I was born on the eve of WW1. From childhood, I witnessed the changes of regime and era that affected us deeply. Tzarist Russia with its failing and oppressive regime was over! It was rightly said to resemble a huge body with a small head dangling from corruption, decay, and degeneration.

Poles, Lithuanians, Latvians, Ukrainians, Belarussians, etc, woke up to independence and each wishing to bite a piece of the dying Tzarist Russia. Between the biting teeth were the Jews at the mercy of others on the one hand, and with the hope for a future of freedom on the other hand.

Like through a fog I remember the leftovers of the Tzar’s regime, personified in the figure of the uradnik [village policeman] with wide side-locks. I also remember well the events of 1917 revolution.

We four-year-olds imitated the adults. I remember making a play burial of the photo of Tzar Nikolai II. The photo was taken down from the wall of the school and was carried by the children to a hole in the ground we prepared. We buried it there while shouting in Russian Be gone, Tzar Nikolai! to the laughter of the teachers.

The Jewish community lost its balance for the moment. Many were trapped by the slogans of freedom for all nations that echoed in public. They were naïve to think that with the end of the Tzarist regime, the walls of discrimination, hatred, and oppression would fall and the Jews would enjoy complete equal rights. Bitter disappointment was ahead.

Kerensky’s rule turned out fluctuating and weak. Chaos increased. The German invader took advantage of the hour of weakness, broke through the front lines, and –  in a torrent – invaded Russia.

Until then, the neighboring front line (Darova-Barnovitz) was stable for a few years. Many thought of the German onslaught as a way out of total anarchy, at least. Nobody could foresee what they did 20 years later.

The appearance of the Germans in our surroundings in 1918 saved our people from hunger and from looting and pogroms that occurred in other districts inside Russia under local officers, leftovers of the Tzar’s regime, generals of the White Guard: Denikin, Wrangel, and others.

The same happened especially in Ukraine under the bloody rule of Patliura.

Bolshevist revolution broke out and the Soviets, headed by Lenin, took over the regime. The Riga Peace Treaty between Russia and Germany was signed. The Austro-Germans retreated. However, as for us, a new battle started between the Poles, seeking freedom, and the Soviets.

Kletsk, between Warsaw and Moscow, in west Belarus, was a gateway for the Polish army under Marshal Pilsudski towards Ukraine, and for the Soviets warding off the Poles and advancing towards Warsaw.

The Polish Legionaries reached Kletsk and immediately demanded harsh “contributions” and fines from the population. Every demand for food, money, etc., was under threat of severe punishments. These were actually mercilessly carried out. They especially abused the Jewish population. Beatings, and pulling at beards or side-locks were daily occurrences.

I remember the first idioms we learned in Polish were: jid juch buti [Jew, take off your boots ]. Every Jew they met was ordered to take off his leather boots and hand them over to the Poles. They did this and were happy to stay alive. Another idiom was dvadzietsha-piontsh [twenty-five floggings]. That was the punishment for every Jew they imagined as refusing to comply. The legionaries were nicknamed haliarchikes after their leader Haller.

A local Squadron for Self Defense formed in the shtetl to protect soul and property. In the fire brigade building in the market square they were on guard and whenever some suspicious movement of Polish legionaries was detected, or else robbers – who were also around– they sounded the alarm bells and the youth gathered to help the victims.

I remember how our neighbor, Michael Fish, of the Fire Brigade officers, was once led with some other Jews by a squadron of Legionaries out of the city to shoot them for daring to activate the alarm bell of the Fire Brigade.

Thousands of people, including children, accompanied them weeping and begging the murderers to pardon them. The leaders of the city, headed by the Rabbis, joined the group and they succeeded finally to soften the hearts of the legionaries. I am sure their heart was softened by the bribe they got.

In a short while, the Russian army advanced, led by Trotsky. The Poles, while fleeing, abused the Jews, suspecting them of supporting the communists. They set fires, robbed, and poured their anger on property and people.

The Bolsheviks reached Warsaw and were warded off at the gates. The young Soviet army was undisciplined and its retreat was panicky. They were nicknamed by us Borve'se [Yiddish: The Bare-foots].

The peace treaty in Brisk settled the border so that Kletsk was included in Poland and Timkovitz and Slutzk were in Soviet Russia. This border line was 10 km east of Kletsk.

The new situation put us in the center of aid to those Jews who fled the Soviet regime trying to get to free Poland and then to go to Israel. We helped them with food and clothes and with necessary documents. I was then 6 or 7 years old and heard it told to me.

The new situation of our city as a border city put us in the center of aid to those Jews who fled the Soviet regime trying to get to free Poland and then to go to the land of Israel. The many refugees were helped with food and clothes and with necessary documents to be able to continue on their way. This way, hundreds –  or perhaps thousands – were saved, especially prominent Zionist activists who fled the oppressive Soviet regime. Many of them, famous persons. are now in Israel.

I was then 6 or 7 years old. I do not recall these events, except as I heard about them from others.

The whole of my mother’s family remained in the Russian side. My mother was born in Timkovitz. Her only brother, Haim Shapira, and 3 sisters with their families stayed in Timkovitz and in Slutzk. Our parents exerted much effort to transfer them to us and succeeded in bringing over my mother’s brother, children of her sister – Nissan and Fruma Kantor, Haim Shapira settled in Baranowitz after marrying a daughter of family Fialko. He ran a big cheese-importing business. Nissan and Fruma settled with us in Kletsk.

My father was a wealthy merchant, well-known and of honored. His house served as a [social] center and mirrored all events and changes in Kletsk life. The house was always full of merchants, farmers, and estate holders, who met with him to discuss matters of trade and the like. There I absorbed what was going on in our city and vicinity. I discerned the changes and state of mind from the economic and Jewish point of view.

My father was a scholar who studied in Nesvizh in his youth in the Yeshiva of R’ Yosef, and later in Minsk together with the greatest scholarly people in our shtetl, for examples, Haim Fimshtein and Matityahu Breslau. He was very talented, sharp, knew languages and led pleasant and charming conversations with others. His sharp phrases were well known in our city. He left the yeshiva upon his father’s death. Then his wonderful talents were channeled into trade and public activity.

When father became betrothed to my mother, he came to Timkovitz for Sabbath, where the Rabbi Gaon Menakhem Krakovski was then serving as Rabbi. My maternal grandfather, R’ Yitzkhak the SHU”B, presented my father to the Rabbi. The Rabbi delivered a sermon that Sabbath before the congregation including many scholars. All of the listeners were captivated by the Rabbi’s proficiency and amazing memory. When Sabbath was over, the Rabbi’s house was full of scholars and city leaders wishing hear more from the Rabbi. The Rabbi, playfully, handed out to each of the guests a piece of paper. He gave them each a series of random numbers to write down. Then he announced the digits he had given to each -- but in reverse order. People were amazed at his ability to remember the numbers in reverse order without a single mistake.

My father who was among the guests caught on to the trick: each digit represented a letter 1-alef, 2-bet, etc. It was clear to him that the Rabbi dictated to each of them a verse he knew, turned into numbers. That is how he could repeat the digits in a reverse order.

My father then got up and declared that he was ready to do what the Rabbi did. My grandfather was a bit angered and scolded my father. However, R’ Menakhem understood immediately that my father knew the secret and praised him for his catching on so quickly. People talked about it.

Apart from the grain merchants and traders who often visited us, our house was also a meeting place for the youth of the intelligensia because of my older sisters and their friends.

I was educated first in the kindergarten established by the teacher Rivka Margolin, a supreme educator who taught us Hebrew in Hebrew. [that is: not using a translation into Yiddish]. I still remember poems she recited to teach us. She implanted in us love for the Hebrew language and the land of our Fathers. She made Aliya to Kibbutz Degania and educated a whole generation who carried on her footsteps.

Then I was transferred to the reform Kheder of R’ Berl Katzenelson, a teacher of superior pedagogic art. He embedded in us knowledge of the Bible, a subject he loved in particular.

R’ Berl was famous for his strict discipline. He did not shy from flogging the pupils who failed to pay attention to their study. He used to walk back and forth in the classroom with a ruler in his hand. Woe to a pupil who was caught playing or conversing with a friend during the lesson. On the other hand, R’ Berl cultivated talented children. He knew how to excite the imagination of the children to impart to them sound knowledge of Hebrew and Bible. Each lesson was an unforgettable experience. He himself used to transcend with pathos while he was teaching.

From there I transferred to the kheder of R’ Motke (Mordekhai) melamed, very dfferent in character and ways. He was quiet and composed. His daily schedule was fixed and organized.

He was innocent, temperate, and easy-going. He was a leader of prayers during the High Holidays and considered himself very knowledgeable in grammar and vocalization of the Bible. He had his own method of teaching, without tension or drama. R’ Berl pictured the Kings and Prophets were pictured as idealists: revolutionaries craving for action. They did not accept routine,sought transcendence, and strived to fulfill difficult missions.

R’ Motke, in contrast, pictured them as gabbais in the old synagogue or in the Khevra Kadisha, filled with the spirit of observance of Torah and its mitzvot [orders], and with their perception of reward and punishment. R’ Motke liked to demonstrate. When he taught about the Temple, its holy objects and vestments. The clothes worn by the Cohens, he accompanied the lesson with demonstration – his own hand made model out of match boxes, bottles, etc.

He was not interested in world news. He explained to his pupils: “What’s the difference? Some time ago, they offered mi sheberakh [a prayer for healing] to Tzar Nikolai and now they do it for to Ignatzi Mushchitzki and Marshal Pilsudski. Then and now we are in the diaspora and what is the difference between one non-Jew and another? What do we, the Jews, have to do with this or that regime? They are all the sons of Esau [non-Jewish].” On the other hand he claimed: “I don’t know what these Zionists are babbling about their Balfour Declaration and the colonies. Is it a dictate from the Torah that Jews should work in the fields of Ivan and Stepan [i.e. Russians]? What will the world miss if we leave this rough work to the non-Jews, and we – the sons of Abraham, Yitkhak and Jacob – are free to cherish God? And if you talk of the mitzvah of settling in the land of Israel, this is to be achieved when the Messiah comes in the future, and then – in the Land of Israel – the mountains shall drip sweet wine and all the hills shall melt [Amos 9:13]; and they shall dwell each man under his vine and under his fig tree [Micha 4:4], and will study the Torah in tranquility. What is the hurry? Why the clamor? The generation is not yet ready for Geula [redemption]. We need to wait. Generations have waited and we should not press to hurry the Geula. I don’t believe that the Zionists will bring the Messiah. They are likely to bring the Khevley Mashi'akh [Ropes of Messiah, the suffering before His coming] …

I had a special nearness to Motke the Melamed, because my father paid him a nice salary (and my older brother, Noakh, is a friend of Motke’s beloved son, Moshe.)

Motke had two sons and two daughters. Moshe, his son, immigrated to the States. Motke missed his son very much. Moshe sent him a recording as if he was talking to his parents, asking how they are, blessing them, and telling them of his doings. Motke had an old gramophone [record player] and after Havdala Saturday night, he listened to the recording with his wife and young daughter, sipping tea and saying: “now we will talk with Moshe”. His wife would shed a tear and he would say: “There is wisdom in Edom. Edison, who invented the gramophone, will share in the next world as the righteous among the nations, because he bestows happiness on Jews who can listen to the voice of their sons who are far away in the distant world.” As one of his beloved pupils, he invited me to come and listen to this wonderful recording from his son.

Motke’s oldest son, Zalman, was known to be a joker, jesting even about his father.

Motke had no need for foreign languages –  neither Russian nor Polish. He had little to do with the authorities. He regarded his wife as an expert in the language of the country. When a non-Jew arrived in the house, such as to deliver a letter and he was needed to sign for it, he would take off his hat, and run to call his wife to tell him what this man wants. Once he needed a doctor’s care. The doctor was Polish so Motke took his wife along. The doctor examined Motke and told him to eat a lot of fruit, using the Polish word, ovutze. Motke's wife did not know the meaning of this word. So both went home reciting the word until they met someone who knew the meaning.

When Motke's wife was bargaining with a [non-Jewish] farmer to buy firewood, Motke prompted her with a suitable word – so he thought. That would stir a happy tumult in the Kheder: the children would jump from the benches and each of them attempted to help the Rabbi and his wife bargain with the stubborn non-Jew. Each of us would add a new distorted Russian idiom. After such bargaining, R’ Motke needed a short rest. He ordered us to go over what we had learned, in the meantime, until he regained his tranquility…

From R’ Motke’s Kheder, I moved to a Small Yeshiva associated with The [Large] Yeshiva [founded by Aharon Kotler].

It was headed by R’ David Dov Kreizer. The first she'ur [academic year] was taught by R’ Yitzkhak HaCohen from Timkovitz, a modest and honest scholar, a graduate of the Yeshiva of Slutzk. He did his job with dedication and prepared us thoroughly for studying the Talmud by ourselves. Not many of my friends in Kheder continued in this [Small] Yeshiva. Some continued in general schools or learned some profession instead.

As I already mentioned, my father’s house was always full of people of all circles. The spirit of the time was in this house. They used to argue and discuss events in the world around the table. I, the small boy, used to sit on the side listening to them. Father was a real master of story-telling and conversation. He describe former Russia, its regime – with its negative aspects – life of the Jews there, etc.

Father used to travel a great deal inside Russia and Ukraine, Moldava, and Serbia. He described life in the various communities very vividly and enchantingly.

As a Talmid Chakham, he regarded with scorn the ignorant [Jewish] people of the communities in Volyn and Serbia, who were known as backward in the knowledge of the Torah. He spoke of them ironically. He described vividly the Jews in the villages in these surroundings far from centers of Torah. He criticized sharply the old-type Maskilim of Odessa who were nicknamed by him Zeif mit Chvekes [Yiddish: soap with nails. One of them who had read in secret books by the Jewish authors Mapu and Smolenskin, traveled to Odessa to acquire Haskala [a broad education] came back decorated with pince-nez [French: old-style clip-on spectacles] with a black ribbgon hanging loosely from the lapel of his coat. Now when he is back in the shtetl, he does not work, looks down at everybody, and always [frequently] weaves such words in his sentences as “By us, in Odessa…” – in broken Russian. [That is, intellectually pretentious.] Father described with wittiness the rustic grotesqueness and weak intelligence of such a person.

Though my father was an educated Jew, broad-minded, and seeker of knowledge and education, he remained a Ba'al Bayit lita'ee [a Lithuanian house-holder, a lover of Torah, respectful of scholars, and faithful to tradition of generations. Therefore, he made an effort to educate his children in this tradition, but at the same time broaden their horizons by appropriate general education. My older, talented brother continued his studies in a high school in Nesvizh under the strict scrutiny of my father to prevent his son from leaving tradition and knowledge of Torah. Until today, with all vicissitudes of time [unspecified; maybe he left Russia to avoid conscription, possibly descrbed later] that my brother went through in France, he stayed faithful to the original Jewish life.

The shtetl –  with its tumult, crowds, personalities, and characters –  was a heart-warming experience.

The old beit-midrash [later we learn that it was the one in the center of the shul-hoif] was where my father used to pray. He had a fixed seat facing the mizrach. The saltah veshamnah [Hebrew, signifying crème de la crème] of the city prayed there with the “old Rabbi”, Haim Shimon Hernzon – to distinguish him from the other Rabbi , the son-in-law of his sister Rabbi Moshe Epshtein.

We lived on Radz’imont street, quite a distance from the old Beit HaMidrash, which was located in the center of the shtetl in the shul-hoife, where the best of the scholars and respected people prayed.

In this beit-midrash the format was fixed and the leaders were constant and known [i.e., the regulars]. The congregation included the best scholars and most honorable persons in the town, and honored old gabbais. The shamash was also a person of Torah knowledge. When the shamash incanted: mi Shebeirakh [for someone called to the reading of Torah] his voice carried the tune in a way that signified whether the promised contribution was satisfactory in his opinion. By the same token we, the children, judged by the tone of chanting El male Rakhamim [the most important prayer for the dead] about the status of the dead person. [i.e., we could discern exactly his/her status.] Because of the over-strictness of this shamash, we nicknamed him the Beizer Shamash [the bad Shamash].

[But in fact, from the adult perspective] The shamash carried out his tasks with class and dignity.

For cleaning work he had a helper. [Examples of the many tasks he performed:] he fixed the lamps and he straightened the wicks in the lamps and in the memorial candles.

Also he directed the aliyot. He consulted first with the gabbai who stood on the bimah, but his opinion was usually decisive.

I was amazed at his memory. The Shamash remembered hundreds of names of members of the congregation and the names of their fathers, exactly. He had no need to ask them their names; he called them to the aliyot from the bima directly. He served many years.

In contrast, the gabbais were changed from time to time and if we are going to try to describe all of them our words would be stretched thin.

Among the Ba'aley Tefilah, especially those who served during the High Holidays and other Holidays, R’ Shmuel Leib had the first place. Like many others in the shtetl he had a nickname: Bendz’ik. I don’t know if this was meant as praise or scorn. He was short, smart, and witty. Although he was already 80 years old, he did not give up his long-time right to lead the Musaf prayer. He is not just a Ba'al Tefilah [leader of prayers]. He claims he is a cantor. In his youth he used to sing for big cantors, pursuing the hope to become a cantor himself. He imitated their styles.

He did not have a tuning-fork [to establish the first note] but he would press his finger on his bulging Adam's apple while tilting his head backwards to find the note.

He had a nice voice but was not very meticulous about grammar rules and punctuation [and so, did a poor job of reproducing the poetic phrasing of the prayers]. He also had a strange habit of inserting verses of his own in the middle of the prayer. (Maybe because the rules of music require it?)

This insertion of his own words in the middle of prayer is a topic of disputes between R' Motke and the Ba’aley Batim, who sit in the east [in the higher-status seats, nearer to the Holy Ark]. The Ba’aley Batim claim that the insertions disrupt the Khazarat HaShatz.

R’ Motke, the melamed, especially reprimands R' Shmuel Leib. His concern is that R' Shmuel does a poor job of rendering pronunciation, vowels, and emphasis signs.

R’ Shmuel Leib responds laughingly and scornfully:

It is rumored that R' Motke wishes to inherit R’ Shmuel's place.

The hint at a goat is clear. Jokers recount that R’ Motke once bought a she-goat. When his wife wanted to milk it, she suspected that it was a he-goat. R' Motke argued: How can it be a he-goat when he doesn't have big horns and has no sign of a beard. His wife argued: How could it be a she-goat when it has no udders? The “problem” was solved by a butcher –a neighbor– who determined whatever he determined…

Besides being a leader of prayer, R’ Shmuel's was always occupied with design and construction. He runs a factory making soda-water, which his daughter, Dinka, sells in a kiosk. His neighbor, R’ Leibe Yosef, son of Moshe, deals in production of soda-water as well, in addition to a tea-shop (cheine) for farmers. They live side-by-side with a shared fence between them. They have been quarrelling for many years about where, exactly, the border lies between their two yards. R' Leibe Yosef puts up a fence and R’ Shmuel Leibe destroys it, claiming that it encroaches a few centimeters into his yard. The rabbis have given up trying to make peace, a compromise, between them. The matter was referred to the government legal system and reached the district city, Nesvizh.

More than once the Torah reading in the old beit midrash was delayed by one of them [R' Leibe Yosef and R’ Shmuel Leibe] who saw himself discriminated against, and he would present his claims before the congregation.

The rabbi and the ba'aley batim [important householders] got fed up with this ongoing quarrel. My father used to tell that still at the time of the old Rabbi – author of Heikhaley Shen  – when the two came to him to litigate before him. The old rabbi joked:

Seeing that he could not win against his neighbor legally, R' Shmuel Leib tried a clever trick: to defeat him commercially. He decided to perfect a machine for the production of soda-water. R' Shmuel Leib has a son in London. (He emigrated because he took part in in the 1905 revolution. He left the country [to avoid punishment].) R' Shmuel Leib's longing for his son increased and he traveled to visit the son. The son, wanting to satisfy his father and make him happy, bought for him a machine for production of soda-water. I remember that when R' Shmuel Leib returned to Kletsk, he bragged that this machine would do wonders…

The machine did arrive in Kletsk, but for years it could not be assembled. When I left Kletsk in 1935 it was not working yet.

R' Leibe Yosef, son of Moshe, is a wealthy Jew and is known for being stingy when it comes to charity and contributing to public needs. The gabbais of Khevra Kadisha watch him closely and when his day comes they will settle acczounts with him. He is over eighty years old. Rumors pass from others' mouths to his ears and enrage him. He decides to do some good deed to spite all the gabbais. The boiler in the municipal bath house was out of order. They already delayed the reading of Torah in the Beit Midrash and several meetings took place in the Rabbi’s house, but no solution was found.

R' Leib Yosef invested a lump sum of money; he fixed and renovated the bath house at his own expense. It goes without saying that he made sure he received the income [from the bath house] for several years until he recovered his investment. The Jews of Kletsk were relieved.

The bima [platform] of the Beit HaMidrash was a kind of divider between classes of people. On the east side: the householders, according to their Yikhus [family status], wealth, scholarship, etc. On the west side were artisans, craftsman, wagon drivers, horse dealers, common people – and idlers. The latter [on the west] grumble and are angry at the majority, at the house owners who grabbed the rule [took control]. In their opinion, aliyot are not allocated in a socially just way. Most aliyot are awarded to householders. They look down on the common people and exploit them by means of the Korovke [tax]. The householders disregard their opinions as if they do not exist.

The reason for delaying the reading could be minor but this was still an important opportunity for individuals to speak out. For example, the khazan finishes the prayer and starts walking to the aron kodesh [the Ark] to take out the Torah Scroll. Without warning a person steps up and stands in his way; he raises his hand and calls out:

The khazan steps back, sits down in his place, and waits for instructions from either the rabbi or the gabbai. [Typically] The Rabbi observes the congregation and decides it is not yet time to intervene. Let the problem be presented to the entire congregation, to the distinguished members and the loafers alike.

It is possible that the storm will subside after back and forth arguments and public activists’ involvement. In the meantime, the Rabbi hides his face in his talit, turns his face to the wall, and reviews the portion of the week, reading and interpreting, as if what is going on does not concern him. Let the boys play before us...

The congregation, now standing as a group in the synagogue center, is swept into a general debate. The person who started the discussion [by crying out Rabotai!] and his claim are both forgotten. Did he claim that a neighbor trespassed in his yard? Did he suspect that someone informed on him to the authorities?

Since permission was given for a delay, why not raise other problems concerning the congregation, some that are current and unsolved? It is enough that one would utter:

All eyes are first of all turned to R' Gedalia Fish, the gabbai. Until now he was sitting studying the Khumash, now he cleans his spectacles, coughs a bit and looks around to see if it is time for him to answer. Part of the congregation look at R’ Iche Molier who is sitting at the west of the synagogue. He is the expert in fixing ovens. They expect him to say something. R’ Iche is a quiet and modest Jew, wonderful craftsman. His neighbors, the carriage drivers are proud that the whole congregation need one of them…

He wises the sweat off his tanned face – a result of having the effort and excitment involved in appearing public. Then he returns to his seat.

R’ Gedalia comes forward and bursts out, apologizing: there is no money left. People do not pay what they pledged. Where should I get the money to rebuild the oven...

His explanation does not convince, people disagree. They make suggestions. Voices are raised.

The people are already tired from arguing. Someone comments that the hour is late, the ovens in the houses will get cold and the cholent will cool off as well. So, an effort is made to end the argument. The old rabbi has finished the portion of the week and looks around. Someone calls out that a meeting should be held in the Rabbi’s house when Sabbath is over to discuss the problem and reach a solution. His suggestion is accepted. So as not to let anyone avoid coming to the meeting, someone suggests that the Rabbi will send the shamash to invite in his name the whole congregation. This needs an agreement of the Rabbi. He whispers to the shamash who declares from the bimah

In the meanwhile, the ba’al tefilah gets a cue to approach the Ark and he starts reciting the customary verse:

Someone still bursts out:

but the congregates hush him up: Shhhh! Shhhhhhhh!

The Torah scroll is taken out of the Ark, people gradually calm down and go back to their seats. The congregation continues with the proceedings. Reading starts anew. To everybody’s relief a brawl was avoided – as well as blasphemy.

The gabbai R’ Gedalia feels as if he was scolded, as he received no support from anyone. He threatens to resign, but nobody takes his threat seriously. He goes up the bimah to sequence the aliyot and order is resumed.

I don’t know if the general meeting was held or not, but Iche Molier was called to work. He demolishes the oven and is ready to rebuild it according to plan. The ones sitting on the west [that is, among the commoners] are proud of their friend. He saved the day…

Among the common people there is a wagon-driver named Daniel. He stuttered and his speech was often ridiculed. He was a Cohen. During the Holidays, when the Cohens go on the bimah to raise their hands with the blessing of the Cohens, the Cohens next to him noticed something peculiar at the end of the blessing.

The [other] Cohens decided to cut short the melodious ending just once and let Daniel carry it all by himself so we could hear what he was saying. When all others went silent we heard Daniel continue with his strong, pleasant [singing] voice. We were surprised to hear him sing out Bravo [the international Bravo as heard in public performances] instead of be’ahava. The congregation laughed and he left the bimah muttering angrily.

We have mentioned only a few, but the old beit midrash was full of scholars.

Here, facing us in the East corner, sits R’ Moshe, son of Hirske HaCohen. He was previously head leader-of-prayer. Noble and wise, he weighs his words and what he says is full of interest and good taste.

To his left – R’ Shalom Shmaya Lampert, son of Leibe. He is great in Torah, like one of the Geonim. He is a rich merchant – he owns a big store in the center of market square. In his youth he studied in the Volozhin Yeshiva and was of the prime students. It was said that he was a friend of R’ Chaim Soloveichik. R’ Aharon Kotler, head of our [Kletsk] Yeshiva, honored him greatly.

Next: R’ Michael Trubovitz, a scholar of noble qualities who is active faithfully for the needs of the public.

Here, next, is R’ Moshe Ginzburg, an honorable merchant, a scholar of a sharp mind.

The Great Synagogue, the Kalte Shul, (Cold Synagogue) is big –  splendid in its measurements and architectural beauty. The reason it was called Cold: there was no heating –  as was the takanah [rule] from way back. The gabbais are R’ Shabtai Dov Manier and R' Nakhke Moshe, son of Asher – Nakhman Agolnik, a scholar and an excellent leader-of-prayer.

Despite its size this synagogue is ranked second to the beit midrash. The congregation is more progressive. The congregants allow themselves to talk [among themselves] during the reading of the Torah, and prayers are shorter. They omit parts of the hymns. The Old Rabbi is in the Beit HaMidrash and he visits the Cold Synagogue on Simkhat Torah. The atmosphere is modern and more Zionist.

Close by stands the synagogue Po’aley Tzedek [meaning: righteous], also known as the shulkhl, where workers and common people pray. R’ Shlomke der beit-din Shamash [the shamash of the rabbinical court] presides there. He is very old and short. In the past, he served the Gaon R' Shalom Ber Hernzon. He delivers in the shulkhl heart-touching sermons, parts of which were published in his book O’seh Shalom. He is also the municipal mourner.

When I attended the Small Yeshiva, I was disconnected somewhat from the milieu of the old Beit Midrash.

R’M [Rosh Metivta, head of Yeshiva] Yitzkhak HaCohen from Timkovitz conducted his she'ur in the kloyz in the alley near Radzivilmont Street.

When I went on to the she'ur of R’ David Dov Kreizer, we studied in the Tzepra Kloyz.

On Saturdays, I started already to pray with [the students of] the Big Yeshiva. We used the Ezrat Nashim [women’s section] of the Beit Midrash, and there we listened to the talks of the mashgi’akh [mentor].

The circle of friends was different, the atmosphere was clearly of a Yeshiva with all its manners and it opposed the usual Ba’al Bayit attitude.

It was the time of the second and third Aliya [to Israel]. Our city was imbued with active, vibrant Zionist spirit. All the Zionist parties with their various trends have representatives in our city: from the extreme left to the Revisionists. Zionist lecturers and visitors from Israel appear from time to time and stir the hearts to make Aliya.

I remember the first appearance of Chayuta Bussel of Degania [Kibbutz]. Her late husband, Yosef Bussel, was from our city. She had two brothers in Kletsk. One of them was R’ Mosh Pinkhas Gavze, owner of a fabric factory.

Our city was known as a city of Mitnagdim, where there was no place for Hassidim and Hassidism.

R’ Moshe Pinkhas was an avid Hassid, born in Lyakhovich. He settled in Kletsk during WWI. He was joyful and smart. He played the violin on special occasions when the Motza'ey Shabbat [after the Sabbath] and Motza'ey Khag [after a holiday], during Chol Hamo’ed, and on other occasions.

He was one of the activists for the Yeshiva –  together with Haim Fimshtein, R’ Eliezer Cohen, R’ Zisl Miller and others. During celebrations in the Yeshiva, it was delightful to see Moshe Pinkhas play the violin and R’ Fimshtein dance – lightly and with agility.

I was present once when there was a competition between the two. R’ Haim continued to dance after R’ Moshe Pinkhas got tired and stopped playing… Haim danced with closed eyes with extraordinary excitement [ecstatically] while singing the nigun melody he loved most: Teshev enosh ad daka, vetomar shuvu bney adam. [You bring man to the crushing point, and You say, "Return, O sons of men. [Psalms 90:3], singing it with a special yeshiva-tune.

Chayuta Bussel appeared in our city with her small daughter, Hadassah [b. 1919]. It was amazing that the child knew no other language but Hebrew. Khayuta’s description of life in Israel and of its settlers excited imaginations. Women took off their jewelry and even their wedding rings and offered them as contributions to the building of the land

I was caught up in the Zionist ideal from my childhood. There were two reasons for that: the Zionist atmosphere in my father’s home and the objection to the Polish regime at that time. The regime exposed its anti-Semite attitude. The merchants groaned under a heavy load of taxes and harsh treatment. Freedom of speech and expression of opinions was limited. The head of the municipal police was cruel to the Jewish inhabitants. The youth did not see any promising future. My older brother, for example, after finishing high school with distinction, was not accepted to one of the schools of higher education in Poland, because of numerus clausus in the universities. He was forced to go abroad, first to Vienna and then to Paris....

That atmosphere in our house was, as mentioned, Zionist. My father was a lover of Zion from way back. We all followed with tension the events in The Land of Israel. My brother in law, my sister’s husband, Mr. Tzvi Molinier, made Aliya in 1925, but was unsuccessful in settling in the Land and after a few months was forced to return to his family. My family did not approve of his hasty retreat. Our [Zionist] love and craving for the Land was not damaged.

Meanwhile, I continued my studies at the Small Yeshiva and later enrolled in the Big Yeshiva – the fortress of Torah headed by Gaon R’ Aharon Kotler. The Big Yeshiva that I attended had 250-300 students. Among them were talented students who studied diligently and excelled in Torah and noble qualities It was conducted in the spirit of Mussar yeshivas and famous supervisors taught ethics there. R’ Yosef Leib Genedik taught there for several years. He was educated in Chelm [Yeshiva] in the spirit of R’ Israel of Salant, father of the Mussar movement. The graduates of Chelm excelled in their pleasent, orderly appearance and unique pedagogic approach to their students. They aimed to deepen the thinking of people, to help them acquire the habit of engaging in calculated activity instead of automatic routine. Even a good activity or mitzvah loses some of its value when it is done without consciousness of its essence. A person should avoid doing evil not because of fear of punishment, but because of the high status of a person as the choice of creation. So this theory of morals demanded studying accompanied with contemplation, to achieve the finest deeds, order, discipline, and pleasant appearance.

Several other mentors were active in the field of Mussar, among them R’ Yekhezkel Levinshtein, the spriritual leader of the Ponevezh Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, Israel.

In 1930 the wonderful building of the Yeshiva was completed. The yeshiva became one of the greatest centers of Torah in Poland-Lithuania. Pupils arrived from various places, even from abroad.

Rabbi Kotler was the vibrant spirit in the Yeshiva. His lessons, conducted twice a week, were a big event. Each lesson was a subject for extended discussion, inspiring the listeners with its deep contemplation and scope of topics.

I was swept by the spirit of diligence in the Yeshiva and had the privilege of being especially close to the head of the Yeshiva. R’ Eliezer Menakhem Shakh was also very influential in the Yeshiva. He was a graduate of the Slutzk Yeshiva who married the niece of Gaon Rabbi Meltzer. He expressed a special interest in the youth, studied with them and accustomed them to speculative thinking coupled with fundamental understanding. His enormous diligence and pleasant explanations drew appealed to many and he shaped their character as students while serving as an exemplary personal model.

Rabbi Shakh was lucky to survive the Holocaust and serve as head of the yeshiva of Poniviz’ in Bney-Braq.

I should mention some of my friends in the yeshiva with whom I studied for several years: R’ Israel Nakmanovitz, son of a poor family, Great in Torah, of a great soul, modest and digilant whose image is still in front of my eyes.

David Grinberg - very talented, smart and lively - succeeded to escape from the Nazis and in Russia died of typhus.

Leibe Altman of Stoleptzi,

Yaakov Margolin of Niesviez’

Mosh Zigman of Brisk,

R’ Yitzkhak piakrasky of Stochek, Great in Tora and enormously diligent.

My friend from youth, Dov Me’irovitz.

I owe all of them so much. Their friendship was dear to me and they were happy for me when I was almost the only lucky of them to make Aliya.

The house-warming was magnificent. Eminent Torah scholars, Rabbis and heads of yeshivas participated in the Joy of Torah. The presence of Gaon Rabbi Meltzer honored the occasion. He came especially from Jerusalem where he was serving then as the head of Etz-Khayim yeshiva.

I was privileged to know him and enjoy his dignified appearance and teaching. He passed through Kletsk from Slutzk. I especially remember how we parted from him in 1925 when he made Aliya to the Land of Israel. That was an unforgettable experience. Thousands of the city inhabitants, with the Christian mayor of the city leading the procession, accompanied this Gaon of slutzk. I was too small to be able to appreciate his great personality.

The house-warming continued for about a week. All parties of all trends participated in the Mitzvah celebration. Geonim and old people danced full of joy and many were shedding tears of happiness.

While the dancing was going on, people noticed how Gaon R’ Elkhanan Vasserman, head of the Baranovitz yeshiva, bent down and kissed the edges of the mantle of Gaon Rabbi Meltzer, and that R’ Israel Yadkov Liubchensk, the head of the Yeshiva of Baranovitz was crying out of joy.

Several Years later, R’ Tzvi Yehudah Meltzer, son of Gaon Rabbi Meltzer and nephew of gaon Rabbi Kotler, came to Kletsk as a mentor and spiritual head of the yeshiva. He made Aliya with his father, at the time [1925] [probably came on a special request to Kletsk] and now he returned to the Land of Israel in 1934.

The date of my conscription to the Polish army was near. That was the most unpleasant thing especially for an observant Jew. My parents decided to rescue me from this ordeal.

The only way out was to make Aliya to the Land of Israel. There were other alternatives which I and my parents totally rejected.

In those days it was very difficult to get a certificate for immigrating to Israel. My father approached the head of the yeshiva who after contemplating about it agreed to make an effort to obtain for me a certificate as a student in one of the yeshivas in the Land of Israel.

The head of the yeshiva hesitated because of the fear that I might be disconnected from studying, if I got swept with the stream of general Zionist pioneering. There were discouraging examples that he knew of and this fear was undoubtedly justified. On the other hand, the problem was that the department of Aliya was allotted only a very small number of certificates for students, out of which some were for yeshiva students. There was hope that the yeshiva of Kletsk will be allotted perhaps 2 such certificates. These 2 places were already reserved for 2 special cases. One was sick and his Aliya could be a life saver. The other one had family problems that needed him to make Aliya as soon as possible. So I had to be contented with the promise that if there is an additional certificate, it will be given reserved for me. In the meantime somebody else disputed this and his seniority in the yeshiva he could have been right.

The head of the yeshiva, having given us the promise, was determined that under the circumstances he should make an effort on my behalf. He decided to appeal personally to his brother-in-law Rabbi Tzvi Yehudah Meltzer who was living then in Tel-Aviv. He presented to him a special request to do what he can to get a certificate for me. This appeal “bore fruit” surprisingly. I was called to Rabbi Kotler’s house several weeks later and with hands shaking with excitement he handed to me a certificate on my name from the Khevron-yeshiva, “Knesset Israel”, in Jerusalem. My surprise was even greater because the Rabbi did not appeal to the yeshiva for this purpose. It became clear later that Rabbi Meltzer, when he received the appeal, and knowing me personally, went especially to Jerusalem and found out that several certificates were granted to Khevron-yeshiva and acquired one for me.

When the hour of my leaving approached, I found out that it was not a simple mission. On the face of it everybody is happy but some nagging thoughts cross my mind: my dear parents are getting old, their hearts ache, and a spirit of sadness descends on the house. My sisters and their family tried to make the rest of my stay at home as pleasant as possible. My young brother about 17 is already helping my father and actually manages his commerce/trade. He encouraged me.

My close friends from youth who went their separate ways for the past years, came to be with me and part before I live the city. They reminiscence and hope to meet again soon…

Close to the day of departure I went to part from my teacher and Gaon Rabbi, head of the yeshiva. He parted from me warmly, accompanied me from his apartment on the second floor near the yeshiva, and tells me: “Look my son! You were witness to the vacillations preceding my efforts on your behalf, and Heavens helped you. I don’t want to pose to you much but one thing I ask of you: when you reach the Land of Israel make an effort to stay near my father-in-law Rabbi Meltzer, for at least three years and then I will feel confident of your future.” I promised him and we kissed with his blessing.

I made my way to part from my relatives. First went to Baranovitz where mother’s brother, Haim Shapira lived. I love this uncle especially. At the time when he smuggled the border and reached us from Timkovitz, his birth place, he inspired my imagination with his enticing stories of his life. He traveled to America in 1912, prior to WW1. He was an only male child to his parents and his parents long for him so that he returned to Timkovitz. He was conscripted to the army when war broke out and was sent to the front. They did not hear from him for four years. His parents died of longing and broken heart. When war was over, he appeared after having spent part of the war years in Hungary, as a war prisoner. His stories about America and his descriptions of his stay in Hungary, taking care of an estate whose owner - Hungarian general - was serving in the army, were engraved in my childish memory.

From there I proceeded to Liachovichi to my relatives of family Sandik and then to Horodzey and Niessviz’.

The day of parting arrived. It was a winter day February 1935. A winter wagon hitched to horses was waiting near the house with my belongings. The road was rendered almost impassable with snow. We had to reach the train leaving the Liachovichi station to Warsaw.