The Yizkor Story

• Yizkor Artwork

• Yizkor Series Artist’s Statement

• Postcards From the Past is my brother’s video about his genealogy discoveries that inspired the Yizkor Series.

The Hebrew word yizkor means remember.

After Grandma Goldie’s death in 1965, a box of water-damaged photos came to our home. My parents did not know who any of the people in the photos were, and yet they kept the collection. In a way, this made sense since my father was a portrait photographer and my parents spent their work days making and selling photographs — and even restoring old damaged photos. In fact, several of the photos from the box show evidence of their attempts to retouch the water-damage.

Click on the photos to enlarge them.

As a teenager, I loved to look at the people in those photographs and imagine they were my long-ago relatives living some version of Fiddler on the Roof somewhere in Eastern Europe — in the Pale of Settlement. I was especially taken with a postcard photo of three young adults. In particular, I wanted to know more about the young woman in the center. If time travel had been possible, she was the one I most wanted to meet.

Decades later, inspired by the same photos, my brother, Bob, started his genealogy research. He also restored some of the photo images on his computer. Later he discovered a cousin who had a relatively undamaged copy of the same large group photo. Little by little, Bob’s online research paid off and a story took shape. The story has gaping holes, but it is ours.

• The Postcard announces the engagement of Goldie’s cousin Pesach and his fiancée Dvora Borejsza [bore-asia]. Pesach is Yiddish for Passover; we are guessing he was born in the spring.

  Bearing no postmark, the postcard was likely sent in an envelope. It was addressed: “For my cousin Golde and her husband and children Fitterman.” The writer hosted the tnoyim (prenuptial negotiations), which took place on Hol Hamoed Sukkos, Tishrei 17-21, that is, in September or October a few days after the full moon. The wedding date was set for Rosh Hodesh Shevat, which is in January or February at the new moon. No year is given, but we know it had to be in the 1920s.

  Although the message identifies the seated woman as Dvora, my brother and I have concluded Dvora stands in the middle with her hand on her fiancé's shoulder. We believe this because (1) she is the same woman who is holding a baby in the 1930 small group photo — the same baby Pesach holds in the large group photo, and (2) the other young woman (the sister of the bride-to-be) does not appear in any of the other photos, which makes sense because Dvora’s family was from a different town.

  In two places, I believe I see signs of photo retouching to correct the water damage: Dvora’s dress bodice (her right side) and Pesach’s jacket collar (his right side).

• Two Cemetery Photos show Goldie’s parents’ gravestones.

  Both gravestones are painted rather than engraved. Both photos were taken on March 1, 1930 — I assume during Jake Goldberg’s visit. The unidentified woman in both photos also appears in the 1930 large group photo. We do not know who she was. I wonder if she is the one who sent the postcard to my grandmother.

  I can easily imagine Jake Goldberg took photos of other gravestones and sent them to Goldie’s American cousins.

• The Large Group Photo was taken in 1930 when American relative, Jake Goldberg (front row wearing glasses), visited Goldie’s home town, Kosova (aka Kosów Poleski), a small town in the Pale of Settlement — now Kosava, Belarus.

  Pesach is in the back holding a baby; Dvora stands at the far left. The woman in the cemetery photos is seated near the center of the large group — right where a professional photographer would place a matriarch. Her face shows most clearly in the water-damaged version of the photo. The young man in the front on the far left is Yitzhak, Pesach’s younger brother. In my mind, both group photos were taken to share with American relatives.

• The Small Group Photo was also taken during Jake Goldberg’s 1930 visit.

  Back row: Yitzhak, Jake, Pesach. Front row: Etl (Pesach and Yitzhak’s younger sister), Dvora holding Shayna-Rivka. Etl and Dvora appear to be wearing matching coats.

• The Young Couple Photo remains a mystery.

  I suspect this is Yitzhak and his future wife, Chavka, who he met before he immigrated to Palestine. I need to run this idea past our Israeli relatives as this would be their mother and father.

The large group may very well be my entire Kosova family. In my head I am shouting, “Run! Go! Leave before it’s too late!”

Click on photos to enlarge them, and then hover with mouse to read the captions.

As the story took shape, our suspicions were confirmed in a Yad Vashem testimony from Yitzhak Rubinovitz, Pesach’s younger brother. Yitzhak emigrated to Palestine before World War 2. In the Yad Vashem documentation, he reports the murders of 12 relatives in the Shoah. All but Pesach were likely murdered in July 1942.

• Pesach (44) and Dvora Rubinovitz (37) and their three children — Shayna-Rivka (11), Faivel (9), Chanoch (7). I presume, Shayna-Rivka is the baby held by Pesach (in the 1930 large group photo) and Dvora (in the 1930 small group photo).

• Joseph (54) and Ester (49) (Vigodski) Bislovski and their three children — Luba (16), Natan (13) and Shalom (10). Ester was a first cousin to Goldie and Pesach. I am guessing this family is the three children seated to the right. Joseph is holding the smallest child and Ester stands beside them.

• Hirsh and Etl (Rubinovitz) Kulishevski. Etl was Pesach’s youngest sibling. In 1930, she was likely unmarried. Perhaps she is in the large group photo seated in front beside her brother Yitzhak, and again, in the small group photo seated in front of him.

All the listed ages are approximate. No ages were given for Hirsh and Etl.

The Yad Vashem testimony was especially startling, because our parents and grandparents never mentioned losing family in the Shoah. In fact, when I asked, my mother denied we lost anyone. By the time of this discovery, all our parents and grandparents had died.

It seems every genealogy finding brings new mysteries with it. I will never know for sure what my parents and grandparents did or did not know.

My brother contacted Yitzhak’s family in Israel.

We learned Yitzhak died in 1982, and more than 30 years later, his widow, Chavka, died at age 102, only days after my brother made contact with our Israeli relatives. Same as in my immediate family, the adult children had no idea their family had lost relatives in the Shoah. And, they did not know about us, same as we had not known about them.

Our Israeli cousins shared several photos including one of Pesach and a postcard Pesach sent to Yitzhak in 1939. Interestingly, our Israeli cousins had an old photo, which they guessed might be family. What photo was it? It was a picture of my grandmother, her husband and their first child — my father — taken in New York City around 1918. Only now, I wonder how Yitzhak ended up with that photo — versus it staying in Kosova with Pesach or one of his other siblings. Perhaps my grandmother sent a separate copy to each cousin.

Pesach’s 1939 Postcard Message to Yitzhak — upon Yitzhak’s arrival in Israel

In this letter I can glimpse Pesach’s personality and his anxiety about the growing danger surrounding his family and community.

Friday, 19 May [1939]

My dear brother Itshe Maier! First, I congratulate you to your new homeland. May your health be improved and your luck be increased there. I and the whole family read your letter. And everyone was happy that you have already made your way, However, we still cannot enjoy the affair in its entirety because of the White Paper and the turmoil about it. This past Sunday, on the 14th of May, your friend Dov Tenenboim visited us at our house all day long. Asher Shever told me, that on May 1, you arrived in the Land. And [he told us, that] he was in Venice [Italy] for 4 days. And [he told us, that] ____ the Tsentos [orphan society] sent for you and another person 300 Zloty. He spoke in very high terms of you and [as soon as there would be a letter from you] he asked, to write to you, that he was going to immigrate to Palestine after the congress. This was promised to him. Also your friend _____visited us to ask, if there is _____. But we didn't know it ourselves, yet. ___Cohen is going to depart these days. Chane [Hannes?] is still at home. His documents will just be completed, soon. Please give [us] an advice: How shall he manage, to get some money from Tsentos. In former years he also got support from the Tsentos [office in] Pinsk. He then could also depart soon, it's just a matter of money. The news: Persons, who were allowed to go to the border, still remained there. Everyone, who was standing there in the early morning, was allowed, anyhow. And the town is silent. Our family is healthy, no more news. The weather until May 15 was cold and rainy, but today, it's very warm, already, the fields and gardens [?] are splendid, already, one hopes for a plentiful harvest[?]. A _____near a tree [?] has died [?]. Stay healthy, cheerful and happy. Let's hope, that the bad situation will improve, from me, Pesach

[The last bit is untranslated due to legibility]

[The text on the front continues like a postscript:]

Today they asked me in magistrate how you are doing [?] and I said I myself don't know.

The Memorial Book of Kosów Poleski is a record of the Jewish community — how the residents lived and how they died.

My brother hired a translator to work on the Hebrew text. I volunteered to proofread the English translation never imagining how it would change me.

The Memorial Book includes photos of the town and Jewish community: the school children, teachers, rabbis, firefighters, emergency services groups, a theatre group, a youth group and organizations for future Israeli pioneers.

• Pesach and Dvora are listed as Pejsach and Dwora Rubinowicz.

• The story is told by the sole surviving “artisan.” Artisans were skilled laborers such as tailors and shoemakers selected by the Nazis to ply their skills for the Nazi army.

• At this JewishGen KehilaLinks site, my brother provides information about the Kosava Jewish community: photos of the town and people, an abbreviated summary of its demise, and much more. Bob’s source was The Memorial Book.

The demise of the Jewish community is a long and familiar story . . . partisans, ghettos, labor camps, starvation, harassment, torture and murder.

The same methods were used by the Nazis in towns and villages throughout Ukraine in what is now known as the “Holocaust by Bullets.”

The Nazis first arrived in Kosów Poleski in July 1941. A year later, on July 25, 1942 (Av 10, 5702), the slaughter began.

Pesach’s shoemaking skills made him valuable to the Nazis. He and other artisans were separated from the other men.

Dvora was one of the many who were murdered. From The Memorial Book . . .

Because of the informing from some peasants, they brought Henie (Szymon Jajszczyk's), Frejdel Pakter (Haim Busel's wife) and Dwora, Pejsach Rubinowicz's (the shoemaker) wife, in addition. When they took Frejdel Pakter out, she called out to her husband who was standing in the artisan's line: Chaim, do you not need me anymore; have you had enough of me; am I no longer your wife? And looked at him in accusing eyes because he had remained alive. It was different with Dwora, Pejsach Rubinowicz's wife. She took off [[Page 32]] the top layers of her clothes and threw them on her husband, shouting: Take these, Pejsach, you will be cold; wear these and take care of yourself. (It later turned out that she hid money in these clothes.) Ultimately she burst out with hysterical cries and started pulling out her hair until even the Ukrainians were astonished. One of them approached her from behind and gave her a blow with his rifle butt, and she fell down right away. They put them all into the cars and took them to Mereczowszczyzna.

• Mieračoŭščyna was a nearby manor home (aka “the castle.”) See more details below.

• There is no mention of the children or how they were murdered. Because Dvora was in hiding, I wonder if the children had already died from a year of starvation in the ghetto.

Over and over, the Nazis moved Pesach and the other artisans from one location to another.

The last move was by cattle car to the Blizyn Forced Labor Camp. The horrendous trip is described in great detail in The Memorial Book. The artisans who survived the cattle car trip remained at the Blizyn Forced Labor Camp for about one year; Pesach was among them.

Some time that year, Pesach died. The cause of death was either typhus or hunger, which were both rampant in the camp. By Passover 1944, one artisan remained, Meir Kuliszewski, who shared the stories of the artisans.

“When the Red Army liberated Kosów Poleski in June 1944, 26 Jews survived.”

Source: https://kehilalinks.jewishgen.org/kosava/

In 1958 a school and schoolyard were built on the site of the Kosova Jewish cemetery, leaving no trace of the graves that lie beneath. In another area where no cemetery was ever recorded, a few Jewish headstones lie flat showing signs of vandalism.

Source: https://kehilalinks.jewishgen.org/kosava/

Near present-day Kosova, Belarus, is Mieračoŭščyna (aka “the castle”), birthplace of Tadeusz Kościuszko (1746-1817), a hero in Poland, Lithuania, Belarus and the United States. Kościuszko was a champion of the disadvantaged from his earliest years. In America, he was a brigadier general in the Continental Army, an abolitionist, and a friend of Thomas Jefferson. At his reconstructed manor home stands a stone with a plaque explaining that the manor became the site of a 20th century mass murder.

“Here lie the remains of more than 3,000 Jews, residents of Kossovo, shot by German Nazis in 1942.”

The Wikipedia entry for Mieračoŭščyna makes no mention of this stone, the atrocities that preceded the murders or the role of the local police and peasants. These omissions echo the disappearance of the town’s four synagogues, and the town’s decision to build a school and schoolyard on top of the Jewish cemetery. It’s ironic that the manor home of a champion of the disadvantaged became the site of a mass murder, and tragic that 80 years later the same town still cannot acknowledge the complete truth of their history.

But I do not want to close the story here.

I have no animosity toward present-day Ukrainians. Each person stands on the the merit of their own deeds.

Rabbi Shoshana Boyd Gelfand tells us “. . . even though we can no longer have an actual relationship with the people we have lost, we can have a dynamic and changing relationship through our memory of them. In this way, our memories of our loved ones literally keep them alive.”

But I don’t want to perpetually remember the suffering of the Shoah. Where are the happy memories of my Kosova relatives?