![]() ![]() After a very modest breakfast (a piece of bread with jelly and a cup of tea), he would arrange the orphans in pairs and marched together with them to the elementary school. He began his day by reciting the prayer Modeh≪ni with his pupils and then continued with the morning prayer (Shaharit), always allowing one of his pupils to serve as cantor. Despite of his advanced age, he used to sit down with his students and teach them the Five Books of Moses personally. He taught in the elementary school in the morning hours, and dedicated the afternoon and evening hours to educating the orphans. He also lived in the orphanage, which was located on 21 Goldhaber Street (also called Leshnever Street). He was the head of the orphanage for many years. Nakhum Okser, the Bible teacher, who deserves a separate discussion as he was a unique figure. Yitzhak Shkolnik with his hoarse voice, who was the music teacher and Mr. Yitzkahk Shpatz (we still studied German at that time), who sported a pointed beard and the students nicknamed him Shpitzberdchen. His pedagogic policy was based on punishment and beating (his two sons and my friends, Yolek and Tadzo, currently live in England, please forgive me).Īmong the other teachers, I remember our German teacher Mr. He instituted a strict military discipline with us. Arnold Moshtzisker, who initially continued to wear his Austrian army uniform. During my time, the school principal was Philip Ashkenazi, a nice old person sporting a white mustache. Boys and girls studied in separate classes. The attractive twostory building was located on Korzeniowskiego Street. The principal, the teachers and the students were all Jewish. The language of studies in the school was Polish. I stopped going to the cheder and enrolled in the Jewish elementary school. When I was six years old, my father and mentor, may his memory be blessed, passed away. The Shkutzim would throw stones at us and attack us on the way home, and we would just run away from them. The Rabbi's assistant used to bring us back home from the cheder. Later on, I attended the cheder of R' Noah Shapira (who was nicknamed The Red) in the Beit Hamidrash of R' Yehuda Nathason on Shpitalna Street. At the beginning I studied with R' Uri Anstendig at the Shtibel, which was part of the old synagogue in Brody. ![]() In the meantime, I started to attend a cheder. These soldiers took people who prayed on Sabbaths and holidays out of the synagogues, transported them outside of the city, and forced them to dig communication bunkers… As time passed, the Polish regime and its institutions stabilized, and their rule lasted about seventeen years. People, whose hair and flesh were rippedoff, tied a white kerchief around their faces and looked as if they had a toothache. There were soldiers who simply beat the Jews and robbed their property, and others who ripped the peahs (side locks) and beards of Jews with the flesh. Then, a year and a half later, the Polish legions of General Joseph Haller came and attacked the Jews. Austria returned, and then left to make room for the Ukrainians. I can visualize the leaders of the Red Army standing on the terrace of the ∾uropa Hotel, in the corner of Lvov Street (Lemberger Gasse) giving speeches. The Russian soldiers wore those red ribbons on their chests and they stuck red flowers in the barrels of their rifles. Austria returned, and then a year later, The Czar came back and later on, the Red Army. My first memories are associated with the different armies that passed through the city: The AustroHungarian army, attacking Russia and then panicky retreating, the Cossacks, who were chasing after it, passing through the city like a storm, riding on their horses (this is also mentioned by Michael Sholokhov in his book Quietly Flows the Don). ![]() I was one and a half years old when World War I broke. I can visualize the city in which I was born and grew up. ![]()
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