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BAKER MAYFIELD CO.
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IN
THE
AFTERMATH
By Samuel Kreiter
(A Seven Arts Feature)
In the El A1 special lounge
of Kennedy Airport I clinked
cocktails with a journalist, a
rabbi from Queens, Midwest
ern UJA leaders, a U.S. Sen
ator and his Jewish press
secretary. Senator Birch Bayh
(D. Indiana) undertook a 6-day
study mission for his U.S. Sen
ate Foreign Relations Sub
Committee to . . . “assess pros
pects for a viable solution of
the Arab refugee problem,
Israel’s goals and intentions,
and to find out how the United
States can help”. . . Throughout
the flight his secretary studied
Ivrit from a textbook and test
ed his “knowledge” with the
plane stewards.
Upon arrival at Lydda air
port (July 5) our sleepy pass
engers went off in different di
rections. In the evening I
walked the streets of Tel Aviv
swarming with people. The
blitz War of Redemption was
behind them. Some faces still
reflected memories of recent
anxieties. Here and there a
soldier in camouflage battle
dress strolled holding a girl’s
arm. Where Ben Jehuda Street
spills into Allenby Road
through a wide arch, dense
crowds flowed on both sides
fringing noisy vehicular move
ments. A cool breeze fanned
the night, and combed the
trees.
Kirka Dizengoff (Dizengoff
Circle) featured a book fair,
beleaguered by buyers and
browsers. Dizengoff and inter
secting alleys up to Rehov
Jabotinsky are honeycombed
with cafes. Youngsters over
whelmed stalls and storefronts
doling out frozen sweets, bot
tled drinks, and hamburgers. A
pile of sandbags still concealed
the facade of the police station.
A Jordanian shell fell in front,
of no 5 Rehov Reich, and hit
an electric pylon, another dam
aged an apartment building on
Rehov Frishman. Snakeshaped
trenches were dug in front of
some Government buildings,
ORT schools, and large apart
ment houses. “Thank God”, a
passerby exclaimed, “ we did
not have to use them!”
The ZOA House in Tel Aviv,
once a tourist landmark, look
ed drab and neglected. That
evening a slap-dash Yiddish
troupe offered a comical yarn
named “A Galitzianer fun
Mexico.” Joseph Bulov coun
teracted elsewhere with a
melange of skits, monologues
and impersonations.
By courtesy of Histadrut we
drove out to Jerusalem, united
after 1897 years, when our
forefathers lost it to the Roman
Legions under Titus. Speeding
along the Jaffa Road we saw
old houses crumbled,-heaps of
rock and rubble. Building work
is going on everywhere. We
traveled on wide new road
ways. In the distance we saw
the cinnamon colored, terraced
mountains of Judea sporting
young trees planted in memory
of our six million Nazi victims.
The trees stood mournfully
still. We passed shattered
houses, many with roofs blown
off. From the Mea Shearim
Quarter we veered off to the
Valley of Hinnom and ascend
ed Mount Zion. En route tg the
Grotto of the Holocaust we
walked through the Avenue of
the Just, a pathway edged with
sapling trees donated by sym
pathetic Gentiles. The grounds
and structure are cared for by
Yad Vashem. In the dim in
terior of the Tent of Remem
brance, memorial lights flick
ered over the names of the
Nazi death camps engraved on
the stone floor. Pictures of
Anne Frank, Sh. Dubnow. the
historian, and other well
known Nazi martyrs are dis
played in the Exhibition Hall
On one of the walls I read Baal
Shem Tov’s quotation: “For
getfulness prolongs our exile;
Remembrance is the secret of
our redemption.”
We entered the Holy City
through Herod (Zion) Gate. It
unfolded a labyrinth of narrow
sloping lanes and winding
alleys teeming with Israelis,
foreign visitors, and Arabs.
Arab youths hawked Israeli
newspapers, cola drinks, trin
kets and squealed for liras
Pedestrian traffic in all direc
tions, frequently sliced by the
ubiquitous jeeps of the Israeli
military police, was tremend
ous. Many were spared, but
shuttered houses still flew
Continued on page 45
39
The Southern Israelite
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