Below is my journal from the trip that Sue and I took in July 2001 to the region of Bukovina/Galicia in the Ukraine where my Schattner and Schmerler ancestors lived.
Some photographs from the journey can be seen here.
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Ukraine Trip Report -
Peter Schattner
Thursday July 26, 2001
Sue and I flew into Krakow from Copenhagen on Thursday July
26.
After unloading our bags we went on a quick visit of Krakow's tourist
sites
winding up at the remnants of the old Krakow Jewish quarter. I
remembered
visiting the district when I had been in Krakow some 20 years
ago.
As I recall, at that time the only visible indication of former Jewish
life were in some street names (eg "Jacob Street") and occasional
buildings with Hebrew letters or a spot where a mezuzah
used
to be. Now we were able to see several somewhat-restored
synagogues
(which are essentially museums - since there are almost no Jews in
Krakow),
the Jewish cemetery and a Jewish Community Center (JCC) - used
mainly
by visiting groups and local non-Jews. There are even a few
"Jewish
restaurants" - though they didn't look especially Kosher to me.
Probably
the most interesting was an antiquities and used--bookshop in the
JCC.
The bookshop - which was run by a very friendly non-Jewish man,
carried
a truly remarkable collection of varied items that evoked strong images
of a world that had disappeared.
Friday July 27
The next morning we met Alex Dunai who was to be our
guide-translator-driver-bodyguard-friend
for the next eight days. We loaded our bags into Alex's car and
set
off for our first stop - Auschwitz-Birkenau Concentration Camp which is
located about one hour from Krakow. I had visited Auschwitz 20
years
ago and did not especially want to see it again. However, Sue had
never seen Auschwitz so we decided to go.
There are no words to describe the horror of the place. Still, if our intent was to connect with the reality of Jewish history in this part of the world, then it was probably appropriate for us to see Auschwitz. At the least, we had the knowledge that whatever sights of the destruction of Jewish life might await us in the Ukraine, nothing could be as depressing and overwhelming as seeing Auschwitz.
From Auschwitz, we headed directly to the Polish--Ukrainian
border.
The trip was slowed by heavy traffic and flooded roads from Poland's
most
severe rainstorm in years - but was otherwise uneventful. The
border
crossing itself was bizarre. Long lines of stationary cars (we
were
told some people were waiting up to three hours) which Alex was able to
talk his way past in 20 minutes. He was especially proud that he
had been able to sweet talk his way through customs without even
needing to use the $10 which we had given him for bribes.
Saturday July 28
Today, Alex led us on a visit through Lvov, including stops
at the Jewish cemetery,. The JCC and the synagogue. The Jewish
cemetery
is quite large and well preserved. However, it consists mainly of
graves of Jews who came to Lvov after World War II. The JCC was
closed
(because of Shabbat) but the two watchmen let us in and told us a bit
about
the activities of the JCC and also about their lives. (Including
how one of them had actually immigrated to the US a few years
previously
- but had returned because he had been unable to learn English and had
found life in the US too difficult!).
Arriving at the synagogue in the afternoon, services were
already
over. While at the synagogue we encountered a Western Jewish tour
group. I listened as their guide admitted to one of the locals
that
he had never been to this synagogue before and knew very little about
it
(he didn't realize that I understand Russian which he was
speaking).
I was again very happy that we had Alex as our guide!
Sunday July 29
In the morning we checked out of the Grand Hotel and headed
straight
for Ivano-Frankivsk (formerly called Stanislav) - a large town where
both
Schattners and Schmerlers had lived - about two hours south of
Lvov.
Upon checking into the Roxolana Hotel, I was shocked to realize that I
had left our passports in the safe in the Grand Hotel. (In 25
years
of international traveling, I'd never forgotten or lost a passport
before.)
Not having a passport in the Ukraine is a big deal and I was
envisioning
- at the least - wasting a day going back and forth to Lvov to pick up
the passports. Fortunately, however, we were able to contact
Alex's
brother in law in Lvov and hire him to drive down the passports for us.
In the meantime, we visited Rabbi Kolesnik, the only rabbi in
the area and (I believe) the only rabbi in the entire Western Ukraine
who
was born and has lived his entire life there. He was extremely
helpful
- supplying us with the names and addresses of Jewish family in both
Kuty
and Kosov - two villages which we were going to be
visiting.
He also showed us lists of Jews registered in some of the ghettos in
local
villages during WWII. There we found listings for 3
Schattner
families and 3 Schmerler families (see below). He said he
recognized
the name Schattner as that of the former director of the Stanislav
Jewish
High School. Indeed I had known that Jacob Schattner (father of
Erwin
and Marcus Schattner and of Berl Locker) had been the director of that
school. When asked if any of the school buildings remained, he
took
us next door to see that the buildings were still there (though of
course
they are no longer a Jewish School). Moreover, he showed us
copies
of the architectural blueprints of those buildings that he had - in
which
it was clearly shown that they were built as a Jewish High School. (Photos
of synagogue and school)
Monday, July 30
Today we headed southwest to visit several of the villages
near Stanislav where the Schmerler family - and to a lesser
extent
the Schattner family - once lived. We went to Bogorocharny,
Solotvina,
Nadvorna and Delyatin. In each town, the only remnant of Jewish
life
was what was left of the Jewish cemetery . Just finding these
cemeteries
was an adventure - generally we would start with Alex approaching old
people
on the street until he found someone who knew where it was. Then
we would follow them - or their directions - to some overgrown field
with
broken-down tombstones. Most of the inscriptions were unreadable
and those that could be read were - 90% of the time only in
Hebrew.
Moreover, even when Sue or I could decipher some of the Hebrew, the
names
were often of the form "Chaim ben Mordechai" without any surname at
all.
Considering all that, I consider almost miraculous that we were nevertheless able to find two tombstones in Solotvina with the name Schmerler clearly marked on them. One belonged to a Sara Schmerler, who died at age 75 and was the daughter of a Yosef Schmerler. The other tombstone was entirely in Hebrew, but we could still make out the name Menachim Chaim Schmerler (in Hebrew) written on it.. (Photos of gravestones) And then in Delyatin we were amazed again to find a tombstone for a Rivka Schmerler, also listed as a daughter of a Yosef Schmerler who we could decipher was described as a "tzadik". .
Late in the afternoon we stopped briefly in the picturesque
mountain
village of Yaremcha in the Carpathian National Park. Yaremcha has
no particular family or Jewish interest , but after hours viewing
broken
down and neglected Jewish cemeteries, the beautiful scenery of Yaremcha
provided some much needed change.
Tuesday, July 31
After a brief visit to the for Ivano-Frankivsk Jewish cemetery,
we headed south towards Czernowitz, the city where my father was
born.
Our first stop was at a forest near Kolomea, about an hour south of for
Ivano-Frankivsk . There we visited a memorial commemorating the
tens
of thousands of Jews who were murdered there during the War,
From Kolomea we continued south to Zablotov and Sniatin, two other villages which had been home to Schattner and Schmerler families. Again we asked people to point us in the direction of the Jewish cemetery. In Zablotov, the old man we asked for directions turned out to be the last remaining Jewish man in Zablotov. Mr. Wasserman was a delightful man who had come to Zablatov shortly after WWII. His children have recently been able to create new lives for themselves abroad, but Wasserman himself felt his health and age were not up to starting a new life anymore. The Sniatin cemetery was also completely enveloped in weeds and grass. The tombstones once more were often unreadable and nearly always in Hebrew.
Late in the afternoon we arrived in Czernowitz and checked
into
the Chermosh Hotel. After the Grand hotel in Lvov and the
Roxalana
in Ivano-Frankivsk I wasn't prepared for the Chermosh (though I
had
been warned.) It was like suddenly being transported back 20
years
to the Soviet era hotels I had know n (but not loved). The
hotel and rooms were drab and ugly, the food mediocre and there
were
lots of bizarre rules . Still, it was a roof over our heads and
it
was supposed to be the best hotel available.
Wednesday, August 1
In the morning we first went to the Czernowitz archives
. There, I hoped to find the current name and number
of the house where my Father had been born (I knew the address
had
been "12 Dr.Reichsgasse" - but I also knew that all the street names
had
been changed since them.) Fortunately the woman who ran the
archives
found an old street map from which she was able to figure out the
current
street name. Unfortunately the house numbering system had been
also
changed and we would only be able to guess which house along the
three block long street was the actual one my father had been born in
(assuming
it was still standing.)
Our next stop was the Czernowitz Jewish cemetery. Since the Czernowitz cemetery is far larger and in much better condition than the "shtetl cemeteries" we had been visiting, I was optimistic that we would find additional family graves. In addition, the Czernowitz cemetery had an index file from which we were given the names and locations of 7 Schattner gravesites and one Schmerler gravesite (see appendix). Unfortunately, we then found out that the map of the cemetery hod been lost, and no one knew where the "locations" listed in the directory were actually located! So all we could do was hire one of the cemetery workers who said he'd look for the sites.
In the afternoon, we drove out to Vishnitz, a town about 50 miles east of Czernowitz. Vishnitz which once was 80% Jewish was famous as the home of the "Vishnitzer rabbis" as well as being the former home of my branch of the Schmerler family. Upon arriving in Vishnitz, our first stop was town hall where the mayor and the city council happened to be in session. When they became aware that my grandmother was born and raised in Vishnitz and that my great grandfather had apparently been the mayor, we were received with great warmth and enthusiasm. (Indeed, I must say that we were treated with helpfulness and kindness by essentially all the Ukrainians we met during our travels.) The mayor attempted to help us in my search for a birth record for my grandmother as well as town records for any of the years between 1860 to 1900 when my great grandfather was said to have been mayor. Unfortunately, no birth records survived for the year of my grandmother's birth, and - to my amazement - there were absolutely no records left indicating who had been mayor of the town between 1860 and 1900.
The mayor did provide us with the name and address of
the
only Jew he was aware of still living in Vishnitz - Sasha
Tauscher.
After wandering about a little, we finally found him. Besides
being
a physician , Sasha had also taken upon himself the task of attempting
to preserve as much as he could of Vishnitz's Jewish
heritage.
So in addition to telling us what he knew about Vishnitz's Jewish
history,
Sasha showed us around the town pointing out what remained of the
town's
former vibrant Jewish life - the former synagogue which was now a
theatre,
the buildings that once housed the school of the Vishnitzer rabbis and
the site of the mikvah which was said to have been used by the Baal
Shem
Tov. (Photo of mikvah site)
Thursday, August 2
Today we headed directly to Kuty - the village adjacent to
Vishnitz
that for generations had been the home of most of the Schattner
family.
Again we started at the town hall. The mayor of Kuty was also
quite
friendly and helpful - but once again we were unable to find any birth
records (this time of my grandfather.)
Accompanied by the mayor, we next tried to find the former home of Sonia Schattner whom we had met a few years ago in Argentina (her family branch is on page 15 of the Schattner Family charts.). The directions we had were limited ("Our house was on the Welniana street 50m from the Armenian Church". Eventually we found the street (we never would have found it with the mayor's guidance), but we couldn't really determine which house she had lived in and none of the people we spoke with remembered the name Schattner.
Then we went looking for the Lateshevs - the Jewish family we
had been told about by Rabbi Kolesnik.. Unfortunately, when we
finally
located the right house, no one was home. Next stop was the Kuty
cemetery. Again the cemetery was in very bad shape. The
tombstones
- when readable at all - were almost exclusively in Hebrew and
often
didn't include surnames. Amazingly, we still were able to find
tombstones
for a Chaim Schattner, his wife (whose first name we couldn't decipher)
and a Michel Schattner. (The three tombstones are all at the end
of the cemetery near a farm.) . How many other Schattner graves
are
lost in the Kuty cemetery we'll never know. (Photo
of Chaim Schattner's gravestone)
Finding the Schattner graves in Kuty was very moving for me,
and - despite the fact that I'm about as unreligious a Jew
as there is - I felt compelled to ask Sue to help me recite
Kaddish
at the gravesite.
Before we left Kuty, Alex stopped some old people in the street asking them if they remembered any Jews, any Schattners or the inn that my father's aunt and uncle ran before WWII. But we had no luck. Most people had come to Kuty only after WWII and if they knew of any Jews at all, they would always only be the one family that we hadn't found at home.
So from Kuty we went off to Kosov, a village a few miles away where other branches of the Schattner family had lived . There we looked for the Waxmans - the other Jewish family that Rabbi Kolesnik had told us about. This time we had more luck. After some searching (street signs in the Ukraine are very rare), we found the Waxman home. Mrs Waxman and her Ukrainian husband welcomed us warmly into their modest home. An elderly couple with grown children no longer living in the area, they clearly felt quite isolated - especially from the Jewish community with whom there their primary contacts were periodic visits organized to bring them food and other necessities.
Coincidentally, while we were at their home, one of these visits from the Jewish Community took place. And one of the visitors was Alek Lateshev - of the Kuty family we had tried unsuccessfully to find a few hours earlier. Clearly the Jewish community in this area was pretty small! Alek said that when he and his family had heard that there were foreign Jews in Kuty looking for them, they had all gone into the village to look for us and that is how we had missed each other!
We decided to go back to Kuty with Alek to meet his family. On the way, Alek showed us a small, hill-top memorial marking the spot where hundreds of Kosov Jews had been killed in the Holocaust. (Like all the other Ukrainian Holocaust Memorials we saw, this one was built with Western Jewish funds in the last ten years, since the fall of the Soviet Union.)
I asked Alek whether he recognized the name Schattner - since Leah Schattner who only left the Ukraine for Israel ten years ago had originally been from the Kosov area ( Leah's family branch is on page 4 of the Schattner Family charts.). . He didn't recognize the name, but asked me whether I might recognize his grandmother's maiden name which was "Sender". I was stunned since I knew from my Father that one of his uncles who was killed in the Holocaust was named Chaim Sender. Although we were unable to determine the relationship between Chaim Sender and Alek's family, knowing that Kuty was always a very small village (Chaim Sender is on page 1 of the Schmerler Charts.) I was convinced - and amazed - that I had actually found a living Jewish person there who was - somehow - a distant relative.
The Lateshevs welcomed us with great excitement and shared their sad and poignant life histories . How they had barely survived the Nazis. Their difficult lives after the war. And how they could not immigrate to Israel (as much as they dreamed of it) because Mr. Lateshev was Ukrainian (ie not Jewish) and they had had been married in a church - and hence were not "Jewish enough" to qualify under the Israeli "Law of Return". On the other hand they were Jewish enough to have felt hostility from many of their Ukrainian neighbors for many years.
Tearing ourselves away from the Lateshev family was not easy,
but we needed to return to Czernovitz before nightfall. (Driving
in the Ukraine after dark can be quite dangerous - cars drive without
headlights,
people or cows may be in the middle of dark, unlit roads,
etc.)
On the way back, we stopped briefly at the Vishnitz cemetery, hoping to
find a gravesite of one of the Schmerlers from my branch of the family
- but this time we were not successful.
Friday, August 3
In the morning, we returned to the Czernovitz archives.
The director had made us a copy of the old Czernovitz street map.
(She hadn't been able t give us a coy on our previous visit, since they
had no photocopying facilities at the archive!) She also showed
us
some old Czernowitz "Address books" that she had found. (An
Addressbook
is like a modern telephone book, however without the telephone numbers
since few people at that time had telephones.) I studied
the
1913 Addressbook with astonishment. There were four Schattner
listed
including my grandfather Schulim at 12 Dr-Reichsgasse. The other
three names (Pinchas, Nuchim and Mendel Schattner) were also familiar
to
me from my genealogical charts as ancestors from other branches of the
Schattner family. (Photo of listings
in 1913 Addressbook). In addition there wer listings for
Schattners
and Schmerlers in the the 1915 Addressbook. (See the
appendix for the complete listings.)
Armed with the old street map, we next went in search of 12 Dr-Reichsgasse, the house where my Father was born. Finding the street was easy enough and the houses all looked old enough, so that the house was probably there in front of us. However, not knowing which house number was which, I had to content myself with the knowledge that at least I was on the street where my father had been born.
Returning to the Czernovitz cemetery was also somewhat disappointing. Even with the cemetery directory information, the cemetery worker had been unable to find any of the Schattner or Schmerler gravesites. Since we still had a long drive back to Lvov, we had to leave with these family gravesites unvisited.
We reached Lvov in the evening, in time for Shabbat services at the Lvov Synagogue. The rabbi and his wife - a young Chassidic couple from Brooklyn - graciously invited us to their home after the services. Attending these services and seeing that Jewish spirit and community are again alive in the Western Ukraine in 2001 felt like a fitting completion to this emotionally powerful "journey to the past" for the two of us.
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