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We are happy to welcome you to the fourth edition of the Kingsbury
Courier.
We wish Mazal Tov to the incoming new Chief Rabbi Ephaim Mirvis
and wish him all success in his new position. At the same time we wish
Chief Rabbi Lord Sacks and Lady Sacks, a long and happy retirement.
Israel’s 65th Anniversary was celebrated in Trafalgar Square on 2nd June
2013 amidst a huge crowd waving blue and white Israeli flags. Lovely
to meet Kingsbury members there on a bright sunny day.
The Ladies Guild are to be congratulated for their ongoing coffee
mornings and lunches, which have been outstandingly successful,
together with all their hard work in arranging Kiddushim, breakfasts and
suppers for special occasions.
Many thanks to those of you who submitted articles but, of course, we
would like more in the future.
May we respectfully inform you that the price for Pesach or New Year
Greetings in future editions of the Kingsbury Courier will rise from the
longstanding £5 to £7.50p per insert.
We send hearty congratulations to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge
on the birth of their firstborn Prince George Alexander Louis and wish
much nachas to Her Majesty the Queen and all the Royal Family.
We take this opportunity to wish all our readers a Shanah Tovah –
A Happy and Peaceful New Year 5774
Joint Editors: Irene Glausiusz and Leslie Rubner
Rosh Hashanah Message
From Rabbi Cohen
I am writing these
words almost 300
miles from home,
from our regular
summer destination in
the North East of
England, Gateshead
upon Tyne. A number
of the days we have
spent here have had a
reoccurring theme. I
will give you an
example…
We were trekking
along the side of
Hadrian’s Wall, built
to keep the Picts and
Scots out of Roman
occupied England,
enjoying the beautiful
scenery and gorgeous weather when suddenly we were caught in a
torrential downpour. The type that makes you realise that the
waterproofs you brought with just in case are not actually
waterproof! And so we continued on our way, squelching in water
logged shoes drenched to the skin. As we returned to the car and
drove away, of course the sun came out. The theme has been change,
this is England and so we never really know what weather might be
thrown at us.
The subject of change got me thinking. The approaching Yom Tov
has a number of names; Yom haZikaron – The Day of
Remembrance, Yom haDin – The Day of Judgement, Yom Teruah –
the day of Shofar blowing but the one we use most often is Rosh
Hashana – Head of the Year. The Maharal (d.1609) writes that the
word ‘Shana’ – Year relates to the word ‘Shinui’ meaning change,
each year brings with it the potential for change with the coming
year, not just being a repeat of the last.
This helps us understand why Rosh Hashana is placed where it is in
the calendar. If it is an accounting of the past year, then surely the
last day of the year would be more appropriate? Rosh haShana is not
just about the past, it is a time to look back at what we have done in
order to plan the future, to look for ways to change and find ways to
improve our lives.
The Rosh Yeshiva of Sunderland Yeshiva, Rabbi Shamai Zahn,
would often tell his students not to become frustrated with their
perceived lack of progress. He would tell them to imagine the type of
clocks that used to be found in train stations (before everything went
digital!). On some of these huge clocks the minute hand would stand
stationary on each minute and then suddenly shift to the next minute.
On others the hand moves imperceptibly, gradually gliding from one
minute to the next. Some people like to see change of the first type,
sudden and dramatic, but change normally comes about slowly and
gradually.
May we all be blessed with happiness and good health and look for
ways to constantly change and grow in all areas of lives.
On behalf of Rivky, our children and myself, I wish you
ROSH HASHANAH MESSAGE 5774
FROM CHIEF RABBI EPHRAIM MIRVIS
In Jewish tradition, the names we give to places and concepts invariably capture
the essence of what they represent. Our central congregational location for prayer
is no exception.
Located at the heart of
our communities, it has
three well- known
names: beit tefillah,
beit knesset and shul.
Firstly, beit tefillah or
‘house of prayer’. This
title was given by God
to the Temple in
Jerusalem and
continues to be a most
apposite term used to
this day. It expresses
the building’s core
purpose of providing a
place through which we
connect with our
Creator and experience
His presence in a
spiritually rewarding
way. Through our
synagogues facing
Jerusalem, we also
recognise the centrality
of Israel in our lives
Another name is beit
knesset or ‘house of
gathering’. In vogue since ancient times, beit knesset adds a significant dimension
to the role of our synagogues. Indeed, the Greek word synagogue similarly means
‘house of gathering’.
The connotation is clear: our synagogues, especially in the Diaspora, are the
central focal points for Jewish social and cultural interaction for individuals of all
ages and groups of all types. Not only do we enjoy an encounter with God within
its walls; we also engage socially with friends and acquaintances. The weekly
kiddush epitomises the beit knesset, providing an opportunity for us to connect
with others in a warm and welcoming atmosphere. It is encounters of this nature
that weave the social fabric of our communities.
The colloquial name for our synagogues - shul - is taken from the German word
meaning ‘school’. Historically, the local school was housed within the synagogue
building. In this spirit, many shuls today have a kindergarten and run a cheder for
children on their premises.
The word ‘shul’ adds a further dimension to our communal vision. Formal and
informal education, for members of all ages and all backgrounds, must be at the
heart of our shared communal experiences. In seeking to guarantee the ongoing
vitality of our congregations, we recognise that an in-depth awareness of our rich
heritage will pave the way for a meaningful and fulfilling Jewish life in the future.
It is my hope and prayer that all our community centres live up to the three names
we give them, becoming outstanding houses of prayer, houses of gathering and
shuls rolled into one. Providing a combined location for communal spirituality, a
meeting place for communal interaction and a home for communal learning will
ensure we have vibrant and dynamic centres of Jewish activity. Building on the
successes of the past we will transform our synagogues into powerhouses of
Jewish religious, social, cultural and educational activity.
I feel very privileged to have been selected to be your Chief Rabbi and I am
looking forward to having a close association with your community and others
throughout the UK & Commonwealth. We are blessed to have such outstanding
rabbis and lay leaders and, together with them, I will be seeking to further enrich
community life.
Valerie and I extend to you all our very best wishes for a happy, healthy, peaceful
and fulfilling New Year. I look forward to working together with you to develop
and grow our local congregations and our wonderful British & Commonwealth
Jewish communities for the benefit of us all and all of Am Yisrael.
Shana tova
Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis
Rosh HaShanah Message from the United
Synagogue
Over 60 Synagogues are part of the United
Synagogue family, each with its own unique
profile but all adhering to an authentic,
inclusive and modern Judaism. We are
immensely proud of all our communities’
eagerness to provide educational, social and
cultural programming for their members, as
well as running Shabbat services. None of
these initiatives would be possible
without our dedicated team of
fantastic Rabbonim,
Rebbetzens, lay leaders, Tribe
youth directors,
administrators and all other
staff members and
volunteers.
Many communities have
travelled to Israel and Poland on successful heritage trips, organised in partnership
with the Living & Learning department. We are delighted to support communities
in arranging these fantastic tours for adults throughout the year. Closer to home,
three of our communities hosted their own Shabbatons, away from home. Over
350 US members took part in these Shabbat experiences, hosted by Stanmore &
Canons Park, South Hampstead and HGSS. The Shabbatonim were a first for the
US Living & Learning Department who jointly organised the weekends with the
local Rabbonim and Tribe. Everyone had an amazing time sharing a unique
Shabbat experience.
All community trips, regardless of whether they are held in the UK or abroad, are
not only educational; they are an excellent way to strengthen community bonds in
a more informal setting. If your community is interested in organising a
Shabbaton away from home or a heritage trip, please contact our wonderful
events co-ordinator, Nomi Goldberg (ngoldberg@theus.org.uk).
The United Synagogue is proud to be a Zionist organisation. We encouraged our
communities to take part in the Closer to Israel parade, celebrating 65 years since
the establishment of the State of Israel. Our bus was proudly decorated with
Israeli flags and it was great to see so many of you out in support.
We have been delighted to welcome this year both Highams Park & Chingford
and the Wanstead & Woodford communities who both voted overwhelmingly in
favour of becoming full US member
communities. Additionally, we were also
thrilled to announce that Hadley Wood
has become a full member of The US.
We are looking forward to working with
these new communities, to help them
grow as vibrant centres of Jewish life.
Times are changing too for the entire
Jewish community as our esteemed Chief
Rabbi, Lord Sacks, begins the next stage
in his illustrious rabbinical career.
Almost 2,000 attended our farewell event
for Lord Sacks, titled “Our Journey with
The Chief… which included a fascinating
live conversation between Lord Sacks
and Sir David Frost. The evening was an
opportunity for our members to thank the
Chief Rabbi for the tremendous impact
that he has had on British Society, and on
the United Synagogue in particular. We
wish him and Lady Elaine all the very
best for the future.
Rosh Hashanah marks the beginning of the tenure of our new Chief Rabbi, Rabbi
Ephraim Mirvis. Since the announcement of his appointment, we have established
a healthy working relationship with Rabbi Mirvis, with regular meetings to update
him on the fantastic work of the United Synagogue and to discuss future
strategies. We look forward to working very closely with Rabbi Mirvis. He is
truly an outstanding Rabbi, and will grace the position of Chief Rabbi.
We wish all of our members a happy, healthy and meaningful New Year.
Kingsbury Synagogue Ladies' Guild
I just want to up-date everyone - including the people who are unable to attend
shul, or our functions.
In May we had a
breakfast to celebrate
Yom Yerushalaim,
and our guest
speaker was Rabbi
Hool, who spoke
about his experiences
in Israel during the
Six-Day War. To
celebrate Israel's
65th Anniversary, we
held a supper on a
Sunday evening in
June and our guest
speaker was Rabbi
Jonathan Roodyn.
Once a month, we
hold a coffee morning on a Monday. We have someone speaking for about 15
minutes on a subject of their choice. We have also introduced a current affairs
programme, discusing articles from the Sunday papers.
In June, instead of a coffee morning, we had a luncheon which was very well
received. Our next luncheon will be held in November.
We have a weekly Kiddush on Shabbos and for Shavuos, we had a kiddush with a
difference on both days - we gave hot drinks, which was greatly appreciated.
If anyone would like to come to any of our events, or find out more about them,
please contact either:
Sharon Linderman - Chairlady:
sharonlinderman@msn.com
tel: 0208 204 8051
Wishing everyone a Happy and Healthy New Year.
Sharon Linderman - Chairlady
Cynthia Jacobs –Treasurer:
harvcynjacobs@btinternet.com
tel: 0208 205 1310
KKW5
KKW5 meet on Monday evenings at Kingsbury, Kenton or Wembley
Shuls, with very interesting speakers. In June, Lt. Col. Gruber of the
IDF spoke. Also in June, a talk was given by Rev. Malcolm
Weisman.
We always finish with a Grand Quiz at the end of the term in July.
If anyone is interested or would like to know more, please contact:
Sharon Linderman, e-mail: sharonlinderman@msn.com
Tel: 0208 204 8051
Wishing everyone a Happy and Healthy New Year.
Sharon Linderman
The Shul, together with the Kingsbury Synagogue Ladies' Guild, is to
hold a Tribute Breakfast in memory of Helen Drucker z'l on Sunday
13th
October 2013. Those needing any more information, or who
would like to attend, please contact me.
Tel: 0208 204 8051 or e-mail: sharonlinderman@msn.com
Sharon Linderman
Chairlady
On the 08/08/2013, Coffee morning
Irene Glausiusz spoke on the history of
the Association of Jewish Friendship
Clubs.
On the 14/03/2013, Joan Fish talked
about the wonderful times she spent
running the Kingsbury Kindergarten.
On 29/04/2013, Hazel Kay of the Jewish
Blind and Disabled talked about her work.
On 15/05/2013, Yom Yerushalayim, the
guest speaker, our emeritus Rabbi M.
Hool, remembered his times in Jerusalem
straight after the Six Day War.
On 13/05/2013, there was a “What
the Papers Say” coffee morning.
03/06/2013, a luncheon was organised
by the Ladies Guild.
On 16/06/2013. a dinner was organised by
the Ladies Guild to commemorate the 65th
year of Israel’s independence with Rabbi
Jonathan Roodyn as guest speaker.
On 01/07/2013, Martin Robinson
enlightened us on the dangers of
fraud.
On 07/07/2013, our Rabbi Tzvi Cohen
was honoured with the Alumni Award
by the Edgware Torah Centre.
AN ENCOUNTER WITH A MESHUMED
By Bennett Teff
It was in the spring of 1938 that I first met the Rev Erskine Blackburn.
The occasion was a meeting of the Aberdeen Refugee Committee, which I
was attending as a representative of the local Hebrew Congregation - while
Rev Blackburn was there in the capacity of a prominent Churchman who
was sympathetic to the Jewish cause. He was burning with indignation
against the Nazis and promised active support in the work of rescuing
Jewish victims and finding them homes amongst his flock.
After the meeting, he approached me to say how interested he was in
Judaism, and how, during his student days at Glasgow University, he made
many Jewish friends, keeping up his contacts even to this day. Soon he
was asking me to his home and he took the initiative in arranging public
meetings to enlist support and raise funds for refugees.
One day Rev Blackburn phoned to say he would like me to come along to
a special meeting at his church, to hear an address by a converted Jew, a
Rev Heinz Leuner, formerly from Vienna. My curiosity was aroused and I
decided to accept the invitation. In due course, I found myself, in common
with seven or eight hundred others, listening, spellbound as Rev Leuner
unfolded his story from the pulpit. Heinz was a colourful type, with a least
57 varieties of personality and had the gift of impassioned oratory which
made it unthinkable to question the truth of his statements. He told how he
was a successful journalist in Vienna, son of a prosperous Orthodox Jewish
family, when the Nazis overran Austria. Within a few weeks, he had been
dismissed from his post, and his family were robbed of all their
possessions. They were in dire straits, with the shadow of the Gestapo
looming in the background. His spirits had sunk to zero, when a miracle
happened. He suddenly saw the light; a spiritual revolution took place
inside him. Henceforth he must go out and preach the gospel. As if by
magic all his troubles disappeared. He related how his parents on hearing
of his apostasy had mourned for him, as for a dead son, and how he was
completely ostracised by all his former friends.
With the help of an evangelical organisation, he was enabled to escape
from Austria and eventually reached this country, where he was fulfilling
his mission to proclaim “the truth” as a Minister in Glasgow.
As he concluded a hush fell on the audience and I could see he had made a
great impression. My acquaintance, Rev. Blackburn excelled himself in
moving the Vote of Thanks. I was just leaving the hall when my
neighbour turned to me to say how very much he had enjoyed the evening.
He added “It just goes to show what a wonderful change comes over a Jew
when he turns Christian”. Out of an audience of 800 he had to pick on
me!
Footnote: The late Bennett Teff was Honorary Secretary of (the now
defunct) Hounslow Synagogue. He and his family lived in Aberdeen from
around 1934-1950 before returning to London when Bennett worked as a
Customs’ Officer at London Heathrow Airport.
Reprinted with kind permission from Mr Teff’s daughter, Ruth Fletcher.
A Blast from the Past
By Leslie Rubner
Some time ago, Kingsbury Synagogue member, Michael Barnett, lent me a book
comprising a collection of old letters and postcards of Jewish interest from all over the
world. I scanned some of it into my computer and forgot all about it. Recently I was
searching for photos
of my grandparents’
tombstones, when I
came across these
late 19th
or early
20th
century
postcards from my
native land,
Hungary.
It was customary to
sell entrance tickets
for the High
Holiday services,
without which you
were not allowed to
enter for prayers;
the ticket pictured is
from the north
Hungarian town of
Miskolc, dated
September 1941,
issued by the local orthodox community to a Helen Krausz. Her seat was situated in the
upper class, third row on the right side, seat number ten. The cost of the ticket was 15
pengös with 5 pengös tax. (This amount was a high price to pay.)
There are two postcards depicting the famous Dohany Street Synagogue, built from 1854
to 1859, the world’s second largest. One is showing a view of it from Karoly Boulevard
from c.1900 and the other is postmarked 20 July 1892.
There is a postcard sent from Munkacs, my mother’s birthplace, depicting a group of
Hassidim. The sender is wishing happy celebrations and promising the sender to be with
the recipient on the 20th
.
The New Year card is printed in Hebrew, German and Hungarian. The inscription being in
German is beyond me.
Amir’s Makolet By Irene Glausiusz
Amir’s makolet (shop) is located in a porta-cabin within the settlement of
Revava, which is not far from the town of Ariel. Inside he sells everything
and then some, the equivalent of a convenience store.
One enters to find the proprietor sitting behind a desk, where his customers
dump all manner of goods which they are in the process of buying
(although he did acquire two supermarket baskets, but nobody uses them).
Amir enters the clients’ bills on a computer and most pay monthly.
Nothing has a price stamp, but it seems that Amir has a phenomenal
memory and knows the cost of hundreds of items. Of course he might just
be conjuring the amount out of thin air. Nobody seems to complain about
his somewhat arbitrary system.
You could be fortunate and find what you want, but his stock is arranged in
a haphazard fashion. No doubt the regulars know where to look. A visitor
might want Nescafe. Amir will insist that the Elite coffee on display is the
same. If luck holds, you may find the last jar of Nescafe tucked behind his
stock of chocolate. Need a bottle of wine for Shabbat? He has quite a
varied range on a shelf close to the floor and just to impress, these are
covered with a liberal sprinkling of dust.
Should you need an item from the freezer, you might just need a
sledgehammer. The packets at the top seem not quite frozen and try
digging a little deeper, it may well remind you of the North Pole – frozen
solid. Could something liquid have melted and then been re-frozen?
Anyhow, being a busy bloke, Amir hasn’t had time to tackle the
‘mammoth’ job of emptying and defrosting the cabinet.
Looking in the dairy section is a bit of a gamble and it’s wise to check sell-
by dates. Some tubs of Cottage Cheese may be OK, others a bit past it?
Outside the shop, there are piles of cartons. Some contain tomatoes or
cucumbers, while others could be boxes of luscious grapes. At times the
sun is beating down - it could be 90 degrees in the shade, and the fruit and
veg are in the process of being cooked but Amir needs some assistance to
shlep the goods inside. Sometimes, one of the local lads will oblige for a
small consideration.
Friday is Amir’s busiest day. Then the cakes and challas are fresh, never
mind the fact that everyone turns them over to select whatever they fancy.
Health and Safety Rules? Never heard of it. Item not in stock? There
must be some similar alternative. Anyway it’s not as if the locals can shop
around – the makolet has no competitor. A customer may consider driving
to the supermarket in Ariel but then thinks of the saving in time and petrol
plus there’s the feel-good-factor that comes by patronising the local outlet.
An Ode to Yerushalayim – Message for our time
Free translation of Psalm 48 - Monday’s Song, by Rev Gershon Glausiusz
1) A song composed by the Levites of the family of Korach
2) Hashem is magnificent and exceedingly praised in the City of our
G-d, His holy mountain.
3) Of beautiful vistas, the joy of all the lands, Mount Zion, at the edge
of the north of Israel, the capital city of the ultimate King of the
multitudes of peoples.
4) In its palatial buildings, Hashem is known to be supreme
5) Behold though, the jealousy of rulers assembling, passing hostile
resolutions.
6) They see Israel in possession – they wonder how it came about,
they are shocked and panicked.
7) A fear and trembling seizes them, they are overawed, like a woman
in labour.
8) They feel as if overcome by a primeval storm, which breaks the
ships of trade with Europe.
9) As we heard of the events of old, so we see in our own times, in the
city of Hashem of Hosts, in the city of our G-d, may Hashem keep
it well founded and built up forever.
10) We can visualise Your loving kindness to us, Hashem, within its
walls, Your halls of residence.
11) Your praise, Hashem, is like we heard from the days of old,
reaching the ends of earth, Your right bringing justice to the world.
12) Let Mount Tzion rejoice, let its suburbs, surrounding villages and
settlements celebrate in joy, in response to Your laws.
13) Surround Tzion and securely encircle it. Make its towers of
strength count.
14) Set your hearts to become its defensive walls, to enhance its
palaces with defensive peaks, so that you continue to relate to latter
generations.
15) That this is the work of our G-d, who is forever our G-d and he
will be the guide of our ways, undying and forever.
A Saturday Night Out with a Difference By Harvey Jacobs
During 1968 Sammy Rothstein and I were the
group leaders of South London Jewish Voluntary
Service (JYVS). The group consisted of young
people from the age of nine to about 25. Most of
our voluntary work involved elderly or less
mobile people, and could be anything from
visiting for a chat and a cuppa, to gardening,
painting and tidying their house.
In the December of that year I received a phone
call from a group that ran a soup run in the West End and South Bank. They asked if
we had any members who would be able to help over the holiday period. Sammy and
I discussed the matter and then brought the idea to a group meeting.
The plan was to go out on Saturday night and distribute soup and bread to down and
outs. Needless to say, everyone in the group was keen to go. We made the decision
that no one under 16 would be allowed to take part. Only the oldest 4 or 5 of the
group, together with Sammy and I would participate in the first soup run, and we
would go in 2 cars.
At last the day we were awaiting arrived. We met at about 10.30 in the evening and
drove up to town where we were to meet the crew who went out at night.
We were briefed on what to do and how to behave. We were advised not to give any
money to any of the clients, as the main priority for many of them was to buy drink.
Perhaps more important than the soup was to talk to the many people who were
sleeping rough, as during the day they had very little interaction with the public -
except when begging for money.
Next there was the soup to make, which consisted of meat off cuts and vegetables
scrounged from butchers, greengrocers and bakers. We then had to pour the soup
from the large pots on the hob into urns and load the urns on to the van they used.
We started off in convoy, our two cars following the van, our first stop being by the
entrance to one of the small parks on the Embankment. It was surprising how many
down and outs there were in the area and we had about 40 who came for soup and a
chat.
After about half an hour, it was on to the next stop, south of the river on a bomb site
(we still had them in 1968) near County Hall. A group of men were gathered around a
fire that they had built and were drinking a variety of drinks, from beer to gin and
whisky. Talking to this group was an eye-opening experience. Although they were
living rough, they were articulate and chatty. When I asked how they managed to get
hold of the drinks they told me that they had two alternatives, either to go into an off-
licence and steal them, many wore long coats with poachers pockets inside, they
would drape the coat over some of the bottles on display and appear to be looking to
choose a bottle, but meanwhile secreting a bottle or two inside the coat. The second
method was more honest! They would beg for money on the streets. I laughed and
said they surely couldn’t make much that way and the reply was about £100 per day.
At that time I was earning just over £1500 per year.
Our next stop was the back of one of the hotels in the Aldwych. Here another surprise
awaited us. A group of men were gathered by the hot air vents to keep warm. Then
we saw that they had a drum of methylated spirits. Sharing a ladle they took turns to
drink from it. They were a very jovial bunch and offered us the ladle to have a drink -
we declined of course.
The next place we visited was in Camden Town, just North of Camden Lock. The
area was not then as yuppified as it is now. In a deep shop doorway were three or four
men seated around a very large man who was holding a discussion on the English
language. It turned out that he had been a professor of English in a midlands
university, but had suffered a nervous breakdown when his wife died. Doling out the
soup, we joined the discussion. An interruption occurred when a passer-by stopped
and made fun of the group. The large man stood up, grabbed hold of his tormentor,
picked him up over his head and threw him into the middle of the road.
Our last stop for that night was by the side of King’s Cross station. The group here
was a mixture of men and women. All welcomed the hot soup and hunk of bread,
chatting to us as they drank.
We finally arrived back at base at about 4a.m. We cleaned up and started off home.
At the group meeting after our night out, all who had gone on the soup run enthused
about it and asked me to arrange another one. I contacted the organiser and told him
that my group would like to make a commitment to go regularly on the soup run. We
opted for Saturday night as we had no work or school on the Sundays.
We did the run on a weekly basis for some months when some changes were made in
the way the soup run was organized. We continued doing the soup run under a new
umbrella organisation, St. Mungo, but that is a tale for another time.
Ziba and Sasson Hanouka In conversation with
Irene Glausiusz and Leslie Rübner
Sasson Hanouka was born
on 9th December, 1952 in
Tehran; his mother Iraqi
and father Syrian – his
parents were in fact third
cousins. Both had fled
their native countries for a
safer life in Iran. Sasson
describes life in Tehran in
the era of the Shah as
wonderful for the Jewish
people, a safe haven,
comparable as a city to Los
Angeles. Every facility
was available for the community; numerous synagogues, Jewish schools and
Jewish newspapers (almost like the Jewish Chronicle); Matzot were baked in their
synagogue, and the Seder service was read in Hebrew and translated into Farsi.
Of the dozens of beautiful synagogues in Tehran, Sasson recalled three in
particular - the Sinai, the Ettefaq, where he celebrated his Bar Mitzvah, and the
Abrishami Synagogue. His first
language was Arabic but he also
learned Farsi and some French. An
only child, he lived with his parents
in a big house – mother was an
English teacher and father
(incredibly an only son with 10
sisters) was the Manager of the large
luxurious five-star Commodore
Hotel.
Ziba (who has a Kurdish heritage) and Sasson married at the Abrishami
Synagogue in 1980. The officiating Rabbi was the esteemed Haham Yedidia.
Sasson recalled that the Shah was quite pro-
Jewish (although later OPEC was distinctly anti-
Israel). The Shah helped Israel, especially at the
time of the Six-Day War. (In turn, Israel helped
Iran with agriculture and various building
projects.) The Shah wished for good relations
with the USA, but Oil Minister Mohammad
Mosaddeq wanted the oil industry to be
nationalised and staged a revolution against the
Shah. (In the end Mosaddeq was sentenced to be
executed for espionage, but was later reprieved
and he served a 3 year term of imprisonment -
then placed under house arrest for the remainder
of his life.) However, the Shah’s days were
numbered during the American presidency of
Jimmy Carter. With the return of the Ayatollah, everything changed dramatically
for the Jewish community and it was time for the Hanouka family to think of
leaving their home.
The family had no option but to leave Iran, which had to be done illegally, with
no passports available. As Sasson said, “Which would you choose, your
possessions or your life? There was no choice.” Thus their worldly goods, in
other words their wealth, was forfeit. They were able to sell their house for a
fraction of its value, receiving maybe one quarter of its true worth. Large bribes
were handed over to the guides and so they crossed the border into Pakistan. They
managed to pack four suitcases, the contents of which were stolen by the guides
and so they arrived with empty luggage.
The family spent one month
in a decrepit hotel in Karachi
and in March 1985 their
London based uncle arranged
a visa and so they came to
England. Sasson recalled at
the time that Margaret
Thatcher was in power and
she was very sympathetic to
the Iranian refugees. Ziba,
Sasson and children settled
into a small flat in Golders
Green - Sasson reflected on the comparison. They had lived in Tehran in a
“mansion” but again “Do you save lives or possessions?”
Once settled, Sasson obtained work in
Hatton Garden in the jewellery trade. Ziba
went to the Hendon College to improve her
English speaking skills and subsequently
found work at the Beit Yaacov crèche. She
was so successful that she was encouraged
to study for her NVQ2 exams, which she
passed and thus became fully qualified - a
great achievement!
Ziba and Sasson have three children,
Frankie, Valentine and Simon, (who are bi-
lingual in Farsi and English). Their daughter
Valentine is a doctor and they are proud
grand-parents to two grand-children, Noah
Gabriel and Aaron Daniel.
Nowadays, Sasson works in a Harpenden based wholesaler, selling fishing tackle,
and both he and Ziba are fully occupied helping with their young grandchildren.
But what of life in present day Iran? Ziba
and Sasson still have relations in Tehran but
communications are difficult. They feel sure
that phone conversations are monitored, and
are very cautious about saying too much, and
they naturally avoid discussing any political
issues. Their emails cover only mundane
topics.
The story of the Hanouka family is the age
old tale of the wandering Jew, but happily
they have found a safe haven in Britain,
whilst some of their other relatives are
settled in Israel. They joined Kingsbury Shul and Sasson mentioned that he still
uses a Siddur with a Farsi translation. They have rebuilt their lives with an
astonishingly positive outlook, even if they do look back occasionally with some
“rose tinted” feelings of nostalgia.
There were no translations entered to the Competition column.
The Rev. Gershon Glausiusz very kindly translated the poem for
our benefit.
Extinguished Lights
From the poems of Zerach Halevi of Jerusalem,
Copyrights 1967 Mossad HaRav Kook
Free Translation by Rev Gershon Glausiusz
You, O You, the lights of Sabbaths and Festivals enveloped in wonders
Who with modesty were lit by Jewish Mothers in the Diaspora
She spread her hands, poured out her prayers, with warmth and hope filled
emotion
For her husband and her children, to bring in their meagre livelihood.
You lit candles that spread into every cleaned corner of the room sparkles
of light
From the Candlesticks that her hands had polished with affection
They shone bright, reflected in reddish wine of the Kiddush and the
whiteness of the tablecloth,
And from the eyes of lovely children, fountains of sharp wisdom.
You lights that kindled in the mists of generations past, hopes of the future
Why , O Why, precious lights, so suddenly were you extinguished in our
exile
Why these homes of righteousness were destroyed by beastly evil men
And the children of the pious were annihilated in the rusty iron ovens
To honour the Holy Days the synagogues were lit up, thousands of our
lights glowing in them
Placed in candlesticks reflected from the words on the tables and the
ceiling decorations
Waves of multicoloured light, filled with much joy and confidence shone
from the faces of our precious ones
In solemnity, the scattered people of Yisroel united with Divine Master
who dwells in Tzion
Whilst in their mind’s eye they beheld in wonder the vision of our people
redeemed in the land of our life
As the prayers ended, they flocked in their multitudes onto the streets still
charmed by their visions
Then did the lame say, we may flock thus in the city of our prophets.
You the Lights, have you forever ceased from spreading your brightness
Had the sounds of Joy of Shabbat and Festivals been silenced forever in
those habitats
May there appear the Messengers of retribution to repay in kind
To those cruel ones who extinguished those pure lights of Am Yisroel
Slowly, like Nobility, they proceeded to their eternal rests as if clothed in
sanctity
Poor and rich alike, they were ennobled by the rays acquired in life on that
night
Youth flowed along, their hands caressed by their parents
Whilst on their lips graceful tunes of their lives curled upwards.
Their paths were lit by the stars; shafts of Mystic lights guided their route
Come, your tables are set, the candles here issue their lights forever,
With the scent of fine gardens bathed in all manner of brightness from
jewels and windows
And the House of Yisroel was sanctified on their return, with Peace
You, our lights, your shine had died down in the ruins of the Golah,
The darkness hid by those mists covered the ruins of those collapsed
homes.
My HaShem, O My HaShem, please return the remnants that escaped the
ovens to us in their entirety
And here in Israel, light up again the joyful light to shine in full brightness.
The Olympics and Me By Jonathan Brody
I don't remember being at all excited by the announcement in July 2005 that London
had won the battle to host the 2012 Olympics. I definitely had no interest in being one
of the 70,000 volunteers - or Games Makers as they would be called - who would be
recruited to help put on the Games.
However, in mid-2010, we were told that as one
of the sponsoring companies, British Airways
had been allocated 300 Games Maker
positions for its employees. There would
be an internal selection process and those
successful would receive extra annual leave
to cover much of the time. On hearing this, my
altruistic nature kicked in and I decided to
apply.
There was an on-line application form to
complete, after which there was a group
activity during which we were assessed.
After a few weeks I received an email
advising me that I had been successful
that included a code to enter when applying on the London 2012 web-site to indicate
that I had been "nominated" by BA. I later found out that there was a much lower
level of interest from staff than had been anticipated and that, as a result, nearly
everyone who applied was successful.
When applying on the web-site, one could specify the type of role in which one was
interested and the location or locations that one preferred. I said that I would like a
"Sport" role, because I felt that would be my best chance of coming into contact with
competitors, and that I preferred to be in the Olympic Park, because that would mean
I would be at the heart of the Games. Sometime later I received an email inviting me
to an interview. I had been chosen to work in Event Services, which meant I'd be dealing with spectators not competitors. The possible roles within Event Services
were general stewarding, disability assistance, manning an information point and
team leading.
The most memorable thing about the interview was that it was my first visit to the
Excel Centre and my journey on the Docklands Light Railway. The interviewers
were also volunteers and had been given the title Trailblazers. Apart from the
interview itself, there was a chance to look around an exhibition that explained the
various roles, to watch a video presented by Eddie Izzard (the official comedian of the
Games Maker programme) and to have a photo taken for accreditation. There was
also a shop to buy London 2012 merchandise.
Towards the end of the year I received confirmation, advising me that my application
had been succcessful and they'd decided that my talents could be most productively
employed manning an information point in the Olympic Park Command Domain,
which was the open area of the park to which spectators had access, that wasn't part of
any of the sporting venues.
The initial part of the training was on a Sunday afternoon in January i.e. "orientation"
at Wembley Arena. This was a chance for all Games Makers to get together, although
I ended up sitting next to someone who was also going to be on an Information Point
and works for BA. It was intended to get everyone excited about their part in the
Olympics, but it seemed to be designed for people whose idea of intellectual
stimulation was watching Britain's Got Talent or Big Brother. As a result, quite a few
people wanted to resign, especially those who'd travelled from distant parts of the
country, the day after the worst snow of the winter.
On a Sunday in March we had a day's training at a college in Hackney to prepare us
for our role, or it would have done, if the computer system on which we'd be logging
‘lost and found’ property had been working properly and they had any of the short
wave radios we'd be using. Having said that, it was still a vast improvement on the
orientation training.
In May I visited a warehouse near the Olympic Park to collect my uniform and other
equipment, which consisted of a bag, an umbrella, a watch, two pairs of socks, two
shirts, two pairs of trousers, a pair of trainers, two belts, a baseball cap, a jacket, a
travelcard, a water bottle, my accreditation and a guide telling me how to wear the
uniform.
With a month or two to go, my roster was issued. Most of my shifts were 5.30am to
4.00pm. The rest were from 2.00pm to 1.00am. However, because the sport was
normally scheduled to finish long before then, I was always able to leave before
midnight. On a rainy Sunday afternoon less than three weeks before the Games were
due to start (Wimbledon men's final day), I paid my first visit to the Park for venue
training. I was amazed by how much work there appeared to remain to be completed.
Parts of the Park resembled a building site, there were plenty of holes in the footpaths
and roadways and although there weren't many workmen on site, they seemed to be
digging more holes than filling the existing ones.
My first impression of the Park (apart from how wet it looked) was its size. Although
I'd seen the maps, it was a shock to see that it was about 2 miles from one end to the
other and I hoped that I wouldn't be walking across it too often. First of all, there was
a two-hour briefing in the Copper Box, which was used for handball during the
Olympics and goalball during the Paralympics. One of its unintended features was
that the roof appeared to leak during heavy rain. Given that the leak was above the
playing area, I hoped that they'd either fix it or that there wouldn't be any rain during
the Games. We were then given a guided tour of the Park, although because of the
weather they decided to shorten the route.
During the week leading up to the Opening Ceremony, two dress rehearsals were held
in the Stadium. Games Makers and the families of the performers participated in a
draw to win tickets to see the rehearsals. I was one of the successful ones and on the
Monday I left work early to travel to the Park. It wasn't a very good omen that there
were problems on the Jubilee Line that meant I had to take a more tortuous route.
However, I arrived on time and took my seat about a dozen rows from the front about
halfway down the 100 metres track. The flags of all the competing nations were
hanging from the edge of the stadium roof in alphabetical order and immediately
behind me was the flag of Israel.
The rehearsal included the entire Opening Ceremony performance (apart from the
footage of the Queen making her journey from Buckingham Palace to the Stadium by
helicopter and parachute accompanied by James Bond and the Chariots of Fire
footage). Until that point I'd been severely underwhelmed with excitement about the
Games, but after the dress rehearsal I couldn't wait for my first shift.
There were six information points around the park, although after a few days they
decided that one of them was so quiet that there was no point continuing to man it. I
quickly realised that it was worth arriving early enough for a shift to be able to pick
one of the busier information points. Although the early shifts started at 5.30am, the
park didn't open until 7.00am, so there was time for a briefing, to get acquainted with
the people with whom I'd be working (there were usually between two and four of
us), to have a drink and to make sure everything was ready for the public's arrival.
Frequent questions were “Are there any more tickets on sale?”, “Where are the
nearest toilets?”, “Where can I buy sun-screen?”, “Where can I smoke?”, “Where can
we see Wenlock and Mandeville?” (the mascots). A person queried “Where is the
nearest water fountain?” She was standing in a puddle a metre away from it! Among
the less frequent questions were “When will I be able to book for Limmud
Conference?”, “Where can I buy a uniform like yours?” and “I've a spare ticket;
would you like it?”
There were several people who had tickets for another event later in the day in other
parts of the country who wanted to know how long it would take to get there,
including one person who had an hour to get to Manchester. One woman had a young
child who was dressed up as Wenlock and was hoping to meet the mascot in person.
We were also responsible for lost children and vulnerable adults, but luckily there
were not too many of them and it never took more than half-an-hour to reunite them.
The thing that seemed to take up most of our time was dealing with lost property.
Anything that was handed in to us had to be logged on paper and on the computer
before being sealed in a bag. When banknotes were handed in, two of us had to count
them and sign the paperwork. The most popular things for people to lose were front
door keys, most of which had no identifying features. If people wanted to report
something they'd lost, we also had to record it on both paper and the computer. One
woman, who'd won a rowing medal for Britain at a previous Olympic Games, came to
me to report that she'd lost her iPhone.
Because we had one computer for logging the lost property and browsing the web to
answer people's queries, at busy times we'd end up with a large backlog of items to be
entered on the computer. The
advantage of having an
early shift was that one
could leave it for the
people on the late shift
to complete when they
had time.
I was able to use French,
German and Ivrit a few times and
among the people I met, there were
two members of the Palestine Olympic
Committee and I spoke to a few famous people. On several occasions when I was
travelling to or from Stratford in uniform, strangers would smile at me and thank me
for what I was doing.
Contrary to what was reported in the Jewish press, there were tasty kosher meals
supplied by Hermolis for Games Makers.
Being a Games Maker was hard work and I was grateful when the fortnight was over
and not just because my alarm kept going off at 3.30am. However, it was still a great experience to be part of the Olympics!
The Great Escape (With sincere apologies to Hollywood)
By Leslie Rübner
It was a grey Sunday morning on the 4th of November 1956. We were sluggish,
lazy, and slow to rise. Shabbat, the day before, was relaxed and happy. The
uprising of 23 October 1956 had achieved its objectives of ridding Hungary of the
Soviets. My father tuned in to Free Kossuth Radio (the flagship of Hungarian
Radio) for the news. The announcer was repeating a broadcast made by the Prime
Minister Imre Nagy at 5:20am informing the Nation and the wider world that
Soviet troops had attacked the capital, Budapest. I remember thinking: ‘Now or
never, this is the time to leave’. I must have said it aloud, because a swift answer
followed saying: ‘You are definitely not going anywhere!’ I started reasoning
with my father; we both had known what this invasion meant, but he was worried
that the Russians would catch and imprison me. He suggested I go up to a railway
station outside Budapest and return, saying that the Russians had stopped me.
However, should I go ahead, I should make my way to London where his older
brother resided. I arranged with a classmate, Tommy Kramer, to meet early next
morning to try our luck.
Monday morning, the start of a new working week, when normally crowds of
people struggling to find a foothold on the trams or holding on to the bars,
hanging out like bunches of grapes, would make their way to work. But this
Monday morning the streets were deserted. Tommy and I (with goose fat
sandwiches prepared by my mother and wrapped in an old newspaper, addresses
of family in the West and my pair of tefillin) took the tram to the Southern
Railway Station in Buda. From this terminus the trains were leaving toward the
west of Hungary and to Austria. On arrival, we found the ticket offices closed.
Nevertheless, we found a multitude of people trying to board the waiting train for
the border town of Sopron. Hoping for the best, and without a ticket, we
embarked. After a short wait the train began, very slowly, pulling out of the
station. At first, we were moving at a snail’s pace, but in the open country we
gradually picked up speed. After a few hours ride the train stopped suddenly in
the open countryside and some of the passengers climbed down out from the
carriages and proceeded to walk across the muddy fields, sinking ankle deep in
the waterlogged earth. Then the train moved on for a couple of miles and stopped
again. Yet more people disembarked. Then the penny dropped, and at the next
unscheduled stop we too left the train and followed the others. As we entered a
ploughed field our feet sunk deeply into the soggy soft earth which was sticking
to one’s shoes, making them heavy, and when we tried to lift our legs, in order to
move forward, it felt as if the earth was sucking us down. We met a group of three
young people also looking for the border. It turned out that they were Gypsies
from the Lowlands of south eastern Hungary. The five of us, two Jews and three
Gypsies, joined forces in search of a better life on the other side of the border. By
this time, the moonless night enveloped our little group in total darkness and we
lost the other escapees. Luckily, we came upon a farmhouse. One of the Gypsies
knocked on the door. ‘Excuse me’ said he, ‘Could you, please, direct us to the
border?’ The farmer pointed us in the right direction. After a couple of hours of
hard brisk walking, we came across the canal that was the border with Austria.
The bank was cleared of all vegetation and dusted with white chalk to make it
difficult to approach the border unnoticed. Every 50 or so metres there were, now
abandoned, watchtowers. In the distance the silence of the night was shattered by
bursts of machine gun fire, and searchlights were cutting through the darkness.
We decided to look for a bridge or boat to get us across. All we found was a
blown up bridge. I was supposed to be good swimmer, so this puny little canal
should not bar me from my freedom and I waded in. Swimming with shoes on
and fully clothed in freezing temperatures with my little package held in between
my teeth was no easy task, but I managed. When I clambered out on the other
side, in Austria, it must have been about 2am. I followed the road I stumbled onto.
My coat on my back had frozen solid. When I tried to bend the collar of my
overcoat, it just snapped off.
Finally, I reached a village. As I made my way through the dark main street, dogs
on both sides were barking at me, but to my surprise no one came out to
investigate. Obviously, by the time I came, the villagers had become used to
strangers arriving at all hours. Suddenly I saw a house with all the lights ablaze,
so I knocked on the door. When I was let in I saw an old man propped up in bed,
his sombre looking family sitting around him. To one of them, who understood
Hungarian, I told my story. He gave me clean underwear to change into and a cup
of boiling hot coffee and thereafter he took me to the temporary Red Cross shelter
in this village of Pamhagen (Pomogy in Hungarian). Here, finally, I was able to
have a nice hot shower. Very exhausted, I lay down onto the spotlessly clean
camp bed and slept. In the morning, to my surprise, the companions I had left
behind were sitting there, looking bright and cheerful. As it turned out after some
more searching, they found a rowing boat. We stayed in Pamhagen for, I think,
three days. When we left, the old man was still among the living.
Three or four big buses pulled up outside the Red Cross building. We piled in for
the long haul to Ried im Innkreis in Upper Austria. The Refugee Camp
in Ried was a converted army barracks, set in secluded woods. Somehow we had
lost the Gypsies by then. An official ushered us in to a large hall; around the walls
there were three tier wooden shelves, about 2 metres wide, thickly covered with
fresh straw. In the middle there were trestle tables and benches. The hall was
filled with young men and women, middle-aged people, children and babies. A
vigilante group was formed, the “Camp Police”. Their declared aim was to find
communist elements among the refugees and to “teach them a lesson”. Every
evening, these thugs were coming with stories of how they beat up the
communists. Strangely, most of those so-called communists were Jews and that
had made us eager to leave as soon as allowed. We were locked in for political
and health screening, with armed police guarding all the exits.
I was not abused in the camp, being of similar age to the members of the “Camp
Police”, sporty and well built, so I was accepted. Nevertheless, one could feel the
anti-Semitism in the air, so we decided to escape. We scraped some earth from
under the fence and left. Once out, we had to find our way without speaking
German. We came upon a highway and, according to the road sign, Linz was 82
km away. We started out toward Linz on foot and we came across another
Hungarian refugee camp. As we entered the place, my schoolmate Tommy, who
was not religious at all, told me not to embarrass him by refusing their food.
Worried about anti-Semitic sentiments, he did not want them to realise who we
were. According to Hungarian hospitality, we were offered ham on bread with
some wine to drink. After complaining of a stomach ache, I was given a loaf of
stale bread. They offered us room for the night, a shower in the morning, and we
were on our way. Suddenly a lorry stopped next to us. My companion ran to the
cab and asked the driver in Hungarian, ‘Are you going to Linz?’ Without a word,
he opened the back of the lorry and motioned to us to jump in. Once inside, he
locked us in. After a short time the lorry screeched to a halt and suddenly the door
opened and the driver motioned for us to alight; we had arrived in the capital of
the state of Upper Austria (Oberösterreich), Linz.
Wandering around town, looking for the British Consulate, I saw suddenly my
girlfriend Erika (a student of the Jewish secondary school two years below me,
and the daughter of my father’s best friend and business partner) in the company
of strangers. She told me that her parents had entrusted her to some relatives from
the provinces and instructed her to try to make her way to Canada, where
members of her family were waiting for her. However, her guardians, after an
ugly anti-Semitic incident at the Ried Camp, where the Camp Police had accused
them of being Communists, and beat them raw, decided to go on aliya rather than
to Canada and she was going with them.
Suddenly I forgot my father’s instructions (to go to London) and I decided to
follow her. We contacted the Jewish Agency in Linz who gave us rail tickets
to Vienna. When there, the Jewish Agency put us in a small hotel, we were given
some spending money and issued with vouchers for clothing from a department
store. I telegraphed both my maternal and paternal uncles in Madrid and London
respectively, informing them that I had succeeded in escaping and that I
was presently staying in Vienna, giving my address. As a result, my mother’s
brother flew in from Madrid and turned up at the hotel. He had forbidden me to
go to Israel and ordered me to wait while he organised the rescue of my family
from Hungary. I did not listen to him. My mind was set to follow Erika. While my
uncle busied himself with rescuing my parents and brothers, I was getting ready
to go on aliya. We were organised into a group of boys and girls and were taken
to the Railway Station where I had a banana, the first of many new flavours I
tasted in quick succession.
The train pulled out and made its way through the beautiful scenery of the Alps
to Italy. My very first sight of the sea was when, on a causeway, the train was
approaching Venice. While there, the Jewish Agency put us up in a third-rate
hotel. The local Jewish youth welcomed us and made us feel at home. They took
us on a sightseeing tour. With no means of communicating, it could not be an
easy task. We saw St Mark’s Square, dominated by the Basilica of San Marco and
the Doge’s Palace. This is where the Procuratie Vecchie (Old Law Courts)
and Procuratie Nuove (New Law Courts) are. We saw the Campanile San Marco
(the bell tower of St Mark’s Basilica). To the rear of the Doge’s Palace we set
eyes on the famous Bridge of Sighs; this is the connection to the palace and the
public prisons. Eventually we boarded an Italian ship bound for Haifa. All the
passengers seemed to be Jews heading for Eretz Yisrael. The first port of call
was Piraeus, the Port of Athens. Some of the travellers disembarked to go on a
tour, around the Acropolis in particular and Athens in general. Needless to say
we, the olim, with no passports, could not disembark. The next stop
was Famagusta, the only deep-sea port of the Island of Cyprus; we weighed
anchor way off the coast. The British Authorities, who at that time were
fighting the EOKA lead by Archbishop Makkarios, surrounded the ship with
gunboats; nothing and no one would get off or on the vessel. Our boat carried on
to the last stop, Haifa. As Mount Carmel came into view, most of the passengers
went to the port side to see their land and the land of their ancestors for the very
first time.
The Skinners’ Company’s School for Girls
What goes around, comes around. By Irene Glausiusz
With the end of WW2 in
1945, as an evacuee, I
returned to my family home
in Clapton and re-entered
Millfields Road Primary
School in time to sit the 11-
plus exam - I passed. Of the
four local grammar schools,
my parents felt that Skinners
had to be the number one
choice because two of our
neighbours (former Skinners
pupils) worked in Downing Street – that was enough of a recommendation for my
mother. To her unbounded delight, I was offered a place. Previously a fee-
paying school, with the 1944 Education Act steered through Parliament by
Education Minister Rab Butler, fees were abolished.
What a strange new world. For starters, a uniform had to be bought, at a time
when clothing
coupons were
still in force -
tunic, blouses,
pullover,
plimsolls,
outdoor AND
indoor shoes, a
beret to be worn
at all times in
the street, the
list seemed
endless. Woe
betide any girl
who lost an
item. It ended up in the Pound, a huge wicker basket, containing odd gloves,
shoes, pens, books and any object found lying around. It took a while to rummage
through before finding some long lost treasure and the culprit had to pay a penny
or two fine.
Two-thirds of the girls were Jewish and, dare I say it, they were the brightest –
several achieving the distinction of becoming Head Girl. We had separate Jewish
prayers three days a week conducted by the indefatigable Mrs Rose Lipman who
later became Headmistress of the Clapton Jewish Day School and a Hackney
Borough Councillor. The Hackney Archives, housed in the Rose Lipman
Building at the De Beauvoir Centre, have been named in her honour.
Kosher lunches were available at the adjacent OSE Canteen (now Lubavitch High
School). The best part about having a kosher lunch was escaping from school
confines and after the meal being free to roam around Stamford Hill until
afternoon lessons resumed.
With changes in population in the Stamford Hill area, the school became multi-
ethnic and latterly specialised in Business Studies, Enterprise and ICT. The
numbers expanded and the pupils were being taught inconveniently at two sites,
thus they found a new location and morphed into the Skinners’ Academy opening
in 2010 in the Woodberry Downs area and, shock horror, it became co-
educational! But what of the original listed building in Stamford Hill? It was
acquired by Berkley Homes for redevelopment into luxury flats. When the
housing market took a dive and under local protests ‘that Hackney didn’t need
“luxury” apartments’, Berkeley Homes sold the building to the Satmar
organisation. Now a new
venture, Beis Rochel
d’Satmar Girls’ School, has
opened its doors for those
aged between 2 and 17. So
the original intention of the
Skinners’ Company for the
foundation of a girls’ school
in Stamford Hill, is still
being fulfilled, albeit with a
different focus.
Former Skinners’ pupil Betty Borger meets Prince Charles On 23
rd July 2013, the 75
th Anniversary Reunion of the Kindertransport was held
at JFS which I attended with my son Leonard, in light of the fact that my late
husband Shmuel had arrived in England aged 8 with the Kindertransport
organised by Dr Solomon Schonfeld. I received a letter saying that Prince
Charles was providing a special reception for all the Kinder on the following day
at St James’ Palace, so I took the plunge and replied saying that although my
husband was no longer alive, would it be possible for me to attend in his place? I
didn’t expect a reply but to my absolute amazement and delight, my son and I
were invited.
Next day we went to the Palace and by chance before leaving home, Leonard
picked up a photo album from my grand-daughter Yael’s Bat Mitzvah. After
passing security, I left my handbag in the cloakroom, but took the album with me.
The Palace, of course, was impressive. High ceilings with gold ornamentation –
just like my lounge at home in Stamford Hill, crimson curtains, long windows and
enormous portraits of kings and queens in the three rooms used for the reception.
There were 400 invitees, half of them Kinder, each accompanied by a relative or
companion.
I was in the second room, hemmed in by the guests. Prince Charles was at the
entrance of the room talking to those who caught his attention. His security men
were asking people to move back to make way for the Prince, and suddenly – like
the parting of the Red Sea – I found myself at the front of the newly made
pathway. However, he took nearly an hour to move down the room, greatly
interested in everyone he spoke to. I felt there was little chance for me.
However, as Prince Charles chatted to someone nearby, he glanced at the photo
album I was holding, and he reached towards it. I had it open at the page showing
a photo of Rabbi Dr Schonfeld and another of my husband Shmuel aged 3 years
old. Also snapshots of his family on an outing to Vienna, as well as his parents
who perished in a Riga concentration camp. I explained the relationships and
then introduced my son, whereupon the Prince shook his hand. What an extra-
ordinary experience!
Looking back to the 70th Kindertransport Reunion, when Prince Charles was the
Guest of Honour, he showed great empathy with the plight of the Kinder. He said
he felt “for these young children who arrived in England – without language,
without their parents and with nothing – yet they had made something of
themselves and contributed so much to this country”.
In conclusion, recently I was privileged to meet Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan
Sacks, and I took the opportunity to inform him that I had been at the same school
as his mother – Skinners – of course!
The Kamianets-Podilsky Massacres By Leslie Rübner
In the 19th
and early 20th
century there was a steady immigration of Jews
from neighbouring countries into
Hungary. This immigration increased
between 1939 and 1941 to about 20,000,
mainly from Moravia, Bohemia, Slovakia,
Poland, Germany and other German
occupied European countries. They
comprised people looking for a place of
refuge in the relative safety of Hungary (a
fiercely anti-Semitic country then, just as
nowadays, but not yet genocidal). As
Germany’s ally, Hungary declared war on
the Soviet Union on 27th
June 1941. In the
same year the Hungarian Government
agency, the Office of Aliens’ Control, issued
a decree that all Jews living in Hungary
including northern Transylvania and the
Lower Carpathians (the Ukrainians called this region Trans-Carpathia) had
to establish they were Hungarian, or face expulsion. My mother, with my
father being absent in a forced labour camp in the Ukraine, had to prove
that both she and my father were long standing Hungarians. For her, as she
was from a family of district Rabbis, it was not too difficult; she had
official documents and even a rubber stamp as evidence. My father’s case
was different. My paternal great-grand father Paul Rübner came over from
Silesia in the early or mid-eighteen hundreds and settled in Mezötur in the
Hungarian Lowlands, and from there my grandfather Manó Rübner, as an
early chozer bi’tshuva, escaped to join a yeshiva in the northern town
of Balassagyarmat.
When in the 1940s my mother visited Mezötur looking for evidence of my
father’s Hungarian credentials, she was surprised to find a family of
publicans, totally devoid of Yiddishkeit (there was not even a mezuzah on
the front door). Although my father’s ancestry did not go way back, it was
just about far enough. Had this not been the case, we, as more than 20,000
others who could not document their origin (and, by the way, also some
who could), mostly Polish, Russian and others, would have
been transported across the border to Poland or the Ukraine, more
specifically to the Ukrainian town of Kamianets-Podilsky
(just Kamenets in Yiddish). In preparation for the expulsions, from July
1941 onwards, in Budapest as well as in the provinces, the Hungarian
Police forces carried out arrests of these “stateless” Jews. Many Jewish
communities, especially in the the Lower Carpathian region (then under
Hungarian control), were deported in their entirety. The Hungarians loaded
the Jews into freight cars and transported them to Körösmezö (in
Ukrainian Yasinya), near the prewar border, where they were taken across
to the former Soviet Union. By 10th
August 1941 approximately 14,000
Jews had been deported. The Hungarian authorities transferred another
4,000 later in the same month.
The deportees were received with open arms and the Kamianets-
Podilsky Jewish community shared with them their homes and meagre
rations. Jewish public buildings, including the school and synagogue, were
made available as shelters.
The Germans took over occupation of Kamianets-Podilsky from their
Hungarian allies on the 11th
of July 1941 and as soon as the 20th
July a
ghetto was set up and the Jews from the city and its outlying areas,
including the 18,000 Hungarians plus Jews from Holland, Poland and
Czechoslovakia, were incarcerated.
A Hungarian soldier on 18th
or 19th
August 1941 recorded the following:
“There are several Jews here, especially women, they are in rags, but they
ask for bread wearing jewellery and with their lips painted red. They
would give any money for it. Some count their steps with desperation
shown on their faces; others are crawling on the road collapsed from
exhaustion and hunger. Some others bandage the wounds on their feet with
rags torn from their clothes … The Jewish quarter of the city is full of
Jews, there are many from Budapest among them; they live in unspeakable
and indescribable dirt, they come and go in scanty attire, the streets stink,
unburied bodies are lying in some houses. The water of the Dneister is
infected; here and there corpses are washed out to the bank.”
When at Tarnopol the 10th
Hungarian Hunter Battalion chased some one
thousand Jews across the Dneister River in the direction of Kamianets-
Podilsky, the Einsatzgruppe C, the special unit set up to murder Jews,
drove them back. Because the Hungarians had refused them,
SS Obergruppenfuhrer Friederich Jeckeln, in line with Nazi government
policy, decided to liquidate all the Jews in the area. On the 27th
August the
SS, in conjunction with their allies, the Hungarian Army, began the
massacres. All the Jews in the place were ordered to march in to the nearby
forest.
The Hungarian Army was using Jewish labour battalions, under torture and
deprivation, to do the demeaning, heavy and dangerous jobs. One such
Jewish slave labourer, Gábor Mermelstein, had been told about the killings
by some locals, so he went to see it for himself and this is what he saw:
“We saw hundreds of people undressing there … we were passing a row of
maple trees practically over the mess of naked corpses … suddenly we
glanced at a square shaped ditch, on all four sides of which people were
standing. Hundreds of innocent people were machine-gunned down. I’ll
never forget what I saw and felt; the scared faces, the men, women and
children marching into their own graves without resistance. I felt fear,
outrage and pain simultaneously.”
It took three days to kill 23,600 Jews.
The Einsatzgruppe went around murdering Jews and Communists from the
moment the Germans attacked the Soviet Union; prior to that there had
been the wholesale extermination of Jews in occupied Poland. But this was
the first massive scale massacre committed by the Central Powers.
In January 1942 Hungarian troops, all by themselves, massacred Jews
at Novi Sad, now part of Serbia, but then in Hungary. When you hear
Hungarians arguing that they were innocent bystanders of the Holocaust,
there is plenty of evidence to prove the contrary and you can tell this story
to them.
Many thanks for the Kingsbury
Courier for publishing my
recollections.
Seeing my story in print rolls back
the years- where has all the time
gone?
Best wishes
Joan Fish
Ref: See the Pesach Edition 2013
“Joan Fish in Conversation with
Irene Glausiusz and
Leslie Rubner
We are proud to be members of
the Kingsbury Synagogue. We
have a special respect for Rabbi
Cohen, indeed a perfect
gentleman, who has always
been very helpful.
Thank you for your interest in
our story.
Ziba and Sasson Hanouka
These announcements were found in shul newsletters and bulletins. Even spell check
wouldn't have helped.
Don't let worry kill you. Let your synagogue help.
Join us for our Oneg after services. Prayer and medication to follow. Remember in prayer
the many who are sick of our congregation.
For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have a nursery downstairs.
We are pleased to announce the birth of David Weiss, the sin of Rabbi and Mrs. Abe
Weiss.
On Thursday there will be a meeting of the Little Mothers Club. All women wishing to
become Little Mothers, please see the rabbi in his private study.
Rabbi is on vacation. Massages can be given to his secretary.
The Men's Club is warmly invited to the Oneg hosted by Hadassah. Refreshments will be
served for a nominal feel.
Please join us as we show our support for Amy and Rob, who are preparing for the girth
of their first child.
If you enjoy sinning, the choir is looking for you!
Sholom Aleichem called Adam the luckiest man who ever lived – because he had no
shviger.
The visiting rabbi stopped in the middle of his sermon and signalled to the shammes. “In
the second row,” he whispered, “is a man sound asleep. Wake him up”“That’s not fair”
said the shammes. “What do you mean “not fair”? “You put him to sleep; you wake him
up”
19 July 2013, to Harvey Jacobs on his 70
th Birthday
15 July 2013, to Roz and Stephen Phillips on the birth of a
granddaughter, Tova Chaya.
15 July 2013, to Sam and Daniel Phillips on the birth of a daughter, Tova
Chaya.
To Martin Robinson on his 60th
Birthday
03 July 2013 to Michael Barnett on his 80th
birthday
03 July 2013 to Jeanne and Reuven Lavi on the birth of a
granddaughter, Tirtza Rachel.
03 July 2013, to Gabriella and David Berrebi on the birth of a daughter,
Tirtza Rachel
17 June 2013, to Ruth and Wayne Birnbaum on the birth of a
grandson in New York
17 June 2013, to Abigail and Ben Kurzner on the birth of a son in New
York
12 June 2013, to Roz and Stephen Phillips on the engagement of
their daughter Abigail to Zvi Ormonde.
12 June 2013, to Abigail Phillips on her engagement to Zvi Ormonde
07 May 2013, to Ziba and Sasson Hanouka on the birth of a
grandson.
07 May 2013, to Valentine and Jonathan Goldstone on the birth of a son
30 April 2013, to Rosalind and Julian Mann on the birth of a
granddaughter, Bat Chen
30 April 2013, to Stefanie and Daniel Dasa on the birth of a daughter, Bat
Chen
02 April 2013 A great-grandson for Irene and Gershon Glausiusz –
Ori born to Chen and Yechiel Badichi and to their grand-daughter
Menucha Badichi on achieving an MA with Merit in Fashion
Design.
18 March 2013, to Jackie and Michael Roodyn on the birth of a
granddaughter
18 March 2013, to Yael and Rabbi Jonathan Roodyn on the birth of
a daughter
From Rabbi Zvi and Rivky Cohen and family.
Mignonette and Stanley Aarons wish everyone a Kativa V’Chatima Tovah.
Best wishes for a happy, healthy and peaceful New Year – Cynthia Green and
family.
Pat and Stanley Brody and family in London and Jerusalem wish all our friends in
Kingsbury a Happy, Peaceful and Healthy New Year.
Best wishes for a Healthy and Happy New Year and Well Over the Fast from Silvia
and Harold Stone and families here and in Israel.
Roz, Stephen and Tammi Phillips together with Rochel, Chagai, Refael Yosef,
Moriah, Uriel Moshe, Chana and Achiya Cohen (Edgware), and Samantha, Daniel,
Shemaya and Tova Phillips (Edgware), and Abigail Phillips (Jerusalem) would like
to wish everyone a very Happy and Prosperous New Year.
Henry and Sylvia Malnick together with Hannah and Avi Friedwald and Ruth,
Avraham, Dina Malka and Yehoshua Klein wish everyone Shanah Tovah.
Rayner and Michael Barnett and family wish everyone a Happy and Healthy New
Year and Well Over the Fast.
Greta and Lawrence Myers, with Sharon and Roi, Tehilla, Sarah and Moriah
Blumberg, Deborah and Binyamin, Betzalel, Elisheva and Tamar Radomsky, wish
all of their friends and family in Israel and elsewhere, what they wish themselves for
a Healthy and Happy New Year.
Kesiva Vechasima Tovah from Wayne and Ruth with Sami and Doron Birnbaum;
Rabbi Yoni and Elisheva with Nechama, Shimi, Tobi and Sara in Hadley Wood; Dov
and Tehilla with Gavriel, Chaya, Shmuel and Yaacov in Yerushalyim; Ben and Abi
Kurzer with Ahron Eliezer in New York.
New Year wishes and greetings from Jonathan and Mary-Ann Landaw, Jacob,
Raphy, Asher and Rochelle, Yitzi and Rachel, Rachel, Naomi and Wembley.
Julian and Rosalind Mann, together with Stefanie and Daniel Dasa, together with
Shirelle, Itamar Yaacov, and Bat Chen, Rabbi Benjamin Mann, Rabbi Michael and
Chana Mann together with Tuvia Yoseph, Yisroel and Shalom Chaim, wish all the
community a Shonah Tovah.
Irene and Gershon Glausiusz with all their family, wish Rabbi and Mrs Cohen and
all members of the Kingsbury community a Shanah Tovah v’Metukah
Deborah and Leslie Rubner wish a Happy New Year to all members of the
community.
Ruth Aharoni wishes everyone in the Kehillah a Happy New Year and Well Over the
Fast. Good Yomtov!
Reuven, Jeanne and Joseph Lavi and Gabriella, David, Tehillah Shimon, Yonatan
and Tirtza Berrebi wish all the community a Shanah Tovah.
Cynthia and Harvey Jacobs together with their family wish the whole kehillah a very
Happy, Healthy and Peaceful New Year.
Ziba and Sasson Hanouka and family wish all the Kehillah a Happy and Peaceful
New Year
Gerald Green, Janice and Ian Donoff and family, wish a Happy and Peaceful New
Year to all their friends in the Kehillah.
Wishing everyone a Happy and Healthy New Year and Well Over the Fast, from
Tony, Della and Vivienne Brown and fiancé Andrew.
Wishing a Happy, Healthy and Sweet New Year to all our family and friends here
and in Israel, from Pat and all the Goodman Family.
Shanah Tova from Simon Levy to all readers.
Doreen and Marcus Mann, together with their family, wish the Kingsbury
Community a healthy, happy and peaceful New Year.
Pamela and Raymond Foreman wish a Happy New Year and Well over the Fast to
the Kingsbury Community.
KKIINNGGSSBBUURRYY SSYYNNAAGGOOGGUUEE Hool Close
Kingsbury Green
London NW9 8XR
Telephone: 020 8204 8089
Email: office.kingsyn@brijnet.org
Rabbi Tzvi Cohen Email: zvicohen@live.com
Honourary Officers
Wardens Harvey Jacobs
Stephen Phillips
Financial Representative Julian Mann
Board of Management Stanley Aarons
Michael Barnett
Wayne Birnbaum
Harold Stone
Richard Shaw
Pat Goodman
Mary Ann Landaw
Sharon Linderman
Board of Deputies Representative Jonathan Brody
Welfare Officer Michael Barnett
Chair Ladies Guild Sharon Linderman
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