the Polish Brzesc nad Bugiem.
The old Jewish residents returned together with newcomers from the surrounding towns. It was the beginning of a superhuman task to rebuild the city from its ruins. The central responsible authority and source of financial assistance was the Joint Organization that built the Warburg Colony (the new model suburb), the orphanage, schools, health organizations, and the Artisans Union building. Gradually a new Jewish community re emerged with a new Jewish identity and pride.
It turned out that the New Poland had learnt nothing from its former history of enslavement. The Polish republic was actually a continuation of the Old Polish Monarchy. In this Poland there was no room for privileges granted to Jews, for further spreading the oral traditions, the legends about Esterke, and Saul Wahl, who was king for one day. The political and economic reality was depressing; the conditions were miserable and insulting. After a short period of liberalism there was a rising militarism from an aggressive and chauvinistic Polish government. In Brest just as in the other towns of the Cressy (former Russian held territories) the authorities began to wipe off any traces of the former Russian rule, eradicating any traces of the Old Russian Regime. This was followed by the Polonization of the soul, the culture, and the economy - the provincial Mayors, Governors, chiefs of police and military leaders executed the chauvinistic policies with a heavy hand.
Their presence in the streets and schools was meant to strengthen the Polish element and weaken the Jewish community. They imposed heavy taxation, distanced the Jews for obtaining government employment, and blocked Jews from getting government projects. The blocking of funds to the Jewish high schools and the erection of modern Polish suburbs isolating the Jewish community further weakened the Jewish community.
Apart from a few, Brest with all its merchants and shopkeepers, tradesmen, artisans, office workers and labourers, was a city of poor people who struggled for their daily existence. The Jewish representatives in the city council were well aware of their opportunity to defend their rights and resist the injustices. The entire Polish administration was riddled with anti Semitism.
Despite all that Brest remained Brest Litovsk - the Jewish Brest with all it's political parties: Zionist, Mizrachi, both branches of Poale Zion, the Unity party and also the Bund. They understood the importance of preserving the purity of their idealistic struggle. The Zionist organization with all its factions was the center of all our social life it did not rule by the power of numbers but by its moral influence on the Brest institutions. It also had economic power in its hands its influence with the Jewish banks, and its moral authority found direction in the Jewish education and schools. The Hebrew High School was officially accredited for university entrance examinations. There was also a trade school run by Ort, a children's orphanage and hostel, and a Jewish hospital and library.
In the last years we saw the gathering clouds over our heads. The horizon darkened but no one could have foreseen the horrible end. However, we were never without the feeling that we were going from one disaster to another spinning downwards. The bloody events of 1937 showed the brutality in frightening detail - the helplessness of the Polish Jews. The day of the terrible destruction arrived the final conflagration in which the entire Jewish population was destroyed in a sacrifice to inhumanity. The executioner's final blow to the beautiful Jewry of Poland, severing 1000 years of Jewish culture.
There is no consolation in revenge.
JewishGen, Inc. makes no representations regarding the accuracy of
the translation. The reader may wish to refer to the original material
for verification.
JewishGen is not responsible for inaccuracies or omissions in the original work and cannot rewrite or edit the text to correct inaccuracies and/or omissions.
Our mission is to produce a translation of the original work and we cannot verify the accuracy of statements or alter facts cited.
Brest Lit(owsk), Belarus Yizkor Book Project JewishGen Home Page
Copyright © 1999-2019 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 6 Jan 2006 by MGH


text:
5 tips to create a personalized shed
Consider these five tips from www.hpba.org:
1. Have a plan: Before you start building your shed, make sure you have a plan in place including theme, budget and goal.
2. Stick to a theme: A craft shed, a relaxation shed, a party shed — choose one theme and tailor all decisions around your theme of choice.
3. Utilize your resources: Build your shed under your favorite tree to offer natural shade or decorate your shed with dried flowers or vines.
4. Less is more: Remember to keep it simple and that you want to have enough room to entertain guests and to hang out in your shed.
5. Remember the exterior: Choose a paint color that goes with your theme. Then invite friends and family over for a day of painting fun in the sun.Green living
Go green with these tech choices
Here are two ways technology can help you live a more eco-friendly lifestyle, according to Lowe's:Control your home's temperature from anywhere. Installing a smart thermostat connected to your home automation system can help reduce your energy costs by 15-30 percent each year. Smart thermostats allow you to program your thermostat based on your daily routine so you can conserve more energy when you aren't at home. This way you're not wasting additional energy heating or cooling an empty space. Water effectively. Unnecessary watering can waste more than 6,000 gallons of water per month. Installing a smart irrigation system can help you avoid unnecessary watering by automating the watering of your lawn based on weather conditions. You can make final adjustments as the season goes on to ensure your lawn stays fresh and your water usage is manageable. Tip of the week
Projects to boost resale price
To boost your home sale and reduce time on the market, consider these ideas to catch buyers' eyes, according to Saniflo.Garage door: According to Remodeling Magazine's 2018 Cost vs. Value report, a garage door replacement recoups 98.3 percent of cost upon resale. Bathroom addition: Basements are an ideal location for bathroom additions. Fresh flooring: Vinyl wood flooring looks incredibly similar to real wood, and modern luxury vinyl tile mimics the look of stone or ceramic tile but is more durable and affordable. Neutral paint: Visit your local paint store and you'll see there are many neutral options to add excitement to interior spaces. Don't forget the ceiling, too! A fresh coat of white can do wonders. DIY
How to simplify DIY projects
Simplify your DIY project with these tips from Post-it.Capitalize on subject matter expertise. A little experience goes a long way, so look to your friends and family to see if any of them have ever completed a project similar to yours. Ask them your questions and learn from their experiences and you'll gain valuable insight about what to do — and what not to do — before your project even gets started. Keep accurate, durable notes. Even a slight miscommunication or lost note can compromise your project.


text: English Subbed Series Gran Hotel Gran Hotel Season 3 Spanish Gran Hotel – Season 3 – Episode 6 – English Subtitles May 17, 2016May 17, 2016 Jess 0 Comment Original Title: Gran Hotel English Title: Grand Hotel Language: Spanish Subtitles: English Genre: Drama, Thriller PLOT 1905. Julio, a young man, arrives at the Grand Hotel, an idyllic place in the middle of the countryside, to investigate the disappearance of his sister. He gets a job as a waiter and comes across the sexy wealthy daughter of the owner. He falls in love with her and starts a dangerous affair while she becomes the only person who will help him to discover the truth about his sister's disappearance. Find out all the secrets and mysteries hidden in the wonderful Grand Hotel. EXTRA INFORMATIONSoon TRAILERS / INTROS Episode 6 Link 1Link 2Link 3 Low Quality Streaming Links External Link 1 External Link 2 COPYRIGHTS NOTES We don't host, own or claim any credit for the videos and the contents indexed in this page, if you are a copyright holder please don't send copyright complaints to us, kindly please forward complaints to the original contents hosters, we only index & embed content found in other websites like YouTube etc much like how Google works. Our job is only to organize & index content found freely on the web to make it easier for users to find it under one roof. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied, WLEXT.net simply acts as a search engine, is not responsible for the content of external websites. Please ensure before sending removal requests that the media in question is actually hosted by WLEXT.net. All the video content found on WLEXT.net is not hosted on our servers nor is created or uploaded by us. The most effective way of protecting your rights is to seek removal from the host that is responsible for the content. This in turn, will remove the content from WLEXT.net and any other search engines that may have indexed the content.


text:
Gravity Says Go Forth and Personalize
Gravity, a service that adapts and personalizes websites by trying to understand visitors' interests, said today that it was opening its platform to any site or app that wants to use it. The Santa Monica, Calif.-based company's software is free and supported by sponsored stories. Competitors include Outbrain.


text:
COLUMBUS, Ohio — Josef Martinez scored his MLS-leading 14th goal of the season, Hector Villalba added a goal in the 82nd minute and Atlanta United beat the Columbus Crew 2-0 on Wednesday night.
Atlanta (10-3-3), the Supporters' Shield leader, handed Columbus (7-4-6) its second loss in its last 16 home games. United also snapped the Crew's nine-game unbeaten streak.
Martinez opened the scoring in the 30th minute by heading home Ezequiel Barco's corner kick. Martinez was injured on the play and was replaced at halftime. Martinez has six goals in the last four games.
Villalba, a second-half sub returning from injury, finished off Atlanta's counter attack by rolling a shot under goalkeeper Zack Steffen.
Steffen had a 525-minute shutout streak snapped. The runs was the eighth longest in MLS history.


text:
The City and the City352
When a murdered woman is found in the city of Beszel, somewhere at the edge of Europe, it looks to be a routine case for Inspector Tyador Borlú of the Extreme Crime Squad. To investigate, Borlú must travel from the decaying Beszel to its equal, rival, and intimate neighbor, the vibrant city of Ul Qoma. But this is a border crossing like no other, a journey as psychic as it is physical, a seeing of the unseen. With Ul Qoman detective Qussim Dhatt, Borlú is enmeshed in a sordid underworld of nationalists intent on destroying their neighboring city, and unificationists who dream of dissolving the two into one. As the detectives uncover the dead woman's secrets, they begin to suspect a truth that could cost them more than their lives. What stands against them are murderous powers in Beszel and in Ul Qoma: and, most terrifying of all, that which lies between these two cities.
Product Details
|Random House Publishing Group
|Publication date:
|Sales rank:
|Product dimensions:
|5.58(w) x 8.38(h) x 0.73(d)
|Age Range:
|14 - 18 Years
About the Author
China Miéville is the author of King Rat; Perdido Street Station, winner of the Arthur C. Clarke Award and the British Fantasy Award; The Scar, winner of the Locus Award and the British Fantasy Award; Iron Council, winner of the Locus Award and the Arthur C. Clarke Award; Looking for Jake, a collection of short stories; and Un Lun Dun, his New York Times bestselling book for younger readers. He lives and works in London.
Read an Excerpt
Chapter One
I could not see the street or much of the estate. We were enclosed by dirt-coloured blocks, from windows out of which leaned vested men and women with morning hair and mugs of drink, eating breakfast and watching us. This open ground between the buildings had once been sculpted. It pitched like a golf course—a child's mimicking of geography. Maybe they had been going to wood it and put in a pond. There was a copse but the saplings were dead.
The grass was weedy, threaded with paths footwalked between rubbish, rutted by wheel tracks. There were police at various tasks. I wasn't the first detective there—I saw Bardo Naustin and a couple of others— but I was the most senior. I followed the sergeant to where most of my colleagues clustered, between a low derelict tower and a skateboard park ringed by big drum-shaped trash bins. Just beyond it we could hear the docks. A bunch of kids sat on a wall before standing officers. The gulls coiled over the gathering.
"Inspector." I nodded at whomever that was. Someone offered a coffee but I shook my head and looked at the woman I had come to see.
She lay near the skate ramps. Nothing is still like the dead are still. The wind moves their hair, as it moved hers, and they don't respond at all. She was in an ugly pose, with legs crooked as if about to get up, her arms in a strange bend. Her face was to the ground.
A young woman, brown hair pulled into pigtails poking up like plants. She was almost naked, and it was sad to see her skin smooth that cold morning, unbroken by gooseflesh. She wore only laddered stockings, one high heel on. Seeing me look for it, a sergeant waved at me from a way off, from where she guarded the dropped shoe.
It was a couple of hours since the body had been discovered. I looked her over. I held my breath and bent down toward the dirt, to look at her face, but I could only see one open eye.
"Where's Shukman?"
"Not here yet, Inspector…"
"Someone call him, tell him to get a move on." I smacked my watch. I was in charge of what we called the mise-en-crime. No one would move her until Shukman the patho had come, but there were other things to do. I checked sightlines. We were out of the way and the garbage containers obscured us, but I could feel attention on us like insects, from all over the estate. We milled.
There was a wet mattress on its edge between two of the bins, by a spread of rusting iron pieces interwoven with discarded chains. "That was on her." The constable who spoke was Lizbyet Corwi, a smart young woman I'd worked with a couple of times. "Couldn't exactly say she was well hidden, but it sort of made her look like a pile of rubbish, I guess." I could see a rough rectangle of darker earth surrounding the dead woman—the remains of the mattress-sheltered dew. Naustin was squatting by it, staring at the earth.
"The kids who found her tipped it half off," Corwi said.
"How did they find her?"
Corwi pointed at the earth, at little scuffs of animal paws.
"Stopped her getting mauled. Ran like hell when they saw what it was, made the call. Our lot, when they arrived..." She glanced at two patrolmen I didn't know.
"They moved it?"
She nodded. "See if she was still alive, they said."
"What are their names?"
"Shushkil and Briamiv."
"And these are the finders?" I nodded at the guarded kids. There were two girls, two guys. Midteens, cold, looking down.
"Yeah. Chewers."
"Early morning pick-you-up?"
"That's dedication, hm?" she said. "Maybe they're up for junkies of the month or some shit. They got here a bit before seven. The skate pit's organised that way, apparently. It's only been built a couple of years, used to be nothing, but the locals've got their shift patterns down. Midnight to nine a.m., chewers only; nine to eleven, local gang plans the day; eleven to midnight, skateboards and rollerblades."
"They carrying?"
"One of the boys has a little shiv, but really little. Couldn't mug a milkrat with it—it's a toy. And a chew each. That's it." She shrugged. "The dope wasn't on them; we found it by the wall, but"— shrug—"they were the only ones around."
She motioned over one of our colleagues and opened the bag he carried. Little bundles of resin-slathered grass. Feld is its street name—a tough crossbreed of Catha edulis spiked with tobacco and caffeine and stronger stuff, and fibreglass threads or similar to abrade the gums and get it into the blood. Its name is a trilingual pun: it's khat where it's grown, and the animal called "cat" in En- glish is feld in our own language. I sniffed it and it was pretty low-grade stuff. I walked over to where the four teenagers shivered in their puffy jackets.
"'Sup, policeman?" said one boy in a Bes-accented approximation of hip-hop English. He looked up and met my eye, but he was pale. Neither he nor any of his companions looked well. From where they sat they could not have seen the dead woman, but they did not even look in her direction.
They must have known we'd find the feld, and that we'd know it was theirs. They could have said nothing, just run.
"I'm Inspector Borlú," I said. "Extreme Crime Squad."
I did not say I'm Tyador. A difficult age to question, this—too old for first names, euphemisms and toys, not yet old enough to be straightforward opponents in interviews, when at least the rules were clear. "What's your name?" The boy hesitated, considered using whatever slang handle he'd granted himself, did not.
"Vilyem Barichi."
"You found her?" He nodded, and his friends nodded after him. "Tell me."
"We come here because, 'cause, and…" Vilyem waited, but I said nothing about his drugs. He looked down. "And we seen something under that mattress and we pulled it off."
"There was some…" His friends looked up as Vilyem hesitated, obviously superstitious.
"Wolves?" I said. They glanced at each other.
"Yeah man, some scabby little pack was nosing around there and…"
"So we thought it…"
"How long after you got here?" I said.
Vilyem shrugged. "Don't know. Couple hours?"
"Anyone else around?"
"Saw some guys over there a while back."
"Dealers?" A shrug.
"And there was a van came up on the grass and come over here and went off again after a bit. We didn't speak to no one."
"When was the van?"
"Don't know."
"It was still dark." That was one of the girls.
"Okay. Vilyem, you guys, we're going to get you some breakfast, something to drink, if you want." I motioned to their guards. "Have we spoken to the parents?" I asked.
"On their way, boss; except hers"—pointing to one of the girls—"we can't reach."
"So keep trying. Get them to the centre now."
The four teens looked at each other. "This is bullshit, man," the boy who was not Vilyem said, uncertainly. He knew that according to some politics he should oppose my instruction, but he wanted to go with my subordinate. Black tea and bread and paperwork, the boredom and striplights, all so much not like the peeling back of that wet heavy, cumbersome mattress, in the yard, in the dark.
Stepen Shukman and his assistant Hamd Hamzinic had arrived. I looked at my watch. Shukman ignored me. When he bent to the body he wheezed. He certified death. He made observations that Hamzinic wrote down.
"Time?" I said.
"Twelve hours-ish," Shukman said. He pressed down on one of the woman's limbs. She rocked. In rigor, and unstable on the ground as she was, she probably assumed the position of her death lying on other contours. "She wasn't killed here." I had heard it said many times he was good at his job but had seen no evidence that he was anything but competent.
"Done?" he said to one of the scene techs. She took two more shots from different angles and nodded. Shukman rolled the woman over with Hamzinic's help. She seemed to fight him with her cramped motionlessness. Turned, she was absurd, like someone playing at dead insect, her limbs crooked, rocking on her spine.
She looked up at us from below a fluttering fringe. Her face was set in a startled strain: she was endlessly surprised by herself. She was young. She was heavily made up, and it was smeared across a badly battered face. It was impossible to say what she looked like, what face those who knew her would see if they heard her name. We might know better later, when she relaxed into her death. Blood marked her front, dark as dirt. Flash flash of cameras.
"Well, hello cause of death," Shukman said to the wounds in her chest.
On her left cheek, curving under the jaw, a long red split. She had been cut half the length of her face.
The wound was smooth for several centimetres, tracking precisely along her flesh like the sweep of a paintbrush. Where it went below her jaw, under the overhang of her mouth, it jagged ugly and ended or began with a deep torn hole in the soft tissue behind her bone. She looked unseeingly at me.
"Take some without the flash, too," I said.
Like several others I looked away while Shukman murmured—it felt prurient to watch. Uniformed mise-en-crime technical investigators, mectecs in our slang, searched in an expanding circle. They overturned rubbish and foraged among the grooves where vehicles had driven. They lay down reference marks, and photographed.
"Alright then." Shukman rose. "Let's get her out of here." A couple of the men hauled her onto a stretcher.
"Jesus Christ," I said, "cover her." Someone found a blanket I don't know from where, and they started again towards Shukman's vehicle.
"I'll get going this afternoon," he said. "Will I see you?" I wagged my head noncommittally. I walked towards Corwi.
"Naustin," I called, when I was positioned so that Corwi would be at the edge of our conversation. She glanced up and came slightly closer.
"Inspector," said Naustin.
"Go through it."
He sipped his coffee and looked at me nervously.
"Hooker?" he said. "First impressions, Inspector. This area,
beat-up, naked? And…" He pointed at his face, her exaggerated makeup. "Hooker."
"Fight with a client?"
"Yeah but…If it was just the body wounds, you know, you'd, then you're looking at, maybe she won't do what he wants, whatever. He lashes out. But this." He touched his cheek again uneasily. "That's different."
"A sicko?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. He cuts her, kills her, dumps her. Cocky bastard too, doesn't give a shit that we're going to find her."
"Cocky or stupid."
"Or cocky and stupid."
"So a cocky, stupid sadist," I said. He raised his eyes, Maybe.
"Alright," I said. "Could be. Do the rounds of the local girls. Ask a uniform who knows the area. Ask if they've had trouble with anyone recently. Let's get a photo circulated, put a name to Fulana Detail." I used the generic name for woman-unknown. "First off I want you to question Barichi and his mates, there. Be nice, Bardo, they didn't have to call this in. I mean that. And get Yaszek in with you." Ramira Yaszek was an excellent questioner. "Call me this afternoon?" When he was out of earshot I said to Corwi, "A few years ago we'd not have had half as many guys on the murder of a working girl."
"We've come a long way," she said. She wasn't much older than the dead woman.
"I doubt Naustin's delighted to be on streetwalker duty, but you'll notice he's not complaining," I said.
"We've come a long way," she said.
"So?" I raised an eyebrow. Glanced in Naustin's direction. I waited. I remembered Corwi's work on the Shulban disappearance, a case considerably more Byzantine than it had initially appeared.
"It's just, I guess, you know, we should keep in mind other possibilities," she said.
"Tell me."
"Her makeup," she said. "It's all, you know, earths and browns. It's been put on thick, but it's not—" She vamp-pouted. "And did you notice her hair?" I had. "Not dyed. Take a drive with me up GunterStrász, around by the arena, any of the girls' hangouts. Two-thirds blonde, I reckon. And the rest are black or bloodred or some shit. And…" She fingered the air as if it were hair. "It's dirty, but it's a lot better than mine." She ran her hand through her own split ends.
For many of the streetwalkers in Bes´zel, especially in areas like this, food and clothes for their kids came first; feld or crack for themselves; food for themselves; then sundries, in which list conditioner would come low. I glanced at the rest of the officers, at Naustin gathering himself to go.
"Okay," I said. "Do you know this area?"
"Well," she said, "it's a bit off the track, you know? This is hardly even Bes´zel, really. My beat's Lestov. They called a few of us in when they got the bell. But I did a tour here a couple years ago—I know it a bit."
Lestov itself was already almost a suburb, six or so k out of the city centre, and we were south of that, over the Yovic Bridge on a bit of land between Bulkya Sound and, nearly, the mouth where the river joined the sea. Technically an island, though so close and conjoined to the mainland by ruins of industry you would never think of it as such, Kordvenna was estates, warehouses, low-rent bodegas scribble-linked by endless graffiti. It was far enough from Bes ´zel's heart that it was easy to forget, unlike more inner-city slums.
"How long were you here?" I said.
"Six months, standard. What you'd expect: street theft, high kids smacking shit out of each other, drugs, hooking."
"Two or three in my time. Drugs stuff. Mostly stops short of that, though: the gangs are pretty smart at punishing each other without bringing in ECS."
"Someone's fucked up then."
"Yeah. Or doesn't care."
"Okay," I said. "I want you on this. What are you doing at the moment?"
"Nothing that can't wait."
"I want you to relocate for a bit. Got any contacts here still?" She pursed her lips. "Track them down if you can; if not, have a word with some of the local guys, see who their singers are. I want you on the ground. Listen out, go round the estate—what's this place called again?"


text:
Vacheron Constantin Overseas 42042/423A-8872
This Vacheron Constantin has undergone a thorough inspection of water resistance, accuracy, functionality and condition to determine the level of reconditioning required to meet our strict standards. It has also been referenced against technical documents and manufacturer records where available to ensure authenticity and a clean history.
Product Description
|Approx. 15 years
|Case size
|Case material
|Bracelet material
|Dial type
|White Baton
|Water resistance
|150 metres
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text:
Stories about "Song from the Southern Seas"
Global Lens series continues with Kazakh film Song from the Southern Seas
Thursday, October 29, 2009 12:21 pm
The Global Lens film series at Bates College continues with "Song from the Southern Seas," by Kazakhstani director Marat Sarulu, in 8 p.m. showings on Friday, Nov. 6, and Sunday, Nov. 8, in Room 105, Olin Arts Center, 75 Russell St. Hosted by the Bates College Museum of Art, the series continues throughout the fall. Admission is $5. "Song from the Southern Seas" (80 min.) is in Russian with English subtitles.


text:
[Page 99]
by David Meir Appel, Bnei Brak
Only One in a city and two in a family[1] remained, scattered and dispersed throughout the earth, who are able to tell to the camp that survived about who were the spiritual leaders and the ordinary Jews of that holy community.
Our town occupied an honorable place among the hundreds of Jewish cities and towns that were in Romania at that time, even though Halmeu was small and its Jewish population did not exceed 400. Its was known throughout the world thanks to the renowned Admorim who served in its rabbinate.
Rabbi Eliahu Klein of holy blessed memory, the son of the Gaon Rabbi Shmelka of Selish, the author of the book Tzror Hachayim [Bonds of Life] and the son-in-law of the author of Yeriot Shlomo the head of the rabbinical court of Okeve of holy blessed memory, served as the rabbi of Halmeu and the district for 50 years with love and devotion to the individual and the community, to the private and the public. He died at an old age on Rosh Chodesh Shvat 5690 (1930).
After him, his son Rabbi Yaakov Klein of holy blessed memory was appointed as the rabbi. Yaakov arrived whole[2] to our town from the city of Grosswardein (Oradea), where he had served as the head of the rabbinical court. He was the son-in-law of the Gaon Rabbi Binyamin Fuchs, the head of the rabbinical court of that place, and the author of Yad Ramah, may his merit protect us. The rabbi strengthened the religious life of the town. He conducted a Yeshiva in which 120 G-d fearing, wholesome youths, who had come from Jewish communities from around the country, studied. They studied Gemara, rabbinical decisors, and Jewish law in great depth, day and night, with love and with respect to one's fellow man.
The householders of the community willingly took upon themselves the support of the Yeshiva lads. Some of them provided meals one day a week to twenty or more lads,
[Page 100]
and to those of minimal means. The Talmud Torahs operated in accordance to their schedules. As was customary, examinations took place every Sabbath with the participation of the parents of the students. The examinations were given by choice men of the city who were invited by the trustee of the Talmud Torah. How can we describe the joy of the parents and the teachers over the success of the students in giving the correct answers during these examinations?
The synagogues and Beis Midrashes [houses of study] conducted public classes with the participation of the broad community. The Admor, may his merit protect us, gave a class in Gemara and Tosafot every night to the householders. Every Sabbath eve and Sabbath, they completed the Book of Psalms with a minyan, after immersing in the mikva [ritual bath] that was next to the synagogue.
A charitable fund was set up to assist those in need, for mutual assistance is not merely a commandment between man and G-d, but also between man and his fellow for the poor person also assists the householder by accepting the assistance[3]. For example, the parents of the writer of these lines were working people, who lived from the toil of their hands, and more than once I was a witness to my mother of blessed memory giving her portion to a poor person who requested lunch.
Over these do I weep my eyes, my eyes drop water[4], for the natives of the holy communities filled with spirituality, Torah, and the fear of Heaven who were murdered and destroyed cruelly by the German enemy, may their names be blotted out. We can only comfort ourselves in that we, the few survivors who emanated from the town, follow in their footsteps. We survivors must tell our sons and daughters about that which the Amalek of our generation perpetrated upon us, how the Jewish street suffused with religion and the fear of heaven was destroyed, about the atmosphere on the Sabbath and festivals, about the synagogues that were filled with worshippers and Torah studiers, about the Jewish homes with the pure tables.
We must toil until the religious life of our town returns, so that that those coming after us continue to cleave to the ways of Torah and commandments in order to perpetuate the tradition. The young generation will be a renewal of the old generation as is written about Abraham our Forefather of blessed memory, So that he will command his children and household after him[5], meaning that even after his death, his children will continue in the life of Torah and commandments. This is the chain of the generations that binds us, and is termed historical continuity and the perpetuation of holy communities, including my shtetl Halmeu, which were annihilated by our enemies, may their names be blotted out who transported entire families of our martyrs, the beloved of our souls, to slaughter. Their souls left in holiness and purity in sanctification of the Divine Name, as their lips commanded, Remember, and do not forget.
Translator's Footnotes
[Page 101]
by Eliezer Zicherman
Our father of blessed memory, David Zicherman,
The tragic passing of our father and his family of blessed memory left a great void in our hearts and in the hearts of hundreds of his friends and acquaintances from our town of Halmeu. The pain and grief will not be quickly erased.
Throughout all the years that he lived in the aforementioned city, approximately from 1905, he was involved with all his energy in the helping of the poor and needy by giving secretly, and he occupied himself faithfully in communal affairs.
He took upon many roles in communal affairs. He served as the trustee of the Sandek-Avot organization for many years. That organization was founded to help needy parents bring their baby boys into the covenant of Abraham our Forefather, and offered full assistance in that matter.
Similarly, he was a trustee in the Malbish Arumim [Clothing the Naked] organization, whose purpose was to assist poor families and families with many children. Indeed, a great deal of clothing was distributed in the wintertime so that the poor children could continue to study without interruption.
He served as a trustee in the Talmud Torah for many years, which was under the leadership of Reb Aharon Kahane of blessed memory. Students from all strata studied there, and the teachers received their salary from the organization. On the Cemetery Road, there was a special building for the Talmud Torah along with a fine Beis Midrash, which was under the leadership of Reb Chaim Klein and Reb Gavriel Traub. A significant portion of the cream of the crop of the personalities of Halmeu worshipped in that Beis Midrash.
It is appropriate to mention the prominent educators, such as Reb Yitzchak Klein of blessed memory, Reb Asher Leib of blessed memory, Reb Yosef Katz of blessed memory, Reb Meir Hirsch of blessed memory who was later appointed as the shochet of Kökényesd, Reb Leib of blessed memory of Turcz, Reb Zev Pfeffer of blessed memory, Reb Tzvi Freidman of blessed memory, Reb Zanwil Farkas of blessed memory of Bătarci, and Reb Tzvi Lebovich of blessed memory. All of them were great in Torah, and all of them perished in the Holocaust, may G-d avenge their blood.
He was active as a trustee of the Chevra Kadisha for decades. He spared no energy to fulfill his role in the commandment of true kindness, which comes with no expectation of reward. Father of blessed memory had a large family, and he would go day and night to fulfill the final act of kindness despite the preoccupations with earning a livelihood. The Chevra Kadisha also maintained a pharmacy and physician for those in need. Any needed help was offered in return for a signature of the Chevra.
I recall several other active leaders of the Chevra Kadisha, such as Reb Yosef Hendler, Reb Yaakov Alek, Reb Yisrael Merovich, Reb Yechiel Tzvi
[Page 102]
Fisher, Reb Mordechai Simcha Blau, Reb Matityahu Gross, Reb Meir Braun, Reb Efraim Kramer, Reb Shmelke Jeremias, and others.
Throughout a period of 25 years, a group that was called in its time The Eighteen Individuals was in charge of the Great Synagogue. The following people served in rotation as gabbaim [trustees] of the Great Synagogue: Reb Yitzchak Meir Salomon of blessed memory, Reb Meshulam Payish Weiss of blessed memory, Reb Meir Braun of blessed memory, Reb Shmelke Mandel of blessed memory, and others.
I wish to note the following as chairmen of the leadership of the synagogue: Reb Moshe Jeremias of blessed memory, Reb Yisrael Marmelstein of blessed memory, Reb Meir Roth of blessed memory, Reb Meir Gotlieb of blessed memory, Reb Yosef Rozeth of blessed memory, and Reb Baruch Katina of blessed memory. All of them have fine character traits, and were suited for these important positions in our city of Halmeu.
In addition to the aforementioned, the following people also served in the leadership: Reb Alter Landau of blessed memory, Reb Baruch Hendler of blessed memory, his son Reb Tzvi Hendler of blessed memory, his brother Reb Yosef Hendler of blessed memory, Reb Moshe Steinberger of blessed memory, Reb Daniel Rotstein of blessed memory, Reb Asher Lemel Steinberger of blessed memory, and Reb Betzalel Friedman of blessed memory. All of these form only a small portion of those who worked in the communal leadership to raise the level of Torah and fear of G-d in the city.
I do not forget the successful activities and modesty of my father of blessed memory. You are remembered with every step and move, for your image and the image of all the martyrs of Halmeu are before our eyes. We do not forget you for a moment. You still walk before our eyes…
We recall your fruitful work and your good deeds deeds that are etched upon the tablet of our hearts. You, especially my dear father of blessed memory, served for us an example of how to carry out the roles we have taken on.
Everything is empty without the positive personality of the rabbi and Gaon Rabbi Yaakov Shalom Klein of holy blessed memory, who loved peace and pursued peace. All the residents of Halmeu, whether the Hassidim of Satmar and Spinka, or whether the Ashkenazim, knew how to give him the appropriate honor. He led a large Yeshiva, and disseminated Torah in public. The closeness was such that the rabbi served as the sandek of my brother who lives in Ashdod, Reb Yaakov Zicherman. My brother Eliahu was named after the father of the rabbi, of holy blessed memory.
The shochtim [ritual slaughterers] Reb Eliahu Markovich, Reb Aharon and Reb Yaakov, the son-in-law of Reb Berish of Wyszo, also come before our eyes. Who does not remember their pleasant prayers, especially on the festivals and the High Holy Days.
I wish to recall as well Reb Shlomo Glick, who served in holiness as a scholar
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and a fearer of Heaven. Similarly, it is my duty to recall my dear uncle Reb Avraham Yekutiel Farkas of blessed memory, who was known for his intelligence and tasteful sense of humor. His wife Hinda, their daughter Feiga, and their only son all perished in the Holocaust, may G-d avenge their blood. Similarly, I must recall Reb Eliahu Schwartz and his righteous wife who observed the commandment of entertaining guests and whose hand was extended to the poor.
Woe over those who have been lost and who will not be forgotten!
In the name of the family: Mordechai Zicherman and family, Yisrael Zicherman and family, Eliezer Zicherman and family, Yaakov Zicherman and family, Eliahu Zicherman and family, Beila Zicherman and family.
Reb Wolf Leib Farkas of blessed memory was born in Turcz in 1894 to his father Reb Yisrael, a pure, upright Jew who was a dedicated teacher of young children. He imparted a religious education to his son. He studied in the Yeshiva of Halmeu and later in Pressburg. There, he acquired Torah and knowledge. Later, he completed his education in Vienna, including in business.
He was a successful and honored merchant in Halmeu. Aside from the grocery store that he managed, he opened a wholesale grain warehouse, and remained in constant contact with the authorities.
With the conquest of Halmeu by the Hungarians in October 1940, he was among the first who was arrested as a political suspect. He was tortured harshly. On Yom Kippur, when the Jews of Halmeu were sitting in the synagogues worshipping, he was forced to clean the offices and washrooms of the town council and the streets of the town.
From there, he was transferred to Ungvar [Uzhorod]. There, he was interrogated with even more cruel torments and sentenced to ten years in jail with no iniquity on his part. He was imprisoned in the infamous jail on Hunti Street in Budapest. In 1944, when Szálasi[1] took over the government, he was transferred to the Dachau death camp[2] after four years of imprisonment. He was liberated in Theriesenstadt, and returned home in 1945 sick, without energy, broken, crushed, thin to the bones, and supported by crutches.
He was very happy to see his two sons who were already waiting for him. However, the
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distressing news that his third son had perished in the camp caused him deep anguish.
After he succeeded in laying the foundations and rebuilding his destroyed house, he stood at the right of anyone in need who turned to him for help. In 1946, when a hachshara farm was set up temporarily in Halmeu for chalutzim [Zionist pioneers], it received maximal support from him.
He made aliya in 1951. In Israel, he endured the most difficult stages of acclimatization, but he accepted them with love due to his great dedication to the Land. Later, the Hungarian barbarism left its marks, and his health declined from day to day.
His oldest son Tzvi made aliya at the end of 1958, but he was unable to acclimatize to the conditions of Israel, and died a sudden death. His father was not informed due to his severe illness and weakness.
Two months later, he too died, and was buried in the cemetery in Haifa. They repose eternally one next to the other, for he was buried next to the grave of his oldest son.
May their souls be bound in the bonds of eternal life.
Translator's Footnotes
My father of blessed memory, Reb Gavriel Traub, was born in a small town in Poland in 1994 to a family of minimal means. Already then, he set his steps with those who loved Torah with the ways of the world. Thus, my father studied carpentry along with Torah.
He came to Vienna, the capital of Austria-Hungary, at a young age, but he quickly realized that Vienna endangered the fear of Heaven, so he decided to move to the city of Sighet, the capital of Maramures, a city with a Jewish spiritual life. Sighet was near Halmeu.
Through the Kahane family who had already settled in Halmeu, and who had met him by chance, he was proposed a match with the daughter of the shochet Rabbi Moshe Aharon of Bixad, an honorable family.
[Page 105]
Thanks to this, he was considered special amongst the Hungarian Jews, who were still not ready to teach their children a trade lest they, Heaven forbid, lower their spiritual level. He was an example, since both Torah and the ways of the world coexisted with him.
My parents settled in Halmeu in 1904, built a home, and set up a family. I was the fourth of eight children who were born to my parents in the following order: Reizel, Beila, Hershel, I Mendel, Menashe, Chaya, Moshe and David.
We began our studies in cheder. Of course, we also studied in public school alongside our studies in cheder. We studied in school in the forenoon and afternoons. In the morning, and during the vacation times, we studied in cheder until we got older. Later, my father concerned himself with teaching us, including the girls, a trade, so that we would all be able to earn our livelihoods when the time came, without abandoning the study of Torah that was blended with secular studies. My parents' entire concern was devoted to our education, to the fear of Heaven albeit not in an extreme fashion, to becoming a person who believes and who works.
When I was 15 years old, my parents began to think about the Land of Israel, and I was the first from among the children who was chosen to become a pioneer. However, we will deal with this later.
With time, my father advanced in all areas of livelihood, sustenance, a good name, and honor. He set up a carpentry shop in which many apprentices from our town learned the trade. He owned the only furniture shop in the town. My father was one of the founders of the Kehilat Yaakov Synagogue, and served for a period as the gabbai. Later, he became the chairman of the JOINT, which was headquartered in the nearby city of Satmar. Anyone who wanted to obtain a loan from the JOINT had to be approved by my father. Who would he not certify? Even if there was a danger that the person would not be able to repay, and there would be a matter of personal honor, he would only think about how he could help the needy. Here, I must mention my mother, who did not pale behind my father in good deeds. From the time we started to speak our first words, and our speech was not yet clear, she already taught us to recite the Shema before sleep and Modeh Ani as we opened our eyes in the morning. She was a modest, good hearted woman, who was loved by all her neighbors. She did not know the word no. If she ever did not have the item that a neighbor wished to borrow from her, she would show everything that she did have in order to prove that she indeed did not have the item, lest Heaven forbid they suspect her of not wishing to give. Here is not the place to detail all of her traits, from giving discreetly, promoting household peace for others, gathering women together to read the Book of Lamentations on the night of Tisha BeAv, and other good deeds.
As is written: Jacob our forefather wishes to dwell in peace and tranquility, and
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the tribulation of Joseph came upon him[1]. Thus was it with my parents. When they wished to enjoy a bit and to derive a bit of contentment from the fruits of their labor, they were unable to do so..
First of all, the decline in the economic situation reduced their livelihood. We began to think about moving to a larger city, and even about aliya to the Land of Israel, but this was impossible. As I had mentioned, I was chosen as the pioneer to prepare to make aliya, with the intention of bringing everyone else along afterward. Then I left the house and went to hachshara with the Agudas Yisroel movement in the central city of Cluj. My parents were forced to leave the town, and they moved to Satmar, a larger city with more possibilities. Two brothers studied in Yeshiva, and the sisters were forced to work for their livelihoods. This was the time of the ascent of Hitler, may his name be blotted out, to the government.
Only my sister and my young brother remained in my parents' home. The rest of the children had already left the house. This was the year 1941. The Hungarians entered Transylvania under order of Hitler (at that time, the area of Transylvania was claimed by Hungary and Romania). As their first action to endear themselves to the Germans, they gathered a transport of 1,500 Jews whose only sin was that they were not born in Hungary, despite the international agreement after the First World War, of which my father was also part of, that granted the rights of permanent residency in the place. The Jews were transported in closed cars across the Polish border, where they were left with only the clothes on their backs.
It was the beginning of the era of the ghetto in Poland. Nobody took any interest in the deported Jews. Without any recourse, they began to wander to wherever their feet would take them. After many attacks by robbers, thieves, and ordinary villagers, they began to disperse to various families as they searched for refuge. My parents with my 14 year old sister Chaya and my 12 year old brother David set out for my father's native town with the hope of still finding some relatives that they could stay with, or at least to locate in a place that was familiar to my father. The distance was great. Jews were forbidden to travel by train, even if they would be able to pay the price. If they went by foot, there would be a danger of the attacks by those who lay in ambush for them. However, with no choice, they began to make the journey by foot, with their only escort being G-d in Heaven. Hungry and weak, they arrived in my father's native village of Monasterzhyska after indescribable wanderings over mountains and valleys. To their fortune, they were able to still find two sisters of my father who lived in hiding in a bunker, and somehow, they got set up there. This was the time of the beginning of the gathering of Jews of Poland into ghettos through the auspices of the Judenrat. My parents, who were not on any local list of Jews, were considered abandoned. Nobody paid attention to them. They lived in that manner for an entire year. The relatives were forced to leave that location. They earned their livelihood by helping villagers in the field in return for some potatoes.
In the meantime, we in Hungary felt a certain degree of relief with the change of government, and we were able to obtain papers for my father, who was a Hungarian citizen. There was
[Page 107]
no need for such for my mother, for she was born in the area of Transylvania. She had only joined my father because she did not want to part from him in such a situation. Due to the constant connection that we maintained, especially through my older sister by mail, we informed them that if they could return, we had citizenship papers for them.
Thus, the four of them began to think about a way to return. This was not simple, however. They required a certificate from the Judenrat (the Jewish organization set up by the Nazis to carry out their policies, including collecting the property of the Jews and being the intermediary for all decrees) stating that they were not local residents. They refused to give this for a strange reason that is hard to believe by those who did not live through those times. The Judenrat wanted a sum of money for the certificate, and did not believe that they did not have the sum (the Judenrat used the money for the needs of the community), but rather thought that they were exaggerating their situation in this case. Finally, when their situation worsened along with that of my parents, they gave them the certificate stating that they were Hungarian citizens. They turned themselves toward the Hungarian border, but they were lacking many things, such as money for the journey and a means of transportation.
It was forbidden for a Jew to tarry in any place without a permit, but my parents did not have much to lose. They set out again with their sole escort in Heaven who accompanied them on all their ways. They gathered my father's tallis and tefillin, several changes of clothing and other moveable objects that they could grab, and set out on their journey. They set out on a tortuous journey and slept in forests and abandoned houses, until my mother became ill. Her feet swelled up and she could not carry on without rest and care. They had gone half the way. A three day journey by horse and buggy lay between them and the border. The decree of deportation had not yet reached this village. There were several Jews there who would not let them stay over more than one night unless they received a special permit from the district commander.
The villagers warned my father not to go to the commander, for he was an evil man. My father decided to go nevertheless, for he had nothing more to lose, and G-d has the power to melt rocks, and even more so, humans. Indeed, a miracle occurred during his brief discussion with the commander. Among the many questions that he asked him, the commander asked him how he could prove that he was indeed born there and that he had some connection to Poland. My father remembered that among the few papers that remained, he had an identity tag from the First World War that was the sole item that could identify him. When the commander read the content of the tag, he suddenly called to my father, We were in the same brigade! Within a moment, the evil man tuned into a friend, and gave my father more than he requested. In the certificate that he received, the commander wrote that he could move about freely and sleep anywhere for an unrestricted time until they recovered, and they would have the energy to resume the journey. After two weeks, with the help of the people of the village and with the help of the possessions that they gave the wagon driver, they continued their journey toward the Hungarian border.
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Not everything had ended with this. They required a guide to transfer them over the border in darkness and to go over the high mountain. As my mother of blessed memory said, If only we could reach the top, the descent will be easier. However, it was the opposite the descent was more difficult than the ascent. However, this is not the place to elaborate. They reached Hungarian territory at the beginning of the Sabbath. The only way that they could avoid falling into the hands of the gendarmes before they received their papers was to travel by train on the Sabbath in order to distance themselves from the border.
The children indeed did this in order to reach us quickly so that they could bring them the papers. But they themselves did not, for they said, Is it possible to violate the Sabbath after the Holy One Blessed Be He helped us through the dangerous journey? They spent the Sabbath even in the home of a Jew, but they had to go out on the street at dawn on the Sabbath day, and of course they were captured. This time, they did not admit that they had come from across the border. They were transferred to the Hungarian capital, and we began to work for their liberation. They freed my mother immediately, but they placed my father in a camp for foreign citizens called International. I had been drafted into a work camp, and by coincidence, our camp was located in that area. Thus, I was able to see my father for the last time.
Their faith had not been weakened even by one hairbreadth after all these wanderings. In a brief conversation that I had with my mother during that time, I dared to tell her that for the first time in my life I began to have doubts, after all that they had gone through. Since they had dedicated their lives to the name of Heaven, I regard the tribulations that they endured as unjust. She did not get angry. She laughed and told me, It is only now that I believe with full faith, for without the help of G-d, we would not have succeeded in returning. This is the greatest miracle that G-d performed for us.
It was possible to think that everything had ended with this, but this is not what fate had in store. In the interim, my father had been liberated from the camp of aliens, and the four of them were again together in one house my parents, my sister, and my brother who had reached the age of 13 and put on tefillin for the first time under the cover of the skies on the return trip from Poland. The general edict of deportation of the years 1942/1943 met up with them, and they were sent to Auschwitz[2]. Along with all the Jews of Hungary, they were taken straight to Auschwitz in closed train cars. My parents never returned from this final journey, but my sister and brother, who had already known suffering and tribulations from their first journey, were able to endure the difficulties of Auschwitz, and they survived in order to tell us and everyone else who would come after us about what the Nazis perpetrated without any restraint. They increased our Jewish pride to struggle for our homeland and our existence.
Translator's Footnotes
by Rabbi Yeshayahu Barkai (Berkovitz), Massachusetts, United States
From across the screen of days long past, the era of my childhood and youth constantly rise up and float before me anew. Memories such as these that are close to the heart of man seem as if they had just taken place, and as if the writer is talking only in the present tense. I recall those days, the days of transition from childhood to youth, the days of the destruction of our holy town in which we studied Torah, the Talmud Torah, the study of Torah in the room of the large Yeshiva from the mouth of our holy teacher and rabbi, Rabbi Yaakov Shalom the son of the holy rabbi Rabbi Eliahu, may G-d avenge his blood, may his holy memory be a blessing. His merit should forever stand with us and with all of Israel, Amen.
In the year 5704 from the creation of the world, as we hoped for salvation and comfort in accordance with the prophesy of the Prophet Jeremiah For Jacob there will be joy, etc. but it turned to agony, and the groaning turned to weeping and screaming, as all the many unparalleled evil tribulations fell upon us and our souls, upon our sons and daughters, on our elderly and youths, from large to small, when the brazen gentiles rose up against us, the bitter Hungarian and German nations, and poured out their wrath upon the heads of the Jews who were given over to mockery and disgrace, and to acts of murder and destruction. They cruelly murdered children, women, youths and elderly. They had no mercy on babies and nurslings, and no pity for pregnant women. They murdered until there was no remnant or survivor. As if from behind a heavy, thick cloud, I recall these events that overtook me during the childhood years of a long time ago. However the impressions of these events return and rise up with extra clarity, as if they took place just yesterday, as they are preserved in my heart and as I witnessed them with my flesh.
I will utter a dirge with weeping for these righteous, pure, holy ones.
I will lament, tell and wail / lament oh worthy gathering / my heart, lament and wail/ for I received my wounds / garbed in fear / remnants were pillaged / from their heads came down / the large golden crown / friends and comrades touched by the inheritance / for these I moan / for I have been a victim / and my eyes are a source of tears / and I will weep day and night / my cries of despair will grow louder / for children met their destruction / destruction upon destruction / murder and annihilation / they murdered and cut off your nation / those who received your word at Sinai / who call out to your name, G-d / the voice of the crowd / of many in all areas / sanctify G-d the king / located in the king's palace / with joy and gladness / the way of their merit / and also their righteousness / will stand for their descendents / forever Selah.
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Dear. Mr. Schwartz, greetings and blessings!
From the first memorial of the martyrs of Halmeu, your fine and enthusiastic words that you delivered from the podium are etched in my mind. We remember the past with pain and sorrow, but also with satisfaction and willingness. I still see Halmeu before the eyes of my spirit as if in a dream the residence of my dear parents, brothers and sisters, from where they were sent with harsh tortures to the death camps, and they perished in Auschwitz during the terrible Holocaust.
I recall with spiritual satisfaction the holy souls of my dear, unforgettable parents and relatives. In my opinion, the current obligation is to perpetuate all the martyrs of Halmeu by publishing a memorial book, so that the memory of the holy community will not be forgotten, and will strike roots in the hearts of our sons and daughters, so that they will continue to live by those eternal, holy values that were imparted to us by the martyrs of Halmeu.
In this memorial book, I wish to perpetuate the names of my dear parents as well as my three brothers who fell victim to the Nazi inferno.
The name of my father was Reb Yosef Weiss. He was a soap manufacturer, and that was his nickname in order to differentiate him from other Jews whose family name was Weiss. Our family had five children three brothers and two sisters. To my great sorrow, none of my dear brothers returned. The two sisters, however, merited with the help of G-d to make aliya to the Land.
My oldest brother, Menachem Mendel of blessed memory, first studied in cheder in Halmeu. Later, he excelled in his expertise and diligence as a student in the Yeshiva of Tăşnad until the period before we were transferred to the Selish Ghetto. Then he was interned in a Labor Camp. He then transferred to Gunskirchen, where he gave up his holy soul with the words of Shema on his lips.
My brother Mordechai of blessed memory studied in the high level Yeshiva in Halmeu with unusual diligence. Day and night, early and late, he sat in studying Torah and involving himself in Divine service until the time of the deportation. My youngest brother continued his studies in the Hebrew High School in Satmar, which was founded in the period prior to the Holocaust.
I still recall how happy my father of blessed memory was when he returned from Satmar after his teacher Shkasgi praised him for his fine achievements and promised him a
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bright future. However, with our great sins, fate was cruel to us, and Auschwitz put an end to all his plans. I recall the difficult struggle and hesitation of my father of blessed memory, for he regarded Yeshiva studies as the sole proper path for his sons. Nevertheless, he did not force his opinion upon them, and he left the choice in his hands.
That we, his two daughters, continued to study in the Gymnasium was a natural and self-understood thing in the eyes of my parents.
In my opinion, it is our duty to perpetuate our dear parents and to etch their names in gold letters, since they dedicated themselves and worked so hard in order to ensure the education of their five children in the faithful spirit of Judaism.
I must note that the spirit in which our parents educated us will accompany us all the days of our lives. We will continue in the same path, from which we will not depart right or left. We will continue in this spirit and path with the help of G-d, may he be blessed, to educate our children as well. Thereby, we will guard their dear memory forever and for all generations.
May their memories be blessed!
|In honor and respect
Margalit Perl Weiss
From Hungarian: Sh. Y.
(biographical notes)
by Rabbi Yeshayahu Barkai (Berkovitz),
a rabbi and school principal, Massachusetts, United States
He[1] was born in the town of Halmeu, Transylvania, Romania on Rosh Chodesh Kislev 5672 (1912) to his father Reb Dov HaLevi and his mother Rivka Spiegel, a native of Halmeu. (She was murdered on the day of the giving of the Torah[2] 5704 (1944) along with her daughter Chana and her seven children in the Auschwitz camp by the Nazis, may their names be blotted out.)
He received his first knowledge in studies at the Talmud Torah (cheder) in the town of Halmeu from scholarly and G-d fearing teachers such as Rabbi Yitzchak, Rabbi Hirsch Meir, Rabbi Meir Teitelbaum of holy blessed memory, and others. At the age of 12, he was accepted to the Yeshiva of Halmeu, where he studied for about four years. He also learned for a brief period with Rabbi Eliezer David Greenwald of holy blessed memory in the Satmar Yeshiva. From there, he transferred to Klausenberg at the age of 17, where he studied for five years in the Yeshiva that was under the leadership of the head of the rabbinical court Rabbi Peretz Stroli and the rabbi of the city at that time Rabbi Akiva Glezner of holy blessed memory. He also attended classes at the Jewish Gymnasium of Klausenberg, where he gained knowledge in the Hebrew language, Jewish history, and other subjects.
He moved to the Romanian capital of Bucharest in 1933, where he served as the rabbi of the Tailors Synagogue. He then received an appointment to the Choral Temple (Templul Coral) in Bucharest. He registered at the seminary for teachers and rabbis under the leadership of the late Rabbi Dr. B. Reicher. He was examined and ordained as a rabbi and teacher.
He made aliya to Israel in 1950, where he received an appointment as a teacher and principal at the Ch. M. D. School. He participated in courses for school principals offered by the Ministry of Education and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and was certified as a principal and organizer of elementary schools.
In 1958, he was appointed by the Jewish Agency as an emissary of the Torah education and culture department for Algeria and France.
He moved to America in 1962, where he serves to today as a rabbi and school principal.
[Unnumbered page following page 109a]
|Rabbi Yeshayahu Barkai, formerly the principal of the
M. D. School in Israel, today serving as a rabbi
and school principal in Boston, United States
|Reb Dov HaLevi Berko[3] and his wife Rivka of blessed memory
|Reb Tzvi Weiss and his wife Rachel of blessed memory (Cidreag)
Translator's Footnotes
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for verification.
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text:
Randy Richards is the author of Dreadmire .
In 1998 he published Dark Magic in New Orleans for Dungeon magazine #71 (TSR), and in 2005 his book "Dreadmire" (ISBN 0977338339) a campaign setting for the d20 system, was published by Spellbinder Games . Prior to being a published author, Randy Richards was a writer of fan adventures, such as Suel Imperium: Age of Glory.[1] An interview with Randy appeared in InRegister Magazine in February of 2009.[2]
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