Selected text
My grandfather, Nahman Khusid, who was born in Stepantsy around 1850, was a local rabbi. People often turned to my grandfather to resolve their everyday problems. However, when they had more serious problems, they took them to the rabbi of a neighboring town. My grandfather didn't charge them for his advice, and people were convinced that his connection to God, without money, was a doubtful matter. But they loved my grandfather very much. He was a very kind and cheerful man. His family consisted of himself, my grandmother - regretfully, I don't remember her name - and seven children. They led a poor and miserable life. They lived in a small wooden house, and very often their children could only take turns going out because they had only one pair of shoes for the boys and one for the girls. In his everyday life my grandfather could make do with very little. The only things he couldn't refuse himself were his rare trips to the opera's opening night performances. My grandfather was crazy about music. He even took opera trips on Saturdays, which should have been absolutely out of the question for a religious Jew, or a rabbi. That is why I think he must have led a more secular life than he should have, according to his position. I was told that my grandfather was very close to Sholem-Aleihem, and often met with him in Kiev. My grandfather Nahman was killed during a pogrom in Stepantsy in 1919. I don't know any details of this terrible event. My father couldn't talk about it. My grandmother died in the mid-1930s. I never saw or met her.
At the end of the last century, Stepantsy was a small Jewish town with a population 80% Jewish and the rest Ukrainian. These two groups got along very well and supported each other. There was a synagogue and a church in the central square. There were hardly any jobs to be had in Stepantsy. Women were mainly housewives, and men engaged themselves in handicrafts, as tinsmiths, shoemakers, carpenters, etc. They worked hard to support their families, but what they could earn was never enough. Their families were large, and early in life, older sons began to work to help their fathers make ends meet. Parents couldn't begin to dream about giving their children an education. They just couldn't afford it. Life in Stepantsy was poor and monotonous, as it was in many other similar little towns.
Father's oldest brother, Iosif, was born in 1880. I don't know what he did for a living before the Revolution, but afterwards he lived in Leningrad. He had a wife named Eva and two sons, Alexandr and Naum. He sent them to the evacuation in Barnaul during the Great Patriotic War, while he himself stayed behind in Leningrad. He loved the arts, and worked as an administrator in one of the theaters. He loved music and the ballet, but most of all he loved ballerinas. Many of them were his lovers. My father often met with Uncle Iosif when he went to Moscow. Iosif visited Kiev only once, in 1953. Iosif died in mid-1980. His son Shurik lives in St. Petersburg.
The next sibling in my father's family was his brother Idel, born, in 1885. Idel took a degree in economics. He lived and worked in Odessa. In the early 1930s he divorced his wife, leaving her and their son Alexandr in Odessa, and moved to Kiev. He lived there with his common-law wife, Valentina Ottovna, a German - they did not arrange a lawful marriage. When the war began, Valentina convinced Idel that the Germans were a civilized people and would therefore do no harm to the Jews, and so it did not make any sense to leave home. According to what one of our distant relatives told us, Valentina Ottovna handed Idel over to policemen near the Golden Gate, an ancient historical monument in Kiev. Our relative, a Christian woman, said she had seen the Germans pushing Idel into the column of Jews walking to the Babi Yar. Idel was shot along with thousands of other Jews on September 29, 1941.
After Idel, the next two children born to the Khusid family were girls, Mikhlia, born in 1888, and Mirrah, born in 1890. Mikhlia's husband's name was Nahman - I can't remember his first name. Mirrah was married to Mendel Gurevich, an attorney in Kiev. Mikhlia had two daughters, Sarrah and Polia, and Mirrah had two sons, David and Naum. David perished on the front during the Great Patriotic War. The rest of the families were in the evacuation in Tashkent, I believe. Mikhlia died in Kiev in 1960 and Mirrah died around 1965. Their children have passed away, too.
Dora was my father's younger sister, born in 1894 in Stepantsy. Around 1900, she married Isaak Galperin and lived with him in Odessa. They had no children. When the war began, Dora left Odessa with her sisters Mikhlia and Mirrah, but Isaak had to stay on. He was too late to be evacuated, and was shot by the Germans in 1941. Dora did not remarry, and lived in Leningrad after the war. In 1975 I took her to Kiev, because she couldn't live alone any longer. In 1976 Dora was involved in a car accident and became an invalid. She died on July 21, 1977. I was at her bedside.
My father's youngest brother, David, born around 1905, lived with my parents in Odessa after their marriage. My father helped David to get education. Later, David moved to Kiev, where he married a nice Russian woman named Nyura. This was the cousin of the woman who saw my father Idel on his way to Babi Yar. David was in the evacuation during the war. He died in the mid-1980s. His son Victor lives in Kiev.
Like all the other sons of my grandfather Nahman, my father received a Jewish education in a cheder, but that wasn't enough for him. He wanted to become an educated and intelligent man. He was right to think that only a good education could help him to lift himself out of the poverty of this little Jewish town. When my father turned 13, he said "goodbye" to his parents, left his father's home, and went to Kiev on foot. There, he found a temporary job and shelter in the home of a woman who sold milk. My father slept on a windowsill in the basement that served as her shop. In exchange for food and lodging, my father had to unload milk carts that arrived from the surrounding villages early in the morning, wash out milk cans, and perform other related chores. In the evenings, my father sat and studied on that same windowsill that served as his bed. Sometimes he studied so late into the night that the milk woman would tell him to switch off the lamp. By working and studying hard, my father managed to earn a degree in economics at an institution of higher learning, the name of which I unfortunately don't know.
When World War I began in 1914, my father was recruited into the tsarist army. He was a Private in the infantry and finished the war with the rank of Private First Class of Putivl Regiment 127. In September 1916 my father was severely wounded. His legs were broken, and he was sent to the hospital, remaining there until May 1917. After being released, my father was dismissed from the army as an invalid. During his service in the tsarist army, father was awarded two George's Crosses - the highest award that Privates could get. My father never told me what deeds of his were so rewarded.
I don't know what my father did after his release from the hospital, but I know that he was in Odessa in 1920, and worked at the Odessa province's Soviet farm A Soviet farm is a collectively owned agricultural complex with no private property. People came to work on the farm, just as they would at any industrial enterprise. There, he met there my mother's older brother, Abram Ortenberg, who introduced my father to my mother's family.
At the end of the last century, Stepantsy was a small Jewish town with a population 80% Jewish and the rest Ukrainian. These two groups got along very well and supported each other. There was a synagogue and a church in the central square. There were hardly any jobs to be had in Stepantsy. Women were mainly housewives, and men engaged themselves in handicrafts, as tinsmiths, shoemakers, carpenters, etc. They worked hard to support their families, but what they could earn was never enough. Their families were large, and early in life, older sons began to work to help their fathers make ends meet. Parents couldn't begin to dream about giving their children an education. They just couldn't afford it. Life in Stepantsy was poor and monotonous, as it was in many other similar little towns.
Father's oldest brother, Iosif, was born in 1880. I don't know what he did for a living before the Revolution, but afterwards he lived in Leningrad. He had a wife named Eva and two sons, Alexandr and Naum. He sent them to the evacuation in Barnaul during the Great Patriotic War, while he himself stayed behind in Leningrad. He loved the arts, and worked as an administrator in one of the theaters. He loved music and the ballet, but most of all he loved ballerinas. Many of them were his lovers. My father often met with Uncle Iosif when he went to Moscow. Iosif visited Kiev only once, in 1953. Iosif died in mid-1980. His son Shurik lives in St. Petersburg.
The next sibling in my father's family was his brother Idel, born, in 1885. Idel took a degree in economics. He lived and worked in Odessa. In the early 1930s he divorced his wife, leaving her and their son Alexandr in Odessa, and moved to Kiev. He lived there with his common-law wife, Valentina Ottovna, a German - they did not arrange a lawful marriage. When the war began, Valentina convinced Idel that the Germans were a civilized people and would therefore do no harm to the Jews, and so it did not make any sense to leave home. According to what one of our distant relatives told us, Valentina Ottovna handed Idel over to policemen near the Golden Gate, an ancient historical monument in Kiev. Our relative, a Christian woman, said she had seen the Germans pushing Idel into the column of Jews walking to the Babi Yar. Idel was shot along with thousands of other Jews on September 29, 1941.
After Idel, the next two children born to the Khusid family were girls, Mikhlia, born in 1888, and Mirrah, born in 1890. Mikhlia's husband's name was Nahman - I can't remember his first name. Mirrah was married to Mendel Gurevich, an attorney in Kiev. Mikhlia had two daughters, Sarrah and Polia, and Mirrah had two sons, David and Naum. David perished on the front during the Great Patriotic War. The rest of the families were in the evacuation in Tashkent, I believe. Mikhlia died in Kiev in 1960 and Mirrah died around 1965. Their children have passed away, too.
Dora was my father's younger sister, born in 1894 in Stepantsy. Around 1900, she married Isaak Galperin and lived with him in Odessa. They had no children. When the war began, Dora left Odessa with her sisters Mikhlia and Mirrah, but Isaak had to stay on. He was too late to be evacuated, and was shot by the Germans in 1941. Dora did not remarry, and lived in Leningrad after the war. In 1975 I took her to Kiev, because she couldn't live alone any longer. In 1976 Dora was involved in a car accident and became an invalid. She died on July 21, 1977. I was at her bedside.
My father's youngest brother, David, born around 1905, lived with my parents in Odessa after their marriage. My father helped David to get education. Later, David moved to Kiev, where he married a nice Russian woman named Nyura. This was the cousin of the woman who saw my father Idel on his way to Babi Yar. David was in the evacuation during the war. He died in the mid-1980s. His son Victor lives in Kiev.
Like all the other sons of my grandfather Nahman, my father received a Jewish education in a cheder, but that wasn't enough for him. He wanted to become an educated and intelligent man. He was right to think that only a good education could help him to lift himself out of the poverty of this little Jewish town. When my father turned 13, he said "goodbye" to his parents, left his father's home, and went to Kiev on foot. There, he found a temporary job and shelter in the home of a woman who sold milk. My father slept on a windowsill in the basement that served as her shop. In exchange for food and lodging, my father had to unload milk carts that arrived from the surrounding villages early in the morning, wash out milk cans, and perform other related chores. In the evenings, my father sat and studied on that same windowsill that served as his bed. Sometimes he studied so late into the night that the milk woman would tell him to switch off the lamp. By working and studying hard, my father managed to earn a degree in economics at an institution of higher learning, the name of which I unfortunately don't know.
When World War I began in 1914, my father was recruited into the tsarist army. He was a Private in the infantry and finished the war with the rank of Private First Class of Putivl Regiment 127. In September 1916 my father was severely wounded. His legs were broken, and he was sent to the hospital, remaining there until May 1917. After being released, my father was dismissed from the army as an invalid. During his service in the tsarist army, father was awarded two George's Crosses - the highest award that Privates could get. My father never told me what deeds of his were so rewarded.
I don't know what my father did after his release from the hospital, but I know that he was in Odessa in 1920, and worked at the Odessa province's Soviet farm A Soviet farm is a collectively owned agricultural complex with no private property. People came to work on the farm, just as they would at any industrial enterprise. There, he met there my mother's older brother, Abram Ortenberg, who introduced my father to my mother's family.
Location
Ukraine
Interview
Larissa Khusid
Tag(s)