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#deu-4:David and Minnie (Daughter
of Isadore Norman of Kurenitz) Deutsch (Daitch? Taitch), who emigrated
to Chicago from Dunilovichi. David's place of birth was listed as Buda
on the ship's manifest. On his death certificate |
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#deu-12:
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#deu-13:
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#deu-14:
Ronald S. Deutsch
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#deu-18:
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#deu-19:WILL
AND SUZANNE NORWIND IN (DOLHINOV) FAMILY REUNION
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#deu-20:FAMILY
REUNION 2003
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#deu-21:Norman
and Shirley Deutsch in reunion of family from Dolhinov
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#deu-22:reunion
of family from Dolhinov
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#deu-23:reunion
2003
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#deu-24:Ron
and Sharon Deutsch, Reunion 2003
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#deu-25:Sylvia
Carmel (Dolhinov family reunion, 2003)
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#deu-26:Bill
Dunn
Jennifer Dunn (wife) Rachel (daughter) and Roxy (other furry daughter) |
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From: slaterd@bellsouth.t Hi, My great uncle AZIK DEUTSCH (b.1890, d.1942) and entire family from SLONIM were victims of the Nazi Liquidation there in 1942. I found Pages of Testimony at Yad Vashem on the family submitted in Israel in 1956. I am trying to locate descendants of the POT Submitter, BILHAH KUZNETZ/KOZNITZ listed as a a neighbor & a cousin , either of the Deutsch family or their married daughter BASHKA BUKOVITZKI/BUKOWICKI. I am trying to locate descendants in Israel of the KUZNETZ/KOZNITZ family based on the 1956 address suplied by Yad Vashem: Noakh 15, Kiriat Haim, which I believe is a suburb north of Haifa. Any ideas how to proceed? I do not speak Hebrew or read it well. David Slater |
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Marla's family is from Dunilovichi , about 30 miles from Dolhinov. there were some family relation between people in the Dolhinov area with Dunilovichi Dunilovichi, Vileika uezd, Vilna gubernia, Latitude: 55º04' Longitude: 27º14' Dolginovo, Vileika uezd, Vilna gubernia, Latitude: 54º39' Longitude: 27º29'
marla writes;
My great grandfather David was born around 1848 and died at the age of 83 in Chicago in 1931 According to my father's first cousin, he may have had another wife (but I don't know if this was before or after Minke). Minke came to the US in 1907 with her youngest children, my grandfather Moische (Melvin) and his sister Ueche (Edna). The ship's manifest says they came from Danilowicze (or at least that's what it looks like to me). My grandfather's petition for citizenship, filed in 1943, says he came from Vilna, but I'm guessing that was the region and not necessarily the city. My father's cousin remembers her father saying they cam from a shtetl that sounded like Danilovitz, and she thought it was in Poland! Oral family history says the eldest son, Abe, came over first and settled in the Spokane area. His name in America became TAITCH. The next son, Morris, settled in the Akron, OH areaand his name became DAITCH in the U.S. Samuel, Herman, Rose and Ed became DEUTSCHes and settled in Chicago. Herman, Samuel and my > grandfather, Melvin, became dentists and all had practices in the Chicago area. I also know that David raised his children in a very strict, Orthodox environment.
Family oral history says that Abraham, who settled in Spokane, came out first and then Morris, who settled in Akron. It's interesting that the patriarch, David, ended up in Chicago. According to the city directories, it appears at least one of his sons (I think it may have been Samuel or Herman- I don't recall which) was there before he was.
David TAITSCH, became DEUTSCH in America he came from Danilovitz. David was born around 1848 and died at the age of 83 in Chicago in 1931. the eldest son, Abe, came over first and > > settled in the Spokane area. His name in America> became TAITCH. ; Deutsch, David View Image Online 1920; Age: 72 Year: 1920 Birthplace: Russia Roll: T625_322 Race: White Page: 2B State: Illinois ED: 785 County: Cook Image: 0856 Township: Chicago came to the u.s in 1897 wife; minnie 66 in 1920 Birthplace: Russia came to the u. s in 1897 son in law; zimmer Harry 21 came to the u.s in 1906 from Austria artist, lithography daughter Edna zimmer; 20 Birthplace: Russia came to the u.s in 1906 niece; Shirley was born in Illinois. first son; Taitch, Abraham Age: 53 Year:1930 Birthplace: Russia Roll: T626_2516 Race:White Page: 5B State: Washington ED: 44 County: Spokane Image: 0596 Township: Spokane Relationship: Head Date of Death: 30 Jan 1953
Sarah was second wife ;
Taitch, Sarah Age: 40 Year: 1930 Birthplace: New York her parents were from France Roll: T626_2516 Race: Page: 5B State: Washington ED: 44 County: Spokane Image: 0596 Township: Spokane Relationship: Wife Children; Taitch, Ruth Age: 18 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Roll: T626_2516 Race: Page: 5B State: Washington ED: 44 County: Spokane Image: 0596
Township: Spokane Relationship: Daughter
Taitch, Rosella Age: 16 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Washington Roll: T626_2516 Race: Page: 5B State: Washington ED: 44 County: Spokane Image: 0596 Township: Spokane Relationship: Daughter Taitch, Eudell Age: 14 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Washington Roll: T626_2516 Race: Page: 5B State: Washington ED: 44 County: Spokane Image: 0596 Township: Spokane Relationship: Son CLICK FOR PICTURES; Taitch.com-->: diamonds: jewelry: rings: wedding band: necklaces: certified diamonds: bracelets: diamond: engagement rings: w.. Taitch, Marvin CLICK FOR PICTURES; Taitch.com-->: diamonds: jewelry: rings: wedding band: necklaces: certified diamonds: bracelets: diamond: engagement rings: w.. Age: 12 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Washington Roll: T626_2516 Race: Page: 5B State: Washington ED: 44 County: Spokane Image: 0596 Township: Spokane Relationship: Son Born 24 Dec 1917 Washington Died 15 Dec 2000 Raisin, Fresno, CA married GLENNA H TAITCH Born 16 Nov 1916 Died Dec 1993 99203 Spokane, Spokane, WA Name: Glenna H Taitch SSN: 533-14-0298 Place of Death: Spokane City Residence: Spokane City Age: 77 years Gender: F Date of Death: 05 Dec 1993 Certificate: 038618 ARLAS M TAITCH
second son; Daitch, Morris Age: 38 Year: 1920 Birthplace: Russia Roll: T625_1439 Race: White Page: 12B State: Ohio ED: 166 County: Summit Image: 0871 Township: Akron was a real estate salesman in 1920
Daitch, Morris View Image Online
Age: is only 46 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Poland the area of dolhinov and danilovichi in vileyka, Vilna became part of Poland from the end of 1920 to 1939it want back to the Soviet Union after the war and now it is in Belaru. she was 25 she 23 when they first got married Roll: T626_1875 Race: White Page: 8A State: Ohio ED: 52 County: Summit Image: 1000 Township: Akron Relationship: Head here he is a produce dealer he has the same wife and three children from 1920 bur now he has another daughter. Daitch, Lena Age: 43 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Poland in 1920 it was Russia Roll: T626_1875 Race: Page: 8A State: Ohio ED: 52 County: Summit Image: 1000 Township: Akron Relationship: Wife Daitch, Harry J Age: 20 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Roll: T626_1875 Race: Page: 8A
Daitch, Julia Age: 17 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Roll: T626_1875 Race: Page: 8A State: Ohio ED: 52 County: Summit Image: 1000 Township: Akron Relationship: Daughter Daitch, Edward Age: 12 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Roll: T626_1875 Race: Page: State: Ohio ED: 52 County: Summit Image: 1000 Township: Akron Relationship: Son Daitch, Shirley Age: 7 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Roll: T626_1875 Race: Page: 8A State: Ohio ED: 52 County: Summit Image: 1000 Township: Akron Relationship: Daughter here he came in 1906 with his wife they have a house for $5000 and he is a dealer he is hebrew here Daitch, Robert S Age: 32 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Russia Roll: T626_1876 Race: White Page: 19A State: Ohio ED: 61 County: Summit Image: 0341 Township: Akron Relationship: Head came from Russia in 1914? Yiddish speaking Tobacco salesmanDeutsch, Herman View Image Online
Age: 32 Year: 1920 Birthplace: Russia Jewish came to the country in 1906 papers in 1912 was a dentistRoll: T625_322 Race: White Page: 4B State: Illinois ED: 773 County: Cook Image: 0574 Township: Chicago Wife; Ruthi 27 born in Illinois to Russian Jewish parents daughter Eloise 2.5 years old in 1920 they had a live-in maid; Anna Kic? from Austria 21 years old
Deutsch, David in 1930 is it him; Deutsch, David Age: 80 Year: 1930 Birthplace: Russia Roll: T626_454 Race: White Page: 8A State: Illinois ED: 871 County: Cook Image: 0468 Township: Chicago Relationship: Head niece; Shirley was born in Illinois in 1930 his wife is ida 67 also from russia they live in 8000 dollar house he first married at age 26 ida at age 21
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http://www.onforeignsoil.com/chapter34.htm Molodetchno, summer 1915..........And late that night, when everyone was asleep, we locked the doors and closed the shutters...with a small knife, my uncle cut open his breast-pocket, and with a trembling hand, pulled out the false passport, which bore the name of one "Itzko Moiseyevitch Taytsh", ( Ytzhak son of Moshe Taytsh or Daytsh) whose parents had at one time lived in the poor, muddy village of Boyd, and now...had long since gone off to America. And after giving me the passport, my uncle took from his pocket a folded-up piece of paper. And with a quiet, secretive voice, whispered to me: Falik, this is your new family....you must memorize them to the last detail. Because, if the police, God forbid, should stop you and ask who you are, you must know what to answer; you must know your new "family tree". I started in right away to memorize to the last detail this new "Book of Names"; the names of my new "family, with whom my fate was now inter-twined. "And this is the name of my grandfather, of my grandmother, of my new father, my new mother, my new brothers and sisters; one brother, who is married, is so old; the second one is so old, and the third one so; and I, the youngest, am called by the name: Itzko Moiseyevitch Taytsh! Itzko Moiseyevitch Taytsh! Taytsh! Taytsh!" I couldn't close my eyes all night. I tossed and turned, as though suffering from a high fever. Whatever I looked at wasn't mine anymore. The bed - not mine; the pillow, which my "real" mother had given me - also not mine. And no matter how hard I tried to learn the names of my new family, I still couldnâ€t get them to stick in my head. It was as though my true name, which had been part of me since my birth, would under no circumstances permit that this new, strange person should come inside me like a dybbuk to take his place. And there arose between myself and "the dybbuk" a struggle...I was overcome by a hatred towards this new, strange person who had taken up residence within me, so that from this point onwards, I would not be able to get rid of him; I would have to carry him around in my breast, with his name on my lips....this though gave me no peace... To drive away these painful thoughts, which tormented me like swarms of flies, I began to think about that very object under discussion, my "alter ego" whose name I now bore. What, for example, could he have looked like, this 16-17 year-old boy, who was called by the true name of Itzko Moiseyevitch Taytsh? Was he also as tall and slim as I? Did he also have such dark-blue eyes like mine? And does he also have such a black, wavy head of hair like mine? And most important: what kind of character, what kind of soul does he possess? What could he be doing there, in that free, Golden America? Are his parents - "my" parents - still alive? Without a doubt, I thought, he is better off than me. He must certainly be in the University by now...preparing himself to be a doctor, a lawyer, and architect, or even a judge. Over there, what do they know from false passports and phony names? Over there, they are "at home" while over here we are strangers, sojourners, unwanted. For sure, I thought further, if I am ever fortunate enough to find myself in that happy land, I will first of all go to search him out, that Itzko Taytsh. I'll tell him that I had once borne his name. I had once been not myself, but instead....him! Now my name was Itzko Moiseyevitch Taytsh.... Yes, Taytsh, Taytsh is my name. Never mind that my own parents, in Zastavia, have already given me a name: I bid you now, former name of mine, "Falik Zolf", depart from me at once! Get out of me! .........Yaroslavl, January 1917. Apparently, it was not ordained that I should be able to sit back and enjoy the bit of peace that I hand found in the Harkavey Leather Works, where I had made friends with so many of the workers. I was suddenly faced with new troubles which were altogether unexpected.The story (or more accurately, the tragi-comedy) went as follows:One morning, the supervisor of our section brought in a young man of about thirty, with a pale, worried face, and according to his usual procedure, shouted out loud:"Hey, fellows, Iâ€ve brought you a fresh "nerd", a new "Daytsh/Taytsh"!"On hearing this news, a tremendous commotion broke out on our floor. There was an outburst of shouting and laughter that could be heard in every corner of the great workshop. Each one strove to outd- the next in makeing jokes and wisecracks at the expense of the new Taytsh which in any case applied to me as well:"More Taytshes? An ill wind on their fathers!""A plague of Taytshes on us!""We donâ€t want to work with any Germans!""Put him upstairs with the "aristocrats"!"By the term "aristocrats", they were referring to the bootmakers, of whome the greater portion were intellectuals, the "samo-oborontses", as they were called, who had become workers in order to avoid being sent off to war.And so that the spectacle should be even more festive, the supervisor along with Hennekh ran up to me and grabbed me by the arms, shouting:"Come, Taytsh!"....and with great ceremony, dragged me before the newly-arrived "Taytsh", and stood the two of us side by side.They took both our hands, making us shake hands with each other, and then, turning towards us with mock sincerity like real intellectuals, said with mock seriousness:"We have the great honor of presenting you with our own, well-known Mr. Yitzkhak Taytsh".The newly-arrived young man stood there in shock, his whole body trembling in confusion so you could hardly bear to look at him.Who knows, I thought to myself, where he comes from? Who knows if he hadn't perhaps come to bear the name Taytsh in the same way as I?After the raucous crowd finally got tired of entertaining themselves to their heart's desire at our expense, the supervisor ordered them back to work. He tossed to the newcomer a dirty old leather apron, and set him to work right beside me. This meant that I, Yitzkhak Taytsh, should keep an eye on this second, new "Taytsh", as though there were some intimate connection between the two of us.When the whistle blew, announcing that the time had come to eat lunch, I invited may new acquaintance to eat with me in the nearby tea-house, where the workers in our factory used to go for a quick meal.My intention was, that while we were eating together, I might be able to draw out from him the information as to whether he was a "real" Taytsh, or merely a Taytsh like I was.I sat down with him in a quiet corner, and ordered for both of us. But my guest barely touched his food. And to my question:"Why donâ€t you eat?", he simply answered:"Thanks, Iâ€m not hungry."As an experienced "imposter" who had long carried with him a false name, I thought I recognized that something was weighing on his heart. Something was bothering him, as though his conscience was not clear. I could se it in the frightened look in his eyes, and his nervous movements. I felt that he wanted to tell me something, but he didn't have the courage; and perhaps, he didnâ€t trust me.Indeed, the desire to know whether he was a real Taytsh from his fatherâ€s father, or merely such a Taytsh as I was, was driving me crazy...but I tried to keep an air of equanimity. I calmly cut a slice of black rye bread, dipped it in my tea, and kept quiet.Seeing my apparent lack of concern, my guest became even more uneasy. Finally he cleared his through and spoke in a quiet voice:"Are you a refugee?""Yes," I answered."What province do you come from?""What difference does it make? I'm a refugee!", I snapped back.After a moment's silence, he cleared his throat again and continued:"I come from the Province of Vilna.""So do I," I answered, hardly daring to reveal any more. But to give him more conficence, I admitted as an aside:"I come from the County of Vileyka."As soon as the young stranger heard that I was from County of Vileyka, he turned white as a sheet. He started squirming uncomfortably, as though he had suddenly gotten a terrible stomach-ache.By now it was clear to me that he was also, so to speak, "a Taytsh from my school"; a deserter just like I was. He had surely purchased his identity from the same old dealer in Budeslav where my uncle, the Cantor of Molodetchno, had bought my false papers......yet he still seemed to believe, that I was a real Taytsh!To break the thick, heavy silence that had suddenly descended upon us, I asked him:"What county do you come from?""I...I...I also come from the County of Vileyka," he barely managed to stammer, looking at me with such pleading eyes, as though seeking from me a way out of his dilemma."What a coincidence!" I said with mock enthusiasm, "two Jews with the same name, coming from the same county. Maybe weâ€re even slightly related somehow?" With these words, I fixed a steady gaze in his eyes, to see what he would say next.He dropped his eyes to the floor. Then, realizing that his own fear might well betray him, he marshalled his strength, put on a smile and spoke softly:"Iâ€m really from Borisov, in the Province of Minsk. I'm only registered over there....""Iâ€m also only from there "on paper", I assured him.He asked me no more questions of my lineage, nor did I as him. And so ended our first conversation.In the course of the next few days, he became quite attached to me. Although he was a good ten years older than me, he always showed me a good deal of respect. He greeted me with a warm "good morning", and was quick to offer me a cigarette. He treated me as though I were an old friend. Perhaps he felt a deference towards me, because he thought I was a real Taytsh, in whose name he was saved from having to go to war.I no longer had any doubt that the two of us, with the name of Taytsh, were, according to our passports, brothers from the same father! I resolved, however, to continue to play the role of a real Taytsh as long as possible.Little by litte, the other workers in our section ceased to find it a source of amusement that the two of us had the same name, "Taytsh". It now appeared to them as nothing more that a very ordinary circumstance, that two such unrelated individuals should happen to have the same name. But so as not to confuse us, they called me "Taytsh Number One", and him: "Taytsh Number Two".A month or two went by. Then one cold, frosty day, early in the month of February, the supervisor showed up in our department clutching his sides with and shaking with laughter. He was accompanied by a Jew of middle years wearing a fur coat, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a round black beard.At first, the workers stared in puzzlement at the gasping supervisor, who seemed to be going through convulsions of mirth...they couldn't figure out, what could be the reason for his crazy laughter. Not until he managed, with a hand-gesture, to make a signal to me and the second Taytsh, who was standing beside me, that we should come forward, was he able to blurt out, half in Russian and half in Yiddish, pointing at the newcomer:"Fellows, ha-ha-ha....itâ€s another Taytsh! The new "geek" is also a Taytsh! What do you say to that!?"If a bomb had suddenly exploded in the middle of the factory, it could not have created a greater uproar than the unexpeced sensation of the "Three Taytshes". Everyone was instantly overcome by such mirth and laughter, just as though all the comedies in the world were being played out at once.Taytsh Number Two was trembling like a willow branch. I, Taytsh Number One, didnâ€t know what to do, whether I should laugh or be terrified? The whole situation appeared to me so fantastic and unbelievable, like a game from the Devil himself. The new Taytsh, Number Three, stood there in confusion, not understanding what was going on.The shouting and laughter were already spreading to the neighoring sections, to the shoemakers, to the bootmakers, and all the other departments. From everywhere, people came running to gawk at the bizzare sight of the "Invasion of the Taytshes" in the Harkavey Leather Factory.That same, day, all three of us were "invited" to the bossâ€s office. Around the office there had already gathered a crowd of curious on-lookers in their leather aprons. Excitement filled the air. Everyone was dying to find out, what would happen to the "Three Taytshes". Most of all, Hennekh the joker was in his glory:"Soon our righteous owner will have himself a prayer quorum of nothing but Taytshes", he wisecracked.Finally we were brought before the old boss Harkavey. He sat there fuming, surrounded by his sons, son-in-laws, secretaries, book-keepers, helpers, and helper†helpers. He was determined to get to the bottom of this. No sooner had we entered the office, than he rose to his feet, fixed his sharp, bespectacled eyes on us, and shouted with rage:" Who are you!?"We, the "Three Taytshes", looked at each other. Each one of us was waiting for the next one to find his tongue. The boss screamed louder:"Why donâ€t you speak? Have you lost your tongues? Answer!!""Bring me their passports!" he ordered one of his secretaries.The secretary soon appeared with a large portfolio, containing the passports of all the workers in the factory. He quickly extracted three documents from the file folder, and began to read:"Itzko Moiseyevitch Taytsh!""Here," I answered, my heart pounding."Shmuel Moiseyevitch Taytsh!""Here," answered Taytsh Number Two with a trembling voice."Avram Yosselevitch Taytsh!""That is I!" announced the new Taytsh in a confident voice."Are all three of you from the same family?" asked the boss, like a judge, barely able to control his anger."God forbid! According to their names, the are my brotherâ€s sons....but my brother and his family are long since gone off to America. I do not know these men! I see them now for the first time!" said Taytsh Number Three, glaring angrily at us."How do you come to be here?" asked the elder Harkavey."We are refugees, have mercy on us, Mr. Harkavey, Sir," pleaded Taytsh Number Two."This is no hiding place for refugees!" shouted the boss, stamping his foot on the floor. "On account of you phony Taytshes, should they close my factory? Send me to prison? Ha!?""Where do you come from?" asked the bosses older son, addressing me"I c-c-come from the Province of Vilna, County of Vileyka," I barely managed to answer."And you?" he asked, turning to face Taytsh Number Two."I come from the village of B-boyd," replied Taytsh Number Two, skirting my answer."From what county?""From the County of Vileyka," he admitted, casting a sideways glance in my direction."And where do you come from, Sir?" The younger Harkavey had addressed the third Taytsh with a certain deference, as though he were impressed by the older manâ€s beard."I come from Minsk. I am a long time resident. I am registered in the County of Vileyka, Province of Vilan. I am a real Taytsh. I come here with a letter of recommendation from our Rabbi, may he live long. I am a father of children, a red ticket. Have mercy and allow me to work here," he concluded in a single breath."I have a wife and two children. I am a refugee," pleaded Taytsh Number Two, "Have mercey on them. Do not bring down misfortune on our heads.""Which of you is a real Taytsh and which is a phony? Speak up, confess!" demanded the boss's son-in-law, the strict general manager of the factory."Idiot!" screamed the elder Harkavey, "you still have to ask? Can't you see for yourself which one is a real Taytsh and which are phonies!?""I am a real Taytsh! From my fatherâ€s fathers a Taytsh! I can swear for you on my prayer shawl and phylacteries. You can ask the Rabbi in my home twon, and even the police!" asserted Taytsh Number Three, with great vehemence."According to their passports, they are all three brothers, or at least cousins, if you can believe it!" interjected the balebus's second son."I swear, I donâ€t know them. Iâ€ve never seen them before!" the real Taytsh, Number Three, continued to insist.The atmosphere in the room was dripping with fear. Everyone was terrifed of the "Three Taytshes. And the "Three Taytshes" themselves were shaking in their boots from fear.The owner, Harkavey, in a state of agitation, was pacing back and forth in the office. Suddenly he stopped next to me and said:"Are you married?""No," I answered, "Iâ€m just a young refugee. My parents have been captured by the Germans (Daytshen)"."Captured by the Germans?....Daytshen, Taytshen!" sneered the boss, spittitng my last words back at me through his teeth. "How long have you worked here?""Eight months," answered one of the clerks on my behalf.Of the three Taytshes, it fell upon me, the youngest, to be the sacrificial hen for all of us. Their status as married men and providers stood in their favor...They handed me my passport, and counted out my final wages, that were still owing to me for the few days work of that week. Without so much as a "Have a nice day", I left the office, as though I were running through a gauntlet.That night, I didn't go back to my room. I was sure that by now, di Yaroslavl police and gendarmes were watching for me. One night I slept with a friend, the next night in the Jewish Folk-School, a third night with the Kotik family. But no matter where I went, I found no peace. With every knock on the door, I felt they were coming to take me away.Just as in my yeshiva-boy days, I ate meals with strangers and slept on strange beds....End of Volume I |
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