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Flat Rock Playhouse Premieres New Version of THE NUTCRACKER Adapted by SPIDER-MAN's Chase Brock, Today
Prepare to experience The Nutcracker like never seen before as Flat Rock Playhouse, in partnership with Pardee Hospital and Pardee Hospital Foundation, presents the world premier of The Nutcracker, adapted by Chase Brock from E. T. A. Hoffman's story The Nutcracker and The Mouse King onstage today, November 28 through December 22 at Playhouse Mainstage. This new interpretation of the holiday all-dance classic is choreographed by Playhouse YouTheatre alum Chase Brock, choreographer of the Broadway hit, Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark.
The traditional classical ballet will be nowhere present in this new adaptation. Brock's adaptation is very different from the conventional version of The Nutcracker. The dance theater production continues to be all-dance with no speaking or singing, however the plot is a completely character-driven narrative with contemporary characters. Brock's story is fresh, contemporary, theatrical, and fun, featuring all forms of dance - contemporary ballet, jazz dance, theatre dance, Broadway dance, athletic dance, modern dance, dance with hip-hop undertones, and much more. Expect to see perhaps one character on pointe, but otherwise the audience will not see pointe shoes - there is dance in sneakers, dance in heels, dance in jazz shoes, dance in boots, in addition to puppetry. Chase Brock's Nutcracker is filled with comedy, whimsy and magic.
A love letter to his hometown in North Carolina, Chase Brock's adaptation of The Nutcracker is nestled in mountains like the Blue Ridge Mountains, set in a town like Hendersonville, on a tiny-but-bustling street like Main Street. In a small mountain town, something magical is about to happen. It's Christmas Eve and here we meet Marie, the overachieving, independent daughter of serious and strict parents. Teased by posters and music all around town for an upcoming production of The Nutcracker, Marie is resigned to the fact that her parents will never let her see such a "frivolous" show. But, after receiving a magical nutcracker as a gift, Marie creates her own fantastical version of The Nutcracker in her bedroom, borrowing from people and places she has seen around her hometown including scenes from store shop windows, candy shops, cars from commercials she has seen on TV and flowers from the Biltmore's "Festival of Flowers." The beauty and magic of the first snow of the season prompts a wonderful and magical encounter and Marie experiences a delightful reversal of fortune, making the fantasy a reality.
Chase Brock is an American choreographer working in theater, modern dance, ballet, opera, television, film and video games. Brock began his career as a dancer at 16 in the original cast of Susan Stroman's Broadway revival of The Music Man, and assisted choreographers and directors Ann Reinking, Kathleen Marshall, Tina Landau and Robert Wilson on and off Broadway before becoming a choreographer.
For Broadway, Brock is the choreographer for Spider-Man Turn Off the Dark (with music and lyrics by Bono and The Edge) and this season's revival of William Inge's Picnic (Roundabout Theatre Company, directed by Sam Gold). His Off-Broadway credits include The Blue Flower (Second Stage, Lucille Lortel Award nomination for Outstanding Choreography), Lost in the Stars (City Center Encores!, dir. Gary Griffin). Regional: Pippin (Kansas City Rep, dir. Eric Rosen), A Little Night Music (CENTERSTAGE, dir. Mark Lamos), Shenandoah (Ford's Theatre, dir. Jeff Calhoun).
Brock has choreographed 25 dances for his Brooklyn-based contemporary dance company The Chase Brock Experience, including American Sadness, The Four Seasons, Junk and Lies, Mirror Mirror, Mission: Implausible, Slow Float and Whoa, Nellie!, has made ballets and dances for New York Theatre Ballet, Marymount Manhattan College, Montclair State University, NW Fusion Dance, Ballet Spartanburg and Vineyard Arts Project Musical Theatre Lab, and has lectured or choreographed at The Juilliard School, University of the Arts and Yale School of Drama.
Brock's Opera choreography includes Bartlett Sher's production of Gounod's Roméo et Juliette (Salzburg Festival), starring Nino Machaidze and Rolando Villazón (available on DVD from Deutsche Grammophon), then Anna Netrebko and Piotr Beczala. His video game choreography includes Ubisoft's worldwide bestseller Dance on Broadway for Nintendo Wii and PlayStation Move, and television and film choreography includes "Late Show with David Letterman" (CBS), "The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade" (NBC), "Broadway Under the Stars" (CBS), the Joan as Police Woman music video "Eternal Flame," and the musical Clear Blue Tuesday.
The production will feature new musical arrangements by Emmy award winning conductor and musical director, Rob Berman. Berman will adapt Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker score and write new arrangements for Brock's production. Berman received Emmy nominations in 2009, 2010 and 2011 for his music direction of "The Kennedy Center Honors" on CBS, going on to win the award in 2012. The orchestra for the newly adapted version of The Nutcracker by Chase Brock will feature: Rob Berman (piano, conductor, orchestrator) with Jim Anthony (clarinet), Paul Babelay (percussion), Amy Brucksch (classical guitar), Woody Dotson (trumpet), Daniel Iannucci (bass), Beryl Lemmons (flute), Wes Parker (sax), Mariya Potapova (violin), and Eric Scheider (cello).
Experience for the first time, the fun of The Nutcracker, featuring Gerald Avery, Arielle Campbell, Josh Christopher, Jan Javier, Willis Johnston, Alexandra Lyons, Bradford Rahmlow, Kevin Santos, Macy Sullivan and Micki Weiner - dancers from The Chase Brock Experience (Brock's Brooklyn-based contemporary dance company) as well as from international Theater Productions and dance companies (including Disney's Mary Poppins, Twyla Tharp's Movin' Out, In the Heights, Kansas City Ballet, Cirque du Soleil and MOMIX), along with local Flat Rock performers Lauren Rogers Hopkins and Andrew Hampton Livingston. In addition to the professional performers, 22 of The Playhouse's own YouTheatre students will also be featured in the production: Molly Bailey, Margaret Butler, Victoria Cambron, Jesse William Capps, Maggie Conner, Louise Cummins, Miriam Cummins, Marie Danos, Lily Goff, Emily Holbert, Nicolas Hopkin, Raja Jalernpan, Ryan Jalernpan, Hannah McCullough, Casey Mentch, Sheridan Mentch, Sarah Grace Paul, Clancy Penny, Samantha Penny, Polly Phillips, Ella Riddle, Luke Umphlett, and Kara Hope Waldbart.
In addition to Chase Brock (adaptation, director, choreographer) and Rob Berman (arrangements, orchestrations, musical director), the creative team for this new adaptation includes costume design by Ann Hould-Ward, Tony award winner for her costumes for Disney's Beauty and the Beast; scenic design by Dennis C. Maulden; lighting design by Stephen Terry; sound design by Bryan Delaney; audio recording by Robert George at Sound Temple Studio in Asheville and mix engineering by Nick Kourtides; projections by James W. Johnson; and properties and set dressing by Paul Feraldi and Ricky Hesson. The team also includes Janine McCabe as assistant costume designer; Josh Christopher as associate director and choreographer; Micki Weiner as assistant choreographer and dance captain; and Lindsey Moss as stage manager. Theatrical and whimsical, this re-imagined and totally original version of The Nutcracker is sure to become a new holiday tradition for families to enjoy.
Pardee Hospital and Pardee Hospital Foundation present The Nutcracker onstage November 28 through December 22. Evening performances are Wednesday through Saturday at 8:00 pm and matinee performances are Wednesday, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays at 2:00 pm. Tickets to The Nutcracker are $40 with discounts available for seniors, AAA members, military personnel and groups. The Nutcracker has a special holiday student price of $20. Patrons who attend The Nutcracker can receive a $10 discount off each ticket to Celtic Christmas onstage December 5-22 at Playhouse Downtown (this offer cannot be combined with other discounts or promotions; and is not valid for previous ticket purchases).
During the first week of The Nutcracker, a Rush Ticket Discount is available two hours before for the preview performances today, November 28 through the Saturday matinee, December 3. Adult Rush Tickets are $20 and Student Rush Tickets are $10. Rush tickets are very limited and subject to availability. The Playhouse will host a special Audio Described matinee performance of the show for the sight-impaired patrons on Saturday, December 15. Tickets can be purchased, by calling The Playhouse box office at 828-693-0731, toll-free at 866-732-8008 or online at www.flatrockplayhouse.org. Flat Rock Playhouse Mainstage is located at 2661 Greenville Hwy, Flat Rock, NC.


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Lululemon, so Misunderstood
It happened again with lululemon athletica (LULU)!
I can't believe it. The company put up fantastic numbers -- the best in retail -- and then gave muted guidance. What happens? The stock gets hammered before the market opens. Do people wait for the call or the interview we did with CEO Christine Day? Do people think about how this company works? How it is conservative? How this is the game it plays?...177 more words left in this article. To read them, just click below and try Real Money FREE for 14 days.
There's no substitute for a trading floor to get great ideas, so Jim Cramer created a better one at Real Money and blogs there exclusively. We then added legendary hedge fund manager, Doug Kass, with his exclusive Daily Diary and best investing ideas. Staffed with more than 4 dozen investing pros, money managers, journalists and analysts, Real Money Pro gives you a flood of opinions, analysis and actionable trading advice found nowhere else, and allows you to interact directly with each expert.
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subset: commoncrawl


text:
BAGSVAERD, DENMARK--(Marketwire - September 10, 2012) - On 9 August 2012 Novo Nordisk initiated
a share repurchase programme in accordance with the provisions of the
European Commission's regulation no 2273/2003 of 22 December 2003, also
referred to as the Safe Harbour rules.
Under the programme Novo Nordisk will repurchase B shares for an amount up
to DKK 2.0 billion in the period from 9 August 2012 to 29 October 2012.
Company Announcement No 56 2012:
This announcement is distributed by Thomson Reuters on behalf of
Thomson Reuters clients. The owner of this announcement warrants that:
(i) the releases contained herein are protected by copyright and
other applicable laws; and
(ii) they are solely responsible for the content, accuracy and
originality of the information contained therein.
Source: Novo Nordisk A/S via Thomson Reuters ONE


text:
dear everyone
I have just joined and I am not a pacers fan but I am an nba fan in general so would you please welcome me to the forum
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dear everyone
I have just joined and I am not a pacers fan but I am an nba fan in general so would you please welcome me to the forum
Yes you will be welcomed to PD. One thing you have to do though is post another time in the new member thread (2 total postings) before you're able to post on the main boards.
Once you do then come on in we have fans from several different teams. You'll find this board is very inclusive, but they don't waste time with trolls.
You know how hippos are made out to be sweet and silly, like big cows, but are actually extremely dangerous and can kill you with stunning brutality? The Pacers are the NBA's hippos....Matt Moore CBS Sports....
Welcome! Don't know if you watch baseball, but I'm also a Yankee fan!
Welcks to the PDage and you are a fan of the right team so no worries. KNICKS RULE!!!!
So we can trade newman8r now?
[~]) ... Cheers! Go Pacers!
welcome, I'm new here too. this is my first post as you can see.
Welcome, PatWay.
[~]) ... Cheers! Go Pacers!


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Aug. 10, 2009
Drowning Victim Recovered on Calaveras Lake
Authorities Say Accident Could Have Been Prevented
SAN ANTONIO — Authorities this morning recovered a body on Calaveras Lake believed to be a missing San Antonio man whose boat capsized around midnight Saturday.
Texas game wardens found the body around 7:20 a.m. today in about 10 to 20 yards from the lake's northeastern shore. It appeared to be that of Daniel Galindo, Jr., date of birth 3-10-83, of San Antonio, who had been missing since the incident. Authorities say based on tattoos and boots the victim was wearing, it appeared to be Galindo, but the medical examiner had not confirmed positive identification, pending fingerprint analysis. Next of kin have been notified, including the missing man's wife.
"Like many boating fatalities, this tragedy could have been prevented," said Capt. Danny Villalobos, who supervises game wardens in the Bexar County area. Detectives with the Bexar County sheriff's office have been leading an investigation of the incident. But Villalobos did say boat overloading and failure to wear life jackets appeared to be factors. He said that four people on the 12-foot Jon boat "exceeeded the maximum safe capacity weight limit" of the vessel. He also noted that only one of the four passengers was wearing a life jacket.
Authorities say the four boat passengers were fishing, when one person stood up and shifted the boat, which then took on water and capsized. Three were able to swim to shore, but Galindo, the boat owner, never appeared.
Texas Parks and Wildlife Department game wardens were leading the search effort. Searchers included two game warden boats, two boats from the San Antonio River Authority, and volunteers with the Harmony and Sandy Oaks volunteer fire departments.
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(5.4.16 i)


text:
My Best Friend Is A Polish Lowland Sheepdog Men T-Shirt
Product Color:
Product information
The Men T-Shirt My Best Friend Is A Polish Lowland Sheepdog is our old-school favorite. Perfect for use in sports where you are bound to sweat and need wide range of movement. Short sleeves to let cool air in on those hot and sunny days. Also great for every day use and to show everyone your love for My Best Friend Is A Polish Lowland Sheepdog.
This product is made of the finest combed jersey which feels soothing against your skin. Shoulder-to-shoulder taping guarantees long life and a good fit. Polish Lowland Sheepdog Men T-Shirt is available in 10 different color options. Heather Grey: 80% Cotton/20% Polyester. Remaining Colors: 100% Cotton.
Sku: TC1HG0000011750606060171BLOR00000


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[Page 259]
Translated by Jerrold Landau On the Sabbath of June 14, 1941, I left the house in which I lived on Uzaska Street in Kovno in order to go to work at the office on the Green Mountain near Petrovska. I walked in the middle of the free sidewalk. I was surprised to suddenly see dozens of army and civilian trucks laden with moveable objects, men, women and children, traveling in the direction of the train station accompanied by Soviet vehicles. All sorts of explanations of this matter came to my mind.
I arrived at the office. The Jonavers Rachel Levin, Tovia Kolbiansky (the son of Moshe and Rachel) and the director Shimon Merbiansky also worked there. It was through the latter that I was hired as chief accountant after I transferred to the Kemach factory where I continued my service for some time after the war.
Two people were waiting for me at the entrance: The Comsomol member Leizke the Yellow, and a strange man who was a representative of the N.K.V.D. I was ordered to raise my hands. They searched my pockets, and searched through all of my personal belongings in my room. They informed me that I was a prisoner, and that they were bringing me to the train station in Jonava in order to reunite with my family along the way to Siberia.
My sister arrived in the meantime, and when she found out what was happening, she was smitten a second time. The first strike was that her husband Tzvi Levin was imprisoned when the Russians came to Kovno. He was held in the Yellow Prison, and she remained with two young children and with no means of livelihood aside from payments for the room and food. We parted without knowing if we would ever see each other again.
Meir Wolfovich lived downstairs in the house. He was the youngest son of Leiba, and studied in the gymnasium. We were put into a taxi and brought to Jonava, directly to the train station. I did not know at the time that my father was lying in bed sick. We passed by the Kemach. I requested that we stop so that I could pick up some personal belongings. They summoned Greenblatt who brought me suits, boots, coats and shoes. I had placed these there at the time the Soviets entered.
Yitzchak, you will see that for you it will be better, for what will our fate bring? For the war is approaching. We were brought to the car of Jonavers. A guard opened the lock and the latch and brought us up to the train car. Shmuel Chernman and Dr. Mordechai Wolfovich fell on my neck and kissed me. They poured vodka and said, Drink, and it will be okay for you! I emptied the cup. I looked around and what did I see? In a corner on one of the shelves, my poor mother was sitting in agony. Father remained sick in the house, and who knew if she would see him again. Her daughters remained in Kovno, and what would be their fate? As she sat immersed in thoughts about the fate of the family members, suddenly her only son appeared as an angel from heaven! She hugged and kissed me with silent weeping. My sister Leah and her husband Dov Segalovsky with their year old child Uza surrounded me, as well as the other Jonavers in the train: Malka and Avraham Jochovsky, Nissan Goldshmidt all of them young members of Beitar and the Revisionists who had gotten married that year. Nissan and Tzvi perished in the Reshety confinement camp in the region of Krasnoyarskaya in Siberia. Shmuel Chernman and Leiba Wolfovich were later taken from us. Three of us men remained: Dr. Mordechai Wolfovich, Yechiel Kerem of Wilkomir and I with tense nerves. A deep mourning overtook all of us. Many questions drilled through the head: Where would the men be taken? Where were we being taken to? We did not want to utter the word Siberia on our lips for a certain death from hunger and cold would await us there.
Before we arrived at the Orsha Station, I found out that the war had broken out. The Lithuanians counted on a German victory and rejoiced that they would be able to return home shortly. We remain oppressed, for our hatred of the German Hitlerists was greater than our hatred of the current enemy.
The city of Orsha was a large railway junction. We stopped on a side track and once again left to bring food. We did not succeed in getting newspapers, for many people used the paper to smoke makhorka. We also filled up a bucket of kipiatok (hot water) and returned to the wagon with food; however we had no news to tell. Only as we continued our journey did I succeed in obtaining some sort of newspaper from which I learned that the situation on the fronts was not bright. Lithuanian cities were being abandoned, and battles were being fought near Minsk. I thought a great deal about the fate of our dear ones who were left behind.
We moved slowly, for the railway tracks were full of trains with soldiers, arms and supplies. We arrived in Novosibirsk, the capital of Siberia on July 8. This was a giant station, the largest and most important on the Trans-Siberian Line. The station bustled with throngs of people. The pressure of the war could be felt. Our train left the Trans-Siberian Line and turned southward, toward the capital city of the Altai Krai, Barnaul. From there we traveled along thick pine forests toward the city of Biysk. This city resembled a large village. If it was already decreed upon us that we must be in Siberia, we would have been content to remain in that place. But that is not what fate had in mind.
We loaded up our luggage and went out in a caravan of ten trucks. We crossed a bridge over the Ob River. Other trucks set out to other sovkhozes of the area. We crossed the Katony River in ferries. We spent the night in a youth hostel in one of the villages. When we reached the final village on the dry plain, the drivers filled up with petroleum in preparation for the venture into the mountainous region. A sudden rainfall dampened the roads. The wheels got stuck and began to sink in the mud. We were forced to return to our hostel in the village below. We returned soaked, except for the elderly and children who sat in the drivers' cabins.
We set out on our way again in the afternoon. This time, we succeeded in reaching the summit of the mountain. A wide, mountainous plateau spread out before our eyes. It was completely empty and filled with grass at the height of a person. There was no living soul, except for our caravan. We fell asleep. When I woke up it was dark. The people in the trucks slept, but the drivers snuck away and went to the village of Berezovka among the clefts of rocks to sleep. This was at the edge of the Soloneshnoye region, occupying an area of 100 by 80 kilometers. Through the years this region became my second home. I worked there for 15 years. I crossed its length and width, without permission to leave it.
We continued on our multi-faceted journey along the tortuous mountains. Throughout the entire time, the following thoughts never left our minds: Where are they taking us? What awaits us a human life or a dog's life? We arrived in a remote and desolate village of Lyotyevo. This was a large town of wealthy people before the revolution. Later they were exiled from there, and a large area was left abandoned. During the mid 1950s, a tractor and combine station was built there to work the land according to Khrushchev's plan. I was then appointed as the chief bookkeeper. The town grew and even succeeded in getting electricity. In the interim we continued our journey and arrived in the Madbadivka Farms one of the five units that comprised the Karpovsky Sovkhoz. Those traveling in the first truck were designated for that sovkhoz. They remained there at the crossroads. Most of them were Jews from Wilkomir, such as the Peltz, Yaffa, Chait, Riklansky, Janovsky, and Zaks families. The rest were Lithuanians. Of course, I wanted to remain there at the crossroads, where automobile connections were possible, but the reality was otherwise. We would also have preferred that all of the Jonavers remain together in one place, but blind fate also thwarted that desire. We arrived at Komsomolskaya Farm in the evening. All of the Specifraslanskas (our official designation) who were brought there and had traveled by wagon were set up in the small hall of the tiny settlement, which consisted of only seven homes next to the gorge of the small Sholovolicha stream. Among them, there were also Jewish families from Wilkomir young Shapira and his wife, and Krikin and his wife. The tractor driver started the tractor, and we continued our journey to the Balshaya-Tucha Farm. Once again we ascended mountains and glided down trails until we arrived at the farm. The women and children were put up in the hall, and the men and unmarried women in empty granaries. The Jonavers were split up along the way: the Wolfovich family went to Pashchanka Farm to work in cutting trees and transporting them to the sawmill. In the morning, there was once again a thorough search of our belongings. We asked for permission to heat up the bath house so that we could wash up from the filth of the journey. When everything was ready and we prepared ourselves for our bath, we received a command from the director, the crafty Vizinsky, that we must report immediately to work. All of our pleading was for naught. The time was pressing. We must weed the fields and provide food to the front.
I had the opportunity to chat with a group of female workers, natives of the farm. They explained to me how they met the quotas. They would cut down the heads of the thistles with a scythe, and not concern themselves if they also cut down oats We also attempted this method, but with our hands, for the use of tools was forbidden. I requested from the work director that I be transferred to another job. I was sent to work in preparing fodder for the winter.
I worked hard. The heat was great. Drops of sweat rolled down from my face and my body, which was half naked. There was a pail of cold water next to me. I would drink it with thirst. We built up the heap in the middle of the valley. When the base reached a height of two meters, a worker ascended and began to bind the fodder, which I then placed in the heap. As it grew higher, I exchanged the pitchfork for a longer one, which reached four meters in length. The work became more difficult and backbreaking. Our hands trembled, however, we made sure to bind the fodder well so that it would be properly preserved.
One day I received an invitation to appear in the main office of the central farm. I was freed from work, and I walked the ten kilometers by foot. The director received me politely, and invited me for a meal at his house. He treated me to vodka and a modest meal. Then he asked me to become the accounting director of the Komsomolskaya Farm. I agreed on the condition that he would give my family and me an appropriate dwelling. I was promised this, and two weeks later, I moved my mother, my sister and her daughter Uza to the new dwelling. It had a small corridor with a dirt floor. The room itself was nine square meters, with an oven and a shelf for sleeping and suitcases. This was a Garden of Eden compared to the previous conditions.
As I have stated earlier, the farm consisted of seven houses compressed into a narrow valley. Everything was neglected and abandoned on account of the casualness of the local people, and also of course due to the lack of working hands for most of the men had been drafted into the army. We barely received any food provisions aside from bread. We decided to purchase a cow at any price. The price for the cow, Burka was 1000 rubles, a dinner jacket, dresses, pillow cases and sheets. We concluded the sale successfully at the end of August 1941. Burka sustained us throughout the war years and after.
[Drawing page 263: Uncaptioned. A man with a prison outfit, a Star of David and wooden shoes, holding a document or a book.]
In the winter I received a permit to visit my sister Miriam. I traveled in a sleigh hitched to horses. I was furnished with an authorization for an official mission, which enabled me to obtain a train ticket on the Biysk-Barnaul line. I also walked for some of the way. The joy upon meeting my sister was great. I spent two days with her. I went out to the forest with the Kovno natives to help them cut down trees, for I was expert at this for my father was a forestry merchant. The snow was one meter high. The clearing of the area and cutting down the trees was a great effort, but I enjoyed the spectacular site of the pine trees. Miriam had to request a permit to move to us from Barnaul. We parted, and agreed that she would come to us when she received the permit.
One day we received an identity paper from the N.K.V.D. It was a simple piece of paper with personal data. It said that we were only permitted to move in the region of Soloneshnoye. We asked them: For how long? and we were answered, Permanently.
This first death shook us up greatly. We realized that the medical assistance was particularly poor. If we were to be afflicted by serious diseases from whence would our help come? There was one medic for all of the residents of the sovkhoz (approximately 2,000 people) on the central farm.
My sisters Miriam and Rachel with their three children arrived at the end of spring. Our family now numbered nine people. I succeeded in obtaining a larger dwelling. That winter I visited the Jonavers on the Pashchinka Farm for working of forestry products the Wolfovich and Chernman families. Despite the shortage of physicians, the N.K.V.D. did not permit Dr. Mordechai [Wolfovich] to work at his profession. Only after much intercession was he permitted to move to the central town of Soloneshnoye and be appointed as a physician in the regional infirmary.
The war continued on and the situation became more serious. All of the work was done by women, children and the elderly. The death rate among the flocks of cattle, sheep and horses increased due to the lack of fodder. The veterinarian invited me to accompany him in his inspection of the cattle flocks in order to help him care for them. My task was to surround the head of each calf and hold it tight as the injection was given. After the operation we would drink the spirits that were designated for the care of the sheep, and refresh ourselves with black bread, onions, and grains of salt that were designated for the cattle.
My director was exchanged and the new director watched the newspapers closely. There was a great competition among us on this subject. There were no radio receivers, for they had been confiscated at the outbreak of the war. We received all of our news from the newspaper, which came four days late.
Throughout this entire time we barely had any news about what was transpiring in the Jewish world. However, bitter thoughts bothered us and gnawed at the heart. Mother had one meal offering that remained for her a refuge from all of the searches and confiscations. For her the Sabbath was a source of inspiration. She would pray and weep, while this was a regular workday for the rest of the family. In 1943, Mother and our sisters decided to arrange a Passover Seder. There was a great deal of planning. With difficulty, we managed to obtain a bit of dark rye flour. We baked matzos whose appearance was of the darkness of Egypt and Siberia. The meal was simple but festive. Everything was in small portions, but in good taste. We invited several guests who came: the Krikin widow, the Yaffa sisters and Chait from Wilkomir who came from the central farm. We ate, discussed, and talked not about the Exodus from Egypt, but about our travails here in the mountains of Siberia.
In 1942, we found out about the location of Berl Segalovsky, the husband of Leah, who was in an internment camp near the main railway line in the Krasnoyarsk region; and Yosef Dushnitzky, the husband of Rachel, in the region of Archangelsk. Their situation was difficult, and we saw it as our duty to send them food packages. We were receiving packages in growing quantities from our sister Sara in the Land. These permitted us to support our dear ones in the internment camps, as well as easing our own situation. These packages contained clothing, thread, soap, tea and coffee all items that could not be purchased with gold.
We had good fortune and we were able to obtain butter and honey. We also obtained onions, garlic and tobacco in necessary quantities. Our sisters brought the packages to Soloneshnoye or to Biysk, and they sent them by mail.
The director later appointed her as the central cashier. Rachel continued on with the farm work. This enabled her to have some free time on occasion and travel to Biysk in order to send packages. She was our foreign minister.
Leah and mother were occupied with housework: caring for the four children, cooking, and laundry. In addition they tended to the cow, the chickens and the vegetable garden of the size of four dunams. The work in the garden was Mother's duty, and she did it with diligence, love and success. The carrots, beets and onions were first class. Aside from this, we had a potato field on the mountain slope, a distance of two kilometers from the farm. I would turn over the ground for two weeks during the month of May before and after work, and on the day of rest. My sisters came to assist me. This was backbreaking work, but fulfilling, for the field supplied us with potatoes for the winter season. In the final months of the winter, when the supply diminished, I was forced to travel to the town of Solonovka, approximately 35 kilometers away in order to purchase approximately 300 kilograms of potatoes for food and planting, in return for various belongings. The negotiations would last for hours, for we had to go to many houses in order to obtain the necessary quantities. At this time, we would also purchase tobacco, and sometimes also wheat.
After a two hour journey, with my boots turned to pillars of ice and being barely able to feel my feet, I notice a light flickering in a window from afar. Here was the awaited settlement! We were saved! I called to the Russian. We entered the house and I called to mistress of the house, whom I knew: Oksania, save me! My feet are frozen! Her brother, a strong, aging man, advised me to lie beneath the burning furnace. He put my feet inside in order to melt the boots. It was only after a half an hour that I was able to remove the boots. I was fortunate, for only two toes of my right foot were still frozen. I scrubbed them with cold water. I was unable to sleep due to the great sensitivity and pain in my toes. I groaned silently. The gentile also did not sleep, for he was concerned that the wheat would disappear. As for me, my sole interest was about my frozen toes.
The owner of the house went out with us early in the morning in order to help free the sleigh. We equipped ourselves with axes and poles. When we reached the place, we found a frozen pond, sparkling with colors in the first rays of sunlight; however we did not see the sleigh. Suddenly we saw something sticking out of the ice. This was the front, high part of the sleigh. We were encouraged. We cut the ice with axes and dug out the sacks of wheat. We dragged the sacks to a dry place. We freed the sleigh with the help of ropes. We loaded the sacks, harnessed up, and continued on our journey. After this event I was laid up for a month. The medic tended to me with dedication and later I was able to resume my work.
I also had to concern myself with fodder for our cow. I did this on my days of rest. I would go out with a sickle to cut the soft grass. My sisters would go out to help me collect the fodder.
We also had to assist in bringing in the harvest in the autumn. To do this, we would go out to the farms for a week and sleep in the fields. As winter approached we had to prepare reserves of wood. If you got an ox or a horse on the day of rest, you could collect only enough for two weeks. However it was not always possible to obtain these animals and sleighs, despite the will to assist. The weather was also not always appropriate, for there was great cold and snowstorms. This was a battle for existence. You would go out in the morning and return at night frozen, tired and hungry, but with a sense of satisfaction as you looked at the sleigh laden with birch wood fuel for two weeks.
We had to ascend the summit of the mountain, clear the snow near the trees, and use the axe. However, the first blow would not penetrate on account of the cold. Slowly we would overcome the tall birch. I would load the branches with their leaves on the sleigh. The foliage dragging behind served as a brake during the descent from the mountain. Below we would cut the branches, saw the trunk into short blocks, and tie them to the sleigh with ropes. I would walk on foot, for the cold penetrated the bones. At times the load would overturn along the way, and we would have to reload everything. This was my lot and fate for days and years.
On the day when the chairman of the economic cooperative would return from Biysk with a large barrel of liquor, which happened no more than once every three months, the saleswoman would arrange a party. I was always among the guests. The saleswoman had stocks of white flour, meat and butter, and we would eat to our fill, since we were generally always hungry. They would replace the bottles of liquor that were taken from the barrel with water.
In January 1946 we received a telegram that Yosef Dushnitzky, the husband of my sister Rachel, was freed from his internment camp. The joy in our house cannot be described. He arrived emaciated and pale, but he recovered. The director wanted to appoint him as an official in the office, but he refused and went to work in a smithy. We invited guests, and finished off together the bottle of wine that we had saved for this purpose from 1941.
The issue of sending packages troubled us greatly, with the concern for a permit and travel to Biysk. However, in February 1945, Leah received a permit and moved with her daughter Uza to Biysk. From that time, it became easier for us to send packages.
At first, of course, we maintained a business relationship. It was appropriate to keep my distance. However time and emotions did their work: a 35 year old bachelor falls in love like a young man! A cautious approach, a light caress, and many compliments. A quick kiss. She became friendly with my sisters and family. It was pleasant to chat with her. She understood our spirit. Her mother remained in Moscow. Her husband, an engineer, was in the Kolima region of Siberia. Because of his legal status, she did not say whether or not he had been sent to hard labor. She corresponded only with her mother.
With the passage of time we became further connected with intimate relationships. She remained in my place as the director of accounting when I moved to work in the central farm. Every Saturday after work I would walk by foot through the mountain paths, a distance of 5 kilometers, to visit my beloved. I would pick aromatic flowers along the way and give them to the mistress of the house, who accepted them with thanks and love. Galina had a sweet voice. She would sing folk songs, and she accompanied her songs with the guitar. She tried to make my day of rest pleasant with drink, food, and an abundance of expressions of love.
In the summer of 1944, after the liberation of Kovno, my sister Sara in the Land received a letter from Tzvi Levin, who was the sole survivor of his entire family. He was of course interested in the fate of Miriam, the children and the rest of the family. In the subsequent letters he wrote that he had received a position as the fuel director in Kovno. His supervisor was Eliezer Kagan from Jonava. Tzvi wanted to come to us to take Miriam and the children with him. However fate was otherwise. One dark night they knocked on his door, conducted a search, arrested him, and sent him to far off Ural. We waited in vain for letters. After some time they wrote to us that he was imprisoned, and they did not know way. A dark melancholy overtook the residents of our house and the question tormented us: Why, to where, and for what?! Finally, after a few months, the awaited letter arrived from Tzvi. He said that he was in the coal mines in the Sverdlovsk region and was waiting to be freed. He requested food packages.
What is it, miss? my voice echoed through the mountains.
I have just heard that the war ended, she shouted to me with an emotional voice.
Thus is it was in the far off mountains. Without a telephone or a radio, news traveled with the speed of lightning. I hastened back to inform the community and my family of this news. On the farm there was tumult and emotion. People left work and gathered together. I tarried a bit and returned to my journey.
On the journey I was engrossed in all types of visions: we were liberated, and we could go home. Those who were imprisoned in internment camps would follow behind us. We are again in Jonava and Kovno. How good and pleasant will it be for brethren to dwell together. But all of this was a dream while awake. We later had reason to sense that it was not the time to engage in false hope.
In the evening, when I returned home, the joy and exultation was great. Honey and liquor were placed on the table. We gathered together, drank, sang and danced.
After the war, the supervision by the N.K.V.D. became more intense. Was it decreed upon us that we must remain in this place for eternity?
Joy came to our house in April 1947. Tzvi Levin was liberated and came to us pale and emaciated, but healthy and whole. Mother and his wife Miriam took good care of him, so that he would return to his strength and recover from the suffering of the internment camp. He arrived on an official passport and was permitted to travel anywhere he wanted, but his wife and children were not allowed to leave the region. We found out that the N.K.V.D. was going to confiscate our passports, and we made sure to thwart them. We spoke to acquaintances who transported him that very evening the day before the N.K.V.D. was to come to the town of Solonovky, 35 kilometers away. From there he traveled by truck to Biysk, and from there by train to Moscow and Vilna.
That autumn, Leah secretly obtained train tickets without her neighbors knowing, and she left Biysk and the Altai Krai permanently along with her daughter and mother. Then came the turn of Miriam and her children. She requested permission from the N.K.V.D. to move to Biysk. The pretext was the education of her son. The requested permit arrived. I bid farewell to Miriam and her children. I was like a father to them during the war. From Biysk they set out directly to Vilna. Rachel and her family also went there from Novosibirsk.
In 1948, I was appointed as the accounting supervisor of 40 kolkhozes, and we had to move to the central town. My salary was lower than that in the sovkhoz, where I also had received all types of provisions. Here, I was like a synagogue mouse [1]
I wandered from one kolkhoz to the next, most of the time by vehicle, but sometimes on foot, a distance of 40 kilometers. I worked in that position for two years. I saw the people of the kolkhozes at work, in their houses, and in their times of joy. I knew that their lives were not easy at all. As a result of this, they related to their work with indifference. After all the inspections, I reported the findings to the director of the kolkhoz. A general meeting would then be called, and I, Yitzchak the son of David, preached words of reproof to the local Ivans.
I returned to my office after each inspection. Zoya, who worked as a secretary in the financial office of the director of the region, would type my report with a typewriter. It would then be discussed by the local council.
In the months of August and September I was busy, along with other officials, in the preparation of fodder for the horses that were owned by our office. We would put up huts out of branches and straw, similar to tents. We lived in them. We cut the grass with sickles. I would cut for our own cow at night until midnight, and also in the morning. In addition, we had to work at various communal endeavors, such as removing the ice from the channel that brought water to the hydroelectric plant, so that there would be no interruption of the flow of electricity.
I was dismissed from my job in 1950. I was satisfied with this, for I was tired of the sleeping over, the journeys and the walking to strange places on snowy, muddy and icy days and during snowstorms, when the river water rose and I could only cross by lying on my horse who swam across the water, with the danger that we might be swept away by the current.
Later I found out that that the first secretary of the party in the region was opposed that I the spoiler of rights and from the bourgeois class should be the inspector of kolkhozes and find out too much about what was doing with them and what their situation was, which was evident at every inspection.
Before that there were many thefts. There was no such event throughout the two years that I worked there. I conducted audits. I spoke earnestly to the staff, urging them to fulfill their duties and thereby profit. Indeed thus it was. Their salary increased, and they were satisfied. The sudden inspections of the N.K.V.D. were in vain. From that time, they would send me out for an inspection at any incidence of corruption in the region. Since I had worked in the sovkhoz for seven years, it was not hard for me to uncover any cunning tactics. Workers of the sovkhoz, who were jealous of the drunks and thieves, would come to my assistance and provide me with information. The source of the theft was the excess that was hoarded by the keepers of the warehouses. They would take that to the black market.
At the end of 1952, I was appointed as chief accounting director of the new tractor station in the town of Lyutayevo, approximately 40 kilometers from the regional town along the way to Biysk. This was during the year that Khrushchev decided the scope of labor.
At that time, the N.K.V.D. began to follow us more closely, because no small number of people like us uprooted themselves from their places of exile and escaped back to Lithuania. Among them were my mother and sisters. Therefore I wrote to my family in an indirect manner. They searched after them in Vilna, and Leah was imprisoned twice. Finally they became disgusted with the entire matter, and they moved to the city of Frunze in Kirgizia: the Levin, Dushnitzky and Segalovsky families 11 souls led by mother. All of this was made possible by the assistance that was provided to us by our sister Sara in Israel
I found out about the events of the world from the following newspapers: the Altai Truth, Pravda, and Izvestia. From them I found out about the War of Independence and the State of Israel. The articles were brief, but supportive of Israel.
I digested the news. I did not have anyone with whom to discuss the events. I would reconstruct them in my mind in my bed at night.
My first stop in Biysk was at the home of our fellow native, Avraham Jochovsky. At night I knocked on his door, which was locked with seven locks. The joy of our meeting was great. After a meal and glasses of liquor, we sat and chatted until dawn. The topic was the Land of Israel. He knew much more than I.
I was a regular guest of the Abramovich family in Barnaul. There, I would listen to the radio and hear the news from Jews about the Jewish State.
When I returned, I was occupied and immersed in the small town reality, with its problems that had become my problems. There was no small number of negative characters who came to the region among the volunteers. Some squandered the money that they had received in advance and attempted to escape. I had an additional job to pursue the wanderers and initiate legal proceedings to have the money returned.
As time went on, they built a two room house for me. The economic conditions improved. I received a salary of 1,200 rubles and Zoya received 600 rubles. We continued to maintain our own auxiliary farm. We would prepare fodder and bring it with a tractor.
The year was 1953, the year of the Doctors' Plot[2]. The atmosphere was very tense and oppressive. Many people were fired from their jobs at that time. I do not know to this day how I succeeded in retaining my high position.
{Photo page 271: In Siberia. 1. Yitzchak Burstein, 2. Miriam Burstein. 3. Zoya.}
We spent a month in Frunze. We walked through its streets. We visited its markets that were full of fruit, vegetables, watermelons and food items about which we could only dream in Siberia.
(Continued on page 273)
[Page 272]
Kovno, August 19, 1944 I do not know how to begin. I lack words. From all of our large family only I remain Some perished in the ghetto and others were hauled to Germany. I survived by a miracle.
I found out five months ago that the Gestapo was plotting to arrest me because I was involved with smuggling young Jews to partisan units in the forests of the area. I succeeded in escaping from the ghetto, and I hid with farmers in the villages of the region as well as in Kovno.
It is a sufficiently gloomy picture. Of the 38,000 Jews who were concentrated in the Kovno Ghetto, only about 500 survived. The ghetto was burnt and bombed by the Nazis.
Now, about my last hope, what is the fate of Miriam and my two children? If they are alive, you certainly have contact with them. Please tell me the entire truth, good or bad.
Please answer quickly
My first visit in the Land was with my childhood friend Shimon Zak in Jerusalem.During the conversation he turned to me and said:
Did you find the picture of the opening of the University which was hanging on the wall of your room in Jonava?We went there.
No, and no. Everything was lost.
After 40 years from the founding of the University, I saw that exact picture in a photographer store window display on Ben Yehuda Street.
The photographer showed us two pictures and said.
My father took this picture. I will not give up the large picture under any circumstances, but you can have the small one.I paid some money and took it as a souvenir.
And here it is before you.
Yitzchak B. is noted in the center of the photograph *
* See the top of page 275
{Uncaptioned. The photograph mentioned on the previous page.}
[Second unnumbered page after 272. NYPL 382.]
The first letter of Yitzchak Burstein from Siberia to his sister Sara in Israel (abridged)
{Note: the original letter in Russian is photocopied on top of the page.}
To my dear ones. We reached here on July 10. We left Jonava on a special train on June 17. With me are Mother, Leah and her daughter Uza. We are healthy and working. Father was ill and remained at home. Dov Segalovsky along with other men traveled on a different train in a different direction. Along with him were Aryeh and Tzvi Wolfovich, Avraham Jochovsky, Nissan Goldshmidt and Shmuel Chernman. Rachel and Yosef Dushnitzky were taken from Jonava on June 14. I went to their house in the evening and found it closed. Miriam Levin and her children apparently remained in Kovno. We are located 130 kilometers from the train station of the city of Biysk. We and almost all of the Jonavers are located in the Karpova Sovkhoz. These include: Batya Goldshmidt (nee Perevoznik), Malka Jochovsky, Yochel Chernman, Mordechai, Bunia, Teibl and Meir Wolfovich, and Masha Namiot, the wife of Tzvi Wolfovich.
I am concerned that Father and perhaps Miriam and her children remained under Nazi rule I understand that neither you nor we can get in touch with Father. We will wait until Hitler is defeated at the end of the war.
Jonavers in Vilna and in the Land. In Vilna taking leave of Yitzchak Burstein:
Chaya Leah Druker (Monosevich), Shlomo Druker, Shlomo Ber Meirovich, Leizer Glazer, David Friedman and his wife, Avraham Jochovsky, Batya Namiot, Yitzchak, the wife of Shlomo Ber, Rivka Simchovich, Batya Goldshmidt-Perevoznik, Malka Jochovsky.
{Bottom photo: In the Land at the wedding of the daughter of Nachum Blumberg.}
The First postcard that arrived in the Land from Miriam Levin-Burstein from Siberia
Please let me know the address of family members if you know them.
[Page 273][3]
We liked Frunze. We returned to our place and requested a permit to move to Frunze. In October 1955, we set out on a journey in a truck belonging to the tractor station.
Farewell to you, Altai Mountains! Thank you for the bad and the good!After 15 years of ascending and descending the Altai Mountains I remained alive, healthy and whole, and I succeeded in reuniting with my family that is why I felt the duty to do what I did.
We remained in Biysk for two days with Jochovsky and met Chernman, who in the interim had remarried.
From there we traveled to Barnaul. We stayed with the Wolfovich family. The mistress of the house Teibl was no longer alive, but I found a Jonavan atmosphere. We shared memories with Leiba, Mordechai and Bunia.
We finally arrived in Frunze. Mother had obtained for us a room with a kitchenette, 12 square meters in area. I found work in the Ministry of Building, and continued to work there for approximately ten years.
Nechama Lifschitz came to Frunze. I purchased a ticket and went to listen to Yiddish folksongs in the theater after a hiatus of 15 years. I will never forget that evening. When I saw the hall full of Jews applauding enthusiastically, the impression on me was very great. I wept. I was unable to stem the tears. The second time she came to us she was brazen enough to sing a Hebrew song. The thunderous applause roared through the air for several minutes.
I must admit that anyone who wished to go to worship or to circumcise his son was not bothered by the Soviet authorities. Nevertheless, I must also state that the Star of David that was hanging at the entrance of the courtyard of the House of Worship suddenly disappeared, and in 1964, the recitation of Next Year in Jerusalem after Yom Kippur ceased in accordance with a directive from the government authorities for religious matters. Apparently this was in reaction to the wave of national awakening of the Jews.
I became acclimatized to Frunze. I had a fruit garden that required care. Berl Segalovsky and I dedicated each Sunday, the official day of rest, to that end. We were not short of firewood. We also plastered our own walls. It was impossible to hire professionals for such work due to our low salaries.
The three families from Jonava Burstein, Segalovsky and Levin lived as neighbors, with Mother at the head. On Sabbath eves we would sit at the table, covered with a white tablecloth, adorned with candles. I would recite Kiddush in father's tune of course with aberrations and dissonance.
In the winter of 1957, my wife's son, who concluded his studies, arrived from Novosibirsk with his wife and stayed with us. We lived together in a 12 square meter room: we on the bed and they on the floor. In 1960 I enlarged the dwelling to 20 square meters. I knocked down the wall with my own hands, and dug the excavation and poured the foundation myself. Similarly, I did all the painting and glasswork. I was assisted by other builders and by a friend for other work. I received the building materials from the ministry for a cheap price.
We remained in Moscow for a week. We went every evening to mother in the hotel, ate together and discussed memories. The day of parting arrived. Mother wept silently, as if she suspected that this was her final meeting with Sara. We returned to Frunze by airplane a five hour flight. This was mother's last journey. She died in May 1964. A few days before her death she adjured me to attempt to leave Russia, to go to the Land and to gather together all of the members of the family.
{Drawing page 274: Uncaptioned. An elderly woman. (Translator's comment likely Yitzchak's mother.)
[Page 275]
Then there was the festive celebration, conducted with great emotion: Before my eyes were the great ones and spiritual leaders of the nation (see the photo after page 272).
I was once again in Jonava. I continued my variegated activities, and I assisted Father in his business.
I fell in love with Rosa Kagan, the beautiful brunette with modest sex appeal, a scion of a good family and a cultured girl. Only a tremor in the corner of her upper lip gave expression to her hidden desires, to the modest beginning of motion on the volcano. I courted her for two years. The only thing that was lacking was a formal engagement. Suddenly events took their course and we parted. We remained friends. My heart always aches for the fact that she did not succeed in her life, by going after the fiancé of her youth.
I was also unlucky. Out of my great despair I fell into the arms of a married woman, a demonic woman with blue eyes, with an overflowing and immodest sex drive, lacking discreteness. I was attracted to her because there were no other options, based on the adage and she will rule over you. Her family life was stormy. I attempted to calm her with intimate relations, and I spoke to her heart for her to desist, but she did what she wanted. After some time she again snared me with her spread-out spider web. This stolen love lasted for ten years. Stolen waters might become sweet. The end of this era came only at the time of the arrival of the Russians
How pleasant it is to remember events of childhood, youth, and young adulthood!
Yitzchak, do you remember when I, as a Comsomol member in Jonava, went to Kovno in order to send you to exile in Siberia? This time I will accompany you and seat you in a train that will take you to the Land. He said it and did it. The next evening, at the time of parting at the train station, he came to the fore from the side, grabbed me in his strong arms, and brought me up to the train. The train was taking me and Shlomo Levin, the son of my sister Miriam, to Minsk. From there I would go to Moscow on my own. After much toil, which is a story in its own right, I ascended the threshold of the Embassy of Israel. Behold, I was in the lobby of the embassy. Nobody was there. On the small table there was an abundance of periodicals and brochures. Everything was in Hebrew. Was this a dream or reality? I forgot the reason that I had came and immersed myself in reading. Nobody came. There was a bizarre quiet.
I knocked on one of the doors and entered. An embassy employee greeted me and asked me to sit down. He clarified for me that the address of the embassy was written in my passport. He advised me to fly by airplane but I preferred to travel to Warsaw by train, and then to go to Vienna via Czechoslovakia. On December 23, [1965] I arrived in Lod on an El Al airplane.
[Page 276]
Translated by Jerrold Landau
{Photo page 276: Uncaptioned. Batya Perevoznik Goldshmidt}
Our brick kiln, which was owned in partnership with my Uncle David Yitzchak, was nationalized immediately after the proclamation of the Soviet guard. We were left bereft of an economic base.
I decided to leave home and to get married to my childhood friend Nissan Goldshmidt, an official with Segalovsky, whose enterprise was also nationalized. I got a job with the thought of beginning a quiet life appropriate to the times. However, this was not to be my fate.
Late at night on June 14, 1941, we were awakened to the sound of knocking on our door. To our question, Who is there?, someone declared in Russian, Open up, we are from the N.K.V.D.. Two of them broke into our small room with pointed guns, accompanied by Reuven Vidzky of the Comsomol Youth. They conducted a thorough search and ordered us to prepare for a journey within 20 minutes. We were permitted to take up to 100 kilograms of belongings. In the darkness of the night, we were hauled to the train station in a truck, accompanied by soldiers. We were forbidden to bid farewell to our parents and relatives. We were brought into a transport car, the doors were closed with bars and locks, and a Soviet guard guarded us.
At a young age, lacking in experience, innocent of wrongdoing, and suddenly I bore the mark of a criminal. Why and for what reason? Where were we going? Large question marks floated before my eyes. I was broken. My world darkened upon me. I wept bitterly and screamed, Mother!.
The next day, my mother, father, brothers and sisters appeared. They stood at a distance. They were not permitted to approach. Through the mesh window I could see them weeping as they peered into the cage in which the bird, the apple of their eye, was imprisoned.
The next day, at one of the stops in the darkness of the night, they knocked on the door and asked for Nissan. He was ordered to leave the train. Thus my lad, with whom I had hoped to share my fate in the new exile, was cut off from me. I never saw him again. He perished in the Rashuty Camp in 1942. I remained alone, alone as is written in the Book of Job, A fire of G-d has fallen from heaven and burned the flocks and lads and consumed them, and I remain alone
Yitzchak [Ben-David (Burstein)] already wrote about the tribulations of the journey and my life in the Altai Mountains throughout the year. I will not repeat it.
I will describe in brief what transpired with me in the far-off, frigid Yakutsk region.
At times, a person needs to be stronger than iron if he wishes to continue to live and to come to better days.
[First unnumbered page following page 276. NYPL 389.]
Members of Beitar of Jonava: Levi Perevoznik, Nissan Goldshmidt, Yehudit Ferber, Dina Kapol, Yocheved Kahansky, Batya Senior, Moshe Namiot, Batya Perevoznik, Tzvi Suntochky, Babilsky, Biarsky, Yaakov Kapol.
{Bottom photo}
The Siberian winter in the endless forests. Batya writes about her daily routine.
Batya Goldshmidt among the woodchoppers of Yakutsk in Siberia.
1. Batya. 2. Shimon Shapira of Wilkomir.
{Bottom photo}
The expanses of the endless forests and the woodchoppers.
1. Batya.
Batya at work, and measuring rations.
[Page 277]
In August 1942, we received a command from the N.K.V.D. that all of the families who do not have small children should prepare to leave the Karpova Sovkhoz. Wagons hitched to horses were sent. We loaded our belongings, and walked on foot to the city of Biysk, accompanied by the N.K.V.D. guards who were riding on horses. The Wolfovich family and Masha Namiot were with me. The journey lasted for three days. In Biysk we learned that we would be taken to the region of the Arctic Ocean, to the Tiksi point on the Lena River, a journey of 4,000 kilometers. We proceeded to Barnaul and Novosibirsk on open transport trucks, and from there, we boarded the Trans-Siberian railway. After a week of travel we arrived at the Osterovo railway station. From there we continued in trucks on an uncharted route through mountains and valleys, for hundreds of kilometers until the water mill on the Angara River. There, they loaded us like cattle and sheep upon transport barges, and after three days we arrived in a place not far from the port of Mukhtuya (Lensk) on the Lena River.
We transferred to a larger ship, and after we traversed more than 1,000 kilometers in a seven day journey along the downstream of the Lena, we arrived at the port of Olekminsk.
We, a group of four families numbering ten souls, were put up in a room of 12 square meters. The day after our arrival, we went out to work in the taiga that extends the length of the Lena River. Our work was to prepare firewood for the ships. We received portions of bread according to rations. Since we were not used to this type of work under these conditions, we did not reach the quota, and were starving for bread. The cold was minus 40, and it exhausted our strength.
As I was at the threshold of despair, I recalled the admonitions of Yitzchak [Burstein] who was our work director at the time we worked in the fields of the Altai Mountains. If you wish to remain alive you must work well, and whoever acts otherwise will have a bitter end. These words were spoken in the heat of an argument with Yochel Chernman, and her end is known. Thus did I act. I never refused to perform all of the work that was imposed upon me the backbreaking labor of men. I withstood the test. I had to do so, for I had no relative, no redeemer, and no packages from abroad.
I was transferred to Berezova, also on the Lena, at the end of 1942. There I worked in setting up barges. We would roll tree trunks to the water, and I would ascend the blocks of wood and tie them together. We would tie them six rows high. The barges on the Viliya seemed as toys in contrast to the barges that we prepared. I was the only Jewess there. The Lithuanians there were in the same Specifraslanska situation as I was.
In the autumn we took down the storehouses that served as our residences, loaded them on barges and floated them down the river to a place that was called Delgey. We re-erected our houses in the vast forests with our own hands. Two Jewish families from Wilkomir joined us (Shimon Shapira and his wife, today in Neve Sharet, and the Krem family).
I continued working at cutting down trees, making barges, and other backbreaking work until 1948. I became an accomplished professional. In 1947 I received a government prize for dedicated work during the wartime years.
We again packed up and moved 200 kilometers further to opposite the city of Olekminsk. I continued my work of tree cutting in the winter and producing barges during the summer. The system of food ration cards was revoked, and the situation in that region improved.
I was appointed to head staff in 1952. I breathed easily. A heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders. My job was to allocate the workplaces and to register the quotas. The shortage of workers was made up with political prisoners who were freed after serving their sentences in the prison camps of the Kolyma Peninsula. Without any way to continue their journey home during the winter season when the only means of exit from this area of Siberia was by boat, they tarried with us in order to earn some money before continuing onward. These people were a part of our staff during the long winter.
During the well-known Doctors' Plot of Stalin in 1953, I was suddenly fired from my high office as an official in the forest, and sent back to physical labor, which I continued until June 1956.
That year, thanks to my government prize, I was informed that my designation of Specifraslanska was removed from me, along with all types of restrictions. I received an identity card with the Hebrew designation, and I was permitted to move throughout all of Russia, with the exception of Soviet Lithuania and an area of 100 kilometers around the capital cities of the Soviet republics.
I seized the opportunity and left the Yakutsk Region. Despite the ban, I went to Vilna. Shmuel Balnik (today in Ramat Hanasi, Bat Yam), a member of the party, with a high government position in the milk combine (like Tnuva), set me up with work and assisted me in registering with the Vilna police as a resident with full rights.
I did not find any members of my family. I immediately began to take interest in immigrating to the Land. I fought for this right for 12 years, and I only received my permit in 1969.
I spent 15 years of my youth in the taiga of the Yakutsk Region, in conditions of terrible cold, fierce snow storms, freezing fog, malnourishment, and backbreaking work which was the work of men. I, the sole Jewess, strode through endless forests up to my knees in deep snow in the winter and in the ice cold water of the Lena in the summer, working together with men, the vast majority of whom were criminals, thieves and murderers and all of this in order to come to better days.
180 months, which are 6480 days and nights without a relative or a redeemer! Days and nights filled with tribulations, frustrations, delusions and desires of a young soul; days and nights of lack of sleep and fear of the N.K.V.D. who wanted to capture me in their net and embrace me with a life of danger, slander and causing harm to others. Then they would treat me with a candy.
My conscience remains clear. I struggled with them and succeeded.
[Page 278]
Translated by Jerrold Landau In the vast forests, in the desolation of the snow, white prevails. Walls of grey tree branches, adorned with piles of snow, close in from both sides. On the fourth side is the vast span, covered with a white desert, sparkling like ice in the dim light of the moon. This is at the banks of the gigantic Lena River, spreading out below our feet the silence and splendor of the works of creation.
In this open region, in this ice, an altar was prepared for me upon which I offered my energies and my youth.
The chimneys of the barracks which house us Specifraslanskas stuck up skyward. There were about 20 other small wooden huts for the rest of the workers. The chimneys spewed smoke.
It was 5:00 a.m. The early risers had already lit the large oven and were warming the soup, prepared from the previous day. During the night, the strong cold penetrated into the barracks. The windows were covered with a layer of thick ice that was beginning to melt.
I woke up. I breathed in the cold air and tarried in getting up. I had not slept enough. However, the hunger was gnawing at the stomach and the head, and I involuntarily crawled out from beneath the warm blanket.
The light of the dim lantern spread its shadows around. Along the length of the walls were twelve wooden shelves, one meter wide each. These were the wooden beds, called the nars. Beside each such bed, attached to the wall, was a wooden shelf. This was the food corner. The passage between the beds was half a meter, and beneath them all of one's property: suitcases and sacks from the parental home.
The iron oven with its tin pipes reaching up to the chimney was already burning, red from the fire. The wooden beds hung down from the ceiling on both sides of it, and above it were the tattered clothes that were hung up the previous evening while they were still wet, and now they were dry. A small pull, and my patched pants made out of cotton and my pupikia[4] were in my hands, warm and dry. I slid into them, took a few cups of soup and bread, sipped a cup of tea and already the gigantic bell (brought from some church), hanging on the pillar in the middle of the field was pealing and breaking the silence. It was time to go out to work. I tarried a bit. Immediately the barrack supervisors castigated me with shouting and curses:
Hurry, daughter of a bitch, lest you be late for work.
It was still dark outside. Only the stars were shining above, as if they were blessing those going out. How beautiful and frightful was the world around. We went out on foot into the recesses of the sleepy forest. Snow fell at night. The paths were covered and disappeared. Again we dug a new furrow through the cover of snow. We marched through the darkness for an hour. We got hot. The sweat rolled down from under the headgear on the forehead and dripped onto the eyes. The fog was heavy. The minus 50 degrees cold weighed down upon us.
We reached the place of the cutting. We spread out two by two in all directions of the wide area. I and my work partner, a Lithuanian gentile, approached one of the silent trees whose foliage was still enveloped in darkness. We quickly removed the pile of snow around its roots until we got to the layer of frozen ground. I used the axe to slowly chop chips of the trunk until the appropriate depth. Then I moved to the other side and used the saw. We kneeled on our knees or stood bent over, monotonously pulled the saw, and cut this gigantic tree with a humming sound. A small groan was heard. We jumped to the side. The pine tree slowly leaned downward. One more minute, and the giant fell over, raising a flurry of snow. Now we cut the branches with axes, gathered them into a pile, and lit them. The trunk was cut according to the standard measurements. Our quota was eight cubic meters, which was made up by 30-40 trees.
Lunchtime approached. We removed the piece of frozen bread from our sacks and placed it on a wooden twig next to the bonfire to toast it. We also melted snow in a cup. The water boiled and the tea was ready. After an hour of rest, we returned to work.
It was 4:45 in the afternoon. The work was registered by an official of the office. They signed the document and the fate of the quota of bread and of life was decreed upon you. We cast a glance around, there had been a forest and now there was a dead field. It was time to return home. The light was dimming. The sun disappeared behind the treetops. The cold deepened. The pants, pupikia, felt boots and gloves were damp from sweat and the deep snow. I quickened my pace, and in my head there was one thought: hot soup and fresh bread.
When we arrived at the small field we hastened into line at the small store in order to receive our ration of bread: 600-800 grams. Once a month we also received other provisions: a kilogram of sugar, two kilograms of grits, 700 grams of butter, a small bag of tea and two small bags of machorka for smoking. When there was no butter we would receive a kilogram of horse meat in lieu of each 100 grams.
We removed our work clothes when we entered the barracks. Everything was hung to dry. The oven was lit, and the elderly people and children who had remained there had already prepared their meals. We snatched our places near the oven. Whoever was unable to cook their meal had their pot pushed to the side. It was now the turn of the people of the forest.
The meal was ready. I devoured my delicacies but I did not have the feeling of satiation. I arrived hungry and remained hungry. There was no radio or newspapers, and all sorts of rumors were spread. Everyone jumped in and said what he wanted. The Lithuanians spread fabricated stories about the German victories. The gnawing in the heart grew. Aside from these stories, we heard words of argument, strife and slander.
It was 9:00 p.m. I hastened to my bed, fell asleep and dreamed about food, love, and days and years gone by.
Tomorrow is another day of work. One of thousands like it.
[Page 280]
The teacher Riva Shalovich, the organizer of the adoption activities, tells:
I was raised with the stories and memories, as my late mother used to tell and describe, so that to me, Jonava became a living and well-known town, even though I only spent the first two years of my life there.
The commemoration ceremony was organized on the 9th of Tevet, 5730 (1970). The occasion was particularly impressive and very moving. The guests - including many Jonava natives - felt anew the experiences of those days, and could not stop the emotions that came to the fore.
The ceremony left a great impression even upon the students who played an active part in or witnessed the proceedings, to the point where they were able to identify with the fate of the people of the town. This is expressed through their impressions:
I felt literally as one of the survivors of Jonava. Tears began to flow from my eyes, writes Rivka Shami.
Chaya Loberbaum also testifies to this, I felt as if I was in that town of Jonava and participated in all the experiences The identification filled my entire essence This evening imparted a great deal to me and to all those who were present.
The rests of the students in the booklet confirm this.
On the memorial day on the 9th of Tevet 5731 (1971), the memorial corner, that is the perpetuation room, in which the students invested a great deal of work and dedication, was opened.
The ceremony began with the words of the school principal Rachel Angel. Then, Menachem Levin and Yitzchak Burstein spoke. A representative of Yad Vashem also spoke.
{Photo page 280: Uncaptioned. The ceremony. The banner at the top reads, I have made a vow to remember everything. To remember, speak and not forget.}
[Frst unnumbered page after 280]
{Photos page 281: The Perpetuation Room of the Community of Jonava of Lithuania. - three photos.}
[Second unnumbered page after 280]
{Top photo: At the memorial in the Geulim School of Bat Yam, which adopted our town of Jonava. The dais: Zeev Ofek, Y[itzchak]. Burstein, Rabbi Aryeh Lifshitz, the representative of Yad Vashem, principal Rachel Angel, teacher Riva Shalovich - a Jonava native, the daughter of Yentl Solomin, teacher Maoz Shefi.}
{Bottom photo: Jonava natives and the parents of the students.}
[Third unnumbered page after 280]
{Two photos with caption in between: The female students presenting a performance about the fate of the Jews of Jonava.}
[Fourth unnumbered page after 280]
{Top photo: Students of the school at a play on the memorial day.}
{Bottom photo: The students listening to the words of Zeev Ofek. Next to him is the principal Rachel Angel.}
[Page 281]
Many students participated in the performance. They gave expression to their identification in skits, words, and song. Actor Meir Tsoref [Goldshmidt] read an excerpt from Holocaust literature.
This was a ceremony of unity that left a strong impression on all the participants.
On top of all this, we express our esteem and thanks to the efforts of those who led and carried out the adoption efforts - the teachers and students together.
For strengthening our hands - let your hands be strengthened!
Translated by Jerrold Landau A large group gathered from various places in the Land. They came especially to participate in a memorial evening for the general Holocaust Day, and to open a perpetuation room for the community of Jonava of Lithuania that was wiped out in the Holocaust.
It was obvious that the evening was very precious to everyone. Many years have passed since then, but the memory of the town with all its personalities and people is etched upon the hearts of everyone as a living picture. The gathering evoked memories of youth that ended in pain and great sadness.
The perpetuation room was opened for visitors. The small room includes so much in it - a full world of the life that once was. I looked at the faces of the visitors. Emotion overtook them. They were searching for faces and childhood landscapes that they recognized in the pictures. Stories and trivia were dredged up from the recesses of the past. It was hard to leave the place.
One felt that one was situated in a corner of communion with the destroyed home of one's parents; a corner that is the connecting link between that generation that witnessed the events of the Holocaust with its own flesh and the younger generation that grew up free and secure -- children who attempted to the best of their ability to understand the magnitude of the tragedy, and to feel the pain of the nation.
The adults feel gratitude toward the following generation who are learning to recognize the Jewish towns of the European Diaspora by delving into stories of the life in the town.
Let this be their comfort, and it is no small comfort, for all those who lost their dear ones and for those who survived the Nazi inferno.
By Riva Shalovich,
[Page 281]
Translated by Jerrold Landau I was deeply impressed by the perpetuation room, as if we had been in that community of Jonava (Elana Zavdon).
We heard the sounds of weeping from among the audience present at the ceremony. Our tears also choked our throats. It was only with great difficulty that we held them back. Our part in the ceremony came. We ascended the stage with the feeling that we were part of those people. I must admit that we did not fully understand the meaning of the word Holocaust; but after we had heard from the natives of the town what had happened to that community and its people, our hearts were filled with feelings of honor and understanding for them, and for all the people of the Jewish communities who were overtaken by the Nazi destruction.
(Yitzchak Levi)
From the impressions of the students present at the perpetuation ceremony, from the same publication.
[Page 282]
{Photo page 282: Uncaptioned. Children in front of a picture of the town.}
The memorial ceremony opened a wound that may not heal. Perhaps? Is it possible to forget?
The burning question: How could such an atrocity have taken place?
The drama club of our school put on a performance of a chapter of lives of the children in the ghetto, which brought us to tears. It was obvious that memories were brought forth in the hearts of the audience. I attempted to control my tears, with the prayer in my heart that such a Holocaust never be repeated, that we will never again have to weep over communities of Israel.
Orli Mendelson, a grade 8 student.
On the 9th of Tevet 5732 (1972), we gathered together to recall the victims of the Holocaust, as is our custom.
The ceremony began with the reading of Yizkor, and the recital of Kaddish and Kel Maleh Rachamim[1].
Mr. Shani spoke in the name of Yad Vashem. The editor of the book of Jonava, Shimon Noy, spoke about unique stories of the Jews of the town, the youth, and expression of resistance[2].
The actor Meir Tsoref [Goldshmidt] read sections of the book of Jonava and described some of his personal wartime experiences. His words were spoken in Yiddish and were directed primarily to the new immigrants.
The dramatic club of the school, under the direction of Ruth Lifschitz, presented skits of the life of the children in the ghetto. The material of the skits was culled from the books The Children of Mapu Street, and There are no Butterflies Here.
The meeting between the youth who grew up in the Land and did not know the terrors of the ghetto with the natives of the town blew a spirit of support and hope into all those present.
With this, we fulfill the commandment: Remember, and do not forget! We also emphasize that such a Holocaust will never take place again.
Riva Shalovich, the coordinator of the adoption effort.
[Page 283]
Translated by Jerrold Landau We were both born in Jonava, and we were approximately the same age. I knew Yitzchak (Itzel) already from his childhood, even though we did not study in the same school, for, in accordance with the will of his father, he received a more religious education that I was given.
When we returned to Jonava at the end of 1921 after the expulsion, I met Yitzchak in Kovno as a student of the Real Hebrew Gymnasium. In 1922, we were both accepted to the medical school of the Lithuanian University. The friendship between us strengthened. We sat on the same school bench for two years, always did our practical work in the same group, and prepared for exams together. In 1924, he decided to continue his studies in France. We met again in Strasbourg. He moved to Paris in 1926, where he completed his studies.
When I returned to Lithuania in 1932, I found that Yitzchak had established a family in the interim, and served as a physician in the Lithuanian Army.
{Photo page 283: Uncaptioned. Yitzchak, with a wife and two children.}
He made aliya with his family to the Land in 1933. I made aliya in 1934. He remained in Tel Aviv, and I joined a Kibbutz. We met on occasion, and I always enjoyed my encounters with my old friend.
In 1941, fate brought us together once again. We were drafted into the British Army as physicians. Yitzchak was sent to Egypt, and I was sent to Sudan and Ethiopia. In 1943, I received the news that Yitzchak was no longer alive. He had fallen in October, 1942
The following are some of his personality traits, as are guarded in my memory. First of all, he was particular and diligent. If he set times to study, nothing could move him from his learning. He had internal integrity. He would carry through to completion anything that he believed in. He was exacting in fulfilling the commandment of the produce of the Land. Despite the fact that he was well off, tall, strong and handsome, he did not desire to stand out and did not take any pride in doing so.
The strand of his life was snuffed out in his prime, when he was only in his early 40s.
May his memory be a blessing.
[Page 284]
Translated by Jerrold Landau
{Photo page 284 right: Yerubaal Lavie}
Yerubaal, the son of Rachel (nee Zisla) and Shlomo Lavie-Levkovitz, was born on the 1st of Tammuz 5684 (1924). He was born, raised and educated in Ein Harod. He was orphaned from his mother during his childhood. He was modest in his deportment and upright and of pure heart in his way of life. From his childhood, he was known as being responsible and dedicated to any matter to which he was given responsibility. When he left school, he participated in farm work and the course of life. He was active in local defense activities. His regular work was in the shed. He enlisted in the Hebrew Brigade of the British Army in the latter part of 1944. His stops included Sarafand[1], Egypt, Italy, Austria, Belgium, Holland, and France. When he returned from the army, he joyfully returned to the work of the farm and the realities of life at home. He was employed as an orchard worker. In the latter, turbulent period, he found his role in defense, and dedicated himself to this with his full energy and strength. He became known as a competent leader and filled his role of company commander with responsibility. On the 8th of Adar II, 5708 (1948), he hurried the reinforcements to assist his friends in the Battle of Gilboa and fell.
{Photo page 284 left: Hillel Lavie}
Hillel the son of Rachel and Shlomo was born in Ein Harod on 11 Av, 5689 (1929). His mother died when he was a year and three months old.
From his childhood, he stood out from among his friends in his independence and storied spirit. With the passage of time, when he set out with his classmates from the school and entered the farm along with his friends, he naturally became the center of the group, and the instigator of the spiritual and social activities of his friends.
He chose work in the home garden as his regular occupation.
With the outbreak of the disturbances and the war, he immediately played an active role, at first among the local ranks and later as a leader and trainer of youths and adults. He participated in the Battle of Gilboa in which his older brother fell. Then, he was sent to a national course for leaders. On the night of the invasion, he volunteered to go from the course to the incursion unit of the Palmach in the Negev, and participated in all of its daring activities.
He set out in a convoy of jeeps to bring help to Kfar Darom on June 6, 1948, after the first ceasefire. On his return from the village, on 7 Sivan, 5708 (1948), he was hit by an Egyptian shell.
His body was brought to burial in the soil of Ein Harod on the first anniversary of his death.
Hillel was born to a mother - oh, what can one say about this mother? Wellspring of love flowed from her to all that surrounded her. With all these, she was able to keep the depths of the wellsprings of her love for her children
In one of the letters that she wrote to the father of her children when he was away from home for a few days, we find a praise for Hillel: -- -- -- Now I think, how great is the power of the children, as I think of Hillel, I feel that all the chambers of my heart are filled with light, joy, and love. It seems to me as if the light of the sun and the chirping of the birds exist only in the merit of children. Everything is wonderful in its beauty and goodness
We called him Hillel. She said that our oldest son is called Yerubaal. He will destroy the idols[2], and he will be the heir to your fighting spirit This one will be my heir, like Hillel the Elder in Jewish tradition; he will seek peace, calm, and love.
This was the mother of our children.
[Page 285]
Translated by Jerrold Landau {Photo page 284: Lieutenant Mordechai Herman, the son of Chaviva (nee Persky) and Yeshayahu, fell in the area of the Suez Canal on the 4th of Elul 5729 (August 18, 1969).}
I first met Motti at the beginning of 1964, when I came to lead the Hachorshim Brigade of Hashomer Hatzair in Ramat Gan. I met a unique youth, central and active.
Motti loved nature, and especially living beings, very much. He visited the Negba on the Feast of First Fruits of 5724 (1964)[1]. That entire day, Motti was filled with excitement about the horse races. He wandered around the stable, visited the horse, and inspected it from head to hoof.
Finally, the competition itself came. Motti galloped on a horse with blazing eyes - on the grass at the center of the Kibbutz. Our truck was waiting, and the driver was blowing the horn (in order to return to Ramat Gan). The travelers were already seated and ready for the journey - all of them, except for Motti. He could not part from the horse. Go, I will return myself, he shouted to us.
His great knowledge of agriculture astounded me at the time. He took interest in crops, irrigation, machinery and tractors a long time before he began his studies in Hadera.
With his love of nature, he was an ideal member of the youth group.
Motti studied in Hadera for three years.
I only followed him during the first period, at the beginning of his path there. I felt that the period of time in the agricultural school was an important milestone for Motti along the path toward independence and adulthood.
I visited the school twice. I chatted with Motti's advisors. I recall his many stories of his status and his feelings toward the school and the group - how he operated the mechanical equipment for plowing and the equipment in the garage, how he worked as the operator of agricultural implements for the farmers of Hadera. Motti indeed found his place in that school, despite the fact that he had uprooted himself from Ramat Gan, his friends, and even in pushing off his army service.
The connection between us continued even after I returned to Negba. On occasion, on Sabbaths, Motti would come to visit us, bringing some of his friends along. I will admit that each visit left a unique feeling with us.
I remember Motti as a soldier in army fatigues and high army boots, standing in the darkness and stubbornly entering the children's room to take a glance at his sleeping baby. This seemed slightly strange to us, but it was so true to his nature! The older daughter already knew his name and remembered him from visit to visit.
[Page 286]
There were also meetings in the field, several kilometers from the farm. Motti would appear in the field and come to me. I was not at home, and he went to search for me in the field, full of happiness and a smile. He would give me professional advice on the tractor and on cultivation. He was full of joy and faith in life, all exclamation marks with no questions.
My final meeting with Motti was after he completed his course as an armor officer. A mature officer sat next to me, a lad in whom the Israel Defense Forces had placed great responsibility. We exchanged impressions on Sinai and the Suez Canal. Motti told us about his plans in the army. We parted, and he entered his white Saab, started it and set out on his way. Shosha, who was standing next to me, said, See, we knew a land and now he has grown up. Did you ever believe that your wild Motti would become a captain?
Motti had a deep sense of volunteerism: to forge forward, to do, to help, to succeed, to prove himself. How proud was he of his deeds during the Six Day War in Kibbutz Haon, when he took an ambulance and transported wounded people himself, even though he was only a lad in national service.
It seemed that there were no bounds to his wellspring of energy However however Motti is no more; Motti, with whom we were so connected and whom we liked so much, who was so full of youthful plans: flourishing, laughter, and renewal. The heart refused, the logic contradicts, but the reality screams out.
He was born in 1913 in Vilna and was raised in Jonava. He made aliya in 1933. He fell in the War of Independence, in the Western Galilee in the area of Nahariya, on June 27, 1948.
{Photo page 286: Uncaptioned. A barren tree.}
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text:
The closure of the Chino courthouse is expected to increase workload and operations at the other nearby courts in the San Bernardino County Superior Court system, but the details on how exactly have yet to be determined, officials said.
The system announced July13 that the Chino courthouse on Central Avenue would close effective Jan. 1 due to budgetary issues.
"That would result in some increase but exactly what that increase is, we're going to have to take a courtwide look into how the cases are assigned and processed, but it's probably a fair guess that there will be an increase overall to Fontana and Rancho," said Stephen Nash, court executive officer.
"It's premature to say what the specifics are."
The county court system is facing a $13.5million shortfall this fiscal year, and a $20 million to $21 million shortfall annually in subsequent fiscal years. The court is also facing $14 million to $18 million in additional cuts to its reserve.
"The level of cuts that this court is experiencing is unprecedented and simply staggering," Nash said.
Cost-saving measures systemwide include a partial closure or reductions of clerk office hours and a cutback in court administration workforce.
The county's court system has already closed courthouses in Twin Peaks and Redlands, two juvenile traffic courtrooms, and one juvenile delinquency courtroom.
With 71 authorized judges and 15 commissioners, the court system has only 57percent of the judicial officers it needs, officials said. The California chief justice has assigned retired judges to the court to help with caseloads, but the court has been required to provide staffing and other resources to support the assigned judges.
Officials said these reductions are limiting the ability to continue to provide staff to support courtrooms that remain open.
"There is going to be a workload impact on our courthouses," Nash said. "These are impacts that will have to be determined as we proceed."
Reach Neil via email, call him at 909-483-9356, or find him on Twitter @InlandGov.


text:
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text:
The official website of NDTV Imagine television channel is now providing an opportunity to download the title theme song of Ramayan that is now being telecast. Apart from the title theme, you can also download wallpapers, a
Pictures of Ram, Sita and the main episodes of the Ramayana serial can also be downloaded.
Wallpapers, songs and pictures can be downloaded from this link. (link removed)