Ilia Rozenfeld Biography
Boris Molodetski
Boris Molodetski is a shortish lively man. He has a swarthy smiling face with shrewd eyes. If he finds the subject of discussion interesting he livens up, often bursts into laughter. He likes to baffle his companion asking a humorous question all of a sudden. Boris likes to express himself using rhetorical bookish language. One can tell that he has read and knows a lot. He spoke about his life with great enthusiasm. He has compiled a family photo album with great love and he collects biographical materials about all relatives. Boris lives alone in a 3-bedroom apartment on the 4th floor in Kotovskiy settlement, the farthest district in Odessa. He has only the most necessary pieces of furniture manufactured in the 1980s. Everything is ideally clean and orderly in this dwelling. Boris is a hospitable and gallant host.
My family background
My paternal great great grandfather according to the family legend owned a tavern or an inn in a town near Uman in the early 19th century. During the Karmalyuk uprising the rebels killed his whole family. [Ustim Karmalyuk, 1787-1835, leader of anti-serfdom movement in Pravoberezhnaya Ukraine. In 1832-35 he was leader of a peasants’ uprising in Podolia.] Only his 15-year old daughter survived. She was my great grandmother. Her name is not known, but we know that she was born in 1820. She became mute from grief, but she was very beautiful and a Jewish man with a Polish surname of Molodetski proposed to her. The Jewish community of the town provided dowry to her as they would to orphan girls. She became the mother of 12 sons.
One of them named Moishe-Leib Molodetski, was my grandfather. He was born in 1857 in Uman town where he married Rieva Mezhburd. In the 1890s the family moved to Grosulovo town. [Grosulovo: a town in Tiraspol district, Kherson region. In 1987 its population was 2 088 residents, 1 201 of them were Jews.] My mother and I spent our summer vacations there. My grandmother Rieva Molodetskaya died in 1921 and I never saw her, but I remember my grandfather very well. My grandfather and his family lived in a pise-walled house with thatched roof. There were two steps down the hallway and the rooms in the house were below the ground level. There were five rooms. I can only remember the bedroom. There were a timber wormed a wooden bed and a wardrobe in the bedroom. It wasn’t a poor house since there were wooden floors in it. (For example, the floors in my grandfather daughters’ houses were ground. My aunts applied clay with ochre on them every day. There were lots of fleas on the floors and they kept absinth on them, but it didn’t work well.) There was a terrible mess in my grandfather’s kitchen. The yard was also poorly kept. There was a small vegetable garden near the house. There was a cane-structured toilet in the yard. Grandfather Moishe kept two cows selling milk and dairies to his neighbors. My grandfather was deeply religious. His co-villagers called him ‘tzaddik’. He had taught in the cheder until Soviet authorities closed it in 1922.
My grandfather tried to teach me prayers, but in vain. I remember how my grandfather put on his tallit and tefillin to pray. There was a synagogue in Grosulovo and my grandfather tried to take me there, but I didn’t want to go with him. He dressed as a Jewish man should: a long black kitel, a black vest and a black quadrangular cloak with tassels on edges. He wore a black cap and a greasy kippah underneath. My grandfather’s true faith also expressed itself by the fact that he never shaved in his life, was never photographed or went to the cinema. After his wife died my grandfather remarried in 1922. His second wife’s name was Yenta, but everybody called her Anna at home. I remember that she was a bustling housewife. Grandfather Moishe died in Grosulovo in 1939. He was buried there. Yenta perished during the Great Patriotic War 1 in 1941 in Bogdanovka [village in Nikolaev region where during the war a camp for Jews with 54,000 inmates was. In Bogdanovka all the Jews were shot, with the Romanian gendarmerie, the Ukrainian police, and Sonderkommando R, made up of Volksdeutsche]. Yenta didn’t have children. My grandfather Leib and grandmother Rieva had five children, born in Grosulovo.
Basia, the oldest, was born in 1886. She had no education. In the 1910s she married a Jewish man from Petroverovka village in 35 km from Grosulovo. His name was Shika Broitman. She moved to her husband. They had few cows that provided food for their family. Basia had four children: sons Nyuma and Shaika and daughters Raya and Rieva. Shika Broitman died in 1929 at the age of 40. After Shika died grandfather Moishe moved the cows to Grosulovo and took Rieva and her children to his home. Few years later Basia married a widower name Roitershtein. He had no children. During collectivization 2 authorities demanded that they gave their cows to kolkhoz, but Basia managed to stand for one cow for the family. Roitershtein was a cheese maker and worked in a kolkhoz 3 decently. Even in 1933, when the children starved [during the famine in Ukraine] 4, he didn’t steal from the kolkhoz and didn’t allow the others to steal. Basia wasn’t deeply religious, but on Saturday she went to the synagogue. Her older son Nyuma finished a flour grinding school in Odessa. He worked somewhere in Bashkiria where he married a girl from Bashkiria. Raya went to work as a typist in court in Odessa after finishing a 7-year school. In 1940 she married a military man and they moved to Lithuania. That same year her daughter Shura was born. When the Great Patriotic War began Raya and her daughter evacuated to the rear and her husband perished at the front in 1941. Nyuma also perished at the front in the first months of the war. In August 1941 Basia, her stepmother Yenta, her husband, son Shaika and daughter Rieva who came home on vacation after finishing her first year in Odessa Medical College escaped from Grosulovo in a horse-driven wagon. In 18 kilometers from Nikolaev German tanks barred the escapists’ way. They got into a Jewish camp in Bogdanovka. Romanians treated tem more loyally than Germans, but they took away their valuables. They hardly got any food and every day another group of Jews was taken away to be shot. Yenta, Basia, her husband and son Shaika were shot on 21 December 1941. When Soviet troops were approaching in 1944 Romanians dismissed the camp and Rieva survived. After the war she finished the Medical College in Odessa and got a [mandatory] job assignment 5 in Kazakhstan. She got married and had two sons: Sasha and Yura. I didn’t know her husband. They divorced and she moved to Moldavia with her children. Rieva now lives with her older son Sasha’s family in Lugansk. She looks after her grandson. Sasha is an entrepreneur. Her younger son Yuri, an engineer, perished in Kishinev in 1993 when he was hang-gliding. Basia’s older daughter Raya returned to Odessa from evacuation. She worked as a typist in NKVD 6 office. In the middle of 1950s she married a widower whose name I don’t know. They moved to Kishinev. Raya died in 1989. Her daughter Shura and her husband moved to America a long time ago. I don’t have any information about them.
My father’s sister Surah was born in 1888. Surah, the only one of her sisters, had some elementary education. She married Solomon Shechterman. In 1919 their son Shmil was born and in 1921 daughter Mara was born. Aunt Surah was very good at sewing. On Sunday, market day, their house located across the street from the church was full: village women gave their orders to Surah. I remember Surah when she was a woman with grayish hair and her tapeline, wearing glasses with the kindest eyes behind them. There was a Ukrainian and a Jewish collective farm 7 in Grosulovo before the Great Patriotic War. Solomon worked in the council of the Jewish kolkhoz. He was a smart man and they had quite a good life. During the Great Patriotic War aunt Surah’s family evacuated to Samarkand. Shmil finished the Water Engineering College and stayed to work there. Mara married Shmil’s co-student in Samarkand. I don’t know his surname. She and her husband moved to Arkhangelsk and then to Leningrad. In 1944 their daughter Sopha was born and in 1948 their son Lyonia was born. Surah and her husband lived with their daughter’s family in Leningrad. Solomon died from lung cancer in 1952 and Surah died from her heart failure two years later. They were both buried in Leningrad. Shmil came to Odessa in 1945. Here he married Bella Melamud. I went to their wedding. They had a Jewish wedding secretly. There were tables set for the wedding party in somebody’s apartment and there was a rabbi and a chuppah. In 1946 their daughter Ira was born and in 1950 their son Marik was born. In the 1970s Shmil and his family moved to Israel. He died in 1986 and was buried in Haifa. His sister Mara, her daughter Sopha and grandson also moved to Haifa where they live now. Mara’s son Lyonia works as a psychologist in a center of psychological rehabilitation in Petersburg.
My father’s brother Isaac was born in Grosulovo in 1895. He studied in cheder. Since 1925 Isaac lived in Odessa. My father gave him a room in our apartment. Isaac worked in commerce. In our family he had a reputation of a light-minded man. He enjoyed good company, liked singing and courting ladies. He married Zhenia Sharapan, a Jewish woman. She worked in commerce. In 1928 their son Solomon was born and in 1935 their daughter Rachil was born. After his daughter was born Isaac received a vacant apartment in our house. During the Great Patriotic War Isaac’s family lived in Tashkent. Uncle Isaac wasn’t recruited to the front due to his health condition. After the war they returned to Odessa. We didn’t communicate with them much. His wife worked in the department store in Deribassovskaya Street. She died in the 1950s. Their son Solomon died of stomach ulcer in 1964 at the age of 36. At the end of his life Isaac became deeply religious and spent his days at the synagogue. He died in 1974. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery and Jews from the community recited a memorial prayer. After he died his daughter Rachil and her family moved to Israel.
My father’s brother Yolik was born in 1897. He received elementary education in Grosulovo. In 1927 Yolik, his wife Lisa, their son Mulia and daughter Rieva came to Odessa. They settled down in a damp room in the basement in #107, Bolshaya Arnautskaya Street. There was running water in this room, but no other comforts. Yolik went to work as a janitor at first and then as a storekeeper at a fruit and vegetable storage facility. Before the war he and his family moved to an apartment in Knizhny Lane. Yolik was a nice and a hearty man. His wife Lisa was the best cook ever. She always made excellent food for family celebrations. After her guests left she did the cleaning and washing even if it took her until morning to finish. I haven’t seen such housewives in my life again. I remember Lisa’s cooking: her gefilte fish and strudels for Pesach. However, their family wasn’t religious. When the Great Patriotic War began Yolik’s son Mulia was recruited to the army and perished during defense of Odessa. Yolik’s family was in evacuation in a kolkhoz near Tashkent. Uncle Yolik was an infantry sergeant. He was a regiment logistics assistant. Once uncle Yolik asked soldiers to pick wheat grains on a field, brought a stone mill from an abandoned mill, found bakers in a village and provided excellent white bread to the regiment for two weeks. In 1943 he demobilized and took his wife and daughter to Odessa. After the war uncle Yolik worked as assistant chief of a fruit and vegetable storage base. Rieva married Abram Topchinski, a Jewish man. Abram was sales manager at the Odessa resistance unit plant. They had two sons: Roma and Igor. In 1962 uncle Yolik fell ill with stomach cancer. He died in 1964. I was at his funeral in the Jewish cemetery. Old Jews from the community recited a memorial prayer. Yolik’s wife Lisa died in 1975. Rieva’s family moved to America in 1993. They live in San Diego. Her sons keep few vehicles for transportation of handicapped to a polyclinic. Rieva died of breast cancer in 1994. Her husband Abram lives with his sons.
My father Gersh Molodetski was born in Grosulovo in 1891. The whole family built up their hopes with him as an older son. He studied in cheder and later learned to read and write in Russian by himself. My grandfather wanted him to become a rabbi and sent him to yeshivah in Kishinev when he turned 16. After studying there a year my father decided he didn’t like it and ran away to Odessa. He stayed at the railway station in Odessa. He had no documents until Odessa police office issued a temporary residential permit to him. He managed to find a job. In 1912 my father was recruited to the army. At first he served in an artillery unit in a fortress in Vladivostok and in 1913 he moved to Kharbin. In spring 1917 their regiment was sent to the Southern Front. When the train was in about 30 km from Grosulovo my father jumped off and walked to his village: he deserted the army. Nobody searched him. During the Civil War 8, in 1918 he was in a group of a self-defense unit consisting of local residents who were trying to defend their town from gangs 9 raging in the vicinity. Once bandits requested a truce envoy to be sent to them. My father went there carrying a white cloth. They didn’t reach any agreement, but when my father was on his way back they wounded him in his leg. In late 1918 my father moved to Odessa. His acquaintance from Grosulovo let him stay in his dwelling and helped him to become an assistant accountant apprentice. Shortly afterward my father met my mother. I don’t know any details.
My maternal grandfather Ber Yeschin was born approximately in the 1850s in the town of Sosnitsa of Chernigov province. He was a widower. His children from the first marriage son Lyonia and daughter Nora communicated with their stepsisters. During the Civil War Lyonia Yeschin moved to America. I saw him in 1977 when my wife and I visited aunt Minna in Miami. Nora Yeschina worked as a doctor in the tuberculosis clinic in Odessa, in the 1980s she and her husband Erik moved to Boston, USA. She died in 2002. This is all I know about them.
Grandfather Ber and his second wife Matlia and their five children lived in the town of Sosnitsa of Chernigov province. Later they moved to Odessa where they lived in a poor apartment in Bolgarskaya Street. Three more daughters were born there. I don’t know my grandfather’s profession. They said grandfather Ber was very religious and never got photographed since his faith didn’t allow this. However, when his favorite daughter Minna moved to America he broke the rule and had his photograph made to send her the picture. This is all information I have about my grandfather after whom I was named. He died long before I was born. It happened on 15 July 1914 in Odessa. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery.
My maternal grandmother Matlia Yeschina was born in the 1860s in the town of Sosnitsa of Chernigov province. Her maiden name was Garbovitzer. My grandmother finished a public school. In 1927 my grandmother went to visit her daughters in America, but since she left her five daughters here she returned in 1930. Grandmother Matlia lived in the neighboring house in an apartment with her two single daughters. Grandmother Matlia knew Yiddish, but she usually spoke Russian. She wore black clothes and a black shawl. At home she wore a kerchief. She was very religious. On Yom Kippur, when grandmother Matlia spent all day through at the synagogue and fasted she got so weak that my mother and I went to the synagogue to pick her up and had to lead her by her elbows two blocks. She had special crockery to use at Pesach, but she was the only one to use it since her daughters were not religious and didn’t observe these traditions. When the war began grandmother Matlia didn’t want to evacuate however hard her daughters tried to convince her. She said ‘Be what may’. Her younger daughter Ghenia stayed with her. My neighbors told me afterward that when Romanians came they took them along with other Jews to powder storages in Tolbukhin Street and burned them in autumn 1941.
My mother’s older sister Betia was born in Sosnitsa in 1883. She got married in Odessa and in 1907 she and her husband moved to America. Her single sister Sonia, born in 1885, went with her. We have no information about them.
My mother’s sister Nechama was born in Sosnitsa in 1987. She got married in Odessa. Her husband David Valter, a tailor, was a communist of the Lenin’s appeal, which means that he joined the Party in 1924, the year when Lenin 10 died. They lived in Odessa and were very poor. In 1923 their son Boris was born. I remember that my parents always gave them some food. When in the early 1930s they declared the establishment of the Jewish Autonomous Republic David was one of the first to take his family to Birobidjan 11. They had a very miserable life there. Nechama died in Birobidjan in 1947. David and his son Boris moved to Samarkand. Boris was an adventurist. After the war he worked as an insurance agent. He appropriated something, escaped from punishment and presented himself to me in Odessa asking me to help him go to the army. He almost put me in danger of arrest. I terminated my communication with him.
My mother’s sister Minna was born in Sosnitsa in 1893. She moved to America in 1912. She married Danil Leonidov who emigrated from the town of Khashchevato, Kirovograd region. Danil lived in France before the revolution. He was a socialist and listened to Lenin’s lectures in Longjumeau near Paris. In America he tried many jobs, but he was a failure. He owned a fur store in New York, but went bankrupt. Then he tried to open a recreation center in Miami, but failed. Minna worked as a medical nurse and somehow kept the situation under control. They didn’t have any children. My mother corresponded with Minna. She was afraid that this might have an impact on my military career and she mailed her letters to Minna husband’s sisters in Khashchevato from where they mailed them in their envelopes to Minna. Minna supported her sisters in Odessa. In 1930 she bought a trip to the USSR for the only reason that the route included Odessa. I saw her then. We all cried. She had a room in Londonskaya hotel, but she stayed with grandmother Matlia. Minna brought three suitcases of presents for all of us. She gave my father a gray suit with vinous stripes. After World War II my mother altered this suit and made a coat for herself and then she altered it again making a coat for my son. It looked nice. Some time in 1970 Danil died. My wife and I visited Minna in 1977. She died in 1986.
My mother’s sister Mary was born in Odessa in 1900. She had some education. In the early 1920s aunt Mary who was one of the best employees in the garment industry in an enterprise in Odessa, was elected a member of the town council. Aunt Mary wore trendy clothes that she made herself. She got married at the age of 30 in 1934. Mary’s husband Rafail Khromoy was born in Khahchevato village, Kirovograd region in 1902. We have a picture of his mother Dvoira Khromaya in our family album. Rafail worked in the Zagotzerno [grain supplies] system and I suspect he did some dealing and wheeling there. In 1935 their daughter Ella was born. During the Great Patriotic War Ella and her daughter evacuated. Ella worked in a kolkhoz near Tashkent. Rafail flatly refused to evacuate hoping to start his own business when Germans came. His neighbors told us that he perished in the ghetto. After the war Mary and her daughter returned to Odessa. Aunt Mary worked at the garment factory. Ella finished 7 years at school and went to work in the sales department of the resistance unit plant. Ella married Victor Levin, a Jewish man. Victor worked in the accounting office at the plant and did some swindling ; he paid salaries under forged payrolls. He was imprisoned for doing this. Aunt Mary died of lung cancer in 1968. Ella and her children – her husband had died before – moved to New Zealand in 1980 and then to Sydney.
My mother’s sister Sheva was born in Odessa in 1905. She studied in a Jewish elementary school where she also learned to sew. She was single. She wasn’t religious. During the Great Patriotic War she evacuated and worked in a kolkhoz near Tashkent. After the war she returned to Odessa and worked as leading knitwear modeler at the garment factory. There was a knitwear store in Paster Street where aunt Sheva had an office. She was making garments for exhibitions. Once in the middle of the 1960s she was invited to an exhibition in Marseilles, but she flatly refused to go there. She said ‘They will crimp me!’ [Sheva was afraid of being crimped by foreign intelligence.] At first I laughed at those fears of hers, then I tried to make her change her mind, but it didn’t work. In the last years of her life she had severe sclerosis and we had to keep her under permanent watch of a medical nurse in a center of the Black Sea shipyard. Our distant relative helped aunt Sheva to get there and after she died in 1991 this relative got her apartment. Sheva was buried in the Tairovskoye [town international] cemetery.
My mother’s youngest sister Ghenia was born in Odessa in 1908. Se was a typist in an office. She was single. I remember that she was a whining and lamenting type. When I became a doctor I diagnosed that she had a Graves’ disease that provoked such behavior. [It is an autoimmune disorder resulting from a combination of genetic and environmental factors, the most common symptoms of it are nervousness and anxiety.] Ghenia perished with grandmother Matlia in Odessa in 1941.
My mother Chaya Molodetskaya was born in the town of Sosnitsa of Chernigov province in 1889. The family moved to Odessa when my mother was still a baby. The family had lower than average income. My mother finished an elementary Jewish school for girls where she also had sewing training. My mother used to sew at home.
Growing up
My parents got married on 7 June 1919. They had a civil ceremony. There was no religious wedding. My parents settled down in a basement in the end of Bazarnaya Street. In early 1920, when she was pregnant, my mother moved to my father’s sister Basia in Petroverovka to eat better food. This was at the time of the Civil War and once ataman of a gang that came to Petroverovka ordered to take all Jews to the square to kill them. My mother was in this crowd. She told me that they survived by chance: that very moment someone shouted to ataman that Kotovskiy 12 was in 5 versts from the village and they all rode away hurriedly. I was born in Odessa on 10 August 1921. I remember myself in a small damp room on the ground floor of a brick house in 10, Bolshaya Arnautskaya Street. For me the greatest pleasure was to get into my father’s bed when he brought coal from the basement in the morning and watch him stoking the stove. We had a cooperative of tenants and housing manager. Tenants arranged meeting to discuss any maintenance issues in the yard. They brought down chairs, a table and someone put a bulb out of their window. We got along well with our neighbors. There was no anti-Semitism before the war. Only someone Kovalenko who lived in the basement and provided woodcutting services to tenants spoke negatively about Jews in the yard. When in 1925 a three-bedroom apartment on the 2nd floor in our house got vacant a meeting of tenants decided to give it to us. There was a tiled stove in a big room, an old folding oak dining table, a sofa and a cupboard that my parents ordered from a cabinetmaker. It was very beautiful with stained glass folds and copper shields at the bottom. There were two beds with string mattresses in another room, a small desk, a sideboard and a wardrobe. Uncle Isaac and his family resided in the third room. There was an old box with copper belts around it in the hallway. My mother kept old clothes in it. In summer she aired them on the balcony. There were ostrich feathers, my mother’s old embroidery pieces and an unfinished quilt rug. There were embroidered napkins on the furniture in our apartment. In 1928 our house was overhauled and the floors painted to imitate parquet.
My mother was a housewife. She was raising me. She never let me play with other boys in the street. She told me that they would teach me bad things. I was sitting on the balcony suffering terribly. My mother took me for walks always holding me by my hand. During such walks I learned to read on store signs. It was the second half of NEP 13, and there were many colorful signs on private stores. My aunts Sheva and Mary didn’t have children and were spoiling me a lot. They often made me clothes. They lived with grandmother Matlia and were our neighbors. My mother and father spoke Russian at home, but when they decided that there was something I shouldn’t know they switched to Yiddish. I knew some words in Yiddish. My father worked as an accountant in Tserabkoop on the corner of Pushkinskaya and Deribassovskaya Streets. He audited stores and shops. Once I heard him saying to somebody ‘Just go away, I want to sleep quietly’. And then the door closed. It was a guilty director of a store asking my father to come to his help. My father didn’t have many clothes, but he kept them clean. At work he wore black over sleeves. I remember that for three years in a row he wore a khaki shirt, boots and trousers of thick fabric. It turned out that it was prison wardens’ uniform and he managed to get one somehow. My father was a melancholic person. He had acting talents. When we had guests occasionally he used to read Sholem Alechem 14 to them in Russian and Yiddish. We visited my father’s colleague Spivak in Pochtovaya Street. Those were quiet evenings: they talked and told jokes. There was no singing, dancing or drinking.
My parents were not religious. I was a convinced atheists and turned my head away when I passed by a church. We celebrated Soviet holidays at home, but never Jewish holidays. We lived a modest life, but we always had good food. My mother believed food was of the utmost importance. She could make do with whatever she had to wear, but she liked to eat heartily and loved to make food for us. My mother valued chicken. Our standard lunch consisted of chicken broth with rice and a piece of chicken with garnish. She also cooked gefilte fish and dishes from matzah. However, she rarely cooked with matzah since we could only get it at the synagogue and at this period it had to be done in secret. When I got ill my mother made me cutlets from big bullheads. I liked them so much that I used to tell mother ‘I wish I got ill!’ She cooked on a primus stove. I was responsible for the stove: I had to refill kerosene, watch needle stocks and clean the head. I took the stove to the open staircase behind the backdoor, took the head and stretching my hands off the handrails cleaned the soot. Sometimes I had to go stand in line for kerosene at 5 o’clock in the morning. I used to stand 3-4 hours before I could buy 2 liters of kerosene.
At the age of 8 I went to Russian school #48. Before going to the 6th grade I wore stockings on the waistband, knee-long pants and a fustian jacket. When in 1930 aunt Minna came from America she gave me a woolen pullover. This was a tiptop. In summer I wore canvas shoes on rubber soles, hopsack trousers and a white shirt and I believed I was dressed luxuriously. I didn’t always have boots in winter: there were coupons for winter boots. At home I wore slippers that my mother made to save. In 1931, when uncle Isaac moved out his room was given to Lyova Dikkerman, a Jewish shoemaker, and his wife Ida. We got along well with them. Lyova’s wife and my mother used to chat when cooking in the common kitchen. Ida addressed my mother with ‘Madam Molodetskaya’. Lyova earned additionally working at home and his clients went to see him across the kitchen where we had our meals. All my childhood passed to the banging of a shoe hammer.
In 1932 my father went to work in a closed store of NKVD. Life became easier for us. During the period of famine my father received food packages and flour. My mother baked rolls, but she didn’t give any to take to school since there were hungry children around. Our school director was a well-known pedagog in our town. His name was Grigori Markovich Radzinski. He became director of school #100 in 1935 and he hired the best teachers and took the best pupils from his previous school. There were pedagogical experiments conducted in our school. One of them was a method of teamwork. Grades were divided into groups consisting of one pupils with strong knowledge and few weaker ones. Teachers usually asked head pupils in a group to come to the blackboard to answer and then they put same marks to the rest of his team as he got. The other pupils in my group did nothing. They ran around or played chess. There was no anti-Semitism in our school. Most of my classmates were Jews. Misha Beiderman, our best pupil, impressed us with the width of his literary interests. For example, he read Omar Hayam or Shakespeare. [Omar Hayam's approximate years of life 1048–1122. In 1070 he moved to Samarkand in Uzbekistan which is one of the oldest cities of Central Asia. He was an outstanding mathematician and astronomer, well known as a result of Edward Fitzgerald's popular translation in 1859 of nearly 600 short four line poems the Rubaiyat.] He was head boy of our class and Komsomol 15 secretary. My friend Igor Chop told me that Misha tried hard to convince him to repudiate from his father who was imprisoned in 1937 [during Great Terror] 16, for his former service in the tsarist army as an officer. In our class no parents of schoolchildren were arrested, but in the parallel class there were about five children whose parents had been arrested. Our director Mr. Radzinski was a decent person. He supported these children. Igor Chop recently told me that director called him to his office to say words of support. Once on a Soviet holidays we were in the theater where a representative of Komsomol district committee greeted us with general phrases I said aloud: ‘Again propaganda for the Soviet power!’ Our history teacher was sitting beside me. She heard what I said and on the following day she called my mother to school and said ‘You are playing with fire when you allow yourself to talk dangerously in the presence of your child’. At nights people in our house didn’t sleep listening to booted steps in the yard: to which entrance they headed again? My father returned home late and sat reading a newspaper until very late. He was very concerned about the situation, but he kept silent about it. In 1937 few of my mother’s acquaintances suffered, but she didn’t discuss it with me, although I was already 16 years old. My mother was a law-obedient person. She strictly followed whatever orders issued by higher authorities.
When I was a senior pupil I got fond of classical music. My friend Lyusik Rozenblit had an acquaintance who was administrator in the Opera Theater. We went to Rigoletto [opera by Giuseppe Verdi, famous Italian composer of the 19th century], with Mr. Savchenko, a famous baritone. In the area of Rigoletto, a jester, in Act 2, the actor was falling from the 2nd step of a staircase and we only went to see Act 2. My friends and I also went to see the Blue Blouse performances where they sang ‘We are trade union members and we wear blue blouses, we shall give all bourgeois our answer’. [Ed. note: Blue Blouse was the worker’s amateur propaganda group.] I finished school in 1939. I had my father’s jacket altered to wear it to my prom. I had all excellent marks in my certificate and was admitted to the Medical College without exams. We never heard about any limitations for Jewish appellants to colleges. I didn’t dream about medicine, but I joined my friends Boris Reznik and Grisha Golderberg (both Jews) were going to enter the Medical College and I decided to join them. I enjoyed studying there and the more I learned the more I got attracted to this profession. We had highly qualified lecturers. I earned money to buy the first suit in my life when I was the first-year student: I gave private classes to a pupil. I bought a cut of cheviot and to have the suit made in a garment shop I had to go stand in line at 5 o’clock in the morning.
When we were first-year students an order was issued canceling all privileges for students. We became subject to service in the army. Since I had inguinal hernia and a medical commission in the military registry office made a conclusion: fit for military service with limitations, reserve of the 2nd turn. My best friend Boris Reznik was recruited to the army in 1940. When the war began Boris was a political officer in the army. He took part in the Kursk Battle 17 and returned from the war in the rank of guard captain. After the war he finished Odessa Medical College with honors and worked in the district hospital in Novaya Odessa village of Niklaev region. In 1956 he moved to Odessa and worked as chief doctor of the urology department in Odessa regional hospital. Now he is a pensioner.
During the war
In winter 1941 I fell ill with angina. I didn’t stay in bed and it resulted in rheumatic heart disease. I was bedridden for 4 months. We had a premonition of a war while newspapers wrote that we were friends with Germany and the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact 18 was executed: this was confusing. Shortly before the war my father and I bought a nice 10-valve receiver. I was very proud of it. We listened to radio transmissions and music. On 22 June 1941 we didn’t turn on our receiver. Our neighbor Ida had her radio on. I heard her saying: ‘Madam Molodetskaya, Molotov 19 will speak on the radio’. I got scared; I realized there was going to be a war. I remember that Ida burst into tears: she had two children.
On 22 July at 9 o’clock in the morning the first bombing of Odessa happened. On the following day my father and I were walking along Zhukovskogo Street past shell-holes and smoldering ruined houses. We were heading to the military office in school #117. At the beginning of the war my father was to turn 50 a month later, but he received a subpoena and went to the registry office. Even younger men ignored such calls. When we were on the way back he said ‘Tell mother there was nothing I could do to avoid it’, but I knew that he didn’t even try. At first he was sent to Mariupol and then to Moscow to excavate trenches and long-lasting fortifications.
We began to hide in bomb-shelters and fight with fire-bombs. We wore gauntlets and grabbed a fire-bomb throwing it into a barrel with water. We even used to joke ‘if a fire-bomb drops into your yard throw it into your neighbor’s window’. We had our belongings packed in two bags at home in case of fire. Uncle Isaac’s wife had a relative working in Odessa defense committee. He gave us ship boarding tickets for four. Isaac offered two to my mother and me. We got on a truck and covered Isaac’s children six-year-old Rieva and 13-year-old Solomon with tarpolin. In Tamozhennaya Street some military stopped our truck, but they didn’t inspect it. A first lieutenant stood on a footboard and asked ‘Four people? Go ahead’. At that time a terrible bombing began. I was sitting encompassing my head with my arms, staring on the ground and thinking ‘Well, it’s O’K’. We had to climb a ladder to get on our ship called Kamenets-Podolsk where they also checked documents. Uncle Isaac made an arrangement with a loader who lifted the children on board in a bag with luggage. We, four adults boarded with our tickets.
Four days later we arrived in Mariupol. We were accommodated in the foyer of the theater in Mariupol. We sat and slept on our bags for four days. After the first bombing of Mariupol we ran to the railway station. There was a train with open platforms heading to Kuban. We climbed those platforms. When we were going past the railway station in Rostov-on-the-Don some people were shouting to us ‘Hey, zhydy, are you scarpering to the rear?’ It was distressing. In Shkurinskaya railway station we received free borsch. We arrived in Stalingrad on 1 September 1941. It was quiet there. Then we went to Sverdlovsk where we heard by chance that there were many people from Odessa in Alma-Ata [4,125 km from Odessa]. My mother and I headed to Alma-Ata and uncle Isaac and his family moved to Tashkent [3,200 from Odessa]. In Alma-Ata I went to the Kazakh Medical College. My co-student Grisha Goldenberg added missing credit marks into my record book and I was enlisted on the third course. This enabled me to avoid recruitment to the army. We lived in a hostel. We were supposed to complete an academic year’s course in half a year, but somehow it did not seem possible. We got up to have military training at 6 o’clock in the morning and we also learned to ride a motorcycle. There was one motorcycle and took a nap while waiting for our turn to ride. The only meal available was pasta with no fat. This food didn’t satisfy the hunger. There were 6 tenants in our room. One was on duty and the others slept to save the energy. Every morning the one on duty went to the diner with a tin kettle. He filled it with pasta. We stuffed our stomachs, but we felt starved by lunchtime. There were lectures after lunch. I also went to work as medical nurse boy in the first surgery polyclinic. I was on duty every third night. After working overnight I returned to the hostel and fell on my bed with my clothes on. I was hungry and exhausted.
My mother got an accommodation in the apartment of Chadicha Ilgamovna, a single Kazakh woman. She worked in a public library and brought me books that I chose from a catalogue. I remember that I read scripts of American films. My mother received an assignment to work in a brick plant, but she fell ill and quit. When she recovered she went to wash dishes in the canteen of the confectionery factory. Once when I was on duty in the hospital they brought in a pretty Odessite girl. She had her hand burnt with caramel. Later I came to replace her bandages since she was from Odessa and during the war even a stranger from Odessa seemed to be close. Later, when I came to see my mother at the factory she brought me a bowl full of hot chocolate, about 500 grams. Of course, I couldn’t eat it all at once. My mother gave me some brine from a barrel with pickles and after having it I could continue eating chocolate. At least I didn’t feel hungry until the following morning.
All of a sudden, on my birthday on 10 August 1942 we received a letter from my father. He wrote that he was demobilized due to his age and was heading to the south looking for us. He settled down in Krasnodar where he worked as chief accountant in the all-union scientific research institute of tobacco and makhorka. Every day he went to the railway station hoping to see somebody he knew who could tell him about us and he finally managed. On that same day I heard on the radio that our troops left Krasnodar. In early 1944 when Krasnodar was liberated my mother wrote to this address and the woman that leased a room to my father replied. She said that when Germans came they ordered all Jews to come to a gathering point and threatened with execution to those who were hiding them. My father went there to not let down his hostess. She gave a jar of honey and warm socks. From the gathering point people were transported in mobile gas chambers. This was how my father perished in 1942.
I had all excellent marks and when I was a 4th-year student I made my first surgery: appendicitis. There were 220 students from Odessa in our college. We upheld our reputation in studies and in sports. Te basketball team from Odessa became won championship in Kazakhstan: and this was regardless of lack o food. In early 1943, when I was a fifth-year student I got another job: I lectured on sanitary standards in the railroad technical school and received a rail man coupon for 800 grams of bread. Even when I was exhausted after a night’s work in hospital I shaved before going to lectures: I was their teacher. On 3 July 1943 I received my diploma with honors and became a certified therapist. I also was awarded a book Recipe Manual and a ticket to ballet performance Giselle with Galina Ulanova [Galina Sergeyevna Ulanova – a prominent Soviet ballerina]. On the following day we received subpoenas to the military office.
We arrived at the front in Nezhin on 6 November 1943. Our hospital assigned to the First Byelorussian Front was in a ruined building. We placed bricks into window frames and installed cleaned X-Ray tape to make a window leaf. Surgeons were released from doing repair works, but to engage us they sent us to a neighboring village to get some cattle. The villagers let their dogs free seeing us and we had to return with nothing.
We were following advancing troops to the West. Our hospital was near the railway station in Sarny, Rovno region. The station was continuously bombed and we moved to Tutovichi station in 8 km from Sarny. We lived in earth huts that our patients helped us to dig. In one earth hut women were accommodated and men in another. There were two couples living in a civil marriage: they had two small separate earth huts made for them. We built a barrack with a diner and a storeroom and also we made a club in a tent spread on two posts. There were swarms of mosquitoes exhausting us. They hummed exactly like German Heinkel aircraft. We set green spruce cones on fire in tins from American tinned meat: it generated acrid thick smoke. We installed it in the dwelling and when the smoke filled it one of us keeping his breath ran inside and grabbed the tin to take it outside. We hanged a gauze curtain on the door. This helped us to get rid of mosquitoes.
My department of slightly wounded patients was in a barrack. There were plank beds along the walls. In the corner we made a curtain for a bandage room. I had 200 patients almost all of them were wounded in their limbs. I developed a conveyer method that was approved at the military medical conference in Brest in 1944. The procedure was as follows: two patients came in and lay on a couch. A medical assistant removed dressing from one patient and a medical nurse started treatment of the wound and then they switched to another patient and the first one was ready for me. Working with his wound I dictated to senior nurse making records. Then the assistant applied bandage on the first patient and I switched to another one.
Attendants in the hospital washed bandages, but they took the rest of laundry to special laundry units. Many patients had fleas. I managed to escape this by changing my underwear every day. This was rough cheap cotton underwear and when you moved your shoulders it felt like a bast whisp brush. We often washed in the sanitary washroom. There were huge 500 L tubs connected to a boiler. Patients and hospital employees had meals in the dining room. We had good food. There was always a nice piece of meat in borsch or soup. This was our base food. We received uniforms in the storeroom. We chose a bigger size overcoat to have it altered by a tailor when we lodged in a town. Some women even managed to have puffed sleeves made in their coats. There was a shoemaker among our patients. He could make nice boots from a pair of hospital slippers and ground sheet. They were light and nice, although they were khaki color that was against the rules. We applied black shoe polish and managed to polish them to glitter and they looked as the best boxcalf boots.
I was elected Komsomol leader of the hospital. My attendance of all party meetings was compulsory. There was a staff propagandist in our hospital. He read us newspapers in our political training classes in the morning. He also watched that girls behaved decently. He checked them peeping into their windows in the evening. There was one Smersh [special secret military unit for elimination of spies, under the slogan ‘Death to spies’] officer per 2-3 hospitals. Once I had to address one. A train with the wounded arrived at our hospital. Every patient had records of his wounds. Some wounded had a package. This meant that they had had surgeries. I noticed that one patient with a wound in his right hand behaved differently turning away from everybody. I approached him and opened his package. There was a paper with ‘verdict of the military field court’ in it. It turned out to be a self-inflicted wound. I was bound to find a Smersh officer to notify him. He thanked me, took this patient on a truck and they left.
When the ‘Bagration’ operation [Belarus operation of the Soviet army in the summer of 1944. The invasion force consisted of 1,700,000 troops supported by 6,000 planes, nearly 3,000 tanks, and 24,000 artillery pieces. This attack cost the Germans more men and material than the defeat at Stalingrad.] began, we had many patients arriving to the hospital. I was on duty when once they took a patient with a misfire ‘frog’-mine that stuck between his chest and shoulder blade. I called chief surgeon, but he got scared and refused to help me. I cursed to myself and found a field engineer. His last name was Smirnov. He was slightly wounded. A medical nurse prepared two sets of surgical tools on two tables. I ordered the others to stay at least 50 m away from surgery tent. I asked this field engineer where I could make a cut and only when he said it was all right I moved my scalpel. When we removed the mine Smirnov placed it in a box with sand and soon I heard an explosion. For this surgery I was awarded a Red Star Order. Later I corresponded with that Tajik villager for five years.
In 1945 we were in Garvolin base in a small village in Poland. The troops advanced 200-300 km to the west and we were behind them. Finally a bus arrived to pick us up. On the way we were singing Russian popular songs ‘Na solnechnoi polianochke’ [On the sunny glade], ‘V lesu prifrontovom’ [In the front-line forest]. We were in high spirits considering that we were moving to the west. It was dark already and we were driving past a soldier with his rifle. He looked at us strangely and then began to shoot in the air. We stopped and he ran toward us ‘Where are you driving, damn you!’ It turned out to be the last combat security post and there were German troops ahead. We almost drove to German disposition singing songs.
At the end of the war our hospital was in Straussburg town 28 km from Berlin. On 2 May 1945 chief of hospital put us on a truck and we went sightseeing to Berlin. We signed on the Reichstag. We were told to not come inside houses. There were many mined things in them. On 9 May we got to know that Germans signed capitulation and by two o’clock in the morning we began to receive patients again. It turned out they saluted from different weapons without looking where they were shooting and wounded many people.
After the war
In 1945 I came to Odessa to visit my mother who returned from evacuation. There was a family living in our apartment. I came in my uniform and an order on my chest, put my gun on the table and said ‘Either you give one room to my mother and I am leaving or I shall stay until you move out of here!’ They accepted the first option and later they moved out. Our furniture was stolen. I saw our sofa in our janitor’s apartment and brought it back home. Our neighbors told us how grandmother and Ghenia perished. They were reluctant to tell us the story since they couldn’t do anything to help them. My neighbor Dasha who did people’s laundry kept a suitcase with valuables that my friend Boris Reznik’s father gave her before evacuation.
After the war I served in Bobruysk in Byelarus. Every month I sent my mother 10 kilograms of flour and half of my salary. She didn’t even have a food card. In 1947 I met my future wife Lidia Vdovina in the hospital. We got married two years later. Lidia is Russian. She was born to a wealthy family in Gornoaltaysk in 1922. Lidia didn’t tell me about her father since he had left the family and the town. Her mother Maria Yakovlevna Tabakaeva was born in 1886. She was a plain woman and could hardly read or write. She died in 1964. Lidia had two sisters and a brother. Her brother Vasili perished at the front in 1943. Her older sister Anna was a teacher of elementary school. She died in 1974. All I know about Lidia’s sister Tatiana is that she died in 2001. Before the war Lidia finished an obstetrician school in Gornoaltaysk. During the war she was an assistant doctor and joined the Party.
When I got married I only had one suit. I gave my mother all money I earned. My wife also supported her mother and she wore a coat with shoulder straps removed from it. Even in 1950 I still didn’t have a coat and was upset to have to wear my military overcoat to a New Year party in the house of officers. When we came in I took my hand off her elbow so that my fellow comrades didn’t notice my miserable material condition. In the regiment where I served as chief doctor pilots of an air force logistics base pilots made contributions to a fund 1000 rubles each and then drew lots and whoever got lucky bought a Moskwich or Pobeda car [Soviet cars]. Within a year all pilots got new cars.
The period of Doctors’ Plot 20 didn’t have any impact on me. I knew that accusations against leading doctors in the Soviet medical science about purposeful poisoning of the population were obviously made up. However, I didn’t dare to express my critical opinion about it to anyone. Nobody changed their attitude to me at my work. Besides, chief of our hospital was a Jewish man. Two days before Stalin died I read a report on his health condition in a newspaper and thought that it indicated that he had a stroke, his Chain-Stocks breathing and other symptoms, this indicated that he was dying. When Stalin died my wife who was a communist said like everybody else around ‘How will we go on living?’ I didn’t share her opinion since I believed that Stalin was a dictator and had been thinking so for a while. My only concern was that Beriya 21, this butcher of a man, could win the struggle for power.
On 9 January 1952 my son Grisha was born. We lived in Chernyshevskoye village, in Nesterov district, Kaliningrad region. I worked as a military doctor in a military unit. We very poor living conditions. I had to fetch water in buckets onto the third floor. We cooked on a kerogas stove. On 31 January 1953 my daughter Zoya was born in Chernyshevskoye. In 1956 we moved to Paplaka in Latvia. It was a district town. There were an artillery and tank regiments near this town. They had a medical unit, a bakery and a bathtub. I served as chief of medical unit in the rank of a major. We stayed there for over a year.
In 1957 I was in Odessa on vacation. My mother told me that her friend’s cousin Zlatko returned from ‘there’, meaning from imprisonment, a former secretary of a district Party committee in Odessa who had spent 20 years in prison. I went to see him and he told me about it, but not everything about it. He still had fear rooted deep in him. I think glory to Khrushchev 22 that he was brave enough to speak the truth about Stalin on the 20th Congress 23. Khrushchev had many imperfections. He was a voluntary and made a mistake with his corn ideas: I saw corn fields in Latvia when I served there: the plants were maximum half meter high. [During Khrushchev’s rule corn was widely grown in the USSR without consideration of climatic specifics of regions]. In the early 1960s I read ‘One day of Ivan Denisovich’ by Solzhenitsyn 24. It made a big impression on me.
At the age of 6 my son fell ill with asthma and I requested a transfer to Belgorod-Dnestrovsk town in Odessa military regiment in 1958. They reduced me in the rank, though. In 1962 I was appointed senior doctor of the regiment. The Party organizer of our regiment exhausted me with his talks that I should join the Party. I saw how shaky a position of Jews in the army was. The policy was to put no obstacles to resignations and to not promote. Deputy political officer Frolov used to tell me that I had to be the best being Jewish or they would pick on me if they got a chance. I understood that if I didn’t demonstrate my loyalty to the party they would force me to quit, but I had two children to think about. Chief of headquarters and commander of the regiment gave me their recommendations and three months later I was elected a Party organizer of the headquarters. I had 48 party members under my supervision.
In Belgorod-Dnestrovsk our children studied well at school and had many friends. They didn’t face any anti-Semitism. In their birth certificates in the line item ‘birth origin’ Russian was written. Grisha was a quiet boy. He liked reading books and playing chess with me. He was good at technical things. Zoya was very vivid. She went to a ballet school.
In 1969 I demobilized from the army and moved to Odessa with my family. We came to live with my mother. Two years later I received an apartment and offered my mother to live with us, but she said she wanted to live alone. She moved in with us in 1975 in a five-bedroom apartment on the 9th floor of a building in Kotovskiy district. My mother died of gullet cancer four years later in 1979. We buried her in the Tairovskoye cemetery. I worked as a surgeon urologist in town hospital #8, and then I changed work several times, but I always had this same position. I had four articles published and did scientific work.
In 1969 Grisha finished school. He tried to enter the Law Faculty in Odessa University twice. They required some work experience for admission to this Faculty and preference was given to young militiamen. After working in a social insurance department for a year Grisha managed to enter an evening department. I insisted that he went to work. Grisha worked as polisher/joiner in Prodmash plant. He worked night and shifts sometimes, but this helped him to become mature. Upon graduation from University Grisha worked as a lawyer at the Centrolit plant. He was in conflict with his boss (who was a Jew). He mistreated Grisha and didn’t give him an opportunity for promotions and provoked minor conflicts. Grisha quit his job and went to work as a legal consultant in the construction department of Odessa military regiment.
Zoya studied in the 9th and 10th grades in school #100 that I had finished. She finished school in 1970 and for 3 years in a row she tried to enter the Faculty of Foreign languages where there was always high competition. Having lost her hope to study there, that same year she married Albert Shenkerman who was born in 1941. He was a foreman at the medical equipment plant. In 1974 their son Misha was born. They divorced. My daughter worked at the library of the Medical College. She was manager of a professor’s department. Her salary was small and Zoya had to earn additionally. She decided to learn a profession of medical nurse. She entered a medical school in Odessa. After finishing it she studied in an acupuncture academy in Moscow where she received a diploma. She made massages very well and earned her living doing this work. Wealthy clients paid her $5-6 for one massage at home. In 1994 her son Misha moved to Israel at the invitation of coach of the Israel handball team. Now he is a professional sportsman and plays in the team of Israel. In 1996 Zoya followed her son. They live in Nes Ziyon near Tel Aviv. She passed exams and got a massage license. Now she is learning cosmetic massage and children’s massage. I have positive attitudes toward Israel. The people of Israel built a prosperous country in a deserted area. I’ve visited in 1999 my daughter and I know what I am saying. I stayed there for two months.
In the 1980s many of my acquaintances emigrated. Their departures were like funerals. We knew that there was hardly any chance to see each other again. When my great nephew Marik Shechterman, aunt Surah’s grandson, was leaving I didn’t even go to the railway station to say good bye to him. I believed that we would be all photographed and later have problems. So much scared we were then. My wife and I never considered departure since we couldn’t imagine life anywhere, but in Odessa.
In the 1970-80s I gradually began to develop a critical attitude toward life and rules in our country. I was interested in politics and subscribed to at least 10 newspapers and magazines reading and analyzing and situation. I understood that this wasn’t a socialist system, but a dictatorship of the ruling Party clique. In 1977 my wife and I visited aunt Minna in America and I saw how much worse our life was. Since we worked for state structures or material situation was stable. We didn’t have any additional earnings, but we managed on what we had. Lidia worked as senior medical nurse in the physical therapy department. She was a very good massager and a high skilled trainer of therapeutic exercises. Every year my wife and I spent vacations hitchhiking. In 1980-83 we went on horse riding trips to the Altay mountains. We traveled to Bashkiria, Georgia, Subcarpathia, Yerevan and Petersburg. We bought tours to Czechoslovakia, Germany and Poland.
Grisha got married in 1985. His wife Irina Osipova, Russian, was born to the family of a forester with many children in the Baikal region in 1962. She finished a pedagogical school and she works as a teacher of elementary school. In 1986 their son Zhenia was born. Now he is finishing a Richelieu lyceum and is fond of computers. Unfortunately, he doesn’t read books. Grisha and his family live in a two-bedroom apartment in 56, Yevreyskaya street. Grisha is very ill. He had bronchial asthma, he is an invalid of 1st grade and he receives a pension.
Gorbachev’s 25 perestroika 26, in my opinion was a high-minded effort with wrong tools. Gorbachev was too weak and started reforms without appropriate persistency or giving a thought to peculiarities of the people. Perestroika was a progressive process, but it had to be implemented with different methods and more resolutely.
In 1992 my wife Lidia died of cancer. In 1996 management of polyclinic #15 of Suvorov’s district where I was working made me to retire, although I felt like continuing to work. I am not religious and do not observe any Jewish traditions or holidays. I think that when former Soviet citizens demonstratively observe Jewish or Christian traditions, they are not sincere. However, I respect charity efforts of Jewish organizations. In 1998 one of my acquaintances who worked as a volunteer in Gmilus Hesed advised me to ask for their assistance. I did and they offered me aid at home. A social worker helps me to do my apartment. This assistance is very important to me considering my health condition. Besides, I receive food packages once per month. They deliver it to my home. There is a cultural center in the Gmilus Hesed where I read lectures about soviet poetry.
Glossary
1 Great Patriotic War
On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o’clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.2 Collectivization in the USSR
In the late 1920s - early 1930s private farms were liquidated and collective farms established by force on a mass scale in the USSR. Many peasants were arrested during this process. As a result of the collectivization, the number of farmers and the amount of agricultural production was greatly reduced and famine struck in the Ukraine, the Northern Caucasus, the Volga and other regions in 1932-33.3 Kolkhoz
In the Soviet Union the policy of gradual and voluntary collectivization of agriculture was adopted in 1927 to encourage food production while freeing labor and capital for industrial development. In 1929, with only 4% of farms in kolkhozes, Stalin ordered the confiscation of peasants' land, tools, and animals; the kolkhoz replaced the family farm.4 Famine in Ukraine
In 1920 a deliberate famine was introduced in the Ukraine causing the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress those protesting peasants who did not want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful deliberate famine in 1930-1934 in the Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the peasants. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious peasants who did not want to accept Soviet power and join collective farms.5 Mandatory job assignment in the USSR
Graduates of higher educational institutions had to complete a mandatory 2-year job assignment issued by the institution from which they graduated. After finishing this assignment young people were allowed to get employment at their discretion in any town or organization.6 NKVD
People’s Committee of Internal Affairs; it took over from the GPU, the state security agency, in 1934.7 Jewish collective farms
Such farms were established in the Ukraine in the 1930s during the period of collectivization.8 Civil War (1918-1920)
The Civil War between the Reds (the Bolsheviks) and the Whites (the anti-Bolsheviks), which broke out in early 1918, ravaged Russia until 1920. The Whites represented all shades of anti-communist groups – Russian army units from World War I, led by anti-Bolshevik officers, by anti-Bolshevik volunteers and some Mensheviks and Social Revolutionaries. Several of their leaders favored setting up a military dictatorship, but few were outspoken tsarists. Atrocities were committed throughout the Civil War by both sides. The Civil War ended with Bolshevik military victory, thanks to the lack of cooperation among the various White commanders and to the reorganization of the Red forces after Trotsky became commissar for war. It was won, however, only at the price of immense sacrifice; by 1920 Russia was ruined and devastated. In 1920 industrial production was reduced to 14% and agriculture to 50% as compared to 1913.9 Gangs
During the Russian Civil War there were all kinds of gangs in the Ukraine. Their members came from all the classes of former Russia, but most of them were peasants. Their leaders used political slogans to dress their criminal acts. These gangs were anti-Soviet and anti-Semitic. They killed Jews and burnt their houses, they robbed their houses, raped women and killed children.10 Lenin (1870-1924)
Pseudonym of Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov, the Russian Communist leader. A profound student of Marxism, and a revolutionary in the 1890s. He became the leader of the Bolshevik faction of the Social Democratic Party, whom he led to power in the coup d’état of 25th October 1917. Lenin became head of the Soviet state and retained this post until his death.11 Birobidzhan
Formed in 1928 to give Soviet Jews a home territory and to increase settlement along the vulnerable borders of the Soviet Far East, the area was raised to the status of an autonomous region in 1934. Influenced by an effective propaganda campaign, and starvation in the east, 41,000 Soviet Jews relocated to the area between the late 1920s and early 1930s. But, by 1938 28,000 of them had fled the regions harsh conditions, There were Jewish schools and synagogues up until the 1940s, when there was a resurgence of religious repression after World War II. The Soviet government wanted the forced deportation of all Jews to Birobidzhan to be completed by the middle of the 1950s. But in 1953 Stalin died and the deportation was cancelled. Despite some remaining Yiddish influences - including a Yiddish newspaper - Jewish cultural activity in the region has declined enormously since Stalin's anti-cosmopolitanism campaigns and since the liberalization of Jewish emigration in the 1970s. Jews now make up less than 2% of the region's population.12 Kotovsky, Grigory Ivanovich (1881-1925)
Russian hero of the Civil War. He worked as an assistant to a manor manager. He was arrested several times over the years and was even sentenced to death, but this was later changed to penal servitude for life. In 1917 he joined the leftist Socialist Revolutionaries. He carried out a heroic campaign from the river Dnestr to Zhitomir in 1918 and took part in the defense of Petrograd in 1919.13 NEP
The so-called New Economic Policy of the Soviet authorities was launched by Lenin in 1921. It meant that private business was allowed on a small scale in order to save the country ruined by the Revolution of 1917 and the Russian Civil War. They allowed priority development of private capital and entrepreneurship. The NEP was gradually abandoned in the 1920s with the introduction of the planned economy.14 Sholem Aleichem (pen name of Shalom Rabinovich (1859-1916)
Yiddish author and humorist, a prolific writer of novels, stories, feuilletons, critical reviews, and poem in Yiddish, Hebrew and Russian. He also contributed regularly to Yiddish dailies and weeklies. In his writings he described the life of Jews in Russia, creating a gallery of bright characters. His creative work is an alloy of humor and lyricism, accurate psychological and details of everyday life. He founded a literary Yiddish annual called Di Yidishe Folksbibliotek (The Popular Jewish Library), with which he wanted to raise the despised Yiddish literature from its mean status and at the same time to fight authors of trash literature, who dragged Yiddish literature to the lowest popular level. The first volume was a turning point in the history of modern Yiddish literature. Sholem Aleichem died in New York in 1916. His popularity increased beyond the Yiddish-speaking public after his death. Some of his writings have been translated into most European languages and his plays and dramatic versions of his stories have been performed in many countries. The dramatic version of Tevye the Dairyman became an international hit as a musical (Fiddler on the Roof) in the 1960s.15 Komsomol
Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread of the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.16 Great Terror (1934-1938)
During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public ‘show trials’. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the Party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.17 The Kursk battle
The greatest tank battle in history of WWII occurred at Kursk. It began on July 5th, 1943 and it ended ignominiously eight days later. The Soviet army in its counteroffensive crushed 30 German divisions and liberated Oryol, Belgorod and Kharkov. During the Kursk battle, the biggest tank fight – involving up to 1200 tanks and mobile cannon units on both sides – took place in Prokhorovka on 12 July 1943, and it ended with defeat of the German tank unit.18 Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact
Non-aggression pact between Germany and the Soviet Union, which became known under the name of Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. Engaged in a border war with Japan in the Far East and fearing the German advance in the west, the Soviet government began secret negotiations for a non-aggression pact with Germany in 1939. In August 1939 it suddenly announced the conclusion of a Soviet-German agreement of friendship and non-aggression. The Pact contained a secret clause providing for the partition of Poland and for Soviet and German spheres of influence in Eastern Europe.19 Molotov, V
P. (1890-1986): Statesman and member of the Communist Party leadership. From 1939, Minister of Foreign Affairs. On June 22, 1941 he announced the German attack on the USSR on the radio. He and Eden also worked out the percentages agreement after the war, about Soviet and western spheres of influence in the new Europe.20 Doctors’ Plot
The Doctors’ Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the Party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin’s reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.21 Beriya, L
P. (1899-1953): Communist politician, one of the main organizers of the mass arrests and political persecution between the 1930s and the early 1950s. Minister of Internal Affairs, 1938-1953. In 1953 he was expelled from the Communist Party and sentenced to death by the Supreme Court of the USSR.22 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)
Soviet communist leader. After Stalin’s death in 1953, he became first secretary of the Central Committee, in effect the head of the Communist Party of the USSR. In 1956, during the 20th Party Congress, Khrushchev took an unprecedented step and denounced Stalin and his methods. He was deposed as premier and party head in October 1964. In 1966 he was dropped from the Party's Central Committee.23 Twentieth Party Congress
At the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956 Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin’s leadership.24 Solzhenitsyn, Alexander (1918-)
Russian novelist and publicist. He spent eight years in prisons and labor camps, and three more years in enforced exile. After the publication of a collection of his short stories in 1963, he was denied further official publication of his work, and so he circulated them clandestinely, in samizdat publications, and published them abroad. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1970 and was exiled from the Soviet Union in 1974 after publishing his famous book, The Gulag Archipelago, in which he describes Soviet labor camps.25 Gorbachev, Mikhail (1931)
Soviet political leader. Gorbachev joined the Communist Party in 1952 and gradually moved up in the party hierarchy. In 1970 he was elected to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, where he remained until 1990. In 1980 he joined the politburo, and in 1985 he was appointed general secretary of the party. In 1986 he embarked on a comprehensive program of political, economic, and social liberalization under the slogans of glasnost (openness) and perestroika (restructuring). The government released political prisoners, allowed increased emigration, attacked corruption, and encouraged the critical reexamination of Soviet history. The Congress of People’s Deputies, founded in 1989, voted to end the Communist Party’s control over the government and elected Gorbachev executive president. Gorbachev dissolved the Communist Party and granted the Baltic states independence. Following the establishment of the Commonwealth of Independent States in 1991, he resigned as president. Since 1992, Gorbachev has headed international organizations.26 Perestroika (Russian for restructuring)
Soviet economic and social policy of the late 1980s, associated with the name of Soviet politician Mikhail Gorbachev. The term designated the attempts to transform the stagnant, inefficient command economy of the Soviet Union into a decentralized, market-oriented economy. Industrial managers and local government and party officials were granted greater autonomy, and open elections were introduced in an attempt to democratize the Communist Party organization. By 1991, perestroika was declining and was soon eclipsed by the dissolution of the USSR.Zinaida Minevich
My family background
My uncle told me a family legend. I don’t know who my uncle heard it from or whether it was true.
In the middle of the 19th century there were 5 or 6 Minevich families: they were brothers and sisters of my great grandfather on my father’s side living in the town of Penizevichi near Malin, Kiev region. They descended from my great grandmother Pesia-Beila that married a pious and fanatically religious Jew from Mozyr, a Byelorussian town. Her husband never worked in his life. He only prayed and read religious books; he wouldn’t even make himself a cup of tea. My grandmother did some small trade and provided for the family. Her husband died at the age of 60 in 1890s and my great grandmother lived to be 113.
My grandfather on my father’s side Meyer lived in Penizevichi town, Malinskiy district, Kiev province. Almost all population of this town was poor Jewish families from old times till 1941. Most of them were fanatically religious. They were vendors and handicrafts. Some of them were renting gardens to sell fruit. They lived in peace with their neighbors – Ukrainian farmers. My grandfather was born around 1870s. He knew Hebrew and Yiddish. He studied in some religious institution, but I don’t know what it was. He had a beautiful voice and sang as a cantor on holidays at the synagogue in Malin. It took about an hour to walk to Malin from Penizevichi, a small town near Kiev. My grandfather never would travel on holiday. There were quite a few Jews living in Malin before 1917.
My grandfather had a beard and long Jewish hair locks. He never cut them, only trimmed, kept them very clean and combed often. He had two long jackets: one casual linen jacket for everyday wear and one fancy satin jacket for holidays. Grandfather only spent Saturday and Sunday at home. The rest of days he was in villages buying cattle (calves or cows), taking it to the shoihet that was slaughtering them for kosher meat. Then he sold the front part (kosher) meat to Jews at the local market and the rear part meat (non kosher) – to customers of other nationalities. In this way he earned few rubles per week that was hardly enough to buy food for the family.
The rabbi of the town, his wife and their many children lived in a small house with a thatched roof.
In the middle of 1900s my grandfather quit traveling and began to rent an orchard in summer from a local landlord. The whole family was working in this orchard. They were selling fruit from the orchard to the locals at the market in Malin. A bucket of pears or apples cost maximum 5 kopecks. Their earnings were modest but it was a safer business than traveling in villages in any weather looking for a calf to buy. My grandfather’s family was considered wealthy. They had a vegetable garden and kept a cow. On Saturday my grandmother baked halas. On holidays they ate meat or fish. In summer they made food products stocks for winter: flour, cereals, beans, peas and salted meat, potatoes, onions and garlic. They made pickles and sauerkraut. They also fed geese to sell fat at the market in Malin and freeze the meat. They also made stocks of wood, hay and straw for the cow.
The family lived in a small house with thatched roof. All houses in the village had thatched roofs, except for the priest’s house and school building. My grandfather and grandmother slept on the narrow wooden beds. They had planks instead of mattresses. The children slept on wooden divan beds covered with sacking. There was a wooden termite corroded cupboard, a big plank table and few stools in the dining room. There were many plants in the pots in the room.
My grandfather had good relationships with the Jewish and non-Jewish neighbors. People asked him to explain them a meaning of what they read in a book or a piece of advice. They also borrowed money from him, but he didn’t charge any interest. Even the Ukrainian landlord that leased his orchard to my grandfather acknowledged his authority. There was a very warm atmosphere in their house. They all supported one another and older children helped the younger ones. My grandfather never punished his children. His angry word was punishment enough for them. My grandfather was a very religious man. He observed all Jewish traditions and celebrated Sabbath and holidays. He said that one had to follow all rules as specified in the Torah. He followed the law himself and demanded that his children observed the rules, too.
There was another story told in our family. The landlord once asked his servant for my grandfather. He was having a party and was drunken already. When my grandfather came to his house he introduced him to his guests as a smart and business oriented Jew and forced him to drink a glass of vodka. My grandfather had never had any vodka before. After he drank it he almost died.
My grandmother on my father’s side Riva finished a religious school. She could read and write, but she didn’t know Russian. She spoke a mixture of Yiddish and Ukrainian. She got married when she was 16. Her husband’s last name was Stoliar, but later he changed it to Stoliarov. They lived in the town of Penizevichi, Malin district, Kiev province. Her husband was a ruthless man. My grandmother was a nice woman. She was trying her best to get adjusted, but it was impossible. She was strong enough to leave her husband even if it was against her principles as a religious woman. Her husband was to raise their son David according to religious rules.
In 1904-1905 she married Meyer Minovich, a widower. He had two daughters in his first marriage: Zina and Clara. The mothers of the girls died when they were too young and they accepted their stepmother very nicely. My grandmother had 13 children, but only my father and uncle Isaac survived. One boy died after a road accident and other children died from diseases. My grandmother was fanatically religious. She used to say “God gave them and He took them away”. She never complained. She prayed every day. My grandmother was a very kind and cheerful woman.
In 1918 my grandfather was killed by a shot through the window during one of Petlura’s1 pogroms2. He was praying at that time. He was buried withjó étvágyat! his thales and tfiln at the cemetery in Malin. The pogrom makers must have seen him through the window and shot him deliberately. The whole village came to his funeral. In few days the family moved to Malin in fear of pogroms. In 1921 they moved to Kiev. My grandmother’s son from her first marriage David Stoliarov was studying at the Medical Institute in Kiev at that time.
They just left their house in the village 1918. They didn’t sell the house, because there were no buyers. In 1931 my uncle Isaac, the older son of my grandfather, went to Penizevichi hoping to sell the house, but it had been removed by then and there was a store under construction on this spot. My uncle was staying at one of his non-Jewish acquaintance’s house. My uncle witnessed the process of the kulaks3. My uncle said that this acquaintance had a good orderly house with ground clayed floors. There were icons and embroidered towels hanging on the walls in one room. The owner of the house told my uncle that he was unwilling to join the collective farm because he had to give away all his livestock and he was afraid that nobody would look after it properly. He realized that the collective farm was a mess and his livestock would probably starve to death and so would members of his family. My uncle did convince him to join the collective farm, but it was too late. Three Soviet representatives came to his house at night, declared that a decision had been taken to move his family out of their house and allowed him one our to pack up. The couple began to pack, telling them that they didn’t have any riches, that they had been working hard to get what they had and that they had nothing against the Soviet power, but nothing helped. They packed 4 or 5 bags and went on a cart to the railway station in Malin where there were freight railcars4 waiting for people. Later my uncle found out that this family managed to survive and they lived in Gorky in Russia.
She got married 6 times. I have no information about my grandmother’s previous marriages. She got married for the last time in 1934 when her son Abraham was already married. My grandmother only married religious Jews. Her last husband was a rabbi. I don’t know anything about him. He died before the war. How she managed to get married so many times – she looked after single men or widowers. Their relationships developed into attachment and they began to live together.
David Stoliarov, my grandmother’s son from the first marriage, was born in 1902. I don’t know anything about his childhood. But when he grew up he found his mother (my grandmother) and he always supported her. In 1924 he graduated from Kiev Medical Institute and got a job assignment in Bukhara, Middle Asia. Upon completion of his job assignment he went to Moscow and got employed as a doctor there. During the war in 1941 - 1945 he worked as a military doctor in military hospital and later became director of a military hospital. He was a very nice and supportive man, quite unlike his father. His daughter Clara took after her father (my grandmother’s first husband) and grew up a hard person. She is a doctor and lives in Germany now. David Stoliarov became Director of NKVD (People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs) hospital and was promoted to the rank of colonel. He died in Moscow in 1967.
My father’s stepsister Zina Minevich was born in 1898. After 1917 she married Isaac Stoliar that was living in Penizevichi. In 1925 they left for Argentina. Her husband’s relative was residing there. I only know about her that she died in Buenos-Aires in 1968.
Clara Minevich, the daughter of my grandfather and his first wife, was born in the early 1900s. After the Great Patriotic War she lived in Tashkent with her husband that was 10 years older than she. In 1941-42 she received notification that her son perished at the front. But it turned out that he was captured by Germans. He escaped from captivity and joined a partisan unit. He was fighting in it until 1944. He finished the war in the rank of captain and with many awards. He found his parents. After the war he lived in Tashkent with his family. Clara died in 1980s. That’s all I know about them.
My father’s brother Isaac Minevich was born in 1907. He studied at the cheder and knew Hebrew well. At 12 he began to look for jobs to help his parents. He went from house to house on cold nights purchasing pig bristle from farmers after they had their Christmas pigs slaughtered. He was selling bristle to wholesale traders in Malin. He gave all money he earned to his mother.
In 1926 he went to Bukhara in Middle Asia. There were many Jews in this town. There is an ethnic group of Bukhara Jews that celebrate all Jewish traditions, but look very much like oriental people and have oriental mentality. David was a doctor in Bukhara. David helped him to get a job at the Sovtorgflot office. The office was involved in astrakhan fur trade business. He was promoted to deputy director when he was 19 years old. Isaac got infected with “Malta fever”, a terrible disease in Middle Asia. He had fever and he was so dizzy and weak that he could hardly move. At that time there was no cure from this disease, but he survived.
When he recovered Isaac returned to Kiev and got a job at the office involved in the paper trade business. He was deputy manager and then became manager. In 1938 he married a Jewish woman from a very religious family. Her name was Tsyupa. In 1929 their son Marek was born. Their son Dania was born in 1937 and their younger daughter Rina was born in 1939. Isaac was summoned to the army in the first days of the war in 1941. He was sent to the Kiev food supplies center. In the first months of the war this center was near the front, but after half of its stuff was killed or wounded at the Gotiy station, it was transferred to the Gorky station in Russia. He served there until the beginning of 1946. Isaac’s wife and their children and parents were in the evacuation in Tashkent. My mother’s younger sister and Isaac’s wife lived in Tashkent at that time. My wife’s parents kept Jewish traditions. They went to the synagogue and celebrated Sabbath.
I know little about my father Abraham Minevich. He was born in 1909. He went to cheder at 6 like all other boys of his age. He finished school in Kiev and worked in an office in Kiev. He was very kind and loved my mother, my brother and me very much. That’s what I remember from my childhood.
I don’t know anything about my great grandparents on my mother’s side. I have no information about my mother’s father either. All I know is that his name was Ziama Kolchinskiy and that he died in 1917.
My grandmother Malka Kolchinskaya, nee Belskaya, was born in 1880s. I don’t know her place of birth. After the revolution of 1917 she was working at the kindergarten. Once there was a water leakage in the basement of the kindergarten and my grandmother stood in the cold water scooping it out. She caught cold and became deaf. Communication with her was next to impossible. She didn’t tell anything about herself and we couldn’t ask her. That is why we don’t know anything about her. She was a very kind woman and loved my brother and me very much. She didn’t observe any religious traditions. She wore plain clothes.
My grandmother had a brother. His name was Motia. Motia Belskiy was born in 1987. He and his family lived in Yalta. He died in 1979. That’s all I know about him.
My grandmother and grandfather had two children: her daughter Dvoira (Vera), my mother, and son Moisey (Mikhail).
My mother’s brother Mikhail was born in 1910. He finished a secondary school in Kiev. Some time before the Great Patriotic War he married a non-Jewish woman. When the war began he happened to be in a village in Kiev region He ailed to go to the evacuation and stayed under occupation. He managed to obtain the documents were his identity was written as non-Jewish. He survived hiding from Germans. Later he went to a partisan unit. After the war he got christened and avoided any contacts with Jews. He was named Moisey at birth, but he was called a Russian name Mikhail Kolchinskiy.
After the war he worked as freight forwarder at the company where many employees were Jewish. They discussed him in Yiddish and blamed him for his conduct. He understood everything they were saying, but he never gave up that he understood. He tried to avoid any contacts with his relatives. He never came to our house. We invited him only once – to the funeral of his mother Malka in 1962. He came grumbling why we called him. This was the last time we saw him.
I remember his wife calling us once. She asked me to come immediately. I went to her, although it was quite a distance from where we lived. She told me that Mikhail had died a couple of years before. A Christian priest read the burial service for him. His wife was very ill when I saw her. She had asthma after blood transfusion. She called me to ask me to bring her medications from the pharmacy. She explained to me where the pharmacy was located and I was surprised that it was so far from where she lived. I brought her what she needed and asked her why it was necessary to go so far away when there were pharmacies near her house. She said that there were Jews working in the nearer pharmacies and that she was afraid to buy medications from them fearing that they could poison her. This happened in the middle 1970s. I was shocked that this was said by the woman that had lived her life with a Jewish husband. I gave her the medications and left saying nothing.
My mother Dvoira (Vera) Minevich, nee Kolchinskaya, was born in Genichesk, Kherson region, in 1912. She finished a Russian secondary school in 1927. I don’t know how my mother turned out to be in Kiev or how she met my father. They got married in 1934. I’ve never heard them recalling any wedding or a big party. I think they had a civil ceremony and no celebration.
Growing up
I was born in Kiev in 1935. My first childhood memory is of me sitting on the windowsill licking the window glass. The door opens to let my father in. My mother is sitting on the bed. I also remember where the door is. My father comes closer to me telling me that it is not good to lick the glass and that it is very bad, actually. After he finishes I keep licking. I remember him saying “We have quite a child, don’t we?” meaning my stubbornness and strong character.
After many years passed I asked my mother where it was. She was amazed that I remembered. She said I was less than 2 years old then. I told mother where the bed and the door were.
My brother Marek was born in 1937. My father earned well and the family was wealthy. In 1939 Western Ukraine joined the USSR and my father was offered a position of store director. We moved to Lvov. My mother was a housewife before the war. We had a housemaid as well. When we arrived in Lvov we got accommodation at a communal apartment. A Polish family was living there. I remember beautiful furniture and carpets in the apartment. They had 14 year old twins: Marek and Tolek. They were my very good friends.
During the war
I remember how the war began5 in 1941. Lvov was bombed. My mother’s distant relative Basia lived in Lvov. Basia got married at 16. Her husband Grigory Gussak was a non-Jew. In 1941 Basia turned 20 and had two children already. Her husband had a very high position. Basia’s husband was summoned to the front on the first days of the war. He managed to send Basia to Kiev by train. My mother convinced Basia to take me with them. My parents and my younger brother who was 3 years old headed to Kiev on foot. They sometimes got a lift on a cart, but they walked most of the time.
I remember that we were moving very slowly. The trip took us four weeks. We stopped on the way. During air raids we jumped off the train to hide. We reached Kiev. I remember my parents coming to the apartment where we were staying to take me with them. Basia was lying on the bed. She lifted the sheet and I saw black blemishes on her skin caused by the stress. Basia’s husband perished defending Lvov soon afterwards. Basia survived and raised her two children. She died in Kiev in 1980s. Her younger son lives in Kiev. Her older son ruined himself with drinking. I don’t know when he died.
My father, mother, my mother’s mother, my younger brother and I moved on to Russia. Ukraine was occupied at that time and going to Russia was the only direction we could take. We arrived at Ivanovka village, Sorochinskiy district, Orenburg region. We rented a room from a very nice older couple. My father was summoned to the army. The military didn’t summon him from Kiev because he had jaundice. My mother showed me the photographs of my father, but I called any man on a photo wearing a military uniform “Papa”. My father perished on the front at Balagoye station, Russia, in 1942. I have never been there, but I hope I will be able to go there one day.
In 1942 I turned 7 and I went to school in Ivanovka. It was an ordinary school and the only one existing in this village. Children went to school at 8, but I went to school myself, sat at the desk and began to attend school. My mother didn’t mind. My mother worked very hard in the evacuation. She was a cart driver. She transported firewood on her cart.
My mother fell seriously ill in winter 1942. She got lung hemorrhage in the woods and when she reached the village she was taken to hospital located in the district town. On that same day my brother and I were sent to the children’s home in this village, because our deaf grandmother couldn’t take care of us. I studied at school. My brother didn’t go to school. He was too young at first, but when he reached 8 to go to school he couldn’t, because he didn’t have winter clothes. My brother went to school at 9. I don’t remember any anti-Semitism. We spent 4 years at the children’s home and were treated nicely all this time. Our grandmother came to visit us. She was working as a cleaning woman somewhere.
My mother had tuberculosis and stayed in hospital. I remember myself crying a lot calling my mother. This is all I remember about the children’s home. After the war my father’s brother Isaac took every effort to take us to Kiev. My mother was in the tuberculosis hospital in Moscow at that time. My father’s brother David was helping her in Moscow. He was a military doctor in hospital. He watched over her until 1947 until my mother’s recovery. He sent her to a very good closed sanatorium for higher Party officials.
After the war
In 1946 my uncle Isaac came to Orenburg region to take us to Kiev. My grandmother Malka lived with her son Mikhail and his wife in Kiev. We moved in with uncle Isaac. He lived in a two-storied wooden house in the suburbs of Kiev. Isaac had three children. The owner of this house was an 80 years old man. He bought it in 1885 when he was a bread dealer. We were renting one room on the 2nd floor facing the street with a streetcar rail track and a small kitchen with a big stove that occupied most of the space. There was a small window in the kitchen. There was a veranda at the entrance to our apartment. There was a primus stove and buckets with water on the veranda. It was always cold and damp in the apartment. The stove didn’t help.
I was responsible for fetching water from our neighbor’s well. Our neighbors were very nice. I guess, they were Jews, but I can’t say for sure, because I don’t remember them that well. I carried two buckets on the shoulder-yoke. I was short and the buckets were big and heavy. Passers by often helped, feeling sorry for me.
My uncle held a high official post and provided well for his family. He was Deputy director of a big office, involved in sales of paper. His wife was a typist in a store. My brother and I went to school. I became a pioneer.
I was a very sociable girl. My uncle and his wife thought I didn’t behave myself. I grew up in the children’s home and didn’t quite fit in a wealthy family. I invited my friends and we had fun jumping from the wardrobe and played with china elephants. It was very much in fashion to put little elephants on a piece of furniture. They were sold in sets: from a bigger one to the smallest little elephant. The biggest of them was the size of a match box. They were very expensive elephants made from ivory. They were brought from India. Once my aunt was dusting and found out that the elephants were losing their trunks and tails and that those were glued together with bread. There was a terrible scandal. Jam was continuously vanishing from the house. Isaac’s wife arranged a real interrogation for us kids upon returning home from work and discovering the disappearance of jam. We all said that we didn’t take anything. I still don’t know who it was. I was sure that it wasn’t me.
I always invited my friends to the house. I shared everything I had with my friends as I used to do at the children’s home. I got along very well with my classmates. Uncle Isaac’s children were arrogant with us. They were jealous about their parents’ attitude towards us and were very angry when they were buying us something little. Once Isaac’s wife took me to a dressmaker and she made me a beautiful dress. Isaac’s daughter Rina made a scandal. Isaac’s family was much wealthier than the majority of families. There were gangs of thieves in Kiev. My uncle and his wife were very much afraid of the possibility that thieves might break into the house. I didn’t care about such fears and used to leave the key under a welcome rug writing a note for my brother on the door in huge letters “Marek, the key is under the rug”.
We lived in this family for a year and then Isaac’s wife took my brother and me back to the children’s home. I lived there until 1948. We were well fed in Isaac’s family, but in the children’s home we understood what it was like to be hungry. My brother was a sickly child. There were 5 or 6 children that needed a special diet and my brother was one of them. These children got one egg and a lump of sugar per week. Other children didn’t get any eggs. We got porridge and soup with a slice of bread. One could exchange anything for a piece of bread. There was no supporting personnel in the children’s home. We took turns to do work in the kitchen or clean the toilets.
I was chairman of the children’s council at the children’s home. The children liked me a lot. I wasn’t aggressive and tried to have friendly relationships with other children. It was my duty to appoint children to be on duty. I tried to form teams justly and to take no advantage of my position. I always chose most unattractive duties like cleaning the toilet, for example. But I didn’t like cleaning the toilets and I gave 2 slices of bread to those who agreed to do it for me.
The boys were always hungry. I remember my grandmother Malka visiting us at the children’s home. She used to bring a piece of bread with her and it was a wonderful gift. Nobody else visited us. This children’s home housed children of school age, but there was no school in it and we went to school #61 in the city. There was no anti-Semitism in my class or at school. I had several Jewish and non-Jewish friends. My friends used to visit me later, when I studied at the trade school. I had to learn a profession and left school after I finished the lower secondary school. My classmates invited me to their prom after they finished higher secondary school. We still call one another. Our tutor at the children’s home loved me very much and always tried to give me a hug. There were Tatar, Ukrainian and Russian children in the children’s home. We were all children of the war and there was no national segregation between us. When I grew up I learned to tell the people’s nationality. I came to understanding that people had a nationality and leaned about nationalities. On holidays and weekends we were allowed to visit our relatives. We always visited our uncle Isaac. They met us nicely and treated us to a meal, but never gave us anything to take with us. But I still loved them dearly. I had no bad feelings about them sending us to the children’s home. I felt all right there and so did my brother, I guess.
At 14 I went to the dressmaking trade school. Trade schools were established in 1945. Students could complete their secondary education and get professional education. I got hot meals and a stipend of 75 rubles in this school. We also got food packages for weekends. I rented a room and I had to pay 100 rubles per month. I gave my landlady my stipend and sewed for her or her relatives for the remaining 25 rubles. Some of my schoolmates were girls from the country. They shared the food they got from home with me. My mother returned to Kiev in 1949 and lived in the hairdresser’s where she worked. We didn’t get our apartment back. A big family was living there. They told the authorities that we had gone to the Babiy Yar6 to obtain permission to move into our apartment.
In 1951 we, (my mother, my grandmother Malka and I) received a room in the communal apartment on the 4th floor in Turovskaya street, Podol. At first there were 3 of us residing in this apartment: my mother, my grandmother Malka and I. After the academic year at school was over we took my brother Marek from the children’s home. He has had a dramatic life. He studied well at school. He was older than his classmates and felt very unhappy about it. After school he was called up to the army. We don’t know what happened to him there. He has always had weak health. Marek returned from the army and went to work at the plant. But he couldn’t work. He began to behave in a weird way. We had to take him to a psychiatrist. He told us that Marek was ill and sent him to the mental hospital. When he was younger and when our mother was alive we took him home from hospital. Now he stays there permanently. I visit him twice a week. He has schizophrenia. If he stops taking special medications he becomes violent. He breaks windows and attacks people with a knife.
I studied at the trade school to get a profession and in the evening school to complete my secondary education. I finished this evening school with a gold medal in 1951. In 1951 - 1952 I worked as a dressmaker in a shop in Kiev. In 1952 I tried to enter the Institute of Light Industry. This was the first time I faced anti-Semitism, although I didn’t quite understand what it was about. I didn’t have to take any exams, because I had a gold medal. They told me at the Institute that I failed to pass the competition of medallists. This was not true. All medallists were admitted without exams. I submitted my documents to the Institute of Food Industry and got the same response. There was an Institute of Silicates left where there was a shortage of students. I entered it in 1952. In 1953 this Institute became a Faculty of Kiev Polytechnic Institute. In this way I became a student of one of the most prestigious institutes in Kiev. Kiev Polytechnic Institute is still very prestigious. It gives very strong technical knowledge to its students. In 1954 we moved into another communal apartment in Artyom street in the central part of Kiev where we received two rooms. Uncle Isaac gave us money to move into this apartment.
Matus and Riva Strizhevskiy, the parents of my aunt Tsyupa (my uncle Isaac’s wife) played a very special role in my life. Before the war they were living in a small house in the outskirts of Kiev. When they returned from evacuation they found their house destroyed during the war. They received a small apartment in Chokolovka, a distant neighborhood in Kiev. My aunt’s parents were very religious. I visited them for the first time when I was ten years old after I returned to Kiev after the war. I saw my grandfather Matus put on his ritualistic clothing: little boxes on his head (tfilin) and striped cloth (thalesz). I heard him praying. I understood that they belonged to a different world. I wish I had paid more attention to such things. But at that time such was my understanding that they belonged to the outdated world and I took no interest in them. They were very patient and wise in their attitude towards non-religious people. I visited them at Pesach every year. I usually came in the evening after work.
They had many books in the language that I didn’t know. Now I understand that they were religious books in Yiddish. Many of these books were given to them by my uncle Isaac. Many of them were found in the attics of the houses where Jews had been living before the war.
I have one of the brightest memories of Seder diner at Pesach in this family in the middle 1950s. I was there and so was Isaac and his family and other relatives. Grandfather Matus sat ceremoniously at the head of the table. He said a prayer and we all drank some wine. It was a long ritual according to all rules. There was a big book on the table in front of my grandfather. He read an excerpt from it and we had to take a bite of greens or an onion or something else. Then they ceremoniously removed a beautiful cloth from the dish with matzah. Then we ate delicious dinner. I remember chicken broth with matzah and kosher chicken. Their daughter (my aunt Tsypa) bought chicken at the market and went to Podol7 where it was still possible to find a shoihet to slaughter the chicken. Matus and Riva would have rather refused from food than have something non-kosher. They kept kitchen utensils for meat and dairy products separately in their house. They had special dishes for Pesach. There was no bread in this house at Pesach. They checked and cleaned everything before Pesach.
My aunt Tsyupa’s parents, Matus and Riva Strizhevskiy didn’t like the Soviet power. They called Party officials “these bandits”. I spent every Pesach with them before grandfather Matus died in 1958. They sent me an invitation through Isaac. I didn’t go to his funeral because I was ill at that time. I know that he was buried according to the Jewish tradition, but I don’t know where. Riva died in the early 1960s. She was buried according to the Jewish tradition as well. There was no coffin. A rabbi from the synagogue in Schekavitskaya street (the only functioning synagogue even during the most difficult times) was at the funeral to say the prayer. Now I look after Riva’s grave. I failed to find the grave of grandfather Matus.
Riva and Matus had 3 children: son Itzyk and two daughters – Tsyupa and Haya. Itzyk perished at the front in 1942. He was first lieutenant. That’s all I know about him.
Tsyupa was born in 1907. She finished a secondary school. She married my father’s brother Isaac in 1929. She worked as a typist and a secretary in various offices.
Their younger daughter Haya was born in 1910. She finished a secondary school. In the late 1930s Isaac and his wife Tsyupa went to Bukhara in the Middle Asia to earn some money. Haya visited them there and met a young man. His name was Roman Rudakov. He wasn’t a Jew. He was a secretary of the Komsomol unit at an enterprise. Haya got married and stayed in Bukhara. His religious parents repudiated their daughter for marrying a man of different faith and a communist. In 1942 her mother and father and her sister Tsyupa evacuated to Tashkent. Roman got a higher position in Tashkent and he and his wife were residing there at that time. Only when they were living together Haya’s parents understood that their daughter had married a nice man and that he had done everything to help them and accepted the fact that he was not a Jew. After the war Haya and her family moved to Moscow. Roman got a promotion to Moscow. They lived a beautiful life, raised their children and died in Moscow in the late 1990s. Their children were not raised Jewish. Their nationality is written as Russian in their passports.
Uncle Isaac had a great influence on me. He was so shocked by extermination of Jews in Kiev and other locations during Holocaust that he decided to dedicate his life to saving the memory and culture of these people. This occurred to him in one of his business trips to a small town near Kiev. He came into the yard of a local farmer (he wasn’t a Jew) and froze: the old man was sitting on the bench in the yard cutting tiny pieces from the scroll of Torah to upholster the inside of a big box with them. My uncle forgot all about why he came to this man and jumped on this man yelling at him “What are you doing?” He explained to the old man about the scroll and the man gave all pieces to my uncle. My uncle gave the Torah to the synagogue in Kiev and they buried it according to the tradition because it was damaged.
At that moment Isaac understood that it was his duty to find and buy such miraculously preserved pieces from people and save them in the memory of those who perished during the Holocaust. He began to collect pieces of Jewish art. When he saw a book of prayers or a Jewish picture that was sold at the market he asked the vendors where they got those. They usually replied “There was Jewish family living in our apartment before the war. They perished and this is what was left”. In many years my uncle collected many pictures, engravings, dishes, mezuzas, etc. He often went to small Ukrainian towns on business and brought many pieces from there. He kept and restored them. Every piece had a history of its own and my uncle remembered every single story. This became the essence of his life. His apartment was full of these pieces. He was writing a book. It was entitled ‘Collection” and contained description of many pieces from his collection.
My uncle’s wife didn’t support her husband. She made scenes after he brought every new piece into their apartment and his daughters was always mad that her father was buying junk instead buying new clothes for her. My aunt understood how dangerous it was to keep such collection at the height of anti-Semitism (my uncle started his collection in 1948 at the very height of anti-Semitic campaign), when a person could be arrested even if the authorities found a little book in Yiddish at home. She was afraid for her husband and children. Besides, she was a very cleanly lady, and all these pieces were very dusty and she had to spend her time trying to clean them. My uncle was hoping that his children would support him, but none of them took any interest in them. He was alone with his hobby.
New In the middle of 1960s my uncle was summoned to the KB office several times. He understood that he might be arrested and he stopped to collect things openly. However, these calls had nothing to do with his collection. He was called to the KGB office because they had found his phone number in one of their suspects’ notebook. This suspect was charged for theft, but my uncle couldn’t even remember his name at first. However, he got frightened for his family. It was the time when collection of the Jewish cult pieces could lead to no good, because even for things of less importance people could vanish in Stalin’s camps and prisons.
Isaac was a member of the Communist Party, but he knew what the Soviet power was like and this caused him a lot of suffering. He was writing a book, but he was afraid that somebody would read this book. He was writing it avoiding direct language. He understood that if he was going to be arrested and the authorities got this book he would be charged additionally for writing what he thought. (The manuscript of this book has been preserved. The book is prepared for publication in the Institute of Judaism in Kiev). This book is about my uncle’s collection, destruction and plunder of the Jewish heritage after the war. When my uncle and his wife were alone and my uncle wanted to speak his wife would say “quiet, the walls have ears”. Stalin’s death in 1953 was a holiday for this family.
I was far from policy at that time, but Stalin’s death was a big shock for me and I even cried a little. I had a friend. She was a Jewish girl named Greta. I often visited her at home in 1950s. They had many interesting books and many interesting people were coming to them. They spoke about Stalin, about Jews and their life and about Israel. Only then I came to understanding that many things we read in newspapers or heard on the radio were lies. I turned into a dissident in my heart.
I graduated the Institute in 1957. My profession was Mechanical engineer. I got a job assignment at the brick factory in Daugeliay, Lithuania. I worked there for a year. I could not get adjusted to the climate. I was often ill and began to cough with hemoptysis. I came to Kiev with the diagnosis “tuberculosis”. I stayed in tuberculosis hospital for half a year. They didn’t confirm the diagnosis, but they discovered bronchictasia. I was severely ill and had a surgery in 1960. I had a lobe of a lung removed. After I got a little better I decided to take to yoga. My condition improved significantly and I feel no different from other people.
I lived with my mother all this time and worked at the Giprochlor design institute as a mechanical engineer. It was very difficult for a Jew to find a job in Kiev at that time. I was lucky. When I came to this institute looking for a job it was an affiliate of a big Russian institute in Dzerzhynsk near Gorky. Its management wasn’t anti-Semitic and didn’t report to the Ukrainian Communist Party district committee. Ukrainian party committees were watching the percentage of Jewish employees not to exceed 5 % very strictly. And the management of this institute was interested in qualified employees. They employed many Jews that couldn’t find a job anywhere else. I remember very well how the human resources manager in Kiev processing my employment documents on the basis of an order from Dzerzhynsk murmured wickedly “Uh, this Haimovich team” (Haimovich was a popular Jewish last name; it was used as curse).
In 1963 I married Vitaliy Polisskiy, a Jew. We met when we were students at the Institute. He had graduated from the Polytechnic Institute few years before me.
My husband was born to the religious family of David and Revekka Polisskiy. My husband’s father was professor of political sciences in Kiev Conservatoire. He had graduated from the Institute of red professors in Moscow. He perished during the Great patriotic War. That is all I know about him.
My husband’s mother Revekka Polisskaya was born in Kiev in 1905. She finished a secondary school in Kiev and graduated from Kiev Polytechnic Institute. From 1941 to 1944 she was in the evacuation in the town of Michurinsk, Kuibyshev region, with her son Vitaliy. After she returned from the evacuation she worked at the repair base in Kiev and then she got a job of an instructor at Kiev Polytechnic Institute. She conducted laboratory works in chemistry at the technological faculty. After the war they lived in a small room in the communal apartment in Turgenevskaya street until she received an apartment some time later. Vitaliy’s mother dedicated all her life to the Communist Party. She always conducted political classes and was a chairman at the election centers. On the 50th anniversary of her Party membership (she became a member in 1942, and the 50th anniversary was in 1992 – the year of “perestroika”) she said sadly “Nobody remembers that today is the 50t anniversary of my membership in the Party” and my husband replied “it’s better that they do not remember. If they did they might beat you”. It was kind of a sad joke. The Communist party was not popular at that time. She died in 1995.
Vitaliy was born in Kiev in 1933. He finished a secondary school in Kiev and then Kiev Polytechnic Institute. When we met he was working as a mechanical engineer at one of design institutes in Kiev. He was fond of photographing. He had his photographs displayed at exhibitions. When we got married and he moved into our apartment in Artyom street he brought his books, his photo accessories and photographs. We couldn’t afford a wedding party. We invited few of our friends and had a small party with them talking about books and music. My husband is a very interesting and intelligent man.
We read a lot, including underground publications of Bulgakov8 and Solzhenitsyn9 that were forbidden by the Soviet censorship. We were interested in all world news. We listened to Western radios to hear the truth about Israel, trying to understand the real situation there. We often had gatherings with friends at home. We celebrated birthdays and Soviet holidays. We were discussing the latest news and shared our impressions about the books we read. We liked New Year celebrations. On the Soviet holidays we got together with friends to go out of town or just stayed at home. My husband or I had never been members of the Communist Party. We went to parades, because it was mandatory to go there. One might have problems for missing a demonstration (a reprimand at work or even dismissal).
My father’s mother Riva stayed with us every summer. Her son Isaac had a house in the country. My grandmother was too old to go to the country and she moved in with us for the summer. My grandmother Riva was very religious. She always celebrated Sabbath. She had candles and she had special books (editor note: the interviewee is talking about a luah, a Jewish calendar) at home (she got them from her son Isaac) to read about the dates of holidays and the time of lighting candles. She never ate non-kosher meat. While Tsyupa’s parents, Riva and Matus Strizhevskiye were alive they always sent her a piece of kosher chicken for a holiday. If she didn’t have a piece of kosher meat she didn’t eat meat at all. When my grandmother was staying with us our life was like a war. Grandmother didn’t allow us to cut sausage and butter with the same knife or eat meat and dairy products together. She had separate dishes for meat and milky products. She had her own pot for her cereal with milk at our home. We had a very vague idea of all these tings and we just believed that she was behind time and that all she demanded was vestige of the past. We didn’t quite appreciate her demands. I was already married when grandmother was staying with us for the last time. She was eager to meet a woman with whom she could speak Yiddish. She couldn’t do it with Isaac or his wife. All their neighbors were Russian. She dreamed that I would take her out into a small park where she would meet a woman that could speak Yiddish. But it happened differently. She met a Jewish man. She was 97. She used to say about him “He is a very nice man. Only he is so young”. He was 87 years old. She could hardly walk.
We lived on the 3rd floor. I used to take her downstairs and then to a bench in the street. When there were few steps left to get to the bench she used to push my hand away and say “I can do it myself. I am really tired of this granddaughter of mine”. She told about these outings “They all gossip around us and we recall old songs”. Grandmother used to write songs in Yiddish when she was young. She said that all her family sang these songs. This man began to sing a song and my grandmother said “I wrote this song. Our neighborhood used to sing this song, but this man comes from a different neighborhood, but he knows the song”.
Grandmother was an interesting woman. She would say “I’m not wearing this sweater today. He might think I have nothing else to wear. I’ll have this shawl instead”. She was very careful about how she looked even at this age in this country! My grandmother hated the Soviet power. She used to say “How dare they kill people only because they are rich. Poor people are poor because they are lazy”. At the end of summer my grandmother returned to her apartment. When I visited her she asked “Did you see him? Is he still there?” about the man she had met. I didn’t see him, I just didn’t go past this spot. In half a year grandmother said all of a sudden that her time came. She stopped eating. She died on the first day of Pesach in 1970. Her son Isaac invite an acolyte from the synagogue and he said “She is a saint. Grandmother died on the 100th birthday anniversary of Lenin in 1970“ She was buried in accordance with the Jewish traditions. She had the Kaddish said and she was buried without a coffin, just wrapped in a piece of cloth. I look after her grave. I don’t plant flowers there, but they grow somehow.
My mother never spoke about her attitude towards the Soviet power. She was far from such issues of general character. She lived in her routinely world. She didn’t have any education.. She always spoke in a polite manner and her colleagues at the hairdresser’s used to say “You talk quite like a teacher”. She judged people from their manner to wear clothes or from how they looked. My mother was very unhappy looking at me. I didn’t have manicure and didn’t like hairdos. My mother used to say that “she is not a girl, she is a boy” about me. Mother died in 1983. She was very ill and I stayed with her all the time before she died.
In 1964 our son Anton was born. We were far from religion and didn’t observe any Jewish traditions. Our son wasn’t raised Jewish. He was a very sickly boy. He had bronchial asthma in his childhood. We didn’t take him to doctors. We understood that there were no medications that could help. We involved him in sport activities: played badminton and skied in winter. And we won the disease. He was a talented boy. He studied at the mathematical school and finished it very successfully. In 1981 he passed exams and entered one of the most prestigious institutes in the country: Moscow Applied Physics Institute. He graduated in 1987. He was one of the most successful students and he remained at the Institute for a post-graduate course. At 28 he became a Candidate of Physical and Mathematical Sciences. He worked in England and Switzerland. In 1994 Anton had to quit science due to poor financing. Now he works in the sphere of computer technologies. He married and very intelligent Armenian woman. They have two daughters: Rita and Karina. Rita is 11 (born in 1991) and Karina is 1 year old (born in 2001). They live in Moscow. We are very proud of our son.
In the 1970s many of our friends and acquaintances were moving to the US and Israel. We didn’t dare to go with our sickly son. Besides, our parents would not have accepted this. And we couldn’t leave them.
I have always been near Tsyupa and uncle Isaac. Their older son Marek fell ill and died in the early 1970s. Their son Dania and daughter Rina and their families moved to the US in the early 1980s. In few years Dania and his wife got in a car accident. His wife died and Dania is in a special hospital. He doesn’t recognize anyone, doesn’t remember and cannot move. In 1983 my uncle died and his wife said that everything associated with him was very dear for her meaning his collection. But this was a different time and there was no fear of an arrest. Tsyupa lives in America now with her daughter and granddaughter. She gave my uncle collection to the people that had helped her to prepare all necessary documentation for the departure. I don’t know what happened to the collection. I guess it might have been sold out.
I used to visit Tsyupa, Isaac’s wife, before she left. I loved her. She said to me before she left “There is one thing in my life I am sorry about – that is that I sent you to the children’s home”. I replied that it was all right with me. I didn’t mind it and I liked it at the children’s home.
My husband and I worked as engineers at the institute. In 1990 I retired and my husband retired in 1994. We lead a very active life. We go to theaters and concerts. We celebrate our birthdays with our Jewish and non-Jewish friends.
Many things have changed in our life. Jewish life has been restored. We are very interested in everything that has to do with the Jewish way of life. We have learned so much about Israel. We have many friends there. We keep in touch with them. We attend Jewish events and receive food packages and medication in the Hesed. We shall not move to Israel, because our son is staying here. We cannot leave them and we love our granddaughters. We often go to visit them in Moscow. I take care of my health: walk in the woods on Sunday and swim in the Dnieper in any weather. This helps me to remain in good condition and to be able to help other people.
Glossary
1 Petliura Simon(1879-1926) , Ukrainian politician. Member Ukrainian social-democratic working party; In soviet-polish war has emerged on the side of Poland; in 1920 emigrated. Kill In Paris from the revenge for Jewish pogroms on the Ukraine.
2 In 1920s there were many anti-Semitic gangs in Ukraine. They killed Jews and burnt their houses, they robbed their houses, raped women and killed children.
3 The majority of wealthy farmers that refused to join collective farms and give their grain and property to the Soviet power were declared enemies of the people and exterminated in the 1930s.
4 Freight railcars were not meant for the transportation of people. They were not heated and there were no seats in them. In those years they were used for transportation of prisoners.
5 On 22 June 1941 at 5 o’clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring a war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War.
6 Babiy Yar is the site of the first mass shootings of the Jewish population that was done in the open by the fascists on September 29-30, 1941, in Kiev. During 3 years of occupation (1941-1943) fascists were killing thousands of people at the Babiy Yar every day: communists, partisans, prisoners of war. They were people of different nationalities.
7 Podol has always been seen as the Jewish region of Kiev. Before the war 90% of the Jews of Kiev lived there.
8Bulgakov, Mikhail Born on 15 May, new style 1891 in Kiev, the eldest son of a professor at the Kiev Theological Academy. Russian writer that described tragic collisions of the Civil War of 1914-1922. Many of his works were not published while he was alive. In his works he developed the idea of the never-ending confrontation of moral and creative forces with the evil.
9 Solzhenitsyn Alexandr, Russian novelist and historian, who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature for 1970 and was exiled from the Soviet Union in 1974. In 1945 he was arrested for writing a letter in which he criticized Joseph Stalin and spent eight years in prisons and labor camps, after which he spent three more years in enforced exile. Rehabilitated in 1956. The Gulag Archipelago is Solzhenitsyn's attempt to compile a literary-historical record of the vast system of prisons and labour camps that came into being shortly after the Bolsheviks seized power in Russia (1917) and that underwent an enormous expansion during the rule of Stalin (1924-53). In 1974 Solzhenitsyn was exiled from the Soviet Union. Solzhenitsyn's Soviet citizenship was officially restored in 1990. He ended his exile and returned to Russia in 1994.
Efim Shpielberg Biography
Efim Shpielberg
Odessa
Ukraine
Interviewer: Tatiana Portnaya
Date of interview: June 2003
Efim Israilevich Shpielberg lives in a two-bedroom apartment in a five-storied house in one the best districts near Arcadia in Odessa. His apartment is well maintained. The furniture was bought in the 1970s. Efim Israilevich is a slim man of average height. He is quick in his movements and has shrewd eyes. He tells his story in a lively manner and gesticulates expressively when talking. He is a very good conversationalist and a great storyteller. He is in good shape for his age and does a lot of housework.
My maternal grandfather Chaim Tuman was born in Odessa in the 1850s. My grandmother told me that he studied in a yeshivah school and had a good conduct of Hebrew and Yiddish. Before the October Revolution [1] he moved abroad. My grandmother and their children were supposed to join him later, but it never happened due to the revolution and Civil War [2]. My mother told me about my grandfather whatever little she knew about his life. She said, he lived in England and then in Palestine. He was a rich man. He owned vineyards and made wine. I remember a family legend. When dying grandfather asked his assistants to ‘remember his orphan children that remained in the USSR’ and send them money. However, they didn’t follow his will. Then grandfather Chaim came to him in his dream and said that he would take him to a better world if he didn’t follow his will. That man told his companion about the dream he had had. His companion replied with his Jewish sense of humor: ‘Take it easy. It’s just a dream or whatever…’ A month later that man died. His companion got scared and began to send money. We had a letter from grandfather that he wrote in Hebrew. His assistant sent us this letter in the early 1920s. He notified us about grandfather’s Chaim death and this story in the letter. It’s true that before the Great Patriotic War [3] the family received foreign money through a Torgsin store [4] and could buy food in it. I don’t know exactly how it was done: all I remember is that mother somehow received some coupons in this store for the money they were receiving. I also remember that there were talks in our family that grandfather Chaim invited his younger daughters, my mother and aunt Polina, to come to him, but they didn’t go. This is all I know about him. During the Soviet period it was not safe to admit existence of relatives abroad and there was no talking about grandfather Chaim.
My maternal grandmother Tsyvia Tuman was born to a very poor family in 1856. She had no education, but she was nice and caring. She lived in Moldavanka area in Odessa. There were poor Jewish families, craftsmen, tradesmen and tricksters, hooligans and thieves living in this area. Jews spoke Yiddish and Ukrainian and Russian tenants also could explain themselves in Yiddish. My grandmother said that before the revolution the whole area of Moldavanka changed during Sabbath. One could hear Sabbath songs and recitation of prayers from houses. At Yom Kippur and Jewish holidays all Jews came to the synagogue in Mikhailovskaya Street, not far from our house. This building is still there. It houses a music school. There were one-storied houses and ground pavement in this district, but its tenants were friendly and supportive of each other. My grandmother said that when she was getting married all their neighbors were helping with the wedding arrangements. They wanted their neighbor to stand to standards and look best. There was a chuppah and tables for the wedding party installed in the yard of the house where grandmother’s family lived.
My grandmother gave birth to eight children. She had a very hard time when grandfather left Odessa. My grandmother took up any work that was at hand to support the children. She baked cookies at night and went to sell them during a day. She also made and sold plum and cherry liqueurs. She was doing well supporting her family.
One day before the revolution a young man ran into grandmother’s home and asked her to hide him. Few minutes later policemen came in. They asked my grandmother whether there was a stranger coming into her house. Grandmother said she was at home with her children and they left her alone. The stranger thanked my grandmother and promised to remember her. This man turned out to be Anshel, a renown thief in Odessa. He was chief of a gang of thieves in Komitetskaya Street in Moldavanka. There were also Sredniaya, Sadikovskaya, Kolontayevskaya, Miasoyedskaya, Hospitalnaya and Yevreiskaya Streets in Moldavanka. Shortly after this incident my grandmother came home in the evening after she had sold her cookies and discovered that all her liqueur stocks were gone. Somebody had been in her house. She burst into crying: how was she to provide for her children? Then Anshel came and asked her: ‘Bobele, vus veynt ir?’ [‘Why are you crying, Granny?’ in Yiddish]. My grandmother told him what happened. It turned out there was a wedding nearby and somebody stole my grandmother’s stocks. Anshel and grandmother went to the party where Anshel found the thief, hit him on the face and ordered to return what he had stolen. He also gave grandmother ten golden rubles: ‘This is for your children!’ He often brought her money or food for the children afterward.
When I remember my grandmother Tsyvia, she lived with her daughter Polia and her family in the same house where we lived. Their home was poor, but my grandmother kept it very clean. Grandmother Tsyvia was a very religious woman. She observed all traditions and they had kosher utensils in their apartment. She always wore a kerchief. She often went to the synagogue and took me with her.
On Sabbath grandmother lit candles and cooked a festive dinner.
My grandmother died before the Great Patriotic War in 1939. She was 83 years old. She was buried in accordance with Jewish traditions. An acolyte from the synagogue came and she was wrapped in special clothing. Some adults had their clothes torn. Then she was taken outside and men from neighboring houses came to recite a prayer. Then they carried the casket along the streets for Moldavanka residents to bid farewell to her. Then they put the casket on a catafalque and buried her in the Jewish cemetery in Slobodka [neighborhood on the outskirts of Odessa].
My mother’s older brother Isaac was born, I think, in the middle of the 1880s. I don’t know where he studied. He spoke Yiddish like the rest of the family. He was short, but he had strong fists. During a pogrom in 1905 [5] there were stories about him. His house was one of the first houses in the street and once pogrom makers came to his house where he lived with his wife Tsylia. He lifted two bandits by their collars, banged them one with another and threw outside. Then other pogrom makers told everyone that there was an extremely strong zhyd [abusive word for a Jew] in a house in this street that wouldn’t hesitate to kill. There were daring Jewish residents in Moldavanka. They were brave and could stand for themselves. There were fewer victims among them than elsewhere in Odessa during pogroms. Before the Great Patriotic War my uncle was a worker in a carton factory. During the Great Patriotic War
he evacuated to Tashkent in Middle Asia [3,200 km from Odessa, in Uzbekistan] with his wife. They had no children. Uncle Isaac died in the late 1950s at the age of 74. His wife died a year later. It happened so that I had to make all arrangements to bury uncle Isaac and aunt Tsylia in the Jewish cemetery in Slobodka where all our relatives were buried.
My mother’s older sister Doba could read and write in Russian. She spoke Yiddish at home. I don’t know whether she ever got any education. She was a worker at the carton factory. She was married, but had no children. During the Great Patriotic War her husband perished at the front and she was in evacuation in middle Asia. She died in the 1950s.
The next child after Doba was Molka. She was a very interesting woman. She was short and pretty. She also worked at the carton factory. She married a Jewish young man named Aaaron. They had a daughter named Rosa. During the Great Patriotic War Aaron perished at the front and Rosa died in evacuation in Tashkent. Uncle Molka returned to Odessa alone and exhausted. She died few years after the war.
The next child was David. During World War I he served in the tsarist army. After the revolution he went to the Red army. He took part in military action near Tsaritsyn at the beginning of the Civil War and then he returned to Odessa and joined Kotovski [6] unit with his younger brothers Yosl and Etsl. All three brothers perished during the Civil War. This is all I know about them.
My mother’s younger sister Polia was born in 1905. I think she studied in a Jewish elementary school. She was a very pretty girl. When she was young she attended a dancing club. Polia got married very young. Her husband Volodia Chanyura was a very religious man. He went to the synagogue on Saturday and on weekdays. He could read in Hebrew. I don’t know where he studied the language, but it was him who used to read letters in Hebrew that were sent from Palestine written by grandfather Chaim’s companion. During the Great Patriotic War he went to the front. He was wounded several times. After the war he returned to Odessa. Aunt Polia and their children Rimma and Ilia were in evacuation in Fergana [3,000 km from Odessa in Uzbekistan]. After the war they returned home. Aunt Polia was a devoted mother and efficient housewife. She was a great cook. I still remember her wonderful strudels with apples and nuts and gefilte fish. She bought chicken from a shochet and made chicken broth and chicken chops. They smelled all across the yard. I loved aunt Polia dearly. I don’t think she was happy in her marriage, though. Uncle Volodia was a womanizer. Once I saw him coming into a house to visit a woman. Volodia died in 1974. He was buried at the Jewish cemetery. Aunt Polia died three months later. In 1976 Rimma and Ilia and their families moved to the USA. They live in New York. They occasionally called me, but they don’t any more.
My mother Maria Shpielberg, nee Tuman, was born in Odessa in 1902. She got some primary education. She could read and write in Russian, but she only spoke Yiddish. My mother became an apprentice of a dressmaker when she was very young. She learned this profession promptly and began to make clothes herself. She worked for an owner of a shop who paid her peanuts. Still, my mother was a big help for my grandmother in supporting the family.
I have no information about my paternal grandmother. I don’t even know her name. I didn’t ask when I was young and now there is nobody left to ask. I know that she died few years after my father was born. My father was the youngest in the family which means that she may have died in 1900. Besides my father, my grandfather and grandmother had three daughters: Etah, Rosa and Chaya. They didn’t move to Odessa. They must have got married and stayed where they lived.
Perhaps, my father kept in touch with them, but I know no details. I have no information about my aunts on my father’s side, either.
My paternal grandfather Leib Shpielberg was born approximately in 1852. He came from a village to Odessa with his younger son, who was my father to be, during the October Revolution, but I don’t know any details. I remember grandfather Leib very well: he had payes and a red beard. He had a heavy fist like a hammer.
He always wore a black cap, a white shirt and a kitel. My grandfather was very religious. He always spoke Yiddish and recited prayers in Hebrew at the synagogue. I don’t know where he studied. He read Russian newspapers and the Torah in Hebrew.
He went to pray at the synagogue in the morning and in the evening. Grandfather lived near our house in Moldavanka. One year before he died he moved in with us. He died in 1937, when I was 8.
He was buried in accordance with the Jewish tradition. I remember well that the casket was taken to the synagogue where they recited prayers and then it was carried along the streets in Moldavanka. There were many people in the procession: my grandfather was well respected. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Slobodka. My father couldn’t afford to sit shivah, for he had to work hard.
My father Israel Shpielberg was born in a village near Odessa in 1898. He probably studied in cheder. He spoke Yiddish at home and knew prayers in Hebrew. Its’ hard to say whether he finished a secondary school, but he could speak, read and write in Russian and Ukrainian.
By the standards of our district he was a man with education. My father came to Odessa when he was a young man already. He studied the profession of fabric cutter and did his work very well.
My father met my mother at a party. After they met he came to my grandmother Tsyvia and said ‘If you don’t give your consent to my marrying Maria I will commit a suicide. I shall go to the sea and drown’. This is what my grandmother told me about his introductions.
My parents got married in 1928.
My mother told me that the rabbi from our synagogue was invited to the wedding and there was a chuppah installed in the yard. Grandmother Tsyvia was chief cook at the wedding and our relatives and neighbors were helping her. They made gefilte fish and a big bowl of fish soup. They didn’t drink much, but danced and sang until morning. Some of the guests that could play musical instruments played the violin, harmonica or even spoons. They were poor and common people, but they were having lots of fun! My mother made a white gown and a veil for the wedding. I saw this outfit before the great Patriotic War. My father also
wore a new suit that he made himself and a new cap.
My parents had three children. I was born in 1929. My sister Riva was born in 1932 and the youngest Tsylia was born in 1934.
We lived in a one-room apartment with a big verandah in the same house where grandmother Tsyvia and aunt Polia lived. My mother said that her apartment seemed like a palace to her, although we were rather poor. The walls were whitewashed and we slept on metal beds like all other neighbors. There were often bed bugs living in those beds and every now and then a housewife put her beds outside where they made a fire and put the beds into it to burn all bed bungs. Afterward the beds were repainted. My father was a tailor.
When he stood firmly on the ground with his both feet he managed to earn enough to buy a wardrobe in the shop. All residents of Moldavanka came to look at this ‘rich purchase’ of ours.
We lived in a single two-storied building in Sredniaya Street. There was a gallery balcony around the perimeter of the house on the first and second floors with front doors of apartments. In summer we used to sleep on the balcony. Our neighbor, shoemaker Froik often returned home drunk. He sang in Yiddish for his wife ‘My darling Surochka, I love you so’ walking to his home on the second floor of the balcony. She yelled back ‘You drunkard, you drank again’. Then she threw a pillow and a blanket onto him. Uncle Froik picked up his bebekhes [his bag and baggage in Yiddish] and went to sleep on the first floor near our Russian neighbor Vania’s apartment. Vania made ice cream. His wife’s name was Maria and my mother’s name was also Maria. They were friends. Maria was a very nice woman. When she and her husband took out newly made ice cream she used to say ‘Efim, kum hir – come here, Vania has already made ice cream’ and I always had some ice cream. Vania came out with a cart with 3 containers on it. This was such different ice cream! I shall always remember its taste. It turned out later that he gave away Jews to Romanians during the Great Patriotic War [Odessa was occupied by Romanian troops during the Great Patriotic War]. Such bastard. When our guys returned from the front to the town they wanted to kill Vania because he gave away Jews to Romanians during the occupation. He was sitting there looking at them with his only eye left, someone beat out his eye during the war. Our guys left him alone and later he disappeared somewhere.
There was a toilet and a water tap in the yard and housewives used to do their washing near this tap. Every Thursday before Sabbath we went to the public bathroom in Sredniaya Street. We fetched water for cooking from the pump in the yard. There were primus stoves to do the cooking. We had kosher utensils: there was a drawer for dairy products where we kept a big casserole for milk and few mugs. There was another box where we kept utensils for meat products. I remember very well that the household had to observe these rule. If I did something wrong I got a cuff in the nape right away. All housewives in our yard were wonderful cooks. My mother was the best at making gefilte fish. When she started cooking it all other housewives came to watch her. When she was beginning to make the filling she asked everybody to keep silent to not spoil the fish.
Isaacs’s wife Tsylia was the best cook, though. She had wooden mugs in the kitchen where she kept herbs for meat, fish and bakeries. Tsylia’s jellied meat was quite an object of note in Odessa. She made extraordinary strudels with almonds that tasted like baklava [Eastern sweets made of pastry, sugar, nuts and spice]. I never tasted anything like it even in the best restaurants.
I had a very happy childhood. My grandmother was raising me, my parents had to work hard. Grandfather Leib took me for a walk every day. I went often to the synagogue with him and watched him praying. He taught me the prayer ‘Shema, Israel’ [Listen, Israel in Hebrew.] Grandfather also prayed at home with tefillin and tallit.
My parents and I also went to the cinema. I remember mute films when there was a piano player playing during a film. However, I was mostly raised by the yard. A yard in Moldavanka is a real school of life. Parents could leave their child in our yard for a day and, doubt it or not, that would have his food and his other needs would be taken care. Our neighbors were very sympathetic. They were very responsive when somebody was in trouble. My neighbor taught me to be decent, honest and to not hurt the little ones.
We kept geese and chickens in the yard. They were guarded by Polkan, a hug dog. Nobody dared to catch a chicken or a goose. They feared him a lot. Our neighbors also kept some livestock. Life was hard and livestock made a supporting addition to make ends meet.
We bought food in the Paitorg, a store in the corner of the street and there was a bakery next door to this store. When I was sent to buy bread I could smell it right after leaving my house. One could buy anything in Paitorg: from eggs to black caviar stored in barrels. We only bought what we needed for a day since there were no fridges to keep food longer. We bought meat and chicken in a butcher’s store. I remember the butcher: a bearded Jew with overgrown hair. He followed the necessary procedure with meat and chicken, but I never knew the details.
We bought fish in Privoz [a big market in Odessa] or at a small fish market in Bazarnaya Street. There were few metal pavilions where they sold fish in a park. They delivered fish early in the morning. It was rather expensive in the morning, but in the evening the prices dropped. What they failed to sell they burned pouring kerosene over it. They didn’t have fridges to keep it. We often went fishing to the sea. We took a primus stove, some oil and a frying pan with us. Men and boys dived to catch bullheads and women fried them. Then we all ate fish.
People were very frank. If a family had a problem, all neighbors got involved in resolution of it. On Jewish holidays all neighbors got together to observe it. We kept special crockery for Pesach in a small storeroom. Before Pesach we did a general cleanup of the apartment. My mother did the laundry. We took all pieces of furniture outside to wash and clean it. The kitchen utensils to be used at Pesach were kept in hot ashes. My grandmother Tsyvia knew all details about Jewish customs and she gave direction to the family about what was required to be done. We bought special kosher wine for Pesach at the synagogue. We could also buy matzah, but my grandmother baked it herself. Before Pesach the family inspected the apartment with a candle looking for chametz. We took all bread leftovers to our non-Jewish neighbors. We invited strangers to seder. I remember only that the grandfather Leib conducted the seder. We didn’t eat bread a whole week at Pesach.
My favorite holiday was Chanukkah. I liked it that every night my father lit a candle. At Chanukkah all children got delicious doughnuts and money. I felt happy and rich on these days. At Purim people wore costumes, drank and enjoyed themselves as much as they could.
At Yom Kippur children and adults fasted. My grandmother was ill and had right not to fast at all, but she strictly followed the fasting. Men and women always went to the synagogue at Yom Kippur.
However, some families stopped observing Jewish holidays in the late 1930s. Perhaps, some were afraid of authorities, but my grandmother always watched that our family observed traditions.
My father was a tall fair-haired, healthy and very handsome man. He was a communist. I think he joined the party in the late 1920s. He was very serious about his status as a communist and was always very honest. I don’t remember my father going to the synagogue or praying at home, but he observed the Jewish holidays with the family and ate kosher food. When necessary, my father worked on Saturday.
There was famine in Ukraine [7] in 1933 and my father went to work in the port for food coupons. The whole family could have meals in a diner at the port. My father was a senior man in a crew of loaders.
There were shipments of raisins and olives delivered to the port. Loaders stole some olives or raisins putting bags with them in their bootlegs to take them home for their families. My mother asked my father to bring some for the children, but he replied: ‘I shall not do anything like this. I am a decent Jew and communist’.
Later he went to work as chief fabric cutter in the garment shop of Odessa military regiment. He worked in the shop and at home. He made wonderful uniforms for officers and very skillfully ‘straightened a chest’ in overcoat. When officers had an urge to have their orders completed they used to come to our home for fittings. It was quite an event and we all went to look at an officer and his car.
My father also cut trousers that my mother sewed together and sold. He was a very skilful tailor. Now, experts like my father, own fashion houses. In 1937 my father went to Middle Asia, to Tashkent, looking for an opportunity to earn more money. It didn’t work there and my father returned home.
When I was to go to school my father said ‘You live in Ukraine and you will go to a Ukrainian school’. I went to Ukrainian school # 62 in Mechnikov Street. On my way to school I had to pass the block in Mechnikov Street where boys from a conflicting group lied and I often had to fight with them. I learned to stand up for myself. There were Ukrainian, Russian, Jewish and Moldavian children in my school, but there was no segregation between us. I don’t know to what nationality my first teacher Maria Grigorievna belonged, but I studied 4 years in the elementary school and I liked her a lot. She was slim and nice. She often invited us for a cup of tea and little dry bagels at her home. Occasionally she took us to the Kotovskiy cinema theater in Kolodezny Lane. I received 5 marks at school. I was fond of mathematic and solved problems efficiently. My handwriting left much to be desired. But I tried as much as I could to not upset Maria Grigorievna. I didn’t attend any clubs. After school I played football with other boys. My friends and I liked going to the cinema. There was a cinema theater built near our house. Tickets were inexpensive and my friends and I often went there. I got along well with my sisters. My favorite was Tsylia, my younger sister. However, I didn’t like it when I had to go for a walk with them or watch them. My parent often told me off for them. My sister Riva had finished two years at school before the Great Patriotic War. She studied in a Russian school in Mechnikov Street. Tsylia didn’t go to school before the Great Patriotic War.
Our family didn’t suffer during the period of Stalin’s arrests [during Great Terror] [8], thank God. However, our neighbor Volodia’s relative Zeichik was arrested. Our other neighbors delivered coal and other things on their carts. One night all men in the family were arrested and nobody saw them ever again. It was a horrible time. Before the war there were no problems that had to do with people’s national identity. Secretary of our district committee of the City Ispolkom [10] was Jewish and Jews held high official positions in our district.
In 1939 my father was recruited to the army and sent to the war with Finland [9]. He returned half a year later and continued his work in the military unit fashion shop.
I remember well 22 June 1941, the first day of the war. I was playing football in the yard with other boys when I saw people running in some direction. I thought we had broken glass with a ball as usual and was thinking of hiding somewhere to spare myself of another cuff on the nape, but it turned out that people were running to listen to Molotov [11] speech on the radio. He said that Germany attacked the USSR. My mother was crying and aunt Polia was crying. My sisters also burst into tears seeing so many women around crying.
The men from our house went to a registry office to volunteer to the front. There were long lines near our district registry office. I was 12. I felt myself grown up and was thinking of volunteering to the front. My father served in a fighting battalion [12] deployed in the town to fight landing troops of the enemy. Later my father went to the front. He served near Odessa and then their unit was retreating with Primorskaya army. My father perished near Rostov in 1943.
The situation was horrific: the town was bombed and there was no water supply. The front line was close to Odessa. Misha, the son of shoemaker Froik was a marine. He came home from his combat positions several times. When another air raid began he used to run out of the house with his five-charge gun and shoot at German bombers. We, boys, sincerely believed that it was possible to shake a bomber down with a gun. His brother Izia also came home from the front line driving his small tank. He gave us hard hats and drove us across Moldavanka.
One day assistant secretary of the district Party committee came to live with us in our apartment. His last name was Tsukerman. He was a Jew. I can remember as if it was yesterday that he always carried a gun. Once he came home and said to my mother ‘Maria, Germans kill Jews. You must evacuate’. This was the last opportunity to leave the town. My mother and aunt Polia began to pack. My mother packed a backpack for each of us and made a carton note indicating our name and date of birth that we wore on the neck. We headed to the port. What a mess was there! Germans drowned the Georgia boat before our eyes.
It sank with all those on board. People around were crying and screaming. I think we boarded the Armenia boat. I have no idea how we managed to get there. It was like delirium. The wounded were taken on board first and then civilians were allowed to board it.
I can’t remember how many days it sailed. German aircraft bombed us regularly in the morning and in the evening. They rarely flew during a day and passengers came onto the upper deck to take a breath of air. The rest of time we were hiding. There, with the God’s help we arrived at Novorossiysk [700 from Odessa by sea].
When people began to get off, there was another alarm. There were still the wounded and civilians on board. A bomb hit the boat and it sank. There was terrible panic and jamming and I got lost. The crowd lead me to a freight train that brought me to Krasnodar region.
A Kazak family gave me shelter in their home at Bursak station, Novodonetsk village, Krasny Putilovets kolkhoz [13]. I stayed with them through the winter. German troops were advancing and the front line was 15 km from the village.
The Red army troops were retreating. It was my good luck to meet a Jewish man from Moldavanka that knew me. He was sanitary instructor of an artillery battalion. He talked to the commanding officer of his battery to take me with them. He knew that fascists had no mercy on Jews.
So I happened to get to the front. There were two other boys in the battery. We were responsible for looking after the horses pulling cannons. Once I was asleep in a haystack when a horse came to eat and bit me on my leg. It was a deep bite and I had to have bandages applied. When combat action began we had to remove horses from combat positions. During combat actions we carried ammunition, but artillerymen ordered us to hide with horses. They were trying to protect us.
Our troops were retreating. When we were near Tikhoretskoye village our battery was ordered to cross the bridge and shield the retreat of other troops. At that moment a massive air attack began. Germans intended to destroy the bridge to cut off the retreat of our tanks and infantry troops.
Our battery crossed the bridge. We lost six people. Then the Germans destroyed the bridge. We were retreating again. It was July 1942. The heat was oppressive. Red army troops and civilians with their cattle moved along the same road. Germans dropped flyers from planes saying ‘Give away zhydy and beat commissars!’
At times I rode a horse with the march of troops all day long. We always had horses to replace those that got tired of dragging cannons. In case of combat action or air raid soldiers came to their cannons and ordered us to hide with the horses. We came as far as Northern Caucasus. Once, when we were near the Terek River we decided to let horses drink some water. There were mountains around us and a small lake nearby. My friends Victor and Alexandr and I decided to unharness the horses and let them eat some grass and rest. We wanted to wash them and lead them into the lake that happened to be a swamp. We began to sink in the mud and so did the horses. We got frightened. I thought that if our commanding officer saw us he would shoot us for this diversion. It took us a lot of effort to get the horses out.
Retreat is the hardest road ever. Everybody wants to survive. Near Mineralnyye Vody the crowd was running in panic, but there was an iron discipline in the army.
Our commanding officer was a major. He knew how to organize people and was well respected.
Soldiers and officers were protective with us, shared their food and always let us sit close to the fire to get warm. They also shared their warm clothes with us. I stayed in this division until
1943. When I turned 14 they sent me to a military school in Makhachkala. There I bumped into another man from Moldavanka. He worked as a mechanic at the parachute plant.
He told me that my mother and sisters were in Nukha town in Azerbaijan [1,700 km from Odessa]. I took a freight train to go there immediately.
Reunion with my family is one of the happiest events in my life. My mother and sisters were crying and laughing seeing me. They had lost their hope to ever see me again.
They lived in a small summer type barrack, but winters were mild there. We stoked a stove that served as a heater. My mother made plain flat cookies. Bread was expensive and we couldn’t afford to buy any.
My sisters and I went to school. Like in Odessa I was good at mathematic and our teacher Ivan Petrovich, a Russian man, praised me a lot and cited me as an example for my classmates. My mother made and altered clothes and I helped her to turn it inside out. Those were the earnings that we had. When my mother boiled corn cereal and we could have a bowl it was good. We got stuffed inside, but it didn’t reduce hunger. We went to sleep hungry and hungry we got up.
I fell ill with malaria. There were no medications and I was in miserable condition.
When we were in evacuation the locals were friendly with us. There was no segregation. All were equal awaiting for news from the front. We didn’t think about observing traditions or kashrut. The war changed everything.
In 1944, when our troops liberated Odessa, we returned home. The town was destroyed and devastated, but our house was there intact. Our apartment was robbed, but did we think about things when every day we got news that our neighbors or friends had perished. Many of those who failed to evacuate, perished in the ghetto, they were killed or missing.
Shortly afterward I entered Odessa military railroad school. There were many Jewish boys studying there and there were Jewish teachers, too. I didn’t face any anti-Semitism in the school. I got along well with my schoolmates and we didn’t care about national identity of each other. After a year of my studies there the war was over. Victory Day is one of the brightest holidays in my life. When radio announced the capitulation of Germany people ran out into the streets, knocking on their neighbors’ doors, hugging and kissing.
There were tables set in our yard
for celebration like in our childhood. Veterans began returning home from the front. Some lost their leg, some had no arm. Uncle Volodia returned in 1946. He was lucky to have survived.
In 1946 after finishing my school I went to work as assistant locomotive operator.
In 1949 I was recruited to the army. I served in the Guard airborne division in Nizhneudinsk, Irkutsk region [4,875 km from Odessa]. The nature was beautiful there and in winter the river froze with ice to its bottom.
There was a lot of fish in the river. We had a nice canteen with tables for four. We had good meals: soup, schi (sauerkraut soup), cereals, bread and butter and tea with sugar for breakfast. The situation with food outside was difficult at that period. I was chief of an ammunition and automatic gun shop.
There were two mechanics working under my command. We were responsible for maintenance and inspection of equipment.
I was promoted to the rank of first lieutenant and was secretary of the Komsomol [14] unit in our division.
In 1952 I came home on leave. It was right in the height of the Doctor’s Plot [15]. Our friends and acquaintances were scared with the existing situation. There was a Jewish first aid hospital in Miasoedovskaya Street in Moldavanka, one of the oldest hospitals in town. The Jewish community it for Jews and other townsmen back in the 19th century. There were very high skilled doctors working in the hospital. They began to be fired, pestered and accused. I heard people saying ‘We won’t go to zhydy. We don’t want them to poison us’ many times. When this was the governmental policy, how were common people supposed to react? I also remember an incident that happened in summer in Rasumovskaya Street. There was a man walking beside him. Some man approached him and said: ‘Were did you zhydovskaya morda [a Jewish mug], buy this order? The man replied ‘I am a tank man. I went through the war. And you are telling me this?’ and he did hit him hard.
When I returned to my unit I face anti-Semitism. The son of secretary of regional Party committee was my fellow comrade. So I went to stand sentinel with my automatic gun once every 2-3 days, but he never did this duty.
He also laughed at me. Once, during a meal, he explained to me ‘You stand sentinel because you are a Jew. You must be grateful to be still alive’.
I couldn’t stand this and we began to fight. Since I was the initiator I had to stay in guardhouse for 10 days. I had a fight with another fellow comrade that asked why Jews were holding important positions in economics and medicine.
My response was throwing a kettle onto his head. I was in guardhouse again. I got along well with my commanding officer Zinoviev.
In March 1953 I was demobilized and was on my way home when Stalin died. On the day of his funeral I happened to be in Moscow. What was happening in Moscow! People sobbed and tore their hairs off their heads. They
wore black armbands. Crowds of people were moving in the direction of Red Square. I didn’t dare to move with the crowd. I went to the railway station and took a train to Odessa.
In Odessa people were also crying. My mother and sisters were crying. People didn’t understand how to go on living. We believed that Stalin lead us to the victory over fascists and thanks to him life was improving.
At 16 my sister Riva went to work at the factory that manufactured beds. She painted beds. She didn’t finish school. She was naughty and aggressive and hard to get along with. In 1956 Riva married Yasha, a Jewish guy. They just had a civil registry ceremony and began to live in out one-room apartment. It was a small room of about 18 square meters and there were five of us living in it. Some time later I rented a room from our neighbor Lisa. After Riva got married, she quit the factory and began to work as a cook in the Jewish hospital. When she was 26 her daughter Raya was born. Some time later she divorced her husband Yasha. We rarely saw each other due to her hard temper. In 1996 Riva moved to New York, to the USA, with her daughter. She wrote at first, but then she stopped writing.
My younger sister Tsylia finished the Trade college and went to work at the confectionary department in a store. She had a problem there: there was a money loss in her store. I was in the army and sent Tsylia all my savings and I wrote mother to sell whatever she could and give this money to my sister. Tsylia managed to compensate the loss. I always got along well with Tsylia. She was very soft and feminine. In 1954 Tsylia married a Jewish guy named Izia Benderski. He was a worker. They registered their marriage and lived with Izia’s mother in their home. A year later their daughter Tatiana was born. Tsylia quit the store and worked in a shop that manufactured stockings and string hats. These goods were in demand and Tsylia earned well.
Her husband Izia began to drink some time later. He ruined himself by drinking. My sister divorced him. In 1964 she married Volodia Pinchuk, a Ukrainian guy. In 1965 their daughter Diana and in 1970 their son Andrei were born. In 1995 they moved to New York, USA. Tsylia died in 2000.
I couldn’t find a job for some time after I returned from the army. I went to an employment agency several times, but they didn’t have anything for me. I decided to bring a small present to a clerk there. I got a nicely packed bottle of ‘Krasnaya Moscwa’ perfume. She took pity on me and sent me to work at the food storage facility in Kirov Street. The manager of this facility, a short Jewish man, his surname was Shtul, lead me to a corner and asked ‘Do you speak Yiddish?’ I said that I could speak and understand. He began to explain work procedures in Yiddish to me: whom to give bribes and how much. Soon I was taken to work in a store. I was manager of the store.
It was difficult to work in this store: there were continuous audits and inspections and I had to provide good meals and drinks to these auditors and inspectors. I didn’t like it.
I went to work at the factory named after Vorovski. I was a joiner and then became leader of a construction I had many friends. We got together to go for walks, to the seashore or made parties. I met Faina Melamed at one of these parties. Faina was a very pretty, thin and slim girl with dark chestnut hair and thick eyelashes. Two years later, in 1959
we got married. We had a civil ceremony and I moved in with her. I was 30 years old and I had a strong feeling of being able to support my family.
My wife Faina Melamed was born in Golovanevsk, Kirovograd region in 1929. She was a Jew. Her mother Leya Melamed was born in 1897. She was a very religious woman. Her father Efim Melamed was born in 1895. He perished at the front during the Great Patriotic War in 1943.
My wife spent her childhood in Samarkand. In 1953 she and her mother moved to Odessa. They got accommodation in a basement in 108, Ostrovidova Street.
Faina couldn’t find a job for a long time. As soon as they heard she was a Jew they refused to employ her. Her brother Boris helped her to get a job through his acquaintances. She worked at a trade base for 8 years.
After we got married we went to live in 108, Ostrovidova Street. There were two small rooms in the basement, but I was struck with how clean they were: like a surgery room. One room was divided with a curtain separating a kerogas stove, a tap with a container for water and a bucket underneath. There was no dampness in the basement. There was a coal-stoked stove heating it. We fetched water from the yard and did laundry in the yard. It was especially hard in winter. Housewives had to do their washing in ice-cold water. Here was a toilet in the yard. My wife was afraid of going there. There were rats living inside.
My mother-in-law did the housekeeping. She cooked delicious food. She observed kashrut. She managed to do everything so right as not to mix meat and dairy products. My wife and I didn’t live a traditional Jewish life, but my mother-in-law went to the synagogue to pray and lit candles on Sabbath.
In 1960 my daughter Mila was born. In 1966 my wife managed to receive a two-room apartment with all comforts in a new five-storied building in Primorski district in Odessa. There were two rooms: one of them was like a passage room: 20 square meters big and another room 16 square meters big. There was a 6-square-meter kitchen and a gas stove in it. There was a bathroom in the apartment. Mila went to a kindergarten. In
1968 she went to school # 56.
A week later I bought a piano and Mila began to study music.
I continued to be leader of a construction crew at the garment factory named after Vorovski, but it was difficult to manage without any additional earnings. In the 1970s I opened a private garment shop. It was a profitable, but dangerous business. [It was forbidden in the former USSR and Efim still doesn’t want to speak about details.] I provided well for my family. We often traveled. We went on cruises on the Black Sea several times. We visited Sochi, Yalta, Novorossiysk, Batumi and Sukhumi. They were fascinating, but expensive trips.
We were in the Baltic Republics where we visited Riga, Tallin and Yurmala. I liked Moscow and Leningrad. I went there on business, but I also went there with my family on vacation. We had a good time in Minsk. We liked the town. Faina had many friends in Samarkand.
I especially remember the trip to Uzbekistan. We stayed there 2 months. My wife sort of returned into her childhood and youth. I liked Tashkent, Samarkand and Buchara. The bazaar in Samarkand is far more plentiful than our markets. Fruit, greeneries, huge heaps of dried apricots and melons getting ripe in May. We even brought little yellow melons to Odessa.
In 1968 my mother Maria Shpielberg died. We had a vague idea of Jewish traditions and buried mother without keeping to traditions. However, there was a group of older Jews at the cemetery. They recited the Kaddish for a compensation. In
1976 my mother-in-law Leya Melamed died. She was ill for a long time and we attended to her. We also buried her in the Jewish cemetery.
In 1978 Mila finished school and entered the Faculty of Cryogen Engineering in the Refrigeration College in Odessa. She studied successfully in the College. She had many friends and there were Jewish friends among them. She met a Russian guy named Andrei Makarenko, student of the Construction College at a party. Mila fell in love with him. In 1981 Mila got pregnant and they got married. We wanted Mila to marry a good Jewish man, but it happened this way. Andrei
didn’t have a father. His mother Luba was raising him and his sister Oksana. Luba worked as a teacher in the Navy College. She received a small salary and of course, I didn’t even discuss the wedding arrangements with her. I paid for the wedding. It was beautiful. I rented a hall in a good health center. Our guests could stay inside or go outside.
After the wedding the newly weds settled down with us.
In 1982 my first grandson Igor was born. Mila finished the College in
1984 and began to work as an engineer in a design institute.
In 1986 our granddaughter Yulia was born. Mila quit her job to raise the children and Faina was helping her with the children. After my granddaughter was born I bought a car and gave it to Mila and Andrei. On
3 April 1989 they got in an accident. Mila died and Andrei survived. It’s hard for me to talk about it. It’s hard to bear this. One wouldn’t wish it to his bitterest enemy. Faina cries every day. She cannot forget it. She can never forget it. We buried Mila in the Jewish cemetery. How do we live now? To keep going we have our grandchildren living with us.
In 1995 the Jewish school Or Sameach [16] opened in Odessa. Igor and Yulia went to this school. The children began to study Jewish traditions, Ivrit, Jewish prayers and observe Jewish holidays. They go to the synagogue on Jewish holidays and take us with them. My wife Faina cooks traditional Jewish dishes then. Igor had circumcision made at school and was given the Jewish name of Egal.
When the children grew older they moved to live with their father, but they often come to see us. Igor has finished school and entered the Faculty of Economics and Law in Odessa University. Igor studies at the extramural department and works as a consultant shop assistant in a store selling household appliances. Y
ulia entered the Faculty of Philosophy in Odessa University after finishing school. We have very nice and caring grandchildren
.
We are having a hard life. We cannot manage with our small pensions, just as all pensioners after perestroika [17] do not. But Jewish life became free and open. We receive food packages from Gmilus Hesed. They deliver Jewish newspapers Or Sameach and Shamrey Sabboth from them. They invite us to Jewish festivals and various culture events.
I do exercises and go to swim in the sea in Arcadia every morning. I start swimming in April and finish in October. It helps a lot, but I am aging, nevertheless. I have been in hospital twice. I had a heart problem and pneumonia. Yuri my wife Faina’s nephew paid for my stay in hospital.
I want my grandchildren to grow up decent people and I want my wife and me to be healthy and cause no problems to anybody. I want piece and wealth to rule in the world: in Israel, America and Ukraine, so that we didn’t worry about our close ones.
I felt delighted when Israel was established in 1948. I thought: Jews got their own country at last. I know the Jewish history very well and I know that when Jews come to live to a country its economy goes up and it becomes wealthy. They’ve made a blossoming garden in the middle of a desert. May wealth and prosperity come to this land. Once I thought about emigration to Israel, but now I am too old. Besides, both my grandchildren live in Odessa.
Glossary
[1] Russian Revolution of 1917: Revolution in which the tsarist regime was overthrown in the Russian Empire and, under Lenin, was replaced by the Bolshevik rule. The two phases of the Revolution were: February Revolution, which came about due to food and fuel shortages during WWI, and during which the tsar abdicated and a provisional government took over. The second phase took place in the form of a coup led by Lenin in October/November (October Revolution) and saw the seizure of power by the Bolsheviks.
[2] Civil War (1918-1920): The Civil War between the Reds (the Bolsheviks) and the Whites (the anti-Bolsheviks), which broke out in early 1918, ravaged Russia until 1920. The Whites represented all shades of anti-communist groups – Russian army units from World War I, led by anti-Bolshevik officers, by anti-Bolshevik volunteers and some Mensheviks and Social Revolutionaries. Several of their leaders favored setting up a military dictatorship, but few were outspoken tsarists. Atrocities were committed throughout the Civil War by both sides. The Civil War ended with Bolshevik military victory, thanks to the lack of cooperation among the various White commanders and to the reorganization of the Red forces after Trotsky became commissar for war. It was won, however, only at the price of immense sacrifice; by 1920 Russia was ruined and devastated. In 1920 industrial production was reduced to 14% and agriculture to 50% as compared to 1913.
[3] Great Patriotic War: On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o’clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.
[4] Torgsin stores: Special retail stores, which were established in larger Russian cities in the 1920s with the purpose of selling goods to foreigners. Torgsins sold commodities that were in short supply for hard currency or exchanged them for gold and jewelry, accepting old coins as well. The real aim of this economic experiment that lasted for two years was to swindle out all gold and valuables from the population for the industrial development of the country.
[5] Odessa pogrom in 1905: This was the severest pogrom in the history of the city; more than 300 Jews were killed and thousands of families were injured. Among the victims were over 50 members of the Jewish self-defense movement. Flats, shops and small enterprises were looted by the pogromists. The police stood by and did not defend the Jewish population.
[6] Kotovsky, Grigory Ivanovich (1881-1925): Russian hero of the Civil War. He worked as an assistant to a manor manager. He was arrested several times over the years and was even sentenced to death, but this was later changed to penal servitude for life. In 1917 he joined the leftist Socialist Revolutionaries. He carried out a heroic campaign from the river Dnestr to Zhitomir in 1918 and took part in the defense of Petrograd in 1919.
[7] Famine in Ukraine: In 1920 a deliberate famine was introduced in the Ukraine causing the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress those protesting peasants who did not want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful deliberate famine in 1930-1934 in the Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the peasants. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious peasants who did not want to accept Soviet power and join collective farms.
[8] Great Terror (1934-1938): During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public ‘show trials’. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.
[9] Ispolkom: After the tsar’s abdication (March, 1917), power passed to a Provisional Government appointed by a temporary committee of the Duma, which proposed to share power to some extent with councils of workers and soldiers known as ‘soviets’. Following a brief and chaotic period of fairly democratic procedures, a mixed body of socialist intellectuals known as the Ispolkom secured the right to ‘represent’ the soviets. The democratic credentials of the soviets were highly imperfect to begin with: peasants - the overwhelming majority of the Russian population - had virtually no say, and soldiers were grossly over-represented. The Ispolkom’s assumption of power turned this highly imperfect democracy into an intellectuals’ oligarchy.
[10] Soviet-Finnish War (1939-40): The Soviet Union attacked Finland on 30 November 1939 to seize the Karelian Isthmus. The Red Army was halted at the so-called Mannengeim line. The League of Nations expelled the USSR from its ranks. In February-March 1940 the Red Army broke through the Mannengeim line and reached Vyborg. In March 1940 a peace treaty was signed in Moscow, by which the Karelian Isthmus, and some other areas, became part of the Soviet Union.
[11] Molotov, V. P. (1890-1986): Statesman and member of the Communist Party leadership. From 1939, Minister of Foreign Affairs. On June 22, 1941 he announced the German attack on the USSR on the radio. He and Eden also worked out the percentages agreement after the war, about Soviet and western spheres of influence in the new Europe.
[12] Fighting battalion: People’s volunteer corps during World War II; its soldiers patrolled towns, dug trenches and kept an eye on buildings during night bombing raids. Students often volunteered for these fighting battalions.
[13] Kolkhoz: In the Soviet Union the policy of gradual and voluntary collectivization of agriculture was adopted in 1927 to encourage food production while freeing labor and capital for industrial development. In 1929, with only 4% of farms in kolkhozes, Stalin ordered the confiscation of peasants' land, tools, and animals; the kolkhoz replaced the family farm.
[14] Komsomol: Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread of the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.
[15] Doctors’ Plot: The Doctors’ Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin’s reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.
[16] Or Sameach school in Odessa: Founded in 1994, this was the first private Jewish school in the city after Ukraine became independent. The language of teaching is Russian, and Hebrew and Jewish traditions are also taught. The school consists of a co-educational elementary school and a secondary school separate for boys and for girls. It has about 500 pupils every year.
[17] Perestroika (Russian for restructuring): Soviet economic and social policy of the late 1980s, associated with the name of Soviet politician Mikhail Gorbachev. The term designated the attempts to transform the stagnant, inefficient command economy of the Soviet Union into a decentralized, market-oriented economy. Industrial managers and local government and party officials were granted greater autonomy, and open elections were introduced in an attempt to democratize the Communist Party organization. By 1991, perestroika was declining and was soon eclipsed by the dissolution of the USSR.
Leonid Poberezhskiy Biography
Vladimir Slopak Biography
Vladimir Slopak
Odessa,
Ukraine
Interviewer: Tatiana Portnaya
My grandfather on my father’s side Tsaliy Slopak came from Odessa. They say that my father’s grandfather was an opera singer. I don’t know if it is true. I know that my grandparents died during the Civil War in 1918. I don’t know any details about their death. The Slopak family lived near the Opera Theater in the center of the town. I believe, my father’s family belonged to higher circles of the society that my mother’s. My parents divorced and my mother avoided any discussions on this subject. On the other hand, I was small and didn’t show big interest in the history of my family. And my mother did not want me to have any connection with any of my father’s siblings. I only know that my father’s brothers and sisters (there were 5 of them) were sent to various children’s houses and each of them had to make their way in life on their own. One of the sisters was in a children’s home in Sverdlovsk and one of the brothers in Leningrad. I don’t know their names. The only aunt that I knew was aunt Raya. She was a ticket collector at the Philharmonic in Odessa. She was a very kind and hearty woman. I met her several times in my life.
My ancestors on my mother’s side came to Odessa from Bessarabia (1). They were merchants. My great grandfather Wolf Portnoy owned a butcher’s store. He was born in Odessa but I don’t know when. He finished cheder there. Unfortunately, we have no photographs of my great grandfather left. They were in our apartment in Odessa which we evacuated during the war and when we returned we found our apartment robbed. I remember that in one of the photographs my great grandfather was wearing a black jacket and hat and had a gray beard. I don’t remember whether he had payot. My grandfather told me that he was a cheerful and hardworking man. His mother tongue was Yiddish. My grandfather told me that Wolf was also fluent in Russian and Rumanian. I was named Vladimir after him. It was usual with the Jewish families then to give the children Russian names beginning with the same letter as the Jewish name of a deceased relative. The family of my great grandfather was very religious. They observed all Jewish traditions and celebrated Jewish holidays. But I don’t really know how because I was not told much about this.
I know nothing about my great grandmother.
My maternal grandfather Idel Portnoy was born in Odessa in 1882. He studied in a cheder. He learned to read Russian and Yiddish by himself. He could speak Russian and needed to learn only the Russian alphabet. Yiddish was his mother language and he could read Yiddish texts because he learned the Hebrew alphabet in the cheder. He worked as a butcher's assistant at first and later having saved some money, he got a little butcher’s store at New Market. In the early 1930s he became a carpenter in a furniture workshop. My grandfather made a desk and a chair for me as a birthday present. He was a religious man. He went to synagogue on Saturday and the holidays. Before the war he went to the main synagogue in Yevreiskaya Street. Shortly before the war this synagogue was closed and turned into a gym. My grandfather was very angry about it. After the war he went to the synagogue in Peresyp (2), the only functioning synagogue in the town. He always wore a cap going to the synagogue. In summer, when it was too hot, he covered his head with a handkerchief, tied in knots on four sides. He read the Torah at home in the evening when he was free. He prayed at home three times a day. They followed the kashrut in his family. Before Pesach the house was thoroughly cleaned. They bought matzah in the synagogue and made Gefilte fish. The whole family was involved in cooking. I remember this process. I still believe that this was the most delicious Gefilte fish in the world. There were many dishes made from matzah in our family. They were pastries, cookies, puddings and cakes. Elder children and adults fasted at Yom Kippur. Grandfather Idel always prayed for his children and grandchildren at home. They were a religious family, but they couldn’t openly express their religious beliefs during the Soviet regime. Churches and synagogues were closed during this time and clergymen and rabbis were persecuted, arrested and many of them executed. However, the family always tried to observe Jewish traditions when possible.
My grandmother Betia (Nesia) Nuhimovna Vinogradova was born to a wealthy, religious family in Odessa in 1887. Her family was much wealthier and more highly educated than my grandfather’s family. I have no information about her life before she met my grandfather. I know that she had a sister, because my mother had cousins Heiva and Riva on my grandmother’s side. I don’t know how she met my grandfather. All I know is that they had a traditional Jewish wedding with a huppah. My grandmother was very young when she got married. My mother recalled that my grandmother wore a wig. She was a housewife and a wonderful cook and so were her daughters. Gefilte fish was always made in our family according to my grandmother’s recipe. My grandmother had babies almost every year. She died of a haemorrhage during childbirth in 1924. She was only 36 years old.
My grandparents lived in Meschanskaya Street in Moldavanka (3). It was a Jewish neighborhood and they mostly socialized with Jews. In 1924 they moved to Grecheskaya Street in the center of the town. Their new apartment was in an old two-storied building one block away from the central Deribassovskaya Street in Odessa. There were Russian, Ukrainian and Jewish tenants in their building. They had a two-room apartment on the 2nd floor with very high ceilings. I grew up in this apartment. My grandfather lived in this apartment with his daughters after the war until he died in 1957. My grandparents had 3 sons and 3 daughters.
My mother’s older brother Jacob was born in 1906. He finished cheder and continued his studies in a Russian secondary school. I don’t know how many years he studied at school. He could read and write in Yiddish. He worked as a butcher at the New Market. His wife was Russian. His father was, of course, against this marriage. He had two children. After the war we lost contact with them and I have no information about them. At the beginning of the war Jacob was in the people’s volunteer corps near Odessa. He was captured in 1941 and sent to the ghetto, where he died.
My mother was the second child in the family.
My mother’s brother Lev was born in 1912. He studied in the Soviet Jewish secondary school. He sold meat at the New Market. He was married and had a Russian wife. Her name was Vera. I remember that my aunts didn’t like them. I don’t think it was based on her nationality. They had no children. In 1941 he served in the people’s volunteer corps. He worked in Dofinovka, a village in 30 km from Odessa, making defense trenches. They didn’t have any weapons. I was a small boy, but I remember that people were returning from the frontline telling us that there was one rifle for five of them. They were told to get weapons in the battle. After Odessa was occupied by the Germans he returned home. When raids for Jews began, his wife Vera gave him in to Germans. He was sent to the ghetto where he died. After the occupation the neighbors told us the whole story.
My mother’s sister Fira (Esphir) was born in 1914. She studied for several years in a Russian secondary school. She could read and write in Russian, but she spoke Yiddish with her father. Fira was a very kind and gentle woman. She worked as an usher in Voroshylov cinema when she turned 18. After she was evacuated, Fira married Michael Shneider, a Jewish man, in Taldy-Kurgan (Kazakhstan) in 1942. My cousin Lyusia was born on 14 March 1944. Lyusia never saw her father. He died at the front in 1944. After the war Fira continued working in the cinema.
In 1918 my mother’s brother Misha was born. He was a cinema operator at the “Beau monde” cinema before the war. In 1939 he was recruited to the Red Army. He died at the front near Zhytomir in 1942. His family only found out that he had died in 1945, when the war was over.
My mother’s younger sister Sopha was born in 1920. She also studied in a Russian secondary school. During the war she was evacuated to Kutaissi in Georgia where she married Moshe Nahmanovich Shneiderman (born in 1910). On 26 May 1945 her son Ilia, my cousin, was born. Sopha divorced her husband in 1946 and lived the rest of her life with her son in Odessa. She worked as a ticket collector at the cultural center and in the 1970s she got a job at the Musical Comedy Theater where she worked until the end of her life.
In 1924 my grandmother had her last baby. She died during giving birth but the baby survived. The baby was a big, beautiful girl. My mother was 17, she was the oldest girl in the family, but she was afraid of taking responsibility for raising the child. She gave the baby to a wet nurse, but the baby died. My mother could never get rid of her feeling of guilt. She believed she was to blame for her death.
My mother Anna (Hana) Portnaya was born on 5 June 1908. She was a tall blonde with hazel eyes. She studied in a Russian secondary school for some years and then had to go to work, their life was hard. She worked in a baker’s shop at the market. It was hard work. She handled tons of bread each day. When her mother died, my mother had to take on all the housework and care for the other children. My grandfather was looking for a wife and grandmother Betia’s relatives didn’t want to support the family, although they were wealthy people. My aunt Sopha told me that when they visited grandmother’s family they didn’t get any food and were not allowed to touch anything in the apartment. They were just small children and were hungry. After they left their relatives’ apartment the family brushed the copper handles on the doors after them. Sopha saw this once with her own eyes. Such severe life conditions strengthened my mother’s character. She was a proud and brave woman, she could always stand up for herself and her younger sisters. A year after his wife died my grandfather remarried. I don’t know what happened, but in a week’s time my mother packed this woman’s belongings and sent her away. My grandfather was very upset about his daughter’s behavior and moved to his wife, but he returned to his daughters shortly afterwards.
In 1929 my mother met my father, Grigoriy Slopak. I don’t know how they met. My father was born in 1905. He was a very handsome, educated man. But he had a very hard character. Probably the hardships of his life had this impact on his character. He studied at a grammar school before 1917. He was very successful with his studies. He played the piano very well and had private music classes in his childhood. His parents died when he was 13 and he was sent to a children’s home. After the children’s home he worked at a printing house and learned the profession of a printer. My mother said that he changed jobs many times. My parents got married in 1929. They had a civil ceremony that was customary during the Soviet period. They lived together for 5 years and separated in 1934, two years after I was born. I don’t know why they divorced, because my mother didn’t discuss this subject with me. My aunts joked about it saying that my father simply escaped from our mispokhe (Editor’s note: family in Yiddish). I never met him again. We had no contact, although he was living in Odessa. I only know that he had another wife. He died at the front in 1942.
I was born on 3 September 1932. My single aunts were very happy about my appearance in this world. I got three mothers at once: Ania, Fira and Sopha. My aunts told me that my first year of life was the most difficult. There was a big famine in Ukraine (4) in 1933. My mother worked at the baker’s store and she managed to bring a small piece of bread quite often. This saved us from starving to death. I never felt hungry in my childhood, as I was the only child in the family. I was very loved and spoiled.
After their wedding my parents lived in my grandfather Idel Slopak’s apartment. Besides them, the other tenants in this apartment were my mother’s sisters Fira and Sopha and her brother Misha. It was a two-room apartment with a big kitchen and a corridor. Before the war our apartment was nicely furnished: I remember beautiful furniture: wardrobes, beds, tables, pictures on the walls and heavy curtains framing the windows. We heated with coal and wood, but it was rather expensive and it was often cold in this apartment. The toilet was in the yard. Cooking was done on a primus stove. There was a sink and tap in the kitchen that served for washing purposes. It was crowded in the apartment, but the atmosphere was warm and sincere. The whole family had meals at the big table in the kitchen. The food was plain. Only on holidays could the sisters afford Gefilte fish, chicken and goose cracklings. My mother and my aunts were very good cooks and there were often pastries in the house. They kept their kitchen utensils clean and shining. There were casseroles hanging in the kitchen. The family followed the kashrut rules and there were specific casseroles for dairy products, meat, soup and fish. There were no religious books other than the Torah and the prayer book. On holidays and Sabbath all close people including neighbors got together in our house and head a common meal. At Yom Kippur the family fasted and we went to the synagogue – all of us. At Hanukkah my grandfather gave me and my cousins Hanukkah gelt and we could invite our friends for a get-together. My “Moms” (that was how I called my aunts) liked guests. We spoke Yiddish in the family and Russian with neighbors. In the late 1930s we switched to Russian - we continued to speak Yiddish only to our grandfather .
I went to the kindergarten near our house. In 1939 I went to a Ukrainian school and to the first form of music school to learn to play the violin. I was a success with my studies and the whole family was very happy for me.
We lived in the Soviet Union and it had an impact on us. Before the war the authorities accommodated other tenants in our apartment. They divided our kitchen and a family of 5 members moved into our corridor (10 square meters). They installed a partition in the corridor to make a small room.
Stalin’s regime kept people in constant fear. In 1937 arrests began (5). One night our neighbor was taken away. Nobody saw her again. She perished. Of course, such events caused concerns and worries and then the war turned many lives upside down.
I remember 22 June 1941 (6). There was a radio on a post near our house. At noon we listened to Molotov’s speech (7). He made an announcement about the treacherous attack of Germany and that USSR was in a state of war. My mother and my aunts were crying, but we couldn't even imagine what we were to endure. I have bright memories about the first days of the war. I remember panic in Odessa and lack of water. We had to go to the port to get some water. I remember the air raids. I had no father and my mother worked a lot, so I was just by myself (the school vacation had already started). During one air raid my leg was slightly wounded. I remember how I went to Deribassovskaya to watch the houses falling during another air raid. My mother and I went from one bomb shelter to another. Once we were supposed to go to a bomb shelter in Kolodezniy Lane across the street from where we lived, but we were lucky and went to a bomb shelter at the cinema instead. A bomb happened to hit that bomb shelter killing 68 people. Our shelter was buried under debris and my mother and I had to wait for 24 hours before we were rescued. There were underground trenches in Kirov Park not far from our house where we also found shelter.
We were not planning to evacuate. We didn’t believe that the war would last. We thought that our army would be in Germany in a matter of days. Later we were hoping that the Germans would not come to Odessa for some time yet. Only when the town was encircled did my mother decide it was time to evacuate. At that time it was difficult to leave Odessa. My aunts were the first to evacuate. My grandfather Idel, my mother and I left on 6 October 1941 and 9 days later the Germans entered Odessa. We paid a lot of money to fishermen and they took us to the ship 'Georgia' on their boat. There were many wounded soldiers and officers on board the ship. Some time before our ship departed the Germans sank the Lenin ship and we were shocked and scared by the scene. After a few days we reached Novorossiysk (about 700 km from Odessa by sea). From there we went to Stalingradskaya region by train and on horse-driven carts and reached Mikhailovskaya village (about 1100 km from Odessa, not far from Stalingrad). Soon the frontline was near Stalingrad. The frosts were very severe. Our soldiers were retreating. Many of them were wounded, starved, frost-bitten. The soldiers made fires to keep warm. It was a horrible period of starvation. My mother was very worried about me. She understood that we had to move on. We managed to get on a railroad platform and left for Tashkent on a frosty day. My mother’s cousins (grandmother Betia sister’s daughters) Heiva and Riva were settled there, but they didn’t want to help us. This is why we couldn’t stay in Tashkent and went to Taldy-Kurgan, in the Alma-Ata region in Kazakhstan, where my aunt Fira lived with her husband. They were living in a very small room. So in the beginning of 1943 we went on, my grandfather Idel, my mother and I, to the October collective farm, about 40 km from Taldy Kurgan.
This collective farm grew sugar beets for sugar. My mother got me a job as shepherd and she worked on the field. I often went to help her. We were accommodated with a Kazakh family. We got a small room. My grandfather Idel was very old and spent all his time praying. We were starving, we only got 50 grams of flour per person. My mother boiled some herbs. We didn’t have any real bread for 3 years. Frankly speaking, we didn’t think about keeping the traditions at that time. We only thought about how to survive. I didn’t come across any anti-Semitism there, because we were Russians for Kazakh people. In summer 1943 corn grew ripe in the fields and life became easier. We fried corn and ate it, adding some water. In 1943 my aunt Fira came to us from Taldy-Kurgan. She was pregnant. On 14 March 1944 she gave birth to her daughter Lyusia.
I didn’t go to school until September of 1944 because we arrived in the middle of the school year in 1943. There was a lower secondary school on this collective farm. The teachers were Russian and Kazakh, and my classmates as well. The language of teaching was Russian. There was no paper to write on and I used newspapers writing between lines. On cold winter days I didn’t go to school, because I had no warm clothes. My mother wrapped me in a blanket and I read books. I read Lermontov and Pushkin while evacuated and learned many of their poems by heart. My grandfather told me the stories from the Torah. But I was not really interested in them.
In November 1944 we (grandfather Idel, my mother, aunt Fira and Lyusia and I) went back to Odessa, which had been liberated by then. We went by train. We couldn’t wait to come home. We looked forward to hearing about our relatives and our loved ones. The family of a certain Professor Popov was temporarily residing in our apartment. He came from Leningrad in April 1944. Therefore, all five of us had to settle down in a small room on the first floor of the building for some time. My mother and I had to sleep on the table, as there was no other space. My mother and I fell ill with gastric issues after we returned home. I cannot even understand how we survived. It had an impact on my memory and I even forgot the alphabet.
Some time later Professor Popov was transferred to Kiev and we could move back into our apartment. When we moved in we saw that all our belongings including furniture and pictures had been stolen. There was only a huge (about 3 meters high) cupboard and an ancient floor mirror left. Anyway, nobody gave much thought to the loss of things. So many people perished: my mother’s three brothers died. Our neighbors, a Jewish family, failed to evacuate. They were taken to the ghetto where the fascists shot all of them. Only one of their daughters survived.
In August 1945 my aunt Sopha and her three-month-old son Ilia that had been born in Kutaissi in May 1945 returned to Odessa. Our family was reunited. The only man in our family was my grandfather Idel. We were all very close and every child had three mothers: mother Ania, mother Fira and mother Sopha. Only when they went to school did my cousins begin to understand that they had one mother each.
It was a hard time (right after the war). There were no jobs available. Even if there was a temporary job there was very little money paid for it. My mother became a ticket collector in the Odessa Ukrainian Theater. She got meals at work. All support personnel and actors could get meals in the canteen. They had a bowl of soup with cereals. I had a meal at school. It was a miserable meal, but I managed to save a bun to take it to my younger cousin Lyusia. She was so tiny and starved. I studied in a Russian secondary school. Odessa was and still is a Russian- speaking city, so it is self-evident that I went to a Russian school. I first went to the 4th form at school, but I couldn’t catch up with the other children due to after effects of my disease and I returned to the 3rd form. I have very warm memories of this period. There were quite a few Jewish children in my class. We were all friends. We spoke Russian, but we often used Yiddish words. Russian and Ukrainian children could understand what we said. There was no anti-Semitism at school at that time. Perhaps it was because most of the teachers were Jews. Boris Lvovich, our maths teacher, was a very kind and considerate man. He was a very good teacher. Our teacher of Russian literature taught us to love Russian classic literature and read Russian classics. Our teacher of history was also a Jew. He was a very decent man. My favorite subject was Ukrainian. My mother worked at the Ukrainian theater and I often went to their performances. I was good at Ukrainian, as well as geography, history and literature. My spelling left much to be desired, but I tried to improve it. I read a lot and attended additional classes. I was eager to study, even though I had to do my homework by the garbage container in the yard. There was too much noise at home and there was not enough space. I spent my summer vacations at a pioneer camp for the children of cultural workers in Odessa. My mother received a voucher for me to go there for several years in a row. We had good meals there and went swimming. We played a lot and I had many friends. All of us there were fond of sports – football, hiking and ping-pong.
We were like a family with our neighbors. They were not only Jewish, it was a multi-national company. On Saturday and Sunday the gate in the yard was closed. There was a table in the yard where people brought all their food and got together to discuss all kinds of issues, recalled the deceased and made plans for the future. I didn’t come across anti-Semitism at school or in the yard. But in the streets I heard things like “zhydovskaya mug” (Editor’s note: traditional Russian derogatory name for Jews) or “where were you during the war?”, “was there a frontline in Tashkent?”.
After I finished the 7th form with honors, my mother insisted that I leave school and get a professional education. She thought that I would be able to complete my studies if I wanted to. In 1949 I entered the Electro-Technical Faculty of the Odessa College of Survey. Most of my fellow students in the group were Jews. After the war Jewish children had problems with entering higher educational institutions. Jewish children that finished school with the highest grades could only go to professional or technical schools while non-Jewish children didn’t have this nationality problem (i.e. they were not Jewish), so although they were not so successful in their studies, they could go to higher educational institutions. It was possible to enter an institute without entrance exams if one had a medal after finishing school. Even at school the requirements for Jewish children were higher than for others and as a rule, Jewish children did not receive medals.
I liked to go dancing in my leisure time. My friends and I went to the port-dance and jute factory club - both clubs for the working-youth and of a rather low level. We also went to the theater. My mother helped us to get a free pass to any theater in town. We would attend good performances 10 times. We often went to the cinema, especially to the “Voroshylov” cinema where my aunt Fira was an usher. In summer we spent our days at the seashore. I read a lot in Russian, fiction mostly. We didn’t have any religious books at home. We only had the Torah. We were taught to be atheist and we became atheists. Only my grandfather prayed for all of us. He went to the synagogue on holidays. I often accompanied him, but stayed outside. However, we celebrated Jewish holidays at home in accordance with the traditions. We also celebrated Soviet holidays: Victory Day, May 1 and New Year. I didn’t have a full understanding of the situation. It was only when I grew older that I came to understand that purpose of the communist ideology was to make us forget our Jewish identity.
When I heard about the establishment of the Jewish State of Israel I was happy about it, because I believe that the Jewish people must have a Motherland, an opportunity to unite and get to the land of their ancestors.
When I was a third-year student at my college I was recruited to the army. I was to serve in Novozybkov (800 km from Odessa). At the beginning I studied in the driving school and later served in the Air Force. During my last year in the army I became a gunner and radio operator.
During the first year of my military service (1951-1954) I didn’t face any anti-Semitism. In 1952 when the Doctors’ Plot (8) was fabricated, anti-Semites appeared in the army as well. They called me “zhyd” (Editor’s note: derogatory term for Jews), but I was a fatherless child and knew how to stand up for myself. I was often involved in fights. My cousin Ilia also faced anti-Semitism in the army. He responded to a wicked comment by hitting his offender with a stool and was put in the guardhouse for this.
I remember the day of Stalin’s death very well. He died in March 1953. I was in the army and on that day I was on guard duty. My friends brought chacha (Georgian vodka). We drank a soldier’s mug of 90-degree chacha and I went back to guard duty. I was glad that he died. There was a meeting in our military unit. People made speeches and many were sad about it.
In the army I made friends with Arkadiy Waiman, a Jew from Odessa. He became my closest friend. Arkadiy finished school with the highest grades. He wanted to enter the Polytechnic Institute, but he failed. He entered the Polytechnic Institute in Middle Asia after he demobilized from the army. We are still good friends. He lives in Odessa now.
After I demobilized (in 1954) I finished college in 1957 and got a job assignment in Bukhara in Middle Asia . When I arrived there I had to get registered at the Komsomol (9) committee as a Komsomol member. I became a Komsomol member at 14 at school. I never gave much thought to why. Everyone was supposed to be a Komsomol member and I was no different, but at 25 I understood the falseness of the party ideology. So I didn’t get registered – and I had no problems because of it.
Life for Jews was easier there, because the locals didn’t know the difference between Russians and Jews. We were Russians for them. Besides, we spoke Russian. And I was surrounded by educated, intelligent and advanced people and they never expressed any anti-Semitism or hostility although I never concealed my nationality. I worked as the manager of the State Regional Control Laboratory of Monitoring Equipment. In 1958 I entered the Electrotechnical Faculty of the Bukhara Polytechnic Institute to get a higher degree.
In 1957 my grandfather Idel died. Lyusia and Ilia (my cousins) were in a state of shock. They didn’t realize that his condition was so bad. They believed he was going to recover like any other person that had fallen ill. They were taken to our neighbors when grandfather was dying and when they returned in the morning, our grandfather was lying on the floor wrapped in white sheets. There were candles on the floor and his daughters were wearing torn black clothes. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery according to the Jewish tradition. I was in Bukhara at that time, but my mother and my aunts told me about his funeral later.
In 1958 my mother got married for the second time. My stepfather Solomon Kadyshes, a Jew, born in 1905, was a very decent and interesting man. He was born to a religious family in Kazan and studied at cheder. In the 1920s he became an actor at the Jewish theater in Kazan. The theater was closed in the 1930s and he moved to Odessa. He got a job at the shoe factory and became a high-skilled designer. He got married in Odessa and had a son and a daughter. His son Naum and his family moved to the US in 1979. He lives in Philadelphia. Solomon’s daughter Frida lived her life in Odessa. She died in 1995. During the war my stepfather was a mariner and intelligence officer. He participated in the defense and liberation of Odessa, Sevastopol and Novorossiysk. During the war he became a communist party member. After the war he returned to Odessa and reunited with his family. In 1957 his first wife died and he married my mother. He was security manager at the port. Although he was a communist and held various high posts, he went to synagogue once a year on Yom Kippur. He died in 1992. We buried him in the Jewish cemetery, according to his will.
In 1962 I returned to Odessa and got transferred to the evening department of the Odessa Polytechnic Institute. I had to find a job to make my living and support my mother. And there I understood what my nationality meant. I could not get a job for a long time. There was a vacancy as a lab assistant at the Department Physics in the Navy College. I was told to fill out my application form in the human resources department. But when I submitted my application and showed them my passport I was refused immediately. There was another incident. I was trying to get a job at the radio factory, but the departmental head, a very nice lady, said to me looking into my eyes: “If I employ another Jew I will be fired”. Managers probably didn’t have anything against employing Jews, but they had instructions from higher authorities. They had to follow these directions or they could lose their job. I spent five months visiting factories and plants and everywhere they told me that there were no vacancies for my specialty. It was only by chance that I got a job. My mother had an acquaintance. He was the manager of the municipal power supply network. My mother met him once in town and asked him to employ me as a worker. I got this job. Later I was promoted to the position of technician. Then I was slowly promoted until I became power supply network operations manager. It was a very responsible position. Only communists could hold such key positions and I was a Jew and wasn’t a party member.
My management tried to convince me to become a party member. They even tried to force me, but I didn’t give in. When I was young I realized that this state killed Jews and non-Jews alike, even though officially the party talked about peoples’ friendship and internationalism. That was why I could never become a member of this kind of party. My boss argued with me in strong language and even threatened to fire me, but then the situation calmed down somehow.
I met my future wife Emma Shkolnik in 1963. I was riding a motor scooter with my friend when I saw a pretty girl. She had long fair hair and very beautiful green eyes. I was young and talkative and it was no problem for me to get acquainted with her. We agreed to meet near the Spartak stadium, but she came to the Dynamo stadium and we didn’t meet. Some time later I saw her again at the Polytechnic Institute. I believe we were destined to meet.
Emma came from a Jewish family. Her mother Otia Geisman was born in Odessa in 1908. She studied 3 years in cheder (Editor’s note: Since 1915 so-called model cheders were set up in Russia where girls studied reading and writing and had also some religious instruction.) She was a religious woman and was fluent in Yiddish. She also had a good command of Russian and Ukrainian. Before the war she worked as a shipment forwarder at the telegraph office. After the war she was a housewife and looked after her grandchildren. She died in 1994. My wife’s father David Shkolnik was born in Odessa ib 1906. He came from a family of merchants. My father-in-law was a communications engineer. He worked for industrial enterprises in Odessa. He died in 1988 and was buried in the Jewish cemetery.
My wife was born in Odessa on 4 January 1939. After finishing school with honors she graduated from the Faculty of Long-Distance Communications at the Institute of Communications. After her graduation she worked in the design team at the Communications Department in Kiev for 3 years. She was homesick though and was looking forward to coming back to Odessa. After she returned to Odessa she got a job at the Communications Department. Later she was involved in the computerization of technical processes in the canned product industries. She is very intelligent and she always managed well at work. Her colleagues respected her and knew that she could accomplish any task. They knew they could rely on her.
We got married on 3 October 1964 in a civil wedding ceremony. My mother and aunts accepted their daughter-in-law whole-heartedly. They arranged a wedding party with many guests: friends, relatives and neighbors. My “Moms” were very enthusiastic about making all necessary arrangements. My mother and Sopha were cooking and Fira and Sasha, my mother’s husband, were responsible for shopping. They cooked day and night, because we had no fridge to keep the food and everything had to be made fresh. We moved out all furniture from the apartment and put in tables for the guests. It was a merry wedding party. There was a band playing and we danced until 4 in the morning.
After the wedding my wife and I rented an apartment. Later I bought a cooperative three-room apartment, we saved money for it, but I often visited the house where I spent my childhood. We celebrated all holidays: Jewish and Soviet holidays and birthdays with my family in this house. Since childhood I loved the Jewish holidays, as traditional folk festivals of my people, this is why we kept celebrating them although I was not religious. We were always welcome in this house. At the beginning things were difficult for me. I worked during the day and studied at night. I had very little time left for sleep.
On 10 June 1965 my older daughter Irena was born. She followed my footsteps. She finished the Electrotechnical Faculty at the College of Survey. Later she graduated from cryogenic technologies at the Refrigeration Institute. She married Anatoliy Loshmanov, a Russian. I’ve never chosen my friends, acquaintances or my wife based on their nationality, but I didn’t feel quite at ease when my daughter married a Russian boy. It is difficult for me to put that feeling into words. My wife and I wanted our daughters to marry Jews, but they didn’t. Anatoliy is a very nice, caring, hardworking and quiet man. He graduated from the Institute of Navy Engineers. He was a design engineer and he was a very good engineer. He was respected at work. Unfortunately, when perestroika began it resulted in the fall of industries. Irena and Anatoliy lost their jobs. In 1988 my grandson Dima was born. It was necessary to learn to survive. They began to sell toys and later managed to open their own store. They earned well and built a nice house. In 1996 their daughter Olga was born.
My younger daughter Sana was born on 21 August 1972. She graduated from the Faculty of Mathematics and Information Science at the Pedagogical Institute. She married a Ukrainian, Dmitriy Zakrzhevskiy. He finished navy school. In 1997 their son Volodia was born. In 1999 they moved to America. They live in New York. My son-in-law works, my daughter is a housewife and my grandson, who is Jewish according to the Halachah, goes to a Jewish school.
In 1979 my mother died of cancer. It was so sad. She worked as a ticket collector at the Ukrainian Theater and then Musical Comedy Theater after the war. She was well loved. In 1968 when she turned 60 her colleagues gave her a photo album with greetings from all the actors and employees of the Musical Comedy Theater.
3 years later in 1982 my aunt Fira died in a car accident.
In 1987 my last aunt Sopha died.
The 3 sisters, Anna, Fira and Sopha, were buried in the Jewish cemetery. It was their will to be buried near one another so they could be together for good.
My family and I never went abroad, but we traveled a lot across the country. Every year we went on tours. We toured the Caucasus, the Carpathian Mountains and the Urals. We went hiking across Chechnya. I was fond of hiking, living in tents and sitting by the fire in the evening. We’ve seen a lot and enjoyed traveling.
In the 1970s many people were moving to Israel and America. We sympathized with them and were jealous of them. Most of my friends went to Israel, America and Australia. When in the past I went for a walk in Deribasovskaya Street half of the passers-by said hello to me, but when I go out nowadays I only see strangers. I was thinking of moving to another country, but my wife said to me that our motherland was here where our parents and the graves of our ancestors were. It was impossible to think about leaving and we stayed in Odessa.
I have a sibling: he is my father’s son. His name is Mikhail Slopak. In 1970 he was deported to Israel from the USSR as a dissident. He called me to say goodbye and asked me to meet him. I had doubts about whether to go to see him or not, but I decided to go and see him off. Three days later I was called to the KGB office and they kept me for 24 hours. I was questioned there for hours. My family was worried and afraid that I might lose my job. My brother lives in Jerusalem. We talk on the phone.
My cousin Lyusia married Leonid Shyrer in 1963. In 1988 they moved to Israel. They live in Haifa. We keep in touch with them. In 2002 they came back to visit to Odessa.
My cousin Ilia graduated from the Moscow Institute of Foreign Languages. He was a teacher of Italian. Now he is a businessman and sells copying equipment. He is married and has a son. He lives in our grandfather’s apartment here in Odessa.
We lived a life full of hardships: war, evacuation and anti-Semitism. There were no Jewish newspapers published and there were no Jewish communities. Nowadays the situation is different. There are Jewish schools in Odessa, two synagogues and there are Jewish newspapers published: Or Sameach and Shomrei Shabos. There is a community for old Jews, the Gemilot Hesed. I do not think I am old, though, so I do not go there.
In 1995 my older grandson Dmitriy Loshmanov, went to the Jewish school Or Sameach. It was the decision of my daughter with full agreement from her husband. Dmitriy studies Hebrew, Jewish traditions and prayers and he explains to his Jewish grandmother and grandfather when and what prayers should be said. He also tells us about holidays. My Russian relatives are happy that he is such an intelligent boy and listen to his stories about what kind of prayers should be said over bread, water and so on. At 11 he had brit mila and at 13 bar mitzvah. I go to the synagogue with my grandson and I am very pleased that many young people attend the synagogue. My wife and I learn a lot from the young and try to follow all Jewish rules. My wife attended lectures on Jewish traditions and rules of conduct for men and women. The lecturers came from Israel. They conduct Sabbath and teach the Torah. Of course, we do not strictly follow all rules of Sabbath, but we light candles on Friday and get together with the family – my wife and elder daughters – to have a festive dinner.
I’ve worked hard my whole life. I was a breadwinner and had to support my family. I worked on electric equipment start-up. I believe, I’ve made my contribution in every enterprise in Odessa.
I am 70 now, but I continue to work. I am supervisor at the laboratory of the electrotechnical center of the power supply agency. I am the only Jew at work. My colleagues respect me. They don’t want me to retire.
I can say that I’ve managed to live my life decently. I have good children and grandchildren. I have a wife and friends: Yuli Goroshyn, Arkadiy Waiman and Edik Mekhanic. I have a job, a three-room apartment and a car. My older daughter supports me well.
I love my town – every street and place brings back memories and is associated with people I knew and with events.
Glossary
1. Bessarabia: historical area the Prut and Dnestr rivers. Now it is the territory of Moldavia and a
southern part of Odessa region.
2. Peresyp: an industrial neighborhood in the outskirts of Odessa.
3.
Moldavanka: poor Jewish neighborhood on the outskirts of Odessa.
4. Famine in Ukraine: In 1920 a forced famine was introduced in Ukraine that caused the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress the protesting peasants that did to want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful forced famine in 1930-1934 in Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the farmers. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious farmers that did not want to accept the Soviet power and join the collective farms.
5. In 1937 arrests began: In the mid-1930s Stalin launched a major campaign of political terror. The purges, arrests, and deportations to labor camps touched virtually every family. Untold numbers of party, industrial, and military leaders disappeared during the “Great Terror”. Indeed, between 1934 and 1938 two-thirds of the members of the 1934 Central Committee were sentenced and executed.
6. 22 June 1941 : On 22 June 1941 at 5 o’clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring a war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War.
7. Molotov (1890 – 1986): Statesman and member of the leadership of the Communist Party. Since 1939, Minister of Foreign Affairs. On June 22 1941 he announced on the radio the attack of the USSR by Germany.
8. Doctors’ Case: The so-called Doctors’ Case was a set of accusations deliberately forged by Stalin’s government and the KGB against Jewish doctors of the Kremlin hospital charging them with the murder of outstanding Bolsheviks. The “Case” was started in 1952, but was never finished because Stalin died in 1953.
9. Komsomol: Communist youth organization created by the Communist Party to make sure that the state would be in control of the ideological upbringing and spiritual development of the youth almost until the age of 30.
Sholom Rondin Biography
Revekka Mexina
My family background
I was born in the village of Novo-Ukrainka, Elisavetgrad province in 1913. My father Mendel Mexin was born in 1874, in the town of Tsvetnoye, Cherkasy province. My mother’s name was Hana, nee Balahovskaya, she was born in Tsvetnoye in 1884.
My grandfather on my father’s side Yankel Mexin was born in 1848 in Cherkasy province. I don’t know whether he was also born in Tsvetnoye. My grandfather died before he reached forty years of age. Even my father didn’t remember him well. I don’t know were my grandmother Tumer (Tamara) Mexina was born either. She was born in 1850. I don’t know her nee name.
There were five children in the family. The oldest was Abram, born in 1870. The second son was Lev, born in 1872. Then in 1874 my father Mendel was born. The next were two daughters: Doba, born in 1875, and the younger Eva, born in 1878. There also was the youngest brother, but I don’t remember his name.
Their family was quite wealthy. My grandfather owned a small store. It was the store where they were selling both food and clothing. My grandfather often went on trips to purchase goods and during his absence my grandmother worked at the store. And during such periods they had a housemaid coming – a local Jewish girl. When my grandfather was back at home, my grandmother managed without a housemaid. They lived in a big wooden house, as my father recalled. One half of it was where they lived. There were 4 rooms: a bedroom and two children’s rooms for girls and boys. There was also a big dining room where the family got together in the evenings. My father didn’t remember the furnishing, but he remembered a huge cupboard with carving. Besides everything else my grandmother used to keep jars with jam and candy in this cupboard – that was probably why my father remembered it so well. In the 2nd half of the house there was the store. It was open from early morning till late at night. It often happened so that there was a late customer knocking at the door when the family was about to go to bed and my grandfather went to open the store to sell goods to a night visitor. We didn’t have a kitchen garden, but there was a big orchard behind the house and a flower garden in front of the house. It was the responsibility of my grandmother to look after them and she didn’t let her housemaid or her daughters to look after it.
Their family was religious and they celebrated Jewish traditions in the house. On Saturday parents went to the synagogue. Their sons also started going there when they grew older. All of the boys studied in the cheder. The girls got their education at home. They spoke Yiddish in the family, but the children knew Russian, too.
My grandmother used to wear a wig when she was young. I knew her when she was an old woman. She lived in our family for some time. At that time she used to wear a dark shawl on her head.
They strictly followed the kashruth in the family. My grandmother used to light candles for Sabbath. She made Saturday meals on Friday. They went to bed early when it was getting dark. My grandmother never turned on the light. In winter when they had to heat the house their Ukrainian neighbor came to make a fire and put some wood in the stove. The family celebrated all Jewish holidays. That’s all my father told me about it.
In 1887 my grandfather Yankel died. My grandmother was raising her children by herself. She didn’t get married again. Her older sons helped her with the store and the girls did the cooking and housework.
In 1892 my grandmother sold the house and the store. The family moved to Novo-Ukrainka, Elisavetgrad province (Kirovograd region at present). They bought a small house there and the sons were learning forestry from the local forester.
The oldest daughter Doba married a young Jewish doctor from Kharkov in 1898. I think his last name was Birman. Doba moved to Kharkov. Her husband was working at the hospital after graduating from the Medical department of Kharkov University. His parents also lived in Kharkov. Doba was a housewife. She didn’t have children. During the war Doba was in the evacuation in Ural. Her husband volunteered to go to the front, although he didn’t have to go considering his age. He went with the hospital train. He was shell-shocked during the war. In two years after the war he lost hearing. Besides, he was suffering from splitting headaches due to this shell shock. It might have been the reason of the stroke that he died from in 1950. Doba visited us several times. She died in Kharkov in 1956.
Eva met her future husband in Kharkov when she was visiting her sister. He was a friend of Doba’s husband, a young Jewish man. His father was a big manufacturer. At first he assisted his father, but when he got married his father transferred his business to him. Eva married him in 1899. I don’t remember his name. Eva got some education at home, but she was a smart girl and wanted to continue her studies. Her husband supported her and hired teachers for her. In a year afterward Eva passed all exams for grammar school. At that time women could not study at universities in Russia. Eva’s husband took her to Czechoslovakia and then to Switzerland where she entered Department of Law and graduated from it with the diploma of a lawyer. She was the only one of all the children of my grandparents that had a higher education. Eva returned to Kharkov and her husband bought her shares in a well-known attorney company. There were no women lawyers at that time. At first her partners treated Eva like she were a bored rich idler that didn’t know what to do with her time. At first she worked as a clerk and her responsibility was document control and selection of materials for speeches that her colleagues were to make in court. Once they gave her a chance to speak at a court as attorney and she won a hopeless case. From that time they allowed her to do work as an attorney. She became a famous lawyer and worked a lot. In 1907 their daughter Elena was born. Eva quit her work to spend all her time with the baby, although they were rich and had a nanny. After a year Eva took to working again. Her husband wasn’t very happy that she left the child in her nanny’s care. As far as I understand this was the reason of conflicts that resulted in their divorce in 1916. In about a year, shortly before the revolution, she married her colleague, a lawyer. Her daughter was living with them. Eva and her husband didn’t work for quite some time after the revolution and lived a very poor life. Later, in about two or three years they got an opportunity to work at a state law company. Elena graduated from the Department of journalism in Kharkov University after finishing school. She got married and moved to Byelorussia. They lived in Minsk and Elena worked as a journalist at the radio committee. Eva’s 2nd husband died in 1940. When the war began Elena’s husband was recruited to the front. Doba was trying to convince Eva to evacuate, but she refused. She was waiting for Elena to come and evacuate together. Elena perished in the first days of the war in Byelorussia and Eva perished in October 1941 during the German occupation of Kharkov.
My father’s brothers also lived in Novo-Ukrainka. They worked for a timber dealer, like my father did. Abram was married and had five sons and a daughter. They had their house near us. Lyova was single and lived in the same building where we did. Lyova was a very intelligent man. After the revolution he finished rabfak1 and then he studied at Kharkov engineering and construction Institute. He became an engineer. Lyova made a good career. He was promoted to the position of Construction Trust manager, then he was involved in the construction of Cheliabinsk tractor plant and another plant in Podmoscovie. Later he was appointed as director of the Marti Plant in Leningrad. He was awarded few orders and a car. In 1936 he went to take a training course in Germany and stayed there for six months. After he came back he worked as director of a big Construction Trust in Kharkov.
In 1940 he was arrested2, accused of espionage for Germany and sent to a camp in Siberia where he spent 10 years. His friends and the party leadership of Kharkov region petitioned for him. Lyova was released in 1950, but he didn’t have a permission to live in Kharkov. He lived in Byelorussia and worked as a foreman at a construction site. Lev was rehabilitated after Stalin died in 1953. He died shortly afterward in 1956.
I don’t know anything about the youngest brother. I don’t even know his name. He moved to America before WWI and we had no contacts with him.
In the 1920s, pogroms began3. There were few pogroms in Novo-Ukrainka as well, but they didn’t touch our family. We had a deep cellar in our house where we were hiding during pogroms. When another gang attacked our village my parents, my father’s bother Lyova and we, children, hid in the cellar. Abram sent his wife, their 3 sons and a daughter to their acquaintances, a Russian family, and was going to join them later with their two sons. They wanted to lock the house and take their valuables with them. Their neighbor from across the street (he was director of the grammar school) offered them shelter in his house. I don’t know whether he betrayed them or they were just found, but Abram and his two sons were killed. His wife and three sons (Yan, Syoma and Lyova) that were hiding in the house of their acquaintances survived. Later my Aunt and her children moved to Kharkov. Yan became a musician and lives in the Ural. Syoma is a doctor, and Lyova, the youngest, died. Their sister got married, but I know no more details about her.
My mother’s father Yakov (Yankel) Balahovsky was born in 1860. I don’t know where he was born. My grandfather was a housekeeper for Count Bobrinsky. He lied in the village of Tsvetnoye, Cherkassy province. My mother never told me about their house. She had hard memories about it – her mother and two brothers were killed there during a pogrom. My grandfather had to travel a lot. Railway employees used to joke that ‘Balahosky had business wherever the trains went”. This was true. Although my grandfather lived at the count’s estate, his family led a traditional Jewish way of life. They strictly observed Jewish traditions, celebrated Sabbath and Jewish holidays. My grandfather wore common clothes and a hat outside, but at home he put on his kippah. He had a beautiful, well cared for beard.
My grandmother’s name was Feiga. Her nee name was Shtilman. My grandmother was born in the village of Tsvetnoye in 1865. She came from a poor family. My mother told me that she was a striking beauty when she was young. She came from a poor family. My grandfather proposed to her the moment he saw her although his surrounding was against his marrying a beggar. This happened in 1882 when my grandmother Feiga was 17 years old. Her parents gave their consent to this marriage. They had a traditional Jewish wedding with the huppah and kleizmers. The newly weds moved in the small house in the estate of count Bobrinsky. My grandfather was working for him at that time as assistant secretary. I don’t know what kind of education my grandfather received or where he studied but he was a very educated man. He knew German and French and was good at bookkeeping.
In 1884 their first daughter – my mother Hana – was born. In 1885 their son Nuhim, Naum, was born. In 1886 their 2nd son Solomon was born. In 1888 my mother’s sister Rahil was born. In 1891 Moisey, their last son, was born. Theirs was a wealthy family. Besides the housemaids that were helping my grandmother around the house they had nannies to look after the children and a governess when the children grew older. My mother told me that at Pesach my grandmother cooked all festive food by herself. When her daughters grew older they began to help her with the cooking. There was a synagogue in Tsvetnoye. There were not many Jews living there, but they had a good choral synagogue. My grandmother and grandfather went to the synagogue every day. Their children went with them when they grew up a little. When the boys reached 13 they had Barmitsva and the girls had Batmitsva. All of their children got religious education. My mother could read and write in Yiddish and Hebrew and knew prayers by heart even at her old age.
My grandfather understood how important it was to give education to the children. His children had teachers at home. At 9 the children were sent to the grammar school in Cherkassy. Tsvetnoye was relatively close to Cherkassy – in about 20 kilometers and the children went to Cherkassy by an open cart. All of their children finished 8 years of grammar school. My mother finished grammar school in 1902. After finishing grammar school the boys continued their studies at the university. The older Nuhim entered law department at Cherkassy university. Solomon and Moisey studied at the Economy department. My grandfather’s sons chose their professions to be able to work with their father further on. As for his daughters, my grandfather told them that they didn’t need to continue with their studies – they had to think about getting married.
In 1904 my parents Mendel Mexin and Hana Balahovskaya got married. They were introduced to one another – there were special matchmakers that had files of all young people of the marrying age. They had a traditional Jewish holiday with the huppah and there was a rabbi present. After their wedding my mother moved to Novo-Ukrainka. They rented half a house. My father worked for a timber dealer and my mother was a housewife. In 1903 my brother Israil was born and in 1908 my sister Ida was born. I was born in 1913 and was the youngest in the family.
After the pogrom that I mentioned when my uncle Abram and his sons were killed, my family and uncle Lyova moved to Elisavetgrad (Kirovograd) in 1915. My father and uncle Lyova got a job at the timber storage facility. My father was a timber expert and uncle Lyova was working at the sales department. My mother was a housewife. My parents were renting an apartment in Kirovograd. We had 3 rooms: a nursery, my parents’ room and uncle Lyova’s room. In some time my parents found out that there was a house on sale not far from where we lived and decided to buy it sharing the price with uncle Lyova. I remember this house well. It was a two-storied house in the center of the town in Bolotin street. There was a mezuza hanging at the entrance to the house. There were 3 rooms on each floor, a big kitchen, bathroom and a toilet. My sister and I had a nursery, my parents had a room and my brother Israil had a room, too. Uncle Lyova lived on the 2nd floor. My grandmother Tumer came to live with us from Novo Ukrainka in 1918. She lived in uncle Lyova’s apartment until she died in 1933.
Growing up
We had running water and other utilities in the house. It was heated by huge stoves. There was a built-in boiler in one of the stoves that supplied hot water into the kitchen and bathroom.
Our parents talked to us in Yiddish and Russian and only Yiddish – to uncle Lyova. Therefore, I spoke two languages fluently since my infantry. My sister and I could only speak Yiddish, but my brother learned to write in it in the cheder. My Yiddish is still fluent.
My brother went to the cheder in Novo-Ukrainka. At 10 he went to grammar school in Cherkassy. After we moved to Elisavetgrad he went to grammar school #12. My sister Ida studied at home until she passed entrance exams to the girls’ grammar school successfully. After the revolution of 1917 such grammar schools were converted into secondary schools and she continued her studies.
As far as I can remember, the revolution of 1917 didn’t have significant impact on our routinely life. My father had the same job and my mother was busy with the housework and looking after the children. I don’t remember what my parents thought about the revolution because I was only 4 years old. But according to my later memories they were not very enthusiastic about it. Perhaps, their attitude would have been different, if we had been a poor family. My parents didn’t express their opinions openly in our childhood. It was late that they discussed things with us.
After the revolution pogroms still took place. Besides various gangs, the white guard armies – like Denikin army4 took part in them. In 1918 the Ataman Grigoriev gang attacked Tsvetnoye where my mother’s family lived. On this day my grandfather and his older son Nuhim went to Elisavetgrad on business. My grandmother Feiga and her two sons Solomon and Moisey were at home. Moisey was a student and came home on vacation. All three of them were killed during the pogrom. After my grandfather and Nuhim came back home they found their corpses cut with sables. My grandfather buried his wife and sons and moved to Kirovograd. Nuhim joined him a little later. In a year or two my grandfather got married again. His wife Hasia was a very nice and kind woman. She was always so happy when we, children, were visiting them.
My mother’s sister Rahil married a teacher David Rosenfeld from Cherkassy in 1903 and moved to Cherkassy. She was a housewife. They didn’t have children for a long while. They’d lost all hope when they got a son Haim in 1921. He was called Fimochka at home. In 1928 Fimochka went to school. He was a talented boy. He loved music and played the violin. His music teachers believed he had a great future ahead of him. In 1930 Fimochka fell ill with scarlet fever and died. Rahil’s husband couldn’t bear it and died from infarction a year after. Rahil was all alone and moved to Kirovograd to join her father Balahovsky. Her father died in 1940. In October 1941 Rahil died during the bombing of Kirovograd.
Our family was a traditional Jewish family. After we moved to Elisavetgrad my parents continued attending the synagogue every week. I remember my mother reading her prayer books. My brother also went to the synagogue with our parents, and my sister and I were just waiting for them in the yard of the synagogue. I don’t know why my parents didn’t allow me to go inside. They said I was too young and might not behave myself. On holidays, especially at Yom-Kipur we went to the synagogue to meet our parents to go home together for a festive dinner after the traditional fasting. There were two synagogues in the next street: one big and choral synagogue and smaller one just in a couple of blocks from the big one. Later, in 1925, the authorities took away the choral synagogue to house the club of metallurgical workers, but the smaller synagogue remained as it was.
My father had a tfillin and thales. My brother had a Barmitsva when he reached the age of 13. The only deviation from the traditions that my mother and father afforded themselves was the way they dressed. They were wearing ordinary clothing. My mother was very pretty when she was young and she loved light fancy dresses. She didn’t wear a wig or a shawl. She had long fair hair and she was making intricate hairdos. My mother wore a shawl only to go to the synagogue.
Our family was a wealthy one. Even though my mother didn’t work we had a housemaid to cook, go shopping and clean the apartment. My mother spent a lot of time with us, children. She read children’s books and the Bible to us in Yiddish. She also studied French. However, at Pesach Mother always cooked our meals. We celebrated all holidays at home. My mother kept special dishes for Pesach in a basket on the attic. If we were to have many guests, my mother koshered dishes additionally. My mother cooked stuffed fish, chicken broth, chicken neck stuffed with liver, made strudel and sponge cakes from the matsa flour. We always bought two or three bags of matsa at Pesach. We didn’t have any bread at home on these days. I remember looking for breadcrumbs on the eve of Pesach. Late I got to know that it was a ritual before Pesach. Mama was an older sister in her family and her brother Nuhim and his family used to visit us before Pesach. Uncle Lyova also always joined us. Uncle Lyova was the oldest of the men and he read the prayer.
The memory of Pesach is the brightest memory that I have about holidays. I don’t think I remember any other holidays. I remember my parents and uncle Lyova fasting at Yom-Kipur. My mother said that fasting wasn’t necessary for us, children. I remember the bronze Hanukkiah and my mother lighting one candle every day. I also remember the gelt that children received at Hanukkah.
In 1921 I went to the Russian school. It was a very good school. Our school was a grammar school before the revolution. We loved our teacher Serey Alexeevich. He was our teacher until we went to the 5th form. Since then we had a different teacher in every subject. Our teacher of mathematics was the daughter of director of the grammar school. She was a good teacher and I took to liking mathematics. I have always been very fond of it since then. There were quite a few Jewish children in our class. My best friend was Hana Elkenbard, a Jew. There were also Jewish teachers. Nationality wasn’t a matter of significance at that time and there was no anti-Semitism.
I became a pioneer at school. There was an active anti-religious propaganda at that time. We were taught that there was no God and those that believed in it were behind their time. Religion was called vestige of the past and the pioneers were called to fight against it. I was suffering so that my parents believed in God being such intelligent people and took every chance to convince them that there was no God. I must admit that all my anti-religious discussions had no results.
In 1920 my brother Israil finished school. At that time it was a problem for children of the higher class parents to enter a university, when the children of proletariat had all privileges. We came from a wealthy family for that time. My grandfather owned a store once and my father worked at his own timber storage facility. This was sufficient to refer us to the class of wealthy people. Proletariat families were those that starved and were poor and had nothing of their own. This new power and new society declared that it was going to give all privileges to the working and poor people. My brother went to work at the plant “Red Star” in Kirovograd. He was a molder apprentice at first and then became a molder himself. In 1922 my brother entered the Department of Industrial Electrical equipment at the Polytechnic University in Kharkov.
In 1926 my sister Ida also moved to Kharkov after finishing school. She entered the accounting college and became an accountant. She met a Jew Abram Sheinin and married him. They didn’t have a wedding party, as it was considered a vestige of the past at that time. They just had a civil ceremony. Soon after their wedding they moved to the miners’ town of Gorlovka. She got a job as an accountant and he was a power-engineering specialist at the power plant.
When there were 3 of us left my parents rented a smaller two-room apartment and gave our apartment on lease. At that time my father got ill with stenocardia and it became difficult for him to go to work. We needed money and he was the only breadwinner in the family. The rent money that we received enabled us to make ends meet. I had to help my mother about the house, because she spent a lot of time taking care of my father when he was ill. House chores and homework took all my time.
In 1929 I finished school. I remember my prom party at school. There was a big and very beautiful garden near the school with fruit trees and flowers. Each girl got a rose from this garden at the prom and we pinned these roses to our gowns.
After finishing school I went to work at the “Pomosch” (”Help”) association. This association provided help to the starving people. I was responsible for gluing bags. I was a foreman of a crew of teenagers.
In 1928 my brother graduated from the university and got a job assignment in Stalino, Donbass. He lived in the hostel at first and then received an apartment in a cottage. We moved to Donbass to join my brother there. It was a small house with two apartments. There was a kitchen garden near the house. My brother was the only one of the four of us (my brother, my mother, my father and I) that had a job. In 1930 I went to the school at the factory and got the profession of lab assistant/electrician. I also became a member of Komsomol5. After finishing this school I got a job assignment at a big machine-building plant in Lugansk. I worked as a lab assistant at the power plant on this enterprise. I worked for over a year and then decided to continue my studies. I found out that there was an Electric Engineering Institute in Shterovka, Donbass and decided to go there. That very same year this Institute was reformed into an electromechanical college. I entered this college in 1934 and finished it in 1938. I lived in the hostel sharing a room with six other girls. I was the only Jew among them. There were other Jews in this college: students and lecturers. We had no conflicts associated with the nationality. We had fun together and we had common problems. We celebrated the Soviet holidays together. My attitude towards religion that had formed at the time when I was a pioneer didn’t change. I didn’t conceal the fact that I was a Jew, but the Jewish traditions and religion were in the past for me. They began to close churches and synagogues by that time6. The Jewish schools were closed. I didn’t have any doubts that it was a correct step. I thought, like many others that this was the right thing to do.
1932-33 was the period of famine in Ukraine7. Fortunately, we didn’t feel it. Donbass had good supplies of food, being the miners’ region. We could receive all our food per cards. Besides, we had a kitchen garden near our house in Stalino. We were mainly growing potatoes. It was an additional support for our family.
In 1933 Hitler came to power in Germany. We could find information about what was happening in Germany in newspapers or hear about it on the radio, although it wasn’t complete, as I realized later. However, at that time I cared little about the political events. I was 20 and had totally different interests.
While I was studying in the college my brother was offered the position of Chief Power Engineering Specialist at the plant in Dmitrov, Moscow region. In 1937 he moved to Dmitrov along with our parents. I stayed in Shterovka. In 1938 my brother was appointed as dispatcher of the Moskwa-Volga channel. He moved to Moscow and our parents stayed in Dmitrov. In Moscow my brother married our second cousin on our father’s side Lina Mexina. In 1940 they had a daughter that had defects in her development and died. The doctors said it happened because theirs was a marriage between relatives. They didn’t have any more children.
Repression of 19368 and the following years didn’t touch our family, except for uncle Lyova – I told about him already. We were sure that he was innocent, of course. This resulted in our doubts that the others arrested were guilty. We already realized that many innocent people were arrested often for slanderous accusations. But we didn’t associate what was happening with the name of Stalin. At that time NKVD managers were fired and taken to court every now and then for the allegedly deviations from the directions of Stalin. Those were public cases that ended in sentencing to death, as a rule. And we believed that Stalin knew nothing about the arrests of innocent people and that those giving direct orders were just using his name. I lived with this belief until the ХХ Party Congress9. When Stalin died in 1953 I cried all day through. I felt like the whole world crushed and there was only uncertainty ahead of us.
In 1936 I went to visit my grandfather in Kirovograd. I met there my future husband Alexandr (Shaya) Nepomniaschy. He was born in a poor Jewish family in the Jewish colony in Dmitrovka, Elisavetgrad province in 1910. He had two sisters and a younger brother. Alexandr’s parents lived in the same street as my grandfather. In 1936 he graduated from the Mechanical Department in Leningrad Mining Institute and got a job assignment to a plant in Leningrad. He was visiting his parents in Kirovograd. My distant relative, his friend, introduced us to one another. We met several times and wrote one another after we left Kirovograd. Very soon Alexandr asked me in one of his letters whether I would agree to become his wife. My answer was “Yes” and I never in my life regretted it.
After finishing the college I got a job assignment at the Lenenergo in Leningrad, because I mentioned to the commission in college that my fiancé was living there. My parents were living in Dmitrov then and I went to visit them. I had already informed them in my letter that I was going to get married. Alexandr also came to Dmitrov and we had a civil registration ceremony in August 1938. My mother organized a small family dinner. Then we left for Leningrad. In April 1939 my husband got a job at the “Barrikady” plant in Stalingrad (Volgograd at present). We moved there and received an apartment from the plant. In August 1939 our son Valery was born in Stalingrad. My mother lived with us for some time. She was taking care of my son and I could go to work. I got a job at the power plant of the tractor plant. When Mama had to leave I hired a babysitter for our son. In 1940 my husband was transferred to Kramatorsk. There was the biggest machine building plant in the USSR. I also got a job at this plant and Valery was with the babysitter. Life was beautiful: I had a loving and well-loved husband, a wonderful son, interesting job and many friends. We celebrated all Soviet holidays at home with big gatherings of our friends. There was a war in Poland at that time, but we didn’t have a feeling that it was going to have anything to do with us. We were finally calmed down by the Peace Agreement10 between the USSR and Germany.
In February 1941 my father died and we buried him at the Jewish cemetery in Dmitrov. My mother was alone in Dmitrov and my husband and I decided that it would be better if she moved in with us. My mother joined us in March.
During the war
We lived in the district for workers. It was located near the plant in the outskirts of the town. On Sunday 22 June 194111 my husband and I went to do some shopping in the town. After we returned home the speech of Molotov12 was already broadcast on the radio. Thus, we heard that the war began.
My husband was summoned to the army right away. His parents, sister and her son came to Kramatorsk from Kirovograd. The power plant where I worked was considered to be a strategic site and I couldn’t obtain permit for the evacuation right away. All seven of us left in November 1941 when the Germans were already bombing Kramatorsk. We decided to go to Novosibirsk. My husband’s older sister Tsylia was living there and we received a letter of invitation from her.
It took us 18 days to get to Cheliabinsk on the freight train that was often bombed. When the train stopped at a station we never knew how long a stop was going to last – 10 minutes or a whole day. We needed food for the children and for ourselves. We had to take the risk of missing the train and run to a store to receive some bread in exchange for cards. The fear of missing the train was stronger than the fear of bombings. In Cheliabinsk we changed for the train to Novosibirsk. We were sitting beside a woman with children. Her children had measles and Valery and Yuriy, my husband’s nephew, got infected. They had complications and we didn’t have any medications.
In Novosibirsk my husband’s parents, his sister Elizaveta and her son stayed at his sister Tsylia’s place. She had a room where she was living with her son. My mother and I decided that we had to move to another place and we rented half a room from a local woman. I went to the recruitment office and when they heard that I was a power-engineering specialist they sent me to work at the power plant. It was a hard work there – the old equipment constantly got out of order. We didn’t quite get along with our landlady. She was constantly picking on us without any reason. I heard that there was a new power plant built near Novosibirsk and I requested to be transferred there. I worked there until the end of the war. There was also an apartment house built for employees. We received an apartment and it was a great relief for us. In March 1942 we crossed the frozen Ob River to reach Krivoschokovo where the station was located.
I was receiving the employee’s card for 800 grams of bread and my mother and son were receiving 400 grams of bread. Besides, there was a canteen at the power plant, and we received one hot meal during a shift. This was a huge support, as we were working 12 hours per shift. Besides, there was a big abandoned area near the building where employees of the power plant could keep their kitchen gardens. We kept our crops in the pits and they could stand even severe frosts there. We didn’t suffer from hunger, but we were bothered by the uncertainty. I had no news from my husband in two years. I was sending requests but their reply was that he was “missing”. Then his parents received a letter from him at the end of 1943. Alexandr’s mother came to us with this letter. We were happy to have this letter and to know that he was alive. We wrote him a letter telling him our new address and he began to write us. He wrote that he was captured, and then he ran away from the camp for military captives and joined the partisan unit of the famous General Kovpak. My husband was in this unit to the end of the war.
In November 1944 my husband got a leave and came to see us. The whole family got together. Valery saw his father for the last time when he was two years old and he didn’t recognize him. Those were happy days. Then my husband went back to his unit and we stayed in Novosibirsk.
My sister Ida evacuated to the Middle Asia. My brother’s wife was there and we corresponded with one another. Thus, Ida found out my address and wrote me a letter. I asked her to come. I thought it would be easier, if we were all together. She was with us from that time. Her husband was in Donetsk to blast the whole network of power plants in case Germans occupied Donetsk. He stayed there for two years. The Germans occupied Donbass twice and twice our army liberated it. In 1944 Ida’s husband joined us. He worked at the Department of Energy of Siberia in Novosibirsk until the end of the war. They lived in the same building that we did.
I worked in two shifts: day shifts on one week and night shifts on another. I heard about the victory on 8 May 1945 when I came back home from a night shift. The people kissed and hugged in the streets and there were lots of people. It was such joy – victory, thank God.
After the war
After the war my mother, Valery and I stayed in Novosibirsk for some time waiting to hear from my husband. Ida’s husband got a job assignment at the Department of Energy in Moscow and they left for Moscow. Ida got a job of Deputy Chief Accountant of Mosenergo and her husband had a job at the Ministry of Power Plants in Moscow. They were renting a room in Moscow at the beginning and then in 1964 they placed a deposit into a cooperative association to build a private two-room apartment. My sister retired when she was 55. She died in 1983.
My brother Israil was at the war from 1941 till 1945. He returned as an invalid and got a job at the Ministry of power plants. Before the war he lived at a communal apartment with his wife. After the war he received a separate two-room apartment. He died in 1985.
My husband wrote me that he had received a job in Chernovtsy and was waiting for us there. He wrote that the town wasn’t destroyed and we could find a dwelling and a job. I quit my job at the power plant and we went to Chernovtsy: my mother, my son and I.
In few years after I left Novosibirsk I got to know that I was awarded a medal “For heroic labor during the war”. I was notified that the medal was at the Supreme Soviet. I wrote them a letter and they brought my award home. So, I made my contribution into the victory.
Our life in Chernovtsy was on the way to improvement. I got a job as an electrical engineer at Chernovtsy military unit. I was supervising the work of 18 electricians. I worked there for 23 years. My husband also had a job and nobody in our family faced any anti-Semitism. I know that there were expressions of anti-Semitism after the war both on everyday life and state levels. Of course I need to give tribute to the commanding officer of our garrison that neither persecution of cosmopolitism in 1948 nor the “doctors’ case”13 at the beginning of 1953 touched any of us. This commanding officer was a very decent man. We had a meeting where we were supposed to condemn the doctors. He spoke at this meeting saying “We have people of different nationalities in our team, including Jews. I do request you to treat each other well to avoid any misunderstandings”. I remember every word that he said. It was important that he said this at the height of the “doctors’ case” period, before it became known that this whole case was slanderous. I also remember people not allowing Jewish physicians to visit them at home, so strong the Soviet propaganda was. Our acquaintances told me that they were feeling how the attitude towards Jews changed. I do think that I avoided it due to the efforts of our Chief. There were quite a few Jews at where I worked and none of them suffered in any way. Besides, Chernovtsy was an international town. Representatives of many nationalities lived there and there were no conflicts in this regard.
My mother was living with us. At that time the synagogue was closed and my mother was praying at home. She kept observing the Jewish traditions. I was trying to help her. We were cooking the Pesach dishes together. I bought matsa from a private bakery. My mother observed Sabbath, we lit candles at home and cooked meals for Saturday. My husband and I weren’t religious, but we understood how important this was for mama and that we had to support her. We are not religious people and our son isn’t either. My mother didn’t insist on our following religious rules or traditions. Our son grew up a Soviet man and a person without a nationality. He is an atheist, although he identifies himself as a Jew. We couldn’t give him any religious education, as we ourselves were atheists.
In 1947 my mother went to my sister in Moscow. She lived there until 1957 and returned to us being a very ill person. In Moscow my mother had pneumonia resulting in a heart disease. My mother died in 1961. We buried her according to the Jewish ritual at the Jewish cemetery in Chernovtsy.
My son went to a Russian school in 1947. He studied well and was especially fond of mathematics. In 1957 he finished the secondary school with a silver medal. He wanted to study at the university in Moscow, but it was difficult to enter there and I convinced him that it would be better for him to study in Chernovtsy and live at home rather than at a hostel in Moscow. My son worked for a year and entered the Department of Mathematics at Chernovtsy University in 1958. Rector of the university told us that they were planning to open the department of cybernetics that same year at the university and that he was going to transfer Valery there. In 1963 my son Valery graduated from the University and received a diploma with distinction. That same year he became a post-graduate student at the Novosibirsk Institute of cybernetics. It was the leading research center of cybernetics at that time. Valery became a candidate of science in mathematics. He has over 150 publications now. He is Chief of the laboratory of cybernetics in Novosibirsk.
Valery got married in Chernovtsy in June 1966 when he was visiting us during his vacation. His wife Anna Yahotinskaya, a Jew, also graduated from Chernovtsy University. They knew each other since they were students. Valery and Anna had a civil registration ceremony and had a small party inviting their closest friends and relatives. Then they went to Novosibirsk where they live now. Anna had a difficult childhood. She was born in the Khotyn ghetto in 1942. Anna’s sister Klara was also born in the ghetto in 1944. When in 1944 the Soviet army liberated inmates of the ghetto Anna’s father was recruited to the army. He perished at the front. Her mother was raising her two daughters alone. Anna is a candidate of science now. She goes to international conferences, has many publications and reads a special course at the Novosibirsk university. Unfortunately, Anna’s difficult childhood had its impact on her life – she has no children.
We were very happy when we heard about Israel. It was so nice to think that Jews got their own state at last. It is so terrible that there is no peace there and the people cannot live, work and raise their children in peace. I know what a war is like, but terrorism seems a lot more scaring for me. What kind of people they are to kill and blast people in buses and at discotheques. I am a mother myself and I believe that people of Israel have the right to defend their country, their life and the life of their children, their future from the terrorism.
My husband has visited Israel twice and admires this country. We have never considered emigration. Our only son is here. Of course, if he wanted to go to Israel we would follow him, but he doesn’t want to go. He can visit us at least once a year. While we were young, when we worked and were busy we didn’t feel any loneliness. We didn’t have time to think about it. We never gave up hope that we would be together one day. I can’t say what is going to happen further on. Parents need to be where their children are.
In the recent ten years the Jewish life in Chernovtsy has restored. Regretfully, I haven’t left the house in the recent few years – I can’t walk. My husband is my only contact with the outer world. We have been together for 64 years. In 1998 we had a diamond wedding anniversary and a festive celebration at the Municipal Registry Palace. My husband attends the events arranged by Chesed and the Jewish Charity Committee and tells me about them. He attends lectures in history of the Jewish people and we discuss them when he comes home. I have a need in this information. Since I retired I began to fast at Yom-Kipur. I don’t always strictly observe it but my mother said that an ill person could afford to eat something extra – it is only good for his or her health. We receive and read Jewish newspapers and magazines. Chesed sends a nurse to help us. Volunteers visit us. We enjoy care and attention. I would like to wish all Jews in whatever country they live happiness and peace.
Glossary
1 Educational institutions for young people without secondary education, specifically established by the Soviet power.
2 In the mid-1930s Stalin launched a major campaign of political terror. The purges, arrests, and deportations to labor camps touched virtually every family. Untold numbers of party, industrial, and military leaders disappeared during the “Great Terror”. Indeed, between 1934 and 1938 two-thirds of the members of the 1934 Central Committee were sentenced and executed.
3 In 1920s there were many anti-Semitic gangs in Ukraine. They killed Jews and burnt their houses, they robbed their houses, raped women and killed children.
4 White Guards counter-revolutionary gang led by general Denikin. They were famous for their brigandage and their anti-Semitic actions all over Russia; legends were told of their cruelty. Few survived their pogroms
5 Komsomol –Communist youth organization created by the Communist Party to make sure that the state would be in control of the ideological upbringing and spiritual development of the youth almost until the age of 30.
6 In those years it was not safe to go to the synagogue. Those were the horrific 1930s – the period of struggle against religion. There was only one synagogue left of the 300 existing in Kiev before the revolution of 1917. Cult structures were removed; rabbis, Orthodox and Roman Catholic priests disappeared behind the KGB (State Security Committee) walls.
7 In 1920 an artificial famine was introduced in Ukraine that caused the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress the protesting peasants that did ot want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful forced famine in 1930-1934 in Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the farmers. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious farmers that did not want to accept the Soviet power and join the collective farms.
8 In the mid-1930s Stalin launched a major campaign of political terror. The purges, arrests, and deportations to labor camps touched virtually every family. Untold numbers of party, industrial, and military leaders disappeared during the “Great Terror”. Indeed, between 1934 and 1938 two-thirds of the members of the 1934 Central Committee were sentenced and executed.
9 20th Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956. Khruschov publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what was happening in the USSR during Stalin’s leadership.
10 non-aggression pact between Germany and the Soviet Union, which fall into history under name Molotov-Ribbentrop pactum. Engaged in a border war with Japan in the Far East and fearing the German advance in the west, the Soviet government in 1939 began secret negotiations for a nonaggression pact with Germany. In August 1939 it suddenly announced the conclusion of a Soviet-German pact of friendship and nonaggression. This pact contained a secret clause providing for the partition of Poland and for Soviet and German spheres of influence in Eastern Europe.
11 On 22 June 1941 at 5 o’clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring a war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War.
12 MOLOTOV (Skriabin) Viacheslav Mikhailovich (1890-1986) , a Soviet political leader During the October revolution he was a member of the Military Revolutionary Committee. He was belonged to the closest political surrounding of I.V. Stalin; one of the most active organizers of repression in the 1930s - early 1950s. He spoke against criticism of the cult of Stalin in mid 1950s.
13 «Doctors’ Case» - The so-called Doctors’ Case was a set of accusations deliberately forged by Stalin’s government and the KGB against Jewish doctors of the Kremlin hospital charging them with the murder of outstanding Bolsheviks. The “Case” was started in 1952, but was never finished because Stalin died in 1953.
Riva Pizman Biography
Faina Melamed
Faina Melamed
Odessa
Ukraine
Interviewer: Tatiana Portnaya
Date of interview: May 2003
Faina Melamed is a 74-year-old short fatty lady with big sad eyes. She takes care of herself: she has a nice haircut and well-groomed colored hair and she has a lilac dress on matching with her eyes. Faina lives in a two-bedroom apartment with her husband Yefim Shpielberg. Her apartment is very clean. She has quite a collection of china crockery and statues in two cupboards: this was Faina’s hobby in the past. Now she sells pieces of this collection: her husband’s and her pensions are too small to make their living. Behind the glass there is a photograph of their daughter who died in a tragic accident and photos of their grandchildren. During our conversation Faina listens to the telephone intently. She always waits for her grandchildren to call.
My maternal grandfather Ariee Goichman was born and lived in Golovanevsk town, Kirovohrad region. [It is a town in Baltski district, Podolsk province. According to the census of 1897 its population was 8,148 residents, 4,320 of them were Jews.] Regretfully, I cannot tell even approximate date of his birth. From what my mother told me I know that my grandfather Ariee owned a mill and had grain stocks. I guess he had some secular education. It goes without saying that he had religious education. He was very religious and knew Torah well. My mother told me that grandfather Ariee was tall, wore a yarmulka and always put on his glasses to read the Torah. There was a synagogue in the town. My grandfather went to the synagogue every Saturday. He recited a prayer at home in the morning, put on his tallit and tefillin. They all spoke Yiddish in the family. My grandfather had a house and kept livestock. They had an orchard and vegetable garden and kept chickens, geese and cows. There was always fresh milk and eggs in the house. They baked bread, I don’t have any information about my grandfather’s date or place of death. I think he died in Golovanevsk in 1910s.
My grandmother Hana Goichman (I don’t know the date of her birth) was born in this same town. She was raising the children and keeping the house. My mother told me that my grandmother was a wise and courageous woman. She always wore a kerchief and on Sabbath she put on a lace shawl that she passed on to my mother later. On Sabbath my grandmother lit as many candles as there were members in the family. My grandfather returned from the synagogue, recited Kiddush, and the family sat down to dinner. They observed kashrut strictly. My grandmother taught my mother to observe kashrut. For example, my grandmother always salted meat and waited until all blood was gone and only then she started cooking it. My mother did so as well, and so do I. My grandmother Hana was a good housewife. My mother told me that there was ideal order and cleanness in their house. Even locks were polished. My grandmother died in Golovanevsk in the 1930s. Grandmother had five children: three sons and two daughters.
Her older son Victor was born in 1885. He studied in cheder and then in yeshivah. At the age of about 20 he moved to Odessa. He served at the synagogue and continued his studies. I don’t know how his position was called. Victor married a Jewish girl named Molka. They had two daughters and two sons. During the Great Patriotic War 1 Victor, his wife and their daughters Sara and Hana evacuated to Samarkand. Their sons went to the front and perished. I only know the name of one of them: Abram. Victor fell ill with typhoid and died in Samarkand during the war. He was buried in the cemetery of Buchara Jews. [Buchara Jews are an ethnic group of Jews residing in Middle Asia. They are descendants of Mesopotamian Jews. They spoke the Farce dialect.] He was buried according to the Jewish traditions. I remember that my mother sat shivah and didn’t even return home for several days. After the war Victor’s wife Molka and her two daughters moved to some place in Kazakhstan where she died in a tragic accident. She was riding a bull-driven wagon in the steppe doing some task when she lost her way and froze to death. This happened in winter. She was buried in Kazakhstan. Her daughters Sara and Hana returned to Odessa, but I lost contact with them.
The names of two other brothers of my mother were Baruch and Gedali. I cannot tell for sure, but I believe Baruch was born in 1887 and Gedali was born in 1889. They studied in cheder. Grandfather Ariee helped them to buy a mill. They became its owners. During the Civil War 2 their employees killed them.
My mother’s older sister Faina was born in 1893. I don’t know anything about her life, but my mother told me how she died. During the Civil War a Petlura’s 3 gang came to the town. Faina was sitting at home holding her baby and one of Petlura’s bandits killed her and the baby with a sword.
My mother’s younger sister Rosa was born in 1899. Rosa left Golovanevsk for Shpola town near Kiev where she married Rovin Yampolski. He was an artist. They had a hard and poor life before the Great Patriotic War. I remember how my mother sent them a letter and some money, Rosa wrote back that she was so happy and that my mother’s letter was like a gift from heaven. When the war began we lost track of them. After the war we visited Shpola. Its residents told us that during the Great Gatriotic War Germans drowned Rosa and her husband in a well. Somebody gave us a small still life picture that Rosa’s husband painted. This is all that we have of my mother’s sister.
My mother Leya Melamed was born in Golovanevsk town in 1897. I don’t know where she studied, but she had education. She could read and write in Russian. She spoke Yiddish with my father at home and she knew many prayers. Perhaps, she studied in a Jewish school. Somehow I didn’t ask my mother these questions and now I can only guess. I remember that my mother danced waltz and tango beautifully. In her childhood her closest friend was her cousin sister Rieva. My mother was an interesting woman. She was slim, had a slender waist and beautiful face. She never used make up, but had pink cheeks. I don’t know how my mother met my father, but I think it happened in Golovanevsk.
My paternal grandfather Yakov Melamed – whose date of birth I don’t know, regretfully –, was born and lived in Odessa. Grandfather Yakov had education. He spoke Yiddish and Russian and had a good conduct of English. He was a rich man, an industrialist. He had a luxurious apartment in 20, Petra Velikogo Street and his own carriage and horses. My grandfather was a gambler and used to lose a lot of money. My grandmother divorced him and raised her four children herself. My grandfather died in the 1920s.
My paternal grandmother Sara Melamed, nee Shpolianskaya, was born in Odessa. Unfortunately, I don’t know her date of birth either. My father told me that she finished a grammar school and received music education. She played the piano. My grandmother had to earn her living. It was a difficult period of the Civil War and October [Russian] Revolution 4. My grandmother played at concerts and gave private lessons. My grandmother Sara lived in Odessa in the family of her younger daughter Eva. During the Great Patriotic war she perished in the ghetto. I don’t know any details of her death.
My father’s older sister Enia was born in 1891. She received elementary education in a Jewish elementary school. Enia got married at an early age and moved to Moscow. I don’t know who her husband was. Enia was a housewife and raised children. She had two sons: Senia and Yasha. Yasha became an engineer. He managed construction of furnaces. Senia also had some official position. I don’t know any details. They lived in Moscow. Enia died in Moscow in 1965. Her sons also passed away.
My father’s brother Pavel was born in Odessa. For some reason he had the same date of birth indicated in his passport as my father: 1895. We, children, even used to laugh at it. However, they were not twins. One of them had a different date of birth, of course. Pavel finished the vocal department of Odessa Conservatory. He became a singer and worked in Moscow Philharmonic under the pseudonym of Pavel Riazanski. He often went on tours. Before the Great Patriotic War, when we were in Samarkand, my father saw a poster with his brother’s picture and name of Pavel Riazanski on it. My father ran to the Philharmonic immediately. It was a wonderful meeting. There was a party. A lamb was slaughtered for the occasion and guests danced on tables. I remember uncle Pavel as a cheerful and charming man. His wife Elena was a Jew. They had three sons: Lyonia, Edik and Igor. Pavel died in the 1960s. He was buried in Moscow. Their older son Edik played in a military orchestra 21 years. He fell ill. His family thought there was something wrong with his stomach, but it turned out to be worse: cancer. He died young in the 1970s. I remember well that it happened in March. I saw Lyonia when he was a small boy when my uncle came on tours. Igor, the youngest, visited us few years ago (in the 1990s). He came from Gorkiy with his wife. They stayed with us. We received them very well. We went to a restaurant. Now I have no information about Lyonia or Igor’s life.
My father’s younger sister Yeva was born in 1897. She finished a conservatory. She played the piano and taught in a music school. Yeva married musician Alexandr Krylov, a Jew. In 1930 Yeva gave birth to her son Semyon and in 1936 her son Leonid was born. During the Great Patriotic War Yeva’s husband Alexandr perished at the front. Yeva and her children failed to evacuate and they perished in Odessa during [Romanian] occupation 5. Semyon was killed when he came outside to consider the weather when all of a sudden Romanians appeared ‘Ah, zhydovskaya morda!’ [Jewish mug] and killed him. Yeva, her younger son Leonid and my grandmother Sara were in the ghetto in Odessa. My grandmother perished and Yeva and her son miraculously survived. After the war Leonid finished a conservatory and moved to live in Moscow. He played the violin in a symphonic orchestra conducted by Svetlanov. [Evgeniy Fyodorovich Svetlanov, 1928–2003, was a Soviet conductor and composer. In 1965 he became art director and chief conductor of the State Symphonic Orchestra of the USSR.] He toured to many countries across the world with this orchestra. He also gave solo concerts. He still works in this orchestra. Aunt Yeva died in Moscow in 1950s.
My father Efim Melamed was born on 9 September 1895. I have an excerpt from the synagogue roster that indicates that he was born in Uman. I don’t know how the family happened to be in Uman at that period of time. My father studied at school and received religious education at home. He and his brother studied Hebrew and Torah with a teacher who visited them at home. He also had private classes of playing the violin. My father’s family had a talent for music. When the World War I began my father served as a private in the tsarist army. When the October Revolution began he went to the Red army 6. He served in the troops under command of red commander Yakir 7. I think he did it because he knew about pogroms and the attitude of tsarist power to Jews. He believed that the new regime would bring wealth and prosperity to all. He had a cavalry unit under his command. At home we used to keep letters of gratitude and awards of my father that disappeared later. My father was wounded in his face and had his jaws and tongue seamed. When he met with my mother in Golovanevsk he had long hair and looked like a gypsy, but my mother liked him anyway. They decided to get married.
My parents got married in Golovanevsk in 1920. My mother told me about her wedding. She didn’t even have a wedding gown. They found a cut of fabric at home. A tailor cut it for a dress and fixed the cut on her with pins and she spent a whole evening wearing this dress. My mother said that they invited a rabbi and had a chuppah. My grandmother Hana did the cooking and the whole family was helping her.
My father wasn’t a communist, but he always held key positions. He was responsible for meat stocks in Golovanevsk. In 1921 my older brother Boris was born. Since my parents spoke Yiddish at home Boris knew Yiddish well. In 1925 my sister Esfir was born. My parents moved to Odessa from Golovanevsk approximately in 1927. I was born in Odessa on 25 February 1929. During famine 8 in 1932 my father was sent to work in Samarkand in Uzbekistan. We traveled by train. I don’t know exactly what his work was about, but he had to work a lot. Before the Great Patriotic War he was director of a bakery.
Growing up
In Samarkand we lived in the neighborhood of Buchara Jews and my father spoke Hebrew with them because they want to. [Buchara Jews spoke a Farce dialect, Faina’s father spoke Yiddish, therefore, the only language they could communicate in was Hebrew, the language of the Torah.] We were accommodated in the house owned by a woman, who also living there. There was a big verandah and a basement in her house. We lodged in three rooms: bedroom, dining room and a long narrow room that was like a corridor – the children slept in it. The walls were whitewashed and there were photographs and portraits on them. There were stone floors that we rubbed with a metal scraper until it became yellow. There was a big oak table in the dining room where our family got together on holidays. There were nickel-plated beds with ironclad base. There was a wardrobe with a mirror in my parents’ bedroom. It was a most valuable piece in our home. We had a Buchara-type kitchen. There was a fireplace in the center and everything was baked and cooked on the floor. It was a pit of about 20 cm deep with coal in it. There was a U-brick stand. On Sabbath coal was put in this pit. It smoldered in the pit and kept warmth through Saturday. Buchara Jews cooked delicious food and we borrowed their recipes. (I used to do my cooking in Buchara manner, but not any more.) My father made stocks of raisins, dried apricots and nuts for winter. He kept apples and vegetables in sand. My parents also bought lamb, treated it in a special manner, added pepper, salt, garlic and various spices. This meat and the vegetables were kept in the cellar. My father was very good at doing things about the house.
We didn’t have much to live on, but my mother always demanded that the house was kept clean. We whitewashed the walls, rubbed the floors and washed everything. There were frequent earthquakes that resulted in cracks in the walls. After each earthquake we began repairs. We had a toilet in the yard. There was a small lake near our house from where we took water for cooking. We also washed and bathed in this lake. We went to bathe in the lake every evening. In summer we stayed outside all the time. We even took our beds to the yard to sleep outside. When it was very hot my brother and sister and I went to bathe in the waterfalls. The water there was cold and it felt nice to be standing in this water. We climbed trees and picked fruit.
When we came to Samarkand my brother Boris continued studying in a Russian school. Boris was very talented. He could listen to what his teachers explained in class and this was sufficient for him. After finishing school he entered the Medical College. Boris was very sociable and had many Uzbek and Russian friends. Once before the war my father gave him an expensive Swiss watch. Boris lost it. We were all upset. My mother said that if it was the God’s intention that he found his watch he had to walk again on the same road. My brother went back and found his watch.
My sister Esfir studied in the same Russian school as Boris, in Samarkand. There were Russian, Uzbek and Jewish children in her school. They never discussed nationality issues. Esfir studied very well. She was very reserved, responsible and hardworking. She stayed awake until late at night doing her homework. After finishing school Esfir entered the Medical College like her brother Boris.
My childhood was quiet. I didn’t go to kindergarten. My brother and sister looked after me when my parents were at work. I went to school in 1936. I can hardly remember my first teacher. I remember that it was hard for me at school. My brother and sister studied in this same school. They were good at school and from the first days of my studies my teachers kept telling me that I should be as good as they and try as hard as they to be the best. And I was a fidget! I wanted to be different from them and was often naughty. I did well with my studies, but I wasn’t as assiduous or industrious as my sister. My mother worked at the knitwear factory and didn’t have time to spend with us. I got along well with my brother and sister and we were close friends. This is how we were growing up.
My parents tried to observe Jewish traditions when we were in Samarkand. My mother went to the synagogue on Sabbath and holidays. My father didn’t go to the synagogue. Probably his position didn’t allow him to, but he preyed usually at home with his tallit and tefillin on. My father had a prayer book and my mother had a different one. Before Sabbath my sister and I helped my mother to do the apartment. My mother cooked a lot of food and we prepared for celebration of Sabbath. My mother lit two candles. My brother and sister could understand and speak Yiddish well while I could only understand it. Our preparations to Pesach usually took several days. We cleaned off any breadcrumbs in the apartment. We used special crockery. I remember well big plates with portioners and special inscriptions in Hebrew instructing what food should be placed in them. At Pesach we all reclined on cushions around the fireplace on the floor. I found it funny when my father recited prayers. Once at Pesach my father was reciting a prayer in Hebrew from some special book [editor’s note: she refers to the Haggadah here] and we were singing songs. My brother and sister were very serious about it, but I burst into laughter all of a sudden. My father got very offended.
We didn’t face any anti-Semitism in Samarkand before the war. We observed our Jewish holidays, Uzbek people celebrated theirs and Russians had their celebrations. We celebrated Soviet holidays – 1 May, October Revolution Day 9 all together. Housewives of all nationalities came to the market where they could buy whatever food each of them needed. There were shochets that slaughtered chickens, cows and sheep. We bought meat from them. My mother bought milk from Buchara Jews. She knew that they observed kashrut and they kept milk in a special bucket that they never used for other products.
Arrests in 1937 [during Great Terror] 10 didn’t affect our family. However, we had a neighbor, who came to us one night and told us with tears in her eyes that her husband Volodia had been arrested. Her husband was a communist. He was a Party official. Some time later she was ordered to move out of their apartment and they moved into a basement.
During the war
After I finished the 5th form in 1941 the Great Patriotic War began. I remember the day when the war began. Our relatives from Kazakhstan were visiting us. We went to swim in the lake: I, Esfir, Boris, Ania, my mother’s cousin sister and Sopha, my mother’s niece. We were going past the club where we used to go dancing in the evening when we heard Levitan 11 on the radio. He broke the news that the war began. My father was 46 and had stomach ulcer, but he said he didn’t want to stay at home when such disaster happened. He felt he was bound to go to the front in 1942.
There were people in evacuation in Samarkand. Some worked as teachers in schools. I remember that I just loved our teacher of mathematic Rachel Iosipovna, a Jew from Leningrad. She was a very good teacher and a kind and nice lady. I also remember very well our teacher of Physics Roman Israilevich, a Jew. Thanks to his presentation such difficult subject as physics became easy to understand for me. Somehow I thought that teachers who were there in evacuation were better specialists than local teachers. I also remember my teacher of history. He was blind and his wife accompanied him to our class. During classes she used to sit at the last desk altering and patching old clothes. This teacher could listen to a pupil’s answer, but he knew when pupils were just reading from the textbook. Director of our school Mark Zavulonovich, a Buchara Jew, was a very cultured and intelligent man, but a strict director. Our teachers were kind and we took advantage of their kindness. During classes we used to escape from school through windows (our classroom was on the ground floor) and go to swim in the lake. Teachers often invited my mother to come to see them to discuss my conduct. Afterward I tried to be quiet for few days, but then I continued in my usual manner. We were all friends in my class. We often went to the cinema and played many games. I had many friends of various nationalities. My close friend Nadia was Russian. Her father worked at the mill and they lived there. They often gave me flat cookies that her mother made. Nadia and her family supported us during the war.
During the war we were selling our belongings and books (my father had a big collection) to buy food. Esfir continued her studies in college during the war. During their practical training my sister was so accurate with her diagnostics that it surprised her teachers. My sister received food coupons in college. My mother made zatirukha [a kind of porridge] from corns. We ate everything eatable to survive. It was possible to buy bread, but it was far too expensive and besides, one had to stand in line a whole night to get it. But when we managed to buy a loaf of bread how happy we were! My mother made lemonade, we cut bread in small pieces and enjoyed the meal to the utmost. We were always feeling hungry!
My brother Boris was mobilized to the army in 1943 and in a month went to the front. My mother kept praying for Boris and for father. She lit an oil wick (there were no candles) and recited prayers. My father perished in 1943. We received a notification that my father perished defending our Motherland. My mother kept this notification for a long time, but it got lost when we were moving into a new apartment and I don’t know where my father perished. My brother was an attendant and then a medical nurse assistant in hospital. He was wounded and was taken to hospital and then demobilized. He returned home in spring 1945. He continued to study in medical college.
After the war
I remember 9 May 1945 [Victory Day] very well. The radio announced that the war was over. People hugged in the streets and we hopped and screamed. Our housekeeping manager kept telling people that it would be good to hang a red flag. Where would one find a flag? I had a cherry dress that I cut apart and hanged it as a flag. It looked different, but people didn’t mind. They were crying and rejoicing. Of course, we were in the rear and didn’t go through all horrors of the war, but we saw people in evacuation dying of cold and hunger, even though we were trying to support and help them as much as we could.
Some time later we received a letter from aunt Yeva from Odessa. She and her son managed to survive in the ghetto miraculously. Their apartment was robbed and they were miserable poor. My mother and I packed whatever we could and sent her this package with our neighbor who was going back to Odessa.
After finishing school in 1946 I entered an advanced three-year course at the medical School. After finishing it I began to work in an infectious hospital. Once I went to a kishlak on business trip. There were many severely ill patients in this village. I got scared that I might fail to help them and I ran away. I was afraid of going back to hospital to pick my documents and I was hiding away. Later my sister and I went there to pick my belongings but still I didn’t pick my documents. I never went back to work. I was young and stupid. Once I bumped into chief doctor of our hospital. He said ‘It’s only because I respect your sister I shall not sue you’. This was the end of my medical career and my only practice was looking after my mother.
In the late 1940s we got to know from the radio about the establishment of Israel. At that time I had a vague idea what it was all about, but now, when we hear about military actions there we get very concerned. As for Buchara Jews grew up among, kept saying ‘Jerushalaim, Israel!’ They want to move to the Israel.
After finishing his college Boris went to work as a doctor. In 1951 he wanted to get married, but my mother and the girl’s parents were against it since the girl’s name was Leya like my mother’s and this is against Jewish rules. [Editor’s note: This was a custom among some branches of the ultra-Orthodox.] Boris went to Odessa at the invitation of aunt Yeva and stayed there. However, he failed to find a job in Odessa and he moved to Pervomaysk, Nikolayev region, where he went to work as a surgeon in hospital. He was a good specialist. Boris never complained of anti-Semitism. He worked in Pervomaysk about 10 years and then he moved to Illichevsk 12 where he went to work in a polyclinic. Boris was married twice. His first wife’s name was Yeva. She was a very beautiful Jewish woman, but Boris couldn’t provide for her to her liking and they divorced. In the 1960s he married a Russian woman named Lena. They had a son named Yuri. They lived 8 years together, but then they divorced. I was helping my brother to raise his son. After finishing school Yuri finished the Railroad College in the 1980s. Later Yuri took down to business. He owns few leather and children’s toys stores. He is a very wealthy man. He has a big three-storied house. He married a Russian girl named Lena. They have a daughter named Svetlana. I love my nephew dearly and he also likes me and my husband. He supported his father and now he supports us. My brother Boris died in 2000 and was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Odessa.
After finishing college Esfir worked in Samarkand for some time. In 1952 she followed her brother to Odessa. She couldn’t find a job in Odessa. This happened in the height of the period of Doctors’ Plot’ 13. The railroad department employed her as a doctor in Tsvetkovo railway junction. She was the only doctor in the area and got great medical experience in all spheres: she practiced as obstetrician, midwife, cardiologist, etc. She was much respected and valued for her professionalism, kindness and responsiveness. Once her patient said that she wanted her to meet her son who returned from the army. Half a year later my sister married this man. His name was Anatoli Kurmaz. He was Ukrainian. Anatoli worked as a mechanic at the aerodrome. In 1956 my niece Victoria was born. Esfir received an apartment with all comforts in Tsvetkovo: they had running water and toilet.
In 1953, when Stalin died I grieved a lot after him. I collected newspaper articles about him and reread them crying. My mother reprimanded me that even when my father died I didn’t grieve as much as I did after Stalin.
After my sister’s departure I finished a course for typists and went to work in an art shop where my acquaintance helped me to get a job. My brother Boris was calling us to Odessa. In 1954 we sold everything we could and moved to Odessa where we rented a room in Peresyp [in an industrial neighborhood on the outskirts of Odessa]. I couldn’t find a job in Odessa for a long time. Wherever I came they asked me ‘Where have you come from?’ The second question was usually the last one ‘Your nationality?’ And they refused. Besides, I didn’t have a residence permit 14. It lasted so long and I started to have depression. I came to the bakery in Lenin Street looking for a job. One shop superintendent of this bakery told me that he would help me with the permit, but that he could do nothing about a job. He told me to go to a clerk in the militia department in Frantsuzski Boulevard. They asked me few questions and issued a residence permit for one year. Later my brother Boris came to Odessa. He had many friends and acquaintances and one of them, whose surname was Goryunov, helped me to obtain a permanent residential permit in Odessa. My brother’s friends also helped me to get a job of secretary at food storage. Its manager Ivanov who was Russian was raised in a Jewish family and had a good attitude toward Jews. I worked for him 8 years.
When I went to work I had my name included in the list of those who needed a lodging. My mother and I rented another apartment in Ostrovidova Street. We had two small rooms in the basement. My mother made all arrangements required for observance of kashrut and keeping meat products and dairies separately. There were boards and drawers, utensils and crockery. When she returned to Odessa she found a small synagogue in Peresyp, and went there to pray regularly. I didn’t join her. She said prayers at home in the morning and in the evening. On Friday evening my mother lit candles. Se never did any work on Saturday.
In 1957 a bunch of young people came to a party at my friend Raya’s place on the October Revolution Day. Boys contributed five rubles each for the party and girls 3 rubles. They told me to make meat. My mother bought beef sirloin and I fried it nicely. I wasn’t quite eager to go to this party. I had no interest in any of the young people to be there. I dressed up and put on a small apron to kind of serve at the table. I was just going to kill time. When they began to dance Sasha, a Russian boy, invited me. Then I got another invitation from Efim Shpielberg. He was a handsome boy. I danced with him and he convinced me to take off my apron and enjoy the party like everybody else did. By the end of the party he declared to me ‘You will be my wife’. I advised him to test his feelings. After this party he invited me to his aunt Polia’s birthday. I got confused and asked him ‘What if your mother doesn’t like me?’ and he replied ‘It’s all done! It doesn’t matter whether she likes you or not! I’ve made a decision!’ We didn’t have any wedding party. He just came to live with us in our basement. His mother was angry ‘Why go to this cell? You have such girls with apartments!’ and he replied ‘You go take a look at this cell. It’s as clean as a pharmacy!’
Efim was born to a religious Jewish family in Odessa in 1929. His father Israel Shpielberg was born near Odessa in 1898. He cut fabrics. He perished at the front near Rostov in 1943. His mother Maria Shpielberg was born in Odessa in 1902, in Moldavanka [a poor Jewish neighborhood on the outskirts of Odessa]. She was a dressmaker. During the Great Patriotic War he got lost during evacuation in Novorossiysk. He was 12 years old. Our soldiers in an artillery battery gave him shelter and he stayed with them. In 1943 he found his mother and sisters in Nukha town, Azerbaijan. After the war they returned to Odessa. Efim finished a military railroad school in Odessa. In 1950 he went to serve in the army. After he returned he changed many jobs before he went to work as foreman of a construction crew at Vorovski factory.
We got married two years after we met. In 1959 we had a civil ceremony in a registry office. My mother cooked something and we ground some coffee. I invited my Russian neighbor Nadia. She was my friend. Efim's mother and my distant relative also came to the wedding. My sister Esfir was away from Odessa at this time. In general, we had a small wedding party. I didn’t have a wedding gown. Life was hard after the war. After we got married we lived in my home in 108, Ostrovidova Street. Although we lived in the basement we kept our rooms ideally clean. We hanged a curtain in one room to separate a kitchen area: there was a kerogas stove, a bucket and a sink with a tap. The rooms were heated with a coal-stoked stove. We fetched water from the yard. We did our laundry in the yard. It was particularly hard in winter when water was ice-cold. There was a toilet in the yard. I was scared of going there since there were rats inside. My mother did all housekeeping. In 1960 my daughter Mila was born.
In 1966 I received a two-bedroom apartment with all comforts in a 5-storied building in Primorskiy district in Odessa. We were so happy about it. Two rooms: one passage room 20 square meters and a bedroom, 16 square meters. 6-square meter kitchen with a gas stove. There was a bathroom. Our neighbors were young and all had children. We got along well with them. Mila went to the kindergarten. In 1968 she went to school # 56. Mila wanted to study music and we bought her a piano. She went to music school with her friends.
My husband earned well and we traveled a lot. We went on cruises on the Black Sea several times. We visited Sochi, Yalta, Novorossiysk, Batumi and Sukhumi. They were fascinating, but expensive trips. We went to the Baltic Republics where we visited Riga, Tallinn and Yurmala. I liked going to Moscow and Leningrad. We had a good time in Minsk. We liked the town. There were many of my friends from Samarkand. In 1976 my husband and I took a 2-month trip to Uzbekistan. We visited Tashkent, Buchara and Samarkand, the town of my youth. I felt like being young again; I breathed in the air of my childhood: pise-walled huts, meandering streets and rich bazaars in Samarkand with plenty of fruit, greeneries, heaps of dried apricots and melons.
About this time I also took trips to Bulgaria and Romania. However, there was a woman from Ovidiopol in our tourist group who kept talking about zhydy [abusive word for a Jew] all the time. She treated me all right and I said to her ‘But you hurt me!’ and she replied ‘It has nothing to do with you’. When we were in Bucharest, during the excursion, when our tour guide was telling us about a picture of a Jewish artist she gathered people around her and began to talk about zhydy. Her presence spoiled my whole trip.
In 1968 my mother-in-law Maria Shpielberg died. We buried her as older people recommended. There was a group of older Jews at the cemetery. They recited the Kaddish for some compensation. In 1976 my mother Leya Melamed died. She was ill for a long time and we attended to her. We also buried her in the Jewish cemetery. Older Jews at the cemetery recited the Kaddish for some compensation.
In 1970 Esfir and her family came to live in Odessa. She went to work as a therapist in the railroad polyclinic and her husband Anatoli went to work at a plant. Their daughter Victoria continued to study at school. Victoria often stayed with us since her school was nearby. In 1972 they received a two-bedroom apartment with all comforts in Tairova settlement [a new district in Odessa]. After finishing school Victoria entered the sanitary Equipment Faculty of Construction College. She finished it successfully and worked as an engineer in a design institute. In 1984 my sister's husband died. In 1991, at the age of 35 Victoria married Alexandr Nikolaev, Russian. He worked as a painter. They had a son named Sasha. In 2000 they moved to Oldenburg in Germany and Esfir went with them. They miss what they’ve left. Victoria cannot find a job and is very much concerned about it. Her son Sasha goes to a German school and can already speak German well. My sister has private patients: our emigrants from Ukraine and Russia. She can diagnose very well, listen to a patient and be compassionate.
My daughter Mila studied well at school. She had many friends at school and in the yard. I was very happy that children liked her: it meant she was growing to be an honest and decent person. She was chairman of the council of her pioneer unit in class and then she became secretary of the school Komsomol 15 unit. She invited her classmates to birthdays or other holidays at home. I grumbled about it: I had a lot of cooking and cleaning to do. My husband always calmed me down in such situations. When children came to our home I always tried to make them sufficient food and make them feel at ease.
In 1978 Mila finished school and entered the Faculty of Cryogen Engineering in the Refrigeration College. She studied successfully in the College. She passed all exams and tests on time. There were always young men around her. She made many friends and there were Jewish friends among them. Once she met a Russian guy named Andrei Makarenko, student of the Construction College, at a party. We wanted Mila to marry a good Jewish man, but look what happened. Mila got pregnant and they got married in 1981. Mila and Andrei had a civil ceremony in a registry office. My husband rented a hall for two days in a nice health center. Our guests could stay inside or go outside.
Andrei came to live with us. The newly weds settled down in the bedroom and we stayed in our passage room. In 1982 my first grandson Igor was born. Mila continued her studies, Andrei worked as a painter and I had to quit work to take care of my grandson. I enjoyed it, though my age had its affect on me and Igor was a restless and sickly boy. I remember once I wet to a grocery store pushing the pram with Igor when he was a baby. They were selling pineapples and there was a long line. I asked the to let me buy ahead of the line and people didn’t mind. One woman, however, didn’t like it at all and tried to push me out of the line with her elbows. I managed to buy these pineapples and when I was leaving the store I heard ‘Look, this zhydovka ignored the line!’ This was the first time in my life I heard anything like this. I grabbed her shopping bags from her and hit them on her head. An elderly old man standing in line said loudly ‘You’ve done it right, woman!’ This was the only time in my life when I heard an abuse.
Mila finished her college in 1984 and went to work as an engineer in a design institute. In 1984 Andrei’s mother received an apartment and she could keep her old lodging as well. Andrei and Mila moved in to her apartment. Actually, it was a two-bedroom communal apartment where they only had one room. My husband gave them money to buy construction materials and Andrei renovated this room. Some time later their neighbor tenant died and they received her room and became owners of a two-bedroom apartment. In 1986 our granddaughter Yulia was born. Mila left her work and became a housewife. My husband was very happy about his granddaughter’s birth and bought a car that he gave to Mila and Andrei. In 1989, 13 April they had an accident. Mila died and Andrei survived. This was the most horrific moment in our life. We buried Mila in the Jewish cemetery. I don’t know where we got strength to outlive this grief, but I cried day in and day out. To go on living we took our grandchildren to live with us.
Some time later Andrei married a Russian woman. In 1995 the Jewish school Or Sameach 16 opened in Odessa. Igor went to study in this school. One year later he was circumcised and got a Jewish name of Igal. Yulia also studied in Or Sameach. The children studied Jewish traditions, Ivrit, Jewish prayers and observed Jewish holidays. They go to the synagogue on Jewish holidays and take us with them. Sometimes they ask me to cook for a holiday. They like to observe Pesach. I make wonderful gefilte fish and broth with matzah. Before Pesach Yulia helps me to clean the apartment. I made for the grandchildren holiday supper. When the children grew bigger they went to live with their father, but they often come to see us.
After finishing school Igor entered the Faculty of Economics and Law in Odessa University. Igor studies at the extramural department and works as a consultant assistant in a store selling household appliances. Yulia entered the Faculty of Culturology in Odessa University after finishing school in 2003. We have very nice and caring grandchildren.
Of course, we are in need. It’s impossible to live on our pension and we don’t have any additional allowances. We receive food packages from Gmilus Hesed, a Jewish organization, and my nephew Yuri supports us with money. My husband does exercises and goes to swim in the sea in Arcadia every morning, but his age speaks of itself, nevertheless. He has been in hospital twice or three times. He had a heart problem and pneumonia. Yuri paid for his stay in hospital. We receive Jewish newspapers and magazines Or Sameach, Shamrey Sabboth and Lechaim, and we get invitations to various events in Hesed. I want my grandchildren to grow up decent people and I want my husband and me to be healthy and to be no burden to anybody. I want piece and wealth to rule in Israel, America and Ukraine, so that we didn’t worry about our close and dear ones.
Glossary
1 Great Patriotic War
On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o’clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.2 Civil War (1918-1920)
The Civil War between the Reds (the Bolsheviks) and the Whites (the anti-Bolsheviks), which broke out in early 1918, ravaged Russia until 1920. The Whites represented all shades of anti-communist groups – Russian army units from World War I, led by anti-Bolshevik officers, by anti-Bolshevik volunteers and some Mensheviks and Social Revolutionaries. Several of their leaders favored setting up a military dictatorship, but few were outspoken tsarists. Atrocities were committed throughout the Civil War by both sides. The Civil War ended with Bolshevik military victory, thanks to the lack of cooperation among the various White commanders and to the reorganization of the Red forces after Trotsky became commissar for war. It was won, however, only at the price of immense sacrifice; by 1920 Russia was ruined and devastated. In 1920 industrial production was reduced to 14% and agriculture to 50% as compared to 1913.3 Petliura, Simon (1879-1926)
Ukrainian politician, member of the Ukrainian Social Democratic Working Party, one of the leaders of Centralnaya Rada (Central Council), the national government of Ukraine (1917-1918). Military units under his command killed Jews during the Civil War in Ukraine. In the Soviet-Polish war he was on the side of Poland; in 1920 he emigrated. He was killed in Paris by the Jewish nationalist Schwarzbard in revenge for the pogroms against Jews in Ukraine.4 Russian Revolution of 1917
Revolution in which the tsarist regime was overthrown in the Russian Empire and, under Lenin, was replaced by the Bolshevik rule. The two phases of the Revolution were: February Revolution, which came about due to food and fuel shortages during WWI, and during which the tsar abdicated and a provisional government took over. The second phase took place in the form of a coup led by Lenin in October/November (October Revolution) and saw the seizure of power by the Bolsheviks.5 Romanian occupation of Odessa
Romanian troops occupied Odessa in October 1941. They immediately enforced anti-Jewish measures. Following the Antonescu-ordered slaughter of the Jews of Odessa, the Romanian occupation authorities deported the survivors to camps in the Golta district: 54,000 to the Bogdanovka camp, 18,000 to the Akhmetchetka camp, and 8,000 to the Domanevka camp. In Bogdanovka all the Jews were shot, with the Romanian gendarmerie, the Ukrainian police, and Sonderkommando R, made up of Volksdeutsche, taking part. In January and February 1942, 12,000 Ukrainian Jews were murdered in the two other camps. A total of 185,000 Ukrainian Jews were murdered by Romanian and German army units.6 Reds
Red (Soviet) Army supporting the Soviet authorities.7 Yakir
One of the founders of the Communist Party in Ukraine. In 1938 he was arrested and executed.8 Famine in Ukraine
In 1920 a deliberate famine was introduced in the Ukraine causing the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress those protesting peasants who did not want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful deliberate famine in 1930-1934 in the Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the peasants. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious peasants who did not want to accept Soviet power and join collective farms.9 October Revolution Day
October 25 (according to the old calendar), 1917 went down in history as victory day for the Great October Socialist Revolution in Russia. This day is the most significant date in the history of the USSR. Today the anniversary is celebrated as ‘Day of Accord and Reconciliation’ on November 7.10 Great Terror (1934-1938)
During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public ‘show trials’. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the Party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.11 Levitan Yuriy Borisovich (1914–1983)
he famous wartime radio announcer. During the Great Patriotic War read the news from front.12 Illichevsk
Port on the Black Sea, 25 km from Odessa; became a town in 1973.13 Doctors’ Plot
The Doctors’ Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the Party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin’s reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.14 Residence permit
The Soviet authorities restricted freedom of travel within the USSR through the residence permit and kept everybody’s whereabouts under control. Every individual in the USSR needed residential registration; this was a stamp in the passport giving the permanent address of the individual. It was impossible to find a job, or even to travel within the country, without such a stamp. In order to register at somebody else’s apartment one had to be a close relative and if each resident of the apartment had at least 8 square meters to themselves.15 Komsomol
Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread of the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.16 Or Sameach school in Odessa
Founded in 1994, this was the first private Jewish school in the city after Ukraine became independent. The language of teaching is Russian, and Hebrew and Jewish traditions are also taught. The school consists of a co-educational primary school and a secondary school separate for boys and for girls. It has about 500 pupils every year.
Yuriy Paskevich
My family background
I was born in Kiev on 19 August 1931. Both of my parents were students at that time.
My father Avraam Ruvenovich Paskevich was born in Obolonskaya Street, Podol1, Kiev, in 1906. Podol was at the boundary of the area, where the Jewish population was allowed to live2. His father Ruven Paskevich, born in Kiev in 1860s was a balagula (conversational for a freight carrier/Russian). My grandfather inherited this business from his father. My great grandfather’s life story is very interesting. I don’t know his first name. My great grandfather was a cantonist. The history of cantonists in the Russian empire began in the 17th century during the reign of Alexander I. The 1st canton school was established by General Arakcheyev. Military service term was 25 years then and the age of recruitment was 18. Jewish boys went to canton schools at 12 yeas of age. They lived in barracks. They studied military disciplines and marching songs. And they also got general education. When they came of recruitment age, cantonists were recruited to the army. Their appearance was also important. They had to be tall and well-built handsome men. The poorer Jewish families with many children used to let their sons go to canton schools. My great grandfather was a servant to Prince Paskevich. That’s how he got this name. Or, to be more correct, he was count Paskevich Yerevanskiy and Prince of Caucasus (he was a Russian general that had taken part in suppression of an uprising in Poland and conquer of the Caucasus). There is a Paskevich Hill in Yerevan and I was there when I was working in Yerevan. After retirement many cantonists settled down where they had served. There were many of them in the vicinity of Kharkov for some reason. But my great grandfather didn’t want to stay there. After retirement he came to Kiev, married a Jewish girl and started his freight carrier business. I believe my great grandfather was devoted to his faith even during his service. Anyway, he was raising his children religious.
His son Ruven, my grandfather, inherited his father’s business as well as his constitution and temper. He managed his cart-horses with ease. This job of his was in demand and well-paid at his time. I don’t quite know whether my grandfather was the oldest or not, and I don’t have any info about the other siblings.
The name of my grandmother (Ruvim’s wife) was Rosa. Rosa was born in Podol, Kiev, in 1870s. She came from a rich family of the Pritskers and she was a well-loved and spoiled daughter. I don’t know where and how she met my grandfather, but they fell in love at first sight. Of course it made no sense to ask Rosa’s parents to give their blessing and agree to their marriage. My grandmother’s parents wised an aristocrat of a husband for their beautiful daughter and would have never allowed her to marry a balagula. So, my grandfather just kidnapped her. Her parents were so stunned that they refused from their daughter that brought such disgrace on their family. The couple led a miserable life for quite a while. When their younger daughter happened to be in misery after the Patriotic War she came to us and my mother gave her some food, feeling sorry for her. But my father couldn’t stand her because of my grandfather. That was because my grandmother suffered too much from the Pritsker family. She was a beauty, beautiful Rosa was how people called her at Podol. I’ve seen a picture of her and she was truly a beautiful woman. I basically keep some distance from my relatives. But when I grew older I got interested in my family roots and I turned to my relatives asking them for any information about our family. People started sending me photographs and letters. Now I have more knowledge about the history of my family.
My grandfather’s situation was improving gradually. He managed to give education to his children, boys, in particular. They had 5 boys and 2 girls. Their family was religious. They went to the synagogue twice a week. They celebrated Sabbath and all Jewish holidays at home. I don’t know whether my grandmother followed the kashruth. But there was always traditional Jewish food on holidays stuffed fish, hen with prune, salad with cheese and garlic, bean with onion stuffed fish, and Jewish roast meat, and others. My grandfather and grandmother communicated in Yiddish, but they spoke Russian to their children.
In 1914 my grandfather and 2 older sons (I don’t remember their names) moved to America. My grandmother stayed with their 5 younger children. My grandfather and his sons were planning to get employed in the US and take the rest of their family there. However, WWI and the following revolution destroyed their plans. As it turned out, the family was separated for good. They were to learn to survive. Miron, the oldest of the brothers, was 11 when his father left them. Miron was born in 1903. Faina, born in 1901, was the oldest, then came Lev, born in 1905, my father Avraam, born in 1906 and the youngest among them – Sonia, born in 1907. Miron, being the oldest son, became a craftsman to earn money for the family and later my father joined him to support the family. My father began to play the violin when he was about 5 years old. He played at cinema-theaters. He began to work when he was 11. He worked so for quite a long time. He supported his sisters until they got married. Then his older brother Lyova, the pianist, got employed. Lyova played at the “Continental”, an expensive restaurant, where he was given good tips. By the way, in the late 1930s his brothers sent Lyova an expensive concert piano “Steinway” from America. It was a brand new piano and Lyova finally got it through the customs. The older brothers that moved to America became musicians, too. One played the violoncello and another played the violin. They visited Kiev in 1932. My father never spoke about the life of his brothers in the US. I even don’t know in what town they lived. The only thing I know is that they were happy to be living in the US. They made an impression of well-to-do people. I never asked about any details of their life. My grandfather died in the US in 1925. After the war my parents wrote them every now and then, but my mother was a Communist Party member and she was afraid that this correspondence might be harmful for our family3. And they stopped writing letters. The son of one of the brothers was a colonel in the US Army and took part in WWII. He survived, but I don’t have any information about what happened to them afterwards. Lyova, the pianist, died in 1937. He got flu that resulted in meningitis and he died. Miron made beds – this was his specialty. He was married and had a daughter. I don’t know anything about her. Miron died in 1960s. Faina was married. She didn’t have a profession and made her living by having occasional jobs: doing laundry or cleaning, etc. Faina died in 1950. The youngest sister Sonia was single. She worked as a shop-assistant and died in 1969.
My mother Musia Moiseyevna Krakovskaya was born in Odessa in 1908. Her father Moisey Krakovskiy, born in 1860s was Professor in Odessa University. He died in 1907 before my mother was born. My mother’s family was religious. They celebrated Jewish holidays and Sabbath. My mother remembered how they celebrated Pesah: the whole family got together at the table, my grandfather said a prayer and my grandmother lit the candle and cooked traditional food: stuffed fish, chicken, strudel with raisins and nuts. My grandfather went to the synagogue regularly and prayed.
My grandfather died leaving my grandmother with many children to feed. I don’t know how many children they had in total. I only knew two of them: Ilia, born in 1904 (he lived in Odessa and worked as an electrician. He died in 1950s) and Yelizaveta, born in 1906. She lived in Kiev and was a pharmacist. She died 1960s. I have no information about the other children in the family.
My mother went to Kiev with her Uncle Ilia Dizik (my grandmother’s brother). He lived in Zhdanov Street in Podol. Ilia Dizik was a craftsman. He made hats and weaved shawls. I learned making shawls from him. I can work on the weaving machine. My mother moved to Kiev in the 1920s. She couldn’t stay at her Uncle’s, as he had many children and she went to the children’s home, located in Lukianovka (a neighborhood in Kiev). It was called “Lenin’s town of children”. This was an ordinary Soviet children’s home for homeless children. There were also Jewish children’s homes in Kiev, but I don’t think my mother knew anything about them and went to work at the nearest home. My mother told me that it was a delightful beginning of her social life.
I don’t know the name of my grandmother from Odessa, although she lived with us 4 years after the war. We all, including my mother, called her “Granny”. She was Krachkovskaya after her husband (her nee last name was Dizik). She lived with my mother’s sister, but se couldn’t stay there at that time due to lack of space. I remember my Granny reading all newspapers from the first to the last page. She was very old then. She was born in 1860s and died in 1952.
In the children’s home my mother was an active pioneer and then a Komsomol leader4. I understand social work was some kind of self-assertion for her. My mother learned a profession of a printer after the children’s home and worked in publishing house, before she became a secretary at the Komsomol district and then town committee. She was a propagandist and took an active part in collectivization5. In 1929 my mother became a candidate to the Communist Party and became a member of it in 1930.
She went to the villages to force peasants to join collective farms. She was among those that took away everything these peasants possessed. I know nothing about this period of her life. She never told me anything. She might have whispered some things to my father at night, but I think she believed that what she was doing was right.
I don’t know how my parents met. I know that my father courted her for 2 years. He was a “nobody” for her, just another musician, while she was all full of ides, and a Komsomol member, a bright red-haired girl. She wore a red shawl (typical for Komsomol girls at that time). She often spoke at meetings. My mother was a good speaker; she could hold the audience’s attention for hours and hours. She stayed a firm communist until the end of her days, she never changed. If I was saying something that was different from what she thought she disagreed with me. We did not argue and there was no confrontation. But she never gave up believing that all people had to be together. The slogan “Proletariat all over the world, unite!” was still meaningful for her when she grew old. But it doesn’t mean that she was unambiguously good or bad. She was a wonderful lecturer. She had interesting ideas and she could present them in a very different manner. She lectured on the Russian history of the XVIII-XIX centuries in the university were of great interest. She loved literature and read a lot.
I don’t know how my mother agreed to marry my father. Probably they belonged together. There was no wedding party; my mother’s ideas did not allow her to subdue to such bourgeois vestige. But they registered their marriage to please their politically retrograde relatives. My mother received a room in the communal apartment from the Komsomol town committee. I remember my bed and my parents’ sofa, two stools and a wardrobe in this room. That was all that could fit in there.
Growing up
I was born in August 1931. I remember this room very well. I had it in my dreams during the war. My friend that was involved in the restoration of this building gave me recently a piece of stucco molding from the ceiling. There was beautiful stucco molding by architect Nikolaev in this room.
I clearly remember myself and the surroundings since I was 3 years old. By the way, artist Kostetskiy, a Ukrainian artist, depicted the entrance to our house in his picture “Returning from the front”. There is a soldier and his wife standing in the dark doorway and his child embracing his father’s legs. I remember purple and dark blue walls in the entrance. I have dim memories of our neighbors, but I don’t remember their names. One of them was a kind of a janitor, another was a writer (his wife came from nobility). Their daughter was my friend. After the war she came from Frankfurt, where she lived with her husband and she found me and we met again. All children (Jewish or non-Jewish) living in this building were friends. There was a big kitchen in our apartment and after the women retired to their rooms in the evening we, kids, played our games there. In 1937 quite a few tenants of this apartment, as well as of many other apartments, disappeared6.
My mother worked from morning till night. I had a nanny. She was a very nice Ukrainian girl. Her name was Galia. She came from a village near Kiev. I have very good memories of her. Later I went to a kindergarten and Galia left us and got married. During the war she and her little daughter were taken to Germany. Her husband perished on the front. After the war Galia and her daughter came back. Galia was very ill and exhausted and she died soon. My mother took care of her daughter. She helped her to enter the topography college. She lived in the hostel and often visited us. She got educated, got married and moved to another town. Poor girl, but we did what we could to help her.
In 1932 my mother left her Party activities and entered the Kiev State University, on history faculty. I believe this saved her life during repression of 1937. She was not a public person any more, perhaps, that was why they didn’t touch her. She graduated in 1939 and was offered a job at the University. She was a secretary of the Party bureau of the department and then the University. I don’t know how she survived in this meat grinding machine. 1937 touched me, too. I was 6 years old when I was interrogated at the KGB (State Security Committee) office. They asked me who visited us and what we discussed at home. My mother was sitting behind the door. The interrogation lasted 6 hours in a row. You can imagine how my mother was feeling all this time. My mother never told me that anything like this might happen, so I was not prepared. But they probably didn’t hear anything suspicious in my prattle and they left us alone. I went to the kindergarten at that time and recited poems about Lenin to them.
Each morning my mother took me to the kindergarten located near St. Andrew’ church. I saw the blasting of the Mikhailovskiy cathedral7 and people taking away remnants of the ancient brickwork. Every morning and evening we walked past the ruins of Mikhailovskiy cathedral (it is called the “Golden cupola” cathedral now). All these events resulted in a nervous breakdown. Every night in 3 years I had a dream that I was execute by shooting and the gun was installed on the building of the Central Committee and the bullet hit me. I woke up crying and was afraid to go back to sleep. I remember the kindergarten. I was making the Kremlin from wooden parts. It was big: from one wall to another. We have a picture of this structure.
I found out that I was a Jew in 1937. Hitler was in power in Germany and my parents often discussed his horrible attitude towards Jewish people. I don’t know how they knew it. There was not a word in this regard in the Soviet mass media. I felt my Jewish identity in the evacuation. There was no anti-Semitism in kindergarten or school. My parents often spoke Yiddish, but I didn’t understand a word of it. I wasn’t inquisitive. I just felt awkward at such moments, as if I was eavesdropping.
My father didn’t share my mother’s political ideas. He wasn’t a Party member. He was against all this way of life. He was doing his job. He was a musician and also a wonderful violin-maker. The best masters could leave their Stradivarius, Gvarneri and Galliano instruments in his care. I could sit in his shop located across the street from the Opera House for hours and hours. My friendship with my father was a friendship between two men when no words were needed. We were very close. I learned about music from him. Although I never became a musician I know about music, that’s for sure.
In 1938 I went to school. It was school # 13, an ordinary Russian school, located in Vladimirskaya Street in the very center of Kiev. This school was there before the revolution and when I came to study there were few teachers that had worked in this school since the pre-revolutionary time. There were children of high Party officials in our school. I didn’t enjoy studying and was a poor student at school. I became a pioneer at school. I can’t remember this event in detail. I was not eager to become a pioneer, but it was necessary to do so to avoid any complications in my mother’s career or my future life. There were not many Jewish children in my form, but there were more of them in another form. I didn’t have friends among my classmates but we all got along very well. We went fishing, or played football together.
When I was about 6 years old I began to draw. Before the war I attended a drawing club at the Palace of sports. I am not trying to say that I was very talented. After we returned from the evacuation my mother went to the archives at the Palace of Sports to take out my pre-war drawings. I looked at them from the height of my 13 or 14 years of age. They were bad drawings.
My father took few attempts to teach me music but he didn’t take it seriously. My parents took me to an oboist and he explained to them that my lips were not quite fit and I had a wrong bite, etc. I couldn’t play the piano because I was left-handed that was even more inappropriate for the violin. I loved music and tried to learn to play the piano for almost a year.
During the war
I remember well 21 June 19418, the day when the war began. Our family was in Sochi [the most popular Soviet resort at the Black Sea, Caucasus] Or, I would say, the orchestra where my father was playing was on tour there and my mother and I were following them. It was almost every summer that we did so. My mother was a post-graduate student in Kiev University. She was specializing in the history of the USSR. I went to the Riviera on this day. We were staying on top of a mountain and I took a trolley-bus down the hill. When I was on the way I saw many planes in the air, they were all flying in a line. And almost at the same moment a terrible storm, a fantastically horrific storm began in the sea. Never again in my life did I see anything like this. There was a lighthouse quite at a distance from the seashore. Now the sea receded far beyond it, stripping the pier to the pebbly bottom. And then another wave surge and the embankment was covered with water again. The waves broke in about 100 meters from the lighthouse. One of local people told us that according to the legends such storms only occur before a war. We didn’t know then that Kiev had already been bombed. Sochi hadn’t heard Molotov’s9 speech yet.
All musicians in the orchestra were from Kiev. They all returned to Kiev. I still cannot understand why they came back; I don’t think they could explain why they were going back. It was quite easy to go in any direction from Sochi and they could have left elsewhere. My father was ill at that time. He had severe psoriasis. His whole body was covered with those terrible sores. He could only be transported the train wrapped in a sheet and on the stretcher. His condition began to improve when he and my mother were on a barge on the way to the evacuation destination point. My father started getting better when the bombing began. If it hadn’t been for the psoriasis my father might have been sent to the front. I don’t know. But I hope, not.
We arrived in Kiev two weeks after the beginning of the war. It must have been in July. My mother was on the lists of the town Party committee which meant that she could leave only at the permission of this committee. She was not the only Jew that the authorities wanted to stay in Kiev. My mother and everybody else knew what waited for them when Germans came. My father couldn’t leave either due to his illness. They had to take me out of Kiev by all means. I left by train with my mother’s closest friend Zhenia Ostrovskaya, a Jew. She was like a second mother to me. She was a big Party official. In the early 1930s she was a 2nd secretary of the town committee for propaganda. Later she was secretary of the Komsomol Central Committee. But this was all before 1932. Then she got educational at the mechanical department of Kiev Polytechnic Institute and went to work as an engineer at the biggest military plant “Arsenal” in Ukraine. The plant was evacuated along with all equipment, personnel and their families. Zhenia was single. She officially adopted me and took me to Votkinsk. I remember my mother seeing me off and putting me on a truck. She was running after the truck and I was standing on it and looking at her knowing that she was staying. When my parents understood that they had to leave Kiev there was one last barge left. The Art Museum was sending its values on this barge. Sailing was the only way left, as Kiev was encircled by Germans. They were sailing down the Dnieper on this barge that was bombed. But my father began to recover at that time. I already mentioned it. They reached Dnepropetrovsk and proceeded to Ufa. They knew that “Arsenal” plant was evacuated to the east but they didn’t know where exactly (it was a military plant and there was no information about it). In Ufa they incidentally met an acquaintance at the post office. She worked at the plant and she told them where we were. I was in the summer pioneer camp in Votkinsk (Zhenia sent me there). I didn’t know that my parents were in Ufa until my term was over. The buses with children were approaching the bus station in Votkinsk when I saw my mother’s red hair. This was the happiest moment in my life.
I left Kiev with little luggage. I had no winter clothes and was wearing a woman’s flannel coat that I received at school in Votkinsk throughout the whole winter, at minus 40 degrees. I went skiing in it as well. What a terrible memory – to be wearing a girl’s coat! But that was all I had. I have few memories of my school. Boys and I went skiing or made a snow blindage, played snowballs. We had hardly any food. I had scurvy. My mother bought an onion on her last money to help me a little. I had black teeth and inflamed gums. My teeth never recovered since then.
I heard the words “Babiy Yar”10 in Votkinsk in September 1941 for the first time. A newspaper wrote that 60 thousand Jews were exterminated in the Babiy Yar. When I was trying to tell my friends at school about this my teacher (she was a Jew) told me to keep it to myself. I asked her why. And she said “They may laugh…”
The population in Votkinsk treated the evacuated people with calm and kindness. There were many children. There were children from Leningrad. The attitude towards them was special because everybody knew that Leningrad was literally dying from starvation, illnesses and cold weather. I had a friend there, Tania, a Russian girl from Leningrad. She was a very beautiful girl. There were always beautiful girls around me.
Zhenia, my mother and father worked at the “Arsenal” plant in Votkinsk. My mother worked at the Party bureau and my father was a locksmith. Then at some time my father was ordered to go to Stalinabad (Dushanbe at present) to join an orchestra. We were to get ready within two weeks. And again we were on the train and on the way. In Perm my father was beaten by young recruits. There was no specific reason, but I know why it happened. They were drunk and they were going to die at this war and we were staying in the rear. I cannot blame them. But I cannot forget this fear. It was fearful: they were beating a man and he couldn’t fight back and he didn’t do anything to raise their anger. Besides, I felt sorry for my father and for those guys that were to leave. They had their picture of it: Jews pulling their suitcases on the way to evacuation when they had to go to the war. Terrible. Night, Perm, street lights…
In Stalinabad we got accommodated at school. It took director Braginskiy two months to put the orchestra together. My father’s hands were bleeding until his violin corns that disappeared while he was working at the plant grew back. Same with all other musicians. Their rehearsals began after two months. We were living at the gymnasium and the rehearsals were held there, too. They were playing Symphony 4 of Chaikovskiy. I still remember it by heart as well as the parts of all instruments. They played this symphony at their first concert. The majority of musicians were Jews. Russian musicians played mainly horns and French horns, etc. – brass instruments. I cannot remember any problems associated with the nationality in this orchestra. There was a wonderful man Misha Yampolskiy, a Jew. He was inspector of the orchestra and secretary of the Party Bureau. The orchestra was self-governed and its leaders were smart people that didn’t allow any anti-Semitic demonstrations. In 1943 my mother went to work at the Party office of the Railroad.
That same year the orchestra moved to Vladikavkaz. The best concert that I have ever heard in my life was the concert dedicated to the liberation of Kiev. It took place in Vladikavkaz. Musicians and their families were living at the storage facility of the central hotel. All musicians got together and played all night through. People danced on the tables because there was no space on the floor. This wasn’t a big room, but there were about 100 people in it. This celebration lasted until morning but nobody bothered us. They all knew that we were celebrating the liberation of our home town.
There were direct anti-Semitic demonstrations in Vladikavkaz in 1943-44. I never started fighting but I heard enough of the word “zhyd” and its derivatives.
There is also one horrible memory from Vladikavkaz. I had friends that were Chechen and Ingush children at school. I shared my desk with an Ingush boy. One night many vehicles full of soldiers crossed Vladikavkaz. There head lights were off. Nobody knew what was happening. In the morning my Ingush friend came and gave me his poniard, the most valuable possession that he had. He said he was leaving. I asked him where and then he told me. Soldiers went to the mountains to move the population, find those that were hiding and shoot the resisting ones. They moved all Chechen and Ingush people within 3-4 days11. I never saw them again. Nobody ever talked about what happened. I kept silent, too. The following week there was silence in the class. There was only half of schoolchildren left in class.
There was another time when I witnessed deportation of people. It was “clean-up” of the Crimea from the Tatars that populated the Crimea. In 1945 I spent two terms in Artek, the main pioneer camp in the USSR. I went there on 15 May and returned home by 1 September. The camp was celebrating its 20th anniversary. There were festive celebrations; even some government representatives from Moscow were present. We went to pick up apples in a Tatar village. The Tatar people had been recently deported and the villages were absolutely empty. Everything, all their possessions were in place. Nobody took anything with them. The Tatar families were thrown out of their houses and into the barred vehicles. The only man left there was an elderly man, a janitor. He knew that we were from the Artek. We could do or take what we wanted. It was an empty village, with nobody around. It was empty and strange. It was terrifying. There was a tree on the main square with many ribbons on its branches. It’s a Tatar tradition to put little ribbons on the branches on a holiday. I will never forget this. One can never forget such things.
My two most terrifying memories are of 1944-45. The first of them (1944) was horrible. There was a counterattack of Germans near Zhytomir and they bombed Darnitsa in the outskirts of Kiev. In the morning there was a rumor at school that Germans bombed a train with food and tinned meat. Our whole class ran to that site hoping to find some food. But this was not a food train. It was a hospital. It was bombed to ashes. Arms, legs, heads, blood… I saw it all. The second horrible sight was when all school children went to watch execution of German captives in Kreschatik. It was happening as if mechanically, no sounds were heard. They were hung and they twisted and that was all. The crowd ran to the gallows to pull the boots off the hanging people. Those were good boots… This was the most horrifying. Since then I’ve been afraid of crowds. No, it’s not even fear, but disgust.
In February 1944 we returned to Kiev. Kreschatik12 was in ruins. Proreznaya Street was all in heaps of broken and burnt bricks. We lived in the Philharmonic building at the beginning. Later we received a room at the communal apartment. All our neighbors were musicians and almost all of them were Jews. A violinist lived in one room and a flutist in another, a trombonist and a violoncellist occupied two other rooms, there was a French horn player and another violoncellist. They went to the Philharmonic in the morning and from about 3pm they rehearsed at home. In the evening they went to a concert. Oistrach, Kogan and other famous violinists that came on tours have been in this apartment. I remember Rostropovich and all conductors that came here after they arrived in Kiev.
After the war
I studied at school. There were few Jews in my class. There were also Jewish teachers, but just few of them. Anti-Semitism was very strong in the post-war Kiev. However, I didn’t feel it.
I became a Komsomol member one year later than the other children in my class. I had never been an active pioneer and avoided social activities. While the others were involved in the subbotniks and voskresniks13, cleaning up the school or the yard, I was playing football. I was reprimanded for it officially at the meetings. And the Komsomol activists postponed my admission to Komsomol. I wasn’t eager to become a Komsomol member but it was necessary to be no different from everybody else. Besides, if one wasn’t a Komsomol member, it made things more difficult at school and it was more difficult to enter an Institute.
In 1946 famine began. There was no food in stores. There were food cards, but to get some products in exchange for these cards one had to come and stand in line in the middle of the night and spend there a whole day. Everybody in line got his number that was written on the palm. In our house two women starved to death. When I was going to school their bodies were lying on the threshold.
People were returning to Kiev from evacuation. Many came to my mother to obtain a recommendation, to resume their membership in the Party or just to receive a place to live. Of all old communists only my mother was left. After I returned to Kiev in 1945 I went to the Babiy Yar. 4 of my father’s distant relatives and my mother’s cousin Efim (the son of her Uncle Dizik, with who she lived when she was a child) were exterminated there. At that time it was a decayed weeded area. Afterwards I attended lectures of Ilia Erenburg, a writer14, when he visited Kiev. He described the Babiy Yar in every detail. After hearing his story I went there again, to take as look at this place.
I didn’t draw during the war. I didn’t draw for a long time. The first drawing was a surprise to me. This was in the 8th form, in winter. I came home, it was dark and there was no light on. I opened the door to the room and saw my Granny standing by the window against the frozen pattern of the glass. She looked so lonely. Everything was dark blue: the frozen patterns on the glass, the window and my grandmother. I rushed to get my brushes and paints and made a painting. Later I was looking at this painting and it became a revelation to me. I understood then that it was my cup of tea.
In 1949 struggle against “cosmopolites” began. My mother lost her job at the University as well as many of her friends and our acquaintances. My mother understood that it was done to get rid of Jews at the University but against any logic she didn’t think it was anti-Semitism. I finished school that year. My mother wanted me to become an architect. She was trying to bring me up in this direction. I never learned to paint professionally. I just painted something but it was so non-professional. So I went to the preparatory course to Kiev Engineering and Construction Institute. I started in April and entrance exams were in August. I made 5000 drawings between April and August. My teacher showed my drawings at the exam to demonstrate what a person could achieve in 4 months. People from Surikov Art school and from Kiev Art School were taking entrance exams there, but there were only two “5” grades. I got one of these two. And so I entered the Institute. However, this was quite an effort. I was drawing constantly. I always had a pencil, a sketch-book and paints with me. I liked it. There was a lot of competition. Competition between 9 times more entrants than the admission rate and 11 exams. It’s hard to imagine. I don’t think the nationality was as significant as some time later. Quite a few Jews entered. There were 10 Jews of 50 students at my course.
I had friends at the institute. I have friends now. But I have never had or will have such friends as my mother did – the ones that went through life with her. She had 4 friends from the University and they were together until she died.
I remember the “Kremlin doctors’ case”15 in 1953. I still cannot understand. I was just a boy, but I understood the absurdity of charges against them, so how could adults take them seriously? But this was the reality. I remember a middle age man in the polyclinic. He had a swollen cheek and evidently was suffering from toothache, but he was asking the receptionist what the nationality of the dentist was. But there were other consequences, resulting from the doctors’ case. There were talks among Jewish people (and they must have had grounds) that all Jews would be forced to move to Birobijan16, the Jewish autonomous region. I remembered deportation of the Chechen and Ingush people. I had a vision of an empty village. That’s why I think there were grounds for such talks. Stalin’s death in 1953 put an end to this. Stalin’s death stirred no emotions in me. I guess it was the influence of my father. His attitude towards Stalin was critical, but my mother took his death as her personal grief.
I finished Institute in 1955. I had job offers from the Academy of architecture and “Kievproject”. They knew me there, I was even awarded a bonus at the contest there, but my job assignment was in Ashghabad, destroyed by an earthquake then. It was a hard blow for me. It might be that this case had nothing to do with my nationality. Just before graduation I had a big argument with the secretary of the Party bureau. But still, almost all Jews from my course happened to get their job assignments in Ashghabad. And there were so many requests to provide architects in Kiev.
In Ashghabad I worked at a design office for a year. The town was to be restored from the ruins. I lived in a hostel, but then I left for Kiev. I just ran away. I had to do it, because I might have lost the right to live in Kiev.
I came back to my parents in Kiev and got employed by a small design office involved in construction. I worked there 8 years. There were interesting people there but my work was dull. My work was related to communal architecture: public utilities service centers, plants, etc. Even if there was an interesting facility to be designed I couldn’t do it well due to poor funding that I had to be based on. There were many Jews in this office. I think there were more Jews in smaller companies because they were not employed by big design institutes.
In 1960 I married Ella Yakovlevna, a Jewish woman. I don’t usually remember names; therefore, I can’t tell you her nee name. Ella was 7 years younger than I. We didn’t have a place to live. Thus, she lived with her parents and I was living with mine. Later I moved to her parents’ place. Her parents helped us to buy a 3-room apartment. It cost 6 thousand rubles. This was a lot of money at that time. The two of us earned about 250 rubles per month. It was a beautiful, fabulous for its time apartment. Ella was a literature specialist. She knew English well and tried to translate fiction into Russian. Unfortunately, she wasn’t doing well. I don’t know, perhaps she didn’t have enough patience, or wasn’t quite fond of what she was doing or there were other reasons. In 1965 our daughter Elena was born. But our marriage wasn’t a success and even our daughter couldn’t help us grow closer to one another. I believe that marriage is not just love; it is a union of two people responsible for one another. They have to help and take care of each other. Otherwise separation becomes inevitable. We got divorced. Our daughter was 12 at that moment. I asked her who she wanted to stay with. She said “You know that I would like to stay with you, but my mother needs me. She is my mother, you know”. My daughter and I didn’t see each other until she turned 17, her mother didn’t allow her to see me and I couldn’t find an opportunity to meet with her. Only when she grew older she came to see me without asking her mother permission to do so. Elena is in Israel now. She is a teacher. She got married and left in 1991. She always wanted to get out of here.
I don’t feel like talking about my first wife. But I was very fond of my mother-in-law. She was a wonderful woman. She was a leather chemist and worked at the tannery in Kiev. She was a great personality! She was so knowing and understanding. A Jewish woman, very fat and unhappy, but she was a fighter and she was human. She was my friend. Her death in 1964 was a huge loss for me.
In 1964 I was offered a job at Kievproject, the biggest design institute in Kiev. I was immediately involved in the development of 1967 Kiev General Construction Plan. It was interesting. I accepted this job offer to understand the essence of a city or a town. And such understanding came to me. I retied from this work on 1 January 2001.
In the early 1960s we, a group of architects from the Kievproject, started the development of a park in the Babiy Yar. I struggled against this blasphemy. At that time I was working at the Kiev General Plan Headquarters. But then there happened an emergency situation: mudflow down the slopes of the Babiy Yar. It happened on 13 March 1961. My mother-in-law was there when it happened. She was going to work by tram, but it stopped before this mudflow. So she was safe. She explained to me the engineering background of this disaster. She showed me her files, her letters to the authorities about what had to be done to prevent the emergency. The authorities ignored her appeals. What happened there was a mere engineering fault and error. I was there, in the Babiy Yar, in 1961. What a terrible sight. I had seen mudflows before, but they were far from populated areas. But victims and deaths in the city… People were saying that the Babiy Yar war victims were reminding the living that it would never do to arrange park alleys on their bones. That was how the Babiy Yar became a closer subject to me.
Architect Steinberg, a friend of mine, was involved in the bidding process for the design of a monument to those that were exterminated in the Babiy Yar. He offered me to join his proposal group, consisting of two architects and two sculptors. I agreed. Our group developed 5 drafts of the monument. It was a challenging and hard work lasting 5 months. We spent all our own money paying for the materials, but nobody was awarded this project. The launched the second round of the bid. We were all in debts and just couldn’t afford to fail this next time. Our second draft was different from the first one. The 1st one was a reminder of the tragedy, but the 2nd one was not so revealing. And we won the second round. But our monument was not installed. The authorities announced the third round that was closed and we were not in it. I don’t know why they wanted to deal with this subject at all after so many years of oblivion. I believe it was because they wanted to give its due to the world community. Undoubtedly speeches of writers and poets famous in our country and abroad also played their role. Basically, they had to react in some way.
Nevertheless, that first bid changed me significantly. I was a young man and had no strong viewpoints before. I was too immature to become a different person. I wasn’t yet the personality I am now. I am not ashamed of taking part in that first bid.
For the second time I made a draft design of the monument in the Babiy Yar in 1991. The design was approved and I got to work. Our position was to install the monument at some distance from the graves, on the edge of the ravine rather that in the middle of it. I think a monument must not be installed on a grave itself. A monument is a symbol.
I was dying in this Babiy Yar all this time that I was working on the monument. How can one think of whose relatives or family died there? We were dying there. Working on the Babiy Yar monument was like going through an execution every day. But gradually work was advancing and reaching its outlines.
In 1977 I got married for the second time. My wife’s name is Galina Andreyevna. She is an economist and works in this same Headquarters. She is Ukrainian. We’ve been together for 24 years. I am happy. We have two sons. Andrei, the older, was born in 1978, and Evgeniy was born in 1984. My older son is fond of history and writes poems. He is Master of Theoretical Cybernetics and Mathematician. He is a very nice young man. He is single. He loves literature and reads a lot. He also loves theater and classical music. He also likes jazz music. I do, too. He is a post-graduate student at Paris University. He won a students’ exchange grant with no support on my part. He takes after me. Our younger son left us abruptly. He has to come to his own understanding of things. Evgeniy studies at Solomon University17. He is a first year student at the department of computer sciences. He finished school last year. He is a poor student. He doesn’t feel like studying. Well, what can one do? He must come to it on his own. My sons are children of two nationalities. Evgeniy identifies himself as a Jew. He attends Gilel, a young people asociation at the Hesed, takes part in cheder and attends their seminars. Andrei is a man of the world, atheist and cosmopolite.
My father died in 1977. It was a sudden death. He didn’t live long enough to see his grandsons. My mother lived 17 years longer. In 1958 my mother went back to the University to lecture on history. My mother was a very responsible person. After her retirement she organized a library in the basement of this building with no support from aside. There was a team of people working with her. She was director of this library until it was closed. When my mother died in 1994 many people came to the funeral. They were her real friends. They were of different ages and came from different towns. I cannot say that she was good or bad. She was like anybody else.
Nationality has never been of any importance to me. Never. A human being, a personality and his outlooks – that’s what is important. My friends are my friends regardless of their nationally. Russian, Ukrainian, Jews – people, they are just my friends.
After 1991 I had to take to religious issue, the issues, related to placement of cult structures. I had to provide assistance to all confessions: Judaist sects, Ukrainian and Christian religious communities, Catholics, Greek Catholics and Protestants. They came to discuss their issues with me and I even published an article in a newspaper with the information that I was dealing with such issues, so that they knew where to go.
I came to Judaism after the Babiy Yar, after my work on the monument and Menorah. I tried to glue together this crack in my soul but I failed. Then a friend of mine asked me to help with the repairs of the Brodsky central synagogue. I went to the synagogue (I was taken there, as my leg was broken at the time and I had to stay in bed). They showed me their documentation and I gave them some advice on what could be done and made some sketches. This used to be the central synagogue in Kiev before the revolution, the biggest in the city and very beautiful. Later the Bolsheviks took away this building (as well as 300 other synagogues) and it housed the Puppet Theater. In 1996 the authorities returned this building to the Jewish community. The building was severely damaged. The inner walls were destroyed and its rear wall began to slide away from the front wall, because there was nothing to keep these two walls together. I drew the chart for them to keep this building together. I felt happy. This was my road to the temple.
Nowadays I go to the synagogue almost every day. I am always busy doing something there: a partial or a cabinet, etc. Thank God I can do this now! I am 71 years old. Did I believe in God when I was young? Yes, I did. Regardless of my mother being a communist. How can I explain how this could happen? I don’t know? Can one say what creativity or inspiration is about? I don’t think so. Or what happiness is. If you feel this happiness from being somewhere and can arrange it so that you can share this happiness with another individual it means that you’ve been led by God.
I am a Jew. We, Jews, must serve our Lord. Why are we here? Our Lord has sent us here. He is the one and only God in the world. I feel good about being aware of it. I have always known that there is only one God.
I spent 2 weeks in Israel recently. We traveled all around Israel (its holy places) one week and then I spent the next week with my daughter. They are great people and it is a great country. I admired them. However, I wouldn’t want to move to Israel. If I moved there I would have to become an orthodox believer and defend this faith, I am convinced it would have to be so, although I can’t explain why. I can’t do it. From the spiritual point I must belong to the Judaism completely. But I am a cosmopolite. I’ve traveled a lot around the word since 1991, I’ve been to France, England, Netherlands, Austria, Egypt, Japan, Korea. I admire any culture, pieces of art, etc. I can’t focus on one culture. It’s too late.
I have lived quite a life. I’ve been involved in the construction of the city. People have built their town throughout centuries. Builders express themselves, their life and their time, reflecting everything in their creativity.
I still have a lot to do in the Brodskiy synagogue. However, my plans are based on the sponsorship and funding. If we get funding we shall be able to do a lot, because it is not a museum, this is concentration of the idea. One can just look at things in a museum. But when one can take an XVII century brass Hanukkah in his hands one shall feel a bond of generations. It gives you the feeling that a master made this Hanukkah so long ago and you are holding it now and it breathes in your hands. One cannot create culture for today. Culture is for eternity.
Glossary
1 Podol - was always considered and is presently considered Jewish neighborhood in Kiev. Before the war there was 90% of Jewish population there.
2 In the Tsarist Russia the Jewish population was allowed to live at certain areas. In Kiev Jews were allowed to live in Podol, the lower and poorer part of the city.
3 The authorities could arrest an individual corresponding with his relatives abroad and charge him with espionage, send to concentration camp or even sentence to death.
4 Komsomol – the Communistic youth organization, created by the Communist Party, so that the state would be in control of the ideological upbringing and spiritual development of the youth almost until the age of 30.
5 COLLECTIVIZATION of agriculture in the USSR had to do with mass establishment of collective farms in the late 1920s - early 1930s that meant liquidation of private farms. It was a forceful process. Many peasants were repressed. It resulted in significant reduction of farmers and agricultural production and famine of 1932-33 in Ukraine, Northern Caucasus, Volga and other regions.
6 In the mid-1930s Stalin launched a major campaign of political terror. The purges, arrests, and deportations to labor camps touched virtually every family. Former rivals Zinovyev, Kamenev, and Bukharin admitted to crimes against the state in show trials and were sentenced to death. Untold numbers of party, industrial, and military leaders disappeared during the “Great Terror”. Indeed, between 1934 and 1938 two-thirds of the members of the 1934 Central Committee were sentenced and executed. More than half of the high-ranking army officers were purged between 1936 and 1938.
7 The biggest Christian temple in Ukraine. It was destroyed by Bolsheviks in 1936 and restored 65 yeas later in 2000.
8 22 June 1941 at 5 o’clock in the morning the fascist Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring a war. On this day the Great patriotic War began.
9 MOLOTOV (Skriabin) Viacheslav Mikhailovich (1890-1986) , a Soviet political leader During the October revolution he was a member of the Military Revolutionary Committee. In 1939-49 & 1953-56 he was Minister of Foreign Affairs of the USSR. Member of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1921-57. Member of Presidium of the central Committee of the CPSU in 1926-57. He was belonged to the closest political surrounding of I.V. Stalin; one of the most active organizers of repression in the 1930s - early 1950s. He spoke against criticism of the cult of Stalin in mid 1950s.
10 Babiy Yar is the site of the first mass shootings of the Jewish population that was done in the open by the fascists on September 29-30, 1941, in Kiev.
11 Stalin’s policy, forced deportation of the Middle Asia people to Siberia. People were thrown out of their houses and into vehicles at night. They were caught unawares. The majority of them died on the way from starvation, cold and illnesses.
12 Kreschatik is the main street of Kiev.
13 Subbotniks, voskresniks - Obligatory forced and not paid work at the weekend (Saturday and Sunday). People with pleasure came to work "for the good of their Native land"
14 ERENBURG Ilia Grigorievich (1891-1967) , a famous Russian writer, columnist, a Jew. His adventure novels show the philosophic and satirical panorama of life in Europe and Russia in 1910-20s. He wrote books of memoirs with many facts, events and names from the history of our country and European culture and public life in the 20th century that had never been mentioned previously.
15 «Doctors’ Case» – was a set of accusations deliberately forged by Stalin’s government and KGB against Jewish doctors of the Kremlin hospital charging them with murdering outstanding Bolsheviks. The «Case» was started in 1952, but was never finished in March 1953 after Stalin’s death.
16 In 1930s Stalin’s government established a Jewish autonomous region in Birobidjan, in the desert with terrible climate in the Far East of Russia. The conditions were unlivable there. There was no water, power supply, houses or transportation. The Soviet government hoped that educated people would populate this area and make it a civilized republic. People were in no hurry to leave their jobs and homes and the comforts of living in towns and move to the middle of nowhere. The Soviet government set the term of forced deportation of all Jews to Birobidjan in the middle of the 1950s. But in 1953 Stalin died and the deportation was cancelled.
17 Jewish University in Kiev, established in 1995.
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