Newspaper Page Text
tation. Give him opening, he
told himself, ‘‘What’s the boy’s
<tory?
Breitman settled back happily in
his chair to tell it.
* * *
You must understand (Breitman
started his tale) that most of us
here — in one way or another —
have been what you call ‘rehabi
litated.’ We have made new lives
out of the broken pieces of the
old.
Our baker is a good example.
You will meet him later. He was
the village baker in a Polish
shtetl. When the Nazis overran
the area he and his son were
sent to the mines in Silecia. His
wife and daughter . . . they were
never seen again.
Reb Nachum — that’s our bak
er — and his son David, by a
miracle stayed together. They
worked together, protected each,
and, after weary months, man
aged to escape together. They kept
to the woods by day and headed
south by nights. Finally, in the
border area of Czechoslovakia,
they stumbled into one of the
small groups of the 'forest under
ground.’
They lived through the rest of
the war with the group. In the
last days of the Nazi retreat the
little band made contact with an
American patrol. In a few weeks
they were a part of the ragged
throng in a DP camp in Austria.
There life began again. Especially
for David, who fell in love and
soon married Miriam, a girl who
was the only survivor of a family
from the Vilna area.
The new life was not a rich
one. It was a crowded, meager
existence. But there was a belief
that they were just marking time
until arrangements could be made
to sort out family survivors and
send groups on to Palestine. Not
back to the bitter memories of
Eastern Europe, but Palestine. As
the teams of JDC workers arrived
to help in the regeneration of the
remnant of a people, the unceas
ing question met them — "When
can we go to Eretz Israel?”
The British made the explana
tions of why they must bar the
bulk of Jewish refugees from Pal
estine. The other Allied govern-
ments kept to the same
official position. But as the
months stretched into a year and
more, a great movement surged
through the camps. Many of the
American officials closed their eyes
to the seeping away of scores,
then hundreds, then thousands who
streamed into ‘illegal’ routes lead
ing to European ports and possi
bly to Palestine.
Reb Nachum and David joined
the desperate trek. They got as
far as Marseilles. There they wait
ed for months for a chance to
board one of the ramshackle ‘illeg
al’ immigrant ships ,
At this point, a new tragedy
began. David became ill. From
what I can gather, he had suffered
from rheumatic fever as a child
and now the strain on his heart
The Southern Israelite
took his toll. Instead of boarding
a ship, Reb Nachum and Miriam
went to live at a JDC medical
center where David was sent.
More months dragged by. Miriam
worked in the center and Reb
Nachum spent most of his time
with a few’ cronies who gathered
together in a makeshift shul where
he again could demonstrate his
Torah learning. He also conducted
an active correspondence with a
landsman who he had discovered
was living in Palestine.
Then came the electrifying e-
vents of 1948. The State of Israel
was born and won its fight for
freedom. Even David seemed to
improve as the great hope of life
in Israel became a reality for
jublilant thousands of DP’s.
It took a couple of years be
fore David was w’ell enough to be
removed from the roll of ‘hard
core’ cases who could not emigrate.
Reb Nachum engaged in feverish
correspondence with his landsman
and soon announced triumphantly
that everything was arranged.
They would join the kibbutz of
Kfar Avodah.
The new blow fell in 1951, a
few days before the little family
was to embark for Haifa. David’s
heart suddenly gave out.
It took a day of pleading by
Miriam to get Reb Nachum to
board the ship, ‘I’m carrying
David’s son,’ she repeated over
and over. ‘He must be born in
Israel. You must come with us.’
Reb Nachum w’ent. But he was
a different man. Silent, morose.
They got to Kfar Avodad just be
fore Rosh Hashonah. As the High
Holy Days opening service began,
Avrahm, the landsman had to
carry Reb Nachum into one of
the two-room housing units which
had been converted into a prayer
room. ‘God w’ould not permit my
son to enter Eretz Israel,’ Reb
Nachum said bitterly. 'I do not
w’ish to enter His house.’ He sat
with clamped lips all through the
service.
.Again, through the Yom Kippur
services, Reb Nachum sat in a
stolid, trancelike silence. Avrahm
placed a yarmalke on his friend’s
head and draped a tabs over his
rigid shoulders. Just at Sun-dowm,
as the service was about to close,
a commotion outside drew Avra-
hm’s eyes to the window. Miriam
w’as being rushed into the infirmary
directly across the road. An in
spiration came to him.
The signal came to him to blow’
the shofar. Instead, he took the
Ram’s Horn and placed it in Reb
Nachum’s hands. ‘This is your
privilege,’ he told his friend. ‘Blow,
Nachum; he pleaded, ‘blow as you
used to at home. Sound the end
of the year’s sorrow. Announce
the beginning of a joyous year
ahead.’
Reb Nachum was unyielding.
'The shofar, the shofar, blow it!’
The entire gathering joined in the
plea.
Reb Nachum sat like stone.
Nachum’, urged Arahm. ‘Your
grandchild is about to be born.
JUDSON
MILLS
Manufacturers of
FINK COTTON ANI)
SYNTHETIC FABRICS
•
GREENVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA
•
Selling Agents
DEERING, MILLIKEN & CO., Inc.
240 Church Street New York, N. Y.
Blue 1
{idge Trucking Co.
Office & Terminal
Simpson Street
Koon Development
ASHEVILLE, NORTH CAROLINA
53