Looking Back:: The Russian Revolution Through the Eyes of a Jewish Child

By Isadore Weiss

This book is centered around the memoir Looking Back, written in 1928 by 20 year old Isadore Weiss, only six years after coming to the United States. Isadore provides a fascinating insight into Jewish life in the Ukrainian village of Minkovitz before, during and after World War One. As the war reaches Minkovitz, the reader experiences the rare insight of the communitys reaction to the fighting, the first cars, first motorcycles and first airplanes ever seen by people in that region. Contrary to popular current thought, we also see the excellent relationship between the Jewish community of Minkovitz and the German occupying troops, who made toys and gathered firewood for the homes of the people where they were housed during the winter. Isadore also recounts the artillery and the hand-to-hand combat between the forces of Simon Petlura, leader of the pogroms, and the Bolsheviks. We get to see how the new Communist regime establishes itself in Ukraine. Isadores wife, Sylvia, rounds out the story of how they built a life together in the United States. The story continues of how Isadore graduated with honors from the University of Pittsburgh, and then worked as a Federal investigator as he overcame the barriers of a new language and anti-Semitism. Contributing authors provide background on the contemporary social, demographic and political environment in Ukraine to help the reader put Looking Back into context.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 13, 2009
• ISBN: 9781449027179

Isadore Weiss

Isadore Weiss wrote the manuscript "Looking Back", which is published as Chapter 1 of the book in exactly the same, unedited form as he wrote it in 1928. After coming to the U.S., he graduated with honors from the University of Pittsburgh, became a Federal investigator and played a major role in the investigation and prosecution of the Salad Oil fraud in Bayonne, NJ. Despite extensive traveling for his Civil Service work, he managed to participate in civic and volunteer work in the several locations where he lived and he was a proud and devoted father and husband. Sylvia Weiss, Isadore's wife was an at-home mother, active in the PTA, Scouting, League of Women Voters, and fund-raising for various charitable and civic organizations. Later, she started the Senior Citizen program in her town, and served as councilwoman in East Windsor, N.J. and on the National Board of Elderhostel. In recognition of her, the Mayor of East Windsor established an annual award in her name. Dr. Eamon Doherty is a tenured professor at Fairleigh Dickinson University and studied Russian History with Dr. Alan Ball at Marquette University and provides commentary throughout the book to tie much of the material together. Contributing authors Todd Liebesfeld, J.D., and Joel Liebesfeld provide well documented research on anti-Semitism in Ukraine. William "Pat" Schuber describes the political upheaval in Russia from 1914-1923, and Lew Meixler supplies geographic, social and demographic information about the Ukranian town and region where Isadore and his family lived.

Book preview

© 2009 Isadore Weiss. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 11/24/2009

ISBN: 978-1-4490-2717-9 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4389-8730-9 (sc)

ISBN: 9781449027179 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

Forward to Looking Back

by Dr. Eamon P. Doherty

Part 1

Looking Back by Isadore Weiss

Chapter I

BROTHER’S DEPARTURE TO AMERICA

Chapter II

AT SCHOOL

Chapter III

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE STORM

Chapter IV

WAR WONDERS

Chapter V

INDEPENDENCE

Chapter VI

A POGROM

Chapter VII

THE GERMANS

Chapter VIII

BOOTLEGGERS

Chapter IX

BOOTLEGGING (CONTINUED)

Chapter X

PETLURA

Chapter XI

STARVING

Chapter XII

THE POLES

Chapter XIII

RECOVERY

Chapter XIV

CULTURE

Chapter XV

THE TOBACCO FIELDS

Part 2

Isadore’s Leadership Award from B’nai B’rith

What Judaism Means to Me

by Isadore Weiss

Part 3

Introduction to Sylvia Weiss by Dr. Eamon P. Doherty

Sylvia Weiss

Isadore Weiss

by Sylvia Weiss

Part 4

The Isadore Weiss Audio Tapes by Dr. Eamon Doherty

Highlights from the Tapes

Emigration to the USA

The First Attempt to Go to America

The Second Attempt to Go to America

The Work of HIAS

The Salad Oil King

Part 5 Isadore Weiss’ Family Photos and Immigration Documents

Isadore Weiss Family Tree

Photos of Weiss Family Members

Immigration Information and Documents

The Orbita

Part 6

Social and Geographical Background Related to Jewish Life in Ukraine

The District of Kamenets-Podolski and the Town of Minkovitz

by Lewis D. Meixler

Russia 1914-1923 War, Revolution & Pogrom by William Pat Schuber

The Persecution of Jews in Ukraine

by Todd Liebesfeld, Esq

Pogrom, The Russian Word for Riot

by Joel Liebesfeld

Yizkor Books as a Source of Genealogical Information by Dr. Eamon P. Doherty

Part 7

The Formation Process of This Book by Dr. Eamon P. Doherty

Motivation for the Book

The Scholarly Investigative Work for this Book

Collecting the Material

Scanning the Paper Memoir to an Electronic Format

Inviting Co-Authors to Contribute

Selecting a Publisher

The Book Signing and Poster

Part 8 Acknowledgement

by Dr. Eamon P. Doherty

Forward to Looking Back

by Dr. Eamon P. Doherty

I never met Isadore Weiss personally, but I have interviewed his wife, Sylvia, and his daughter, Deb, heard his audiotapes, and looked at his photo album. I also have an appreciation of the times he lived in from my knowledge of European history, and I read his personal story of his youth in Ukraine during the period of WWI in which he records the difficulties that he and his family faced from poverty, war and the pogroms. Isadore’s memoir, written in 1928, only 6 years after coming to the United States, provides a personal insight into the lives of those living in that tumultuous time. Each day was a struggle to survive from his birth in 1908 to his emigration in 1922 from Eastern Europe. As a young child he experienced the troops of Leon Trotsky and the Bolsheviks occupying his home. Simon Petlura and his mercenaries, the Germans and the Polish army also broke into his neighbors’ homes and occupied their village. He recalls how each of these unwanted guests slept in their beds while they slept on the floor. The guests ate their food, which was not plentiful, and many were abusive. People in Isadore’s town often had little more than their family and their faith to sustain them. Therefore Isadore’s living relatives and I felt it was important to publish this book. His story, Looking Back in Part 1 is in his own words and is unedited. The quality of his language, in my opinion, demonstrates Isadore’s level of intelligence, observation and education and makes what he says genuine and historic. We are fortunate that Isadore has given us this valuable legacy in the form of a first person memoir. We are also indebted to him for providing his essay, in Part 2 on What Judaism Means to Me. We thank Sylvia Weiss for her valuable contribution to the book, which provides insight into the life they were able to build together in the United States. Our gratitude also extends to Melvin Weiss, Isadore’s nephew, who interviewed Isadore in 1982, and provided the audiotapes of his extensive and well conducted discussions, for this book. We wish to thank Isadore’s daughter, Deb Meixler, and her husband Lew for their help in assembling and editing this memoir, and to all the other members of the Weiss family, and to the faculty of Fairleigh Dickenson University for their literary contributions and support. In addition we would like to thank Isadore’s grandchildren Michael and Marci Meixler for transcribing the original memoir Looking Back into digital format and for creating the website www.isadoreweiss.com where the audio tapes and other material can be accessed. Lastly, but most importantly, we are indebted to Isadore Weiss for creating a wealth of historical material which enabled the creation of this book. So now, because of the enthusiastic support of so many, 80 years after the original memoir was written and 100 years after Isadore’s birth, his story is finally published exactly the way he wrote it.

Part 1

Looking Back by Isadore Weiss

A Student of the

University of Pittsburgh

Chapter I

BROTHER’S DEPARTURE TO AMERICA

Dawn had not yet completely routed the darkness of the night. Nevertheless, everyone in our family, including myself- -at that time only five years old- -was already up on this early Sunday morning in the summer of 1912. All of us helped to get Max, the oldest brother, ready to depart to America. Max had just reached his fifteenth year. Father had left instructions before he departed, that at the age of fifteen Max should be sent to join him. Together they would work to earn enough to bring the rest of the family to America.

Three years had now passed since Father had left a wife and six children—five boys and a girl—in this small Russian town. He could not bear to see his children suffer from want of food any longer. He had tried in every way to earn enough money for food at least, but he had been unable to do so. He was not a bad tailor, there were some worse ones in that town; but the customers would come just once, and for some mysterious reason would never cross his threshold again.

Many a night Mother informed us she and father went to bed without supper to save the few crumbs of bread for the children in the morning. Father could not borrow any more, for his debts were already beyond his means to repay. Therefore, after long consultations with Mother, he decided to sell some of the furniture of the house and leave for America, the GOLDEN LAND, as it was popularly known in that part of the world. While in America, he would earn money to pay off his debts and then would bring us over to join him.

To Father’s astonishment, however, he did not find GOLD in the streets of America. Instead, he had to take a job for five dollars a week. Here he worked ten and often twelve hours a day. After three years of such labor, he just managed to keep his family abroad supplied with food. There was not enough left to pay any debts. It was, therefore, necessary that Max should join Father to help clear his name and to bring over the rest of the family.

With great interest I watched Max hide his steamship ticket and identification papers. The coach on which he was to leave was often waylaid by robbers, and every one was relieved of all valuables. Max took no chances of losing his precious steamship ticket. He ripped out the lining of his coat; and between the shoulder-pads he placed some of the money, the ticket, and the other papers; he then sewed the coat lining back into place. Everything now was so cleverly hidden that not even a magician could guess what the coat contained.

Just as the sun appeared, Mother told us children to go outside of the town where Max would board the coach. She and Max would follow us. To attract as little attention as possible, we walked in pairs. We did not wish the police to get wind of Max’s departure. If the police found it out, he would be held for going to America before serving in the army. It was a great offence to try to cheat the Russian army of a citizen’s services. The penalty for this offence might have meant a few years in prison. And so all precautions were taken to keep Max’s departure a secret.

Patiently, we awaited the coach’s arrival from the town. At last it made its appearance. Each of us kissed Max goodbye, When the coach stopped for Max to board it, Mother, crying, took leave of him. Upon seeing Mother cry, we also burst out in tears. Finally the coachman dragged Max away and drove off. "Don’t cry, Mother. Nobody has died that you should cry," I pleaded, associating the crying of an adult only with the death of a person.

You don’t understand, my child. He has to go through a lot of dangers. She went on more to herself than to me, for I could hardly grasp the idea of danger. He is just fifteen, and was never out of town. Now he is to make such a long journey. Worst of all, he is to cross the great, treacherous ocean, where many people drown daily. The majestic word ocean set me to thinking.

Upon reaching the town, I immediately left my mother and sought out my friends, and we started discussing the ocean. We recalled how Jonah was almost eaten by a big fish. Then each one added something of what he had learned from the teacher about the ocean. One comrade, especially, seemed to remember almost everything the teacher had told him about the inhabitants of the ocean:

Large fish, at least the size of a two-story building abounded in the sea. In addition to these monstrous fish, wild, men also were very plentiful there. These wild men had been punished by God and had been assigned to live in the ocean. The huge fish and wild men always tried to capsize the boats plying the ocean. However, they were not always successful. All the boats had sharp knives on the bottoms. The knives were sharp enough to cut the sea creatures in half. But when the knives got dull, the fish and wild men upset the boat and ate the people.

I shuddered to think lest such a fate befall Max. Crying, I ran home and asked Mother whether their stories were true. She told me that the boat Max was aboard would have plenty of sharp knives. The next day, Morris, another brother, ran in out of breath and told us that Max was back under arrest. Upon proper identification by the Mayor, he was given his freedom until the trial. As Max came into the house, we were terribly shocked by his appearance. His clothes were in tatters. His face was all bruised and swollen.

The child in him overwhelmed the man and he burst into tears as he related his experiences at the border: When it got dark, the man, who was to smuggle Brother across the border to Austria, and Max started out from Loskerinin, a Russian town close to the Austrian border. For several hours, they walked through thorny fields. Every once in a while, they imagined that they were being followed, and so ducked close to the ground to avoid being seen. This constant ducking in the thorny bushes caused them great pain because the thorns pierced through their clothes like needles. Upon getting up to continue on their way, the thorns kept tearing away their clothes.

At last they reached a stream about twenty-feet wide. There, the two met a woman with two children. One was four years old and the other was still in the mother’s arms. The child seemed to be about two years old. The man who took charge of the woman with the children took the older child on his back. The other child was taken by the man who brought Max. The men cautioned all of them to follow them on foot through the stream without any noise. At about midstream, the water came to their waistlines. It was then that the older boy cried, Mother, my feet are getting wet.

At that moment, they heard a shout from the guards to return or to be shot down like dogs. As soon as the bank had been reached, the soldiers began beating Brother mercilessly. Not till he had fallen on the ground, half-unconscious, did they stop beating him. Then they ordered him to get up and accompany them. What they did with the woman and children he did not know. When he had wiped his eyes, blinded by tears and blood, she was not there. The soldiers led him back to Loskerinin. From there, he was ordered to be taken home under arrest.

After reciting the above hardships, he vowed that as long as he would live he would not want to go through those sufferings again. It seemed as if they would never cease beating him.

Sunday came around again. Max was now rested and a little more cheerful. Although, when he got back, he vowed that he would not attempt again to cross the border, he now went through the same preparations for his departure as on the preceding Sunday. He had come to the conclusion that it would be better to make another attempt than to rot in the filthy Russian jails.

On the third day our anxieties and fears were allayed. A letter announcing Max’s safe arrival in Austria cheered us all. Our hopes were again high. We were certain that before a year passed, Father and Brother would earn enough to pay the debts and bring us to America.

More than a year passed since Max had left us. We, however, were no closer to America than when he left. The combined earnings of Father and Brother did not suffice to do all the things planned. Father now asked that Morris be sent. And in a few weeks, Morris left us, too.

Chapter II

AT SCHOOL

It was my second year in the local private school. The boys and girls attending it ranged in age from five to fourteen years. My two older brothers and my sister were also pupils there. They, like the rest, were trying to get an education from the only teacher the school had. My schoolmates several times intimated that our teacher had been a good coach driver in another town before he entered the teaching profession. His brutal beating of the pupils had suggested this idea. He got as much delight out of seeing pupils suffer and writhe under his lash as a coach driver does when he keeps lashing the horses while