He was the complete package: actor, singer, dancer, impressionist and entertainer. A relative of Danny Kaye reminisces about the actor, singer and comedian with the big Jewish heart.
Danny Kaye in Israel, the Eddie Hirschbein Collection, the National Library of Israel
I first learned about Danny Kaye from pictures in our family albums and from stories my mother told me about “the uncle from America,” and from neighbors in Netanya who met him when he came to visit his cousin (my grandfather), Marion Kaminsky.
Danny Kaye shaking the paw of Marion Kaminsky’s dog. Photograph from the family album of Marion Kaminsky z”l, Danny Kaye’s cousin
Danny Kaye, born David Daniel Kaminsky, was blessed with talent: in addition to his stage abilities and some unique talents (as exhibited in the song Tchaikovsky, in which Kaye reels off the names of dozens of Russian and Polish composers, some famous and some obscure, at lightning quick speed – the tune is less than a minute long), he also had an amazing musical sense, despite never having played an instrument. With captivating humor he offered living proof of his talent while conducting various orchestras. He is fondly remembered for having conducted the Israeli Philharmonic Orchestra at a number of benefit performances for Israel (which he visited dozens of times over the course of his life and unconditionally supported during difficult periods, including wartime). He was, moreover, a great pilot and a decorated chef, specializing in Chinese cuisine.
Danny Kaye performing in Israel, the Eddie Hirschbein Collection, the National Library of Israel
In the early years, Israeli public television would broadcast the best of this Jewish comedian’s films, including Merry Andrew, The Court Jester (a wonderful movie), Wonder Man (according to many – his best film), White Christmas, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, Knock on Wood, and Hans Christian Andersen. It is true that over the years, the glamour of some of Kaye’s movies has faded and some of them may now seem somewhat outdated. But, and this is a big “but,” nothing will diminish the greatness and virtues of this wonderful artist. Even in his most mediocre films, he was the complete package: a fine actor, graceful dancer, wonderful singer, and excellent impressionist and entertainer.
Danny Kaye during a visit to Israel, 1967, the Dan Hadani (IPPA) Collection at the National Library of Israel
By the early 1970s, Danny Kaye had stopped appearing in films. He was focusing mainly on television (the award winning The Danny Kaye Show) and humanitarian activity such as his work with UNICEF. Besides receiving the Oscar for lifetime achievement in the early 1980s, Kaye also gave some unforgettable performances on the small screen, including in dramatic roles. In the excellent television drama Skokie (1981), based on a true story, Kaye played the role of Max Feldman, a Jewish Holocaust survivor who was one of the leaders of the protest against the proposed Neo-Nazi march through the village of Skokie, Illinois, home to many Jewish Holocaust survivors. The elderly Kaye was already suffering from heart disease, but he insisted on playing the part despite his declining health.
From the family album of Danny Kaye’s cousin, Marion Kaminsky z”l
And let’s not forget his warm Jewish soul, because there never was and (it seems) there never will be a truer friend to Israel in Hollywood than Danny Kaye.
On leaving Israel after his first visit in 1956, he said: “I now have a real reason to be sad. As the moment of my leaving this country approaches, I am filled with more and more sadness. I want you to know that I leave Israel a different man than when I arrived. My visit to Israel was the greatest experience of my life. I was given a new perspective. My faith is renewed. I see people standing taller and straighter here than in any other country I have visited. Believe me, I haven’t been able to sleep at all these past few nights because of my excitement and high spirits. I plan to return to Israel soon, maybe even sooner than you think. But then I won’t come as a representative of the UN or as an American ‘star,’ or even as a tourist — I will come as a simple Jew.”
He promised to return and he fulfilled that promise!
May his memory be a blessing.
Danny Kaye in Israel, the Eddie Hirschbein Collection, the National Library of Israel
Written by Meirav Kaye, a relative of Danny Kaye, and Erez Bar, a scholar of culture and a lecturer on film and music
An Enthralling Journey: The Changing Land of Israel Over Three Centuries
See how a Scottish artist interpreted the landscape of the Land of Israel in his mid-19th century paintings. See how an Israeli artist retraced his footsteps and recreated his works over a century later.
The white cliffs of Rosh Hanikra: Berger-Vilnay Lithograph No. 55 and the accompanying photograph by Yelena Grof, 2016
He could not have known at such an early age, but Zvi Berger’s first memory would contain the key to his future and a hint of who he would grow up to be. As Berger recalls the memory – he is wandering around the neighborhoods of Mandatory Haifa with a piece of chalk in his hand, drawing whatever sights catch his curious eye.
Twenty years after that first memory, we find the wandering child from Haifa living in Jerusalem. He is already an outstanding student at the Bezalel Academy of Art and Design and married with a daughter on the way. The geographer and historian, Professor Zeev Vilnay, proposes an interesting project to him. The professor wants him to trace the journey of a nineteenth-century Scottish painter through the Land of Israel and to recreate some of the major landmarks of his journey in lithographs. Berger’s job will be to draw the various sites, and Vilnay will compile the lithographs, placing them in historical context.
Zvi Berger drawing in Akko, July 1957. From the collection of his daughter, Adi Berger-Ram
Artist Zvi Berger looks out from a vantage point in Israel. Year unknown. From the collection of his daughter, Adi Berger-Ram
The Promised Land through the eyes of David Roberts
124 years before Berger and Vilnay’s arrangement, a Scottish traveler arrived at the Port of Alexandria in Egypt. It was August, 1838 and the young Scot was David Roberts. Roberts, who had grown up painting landscapes, was well acquainted with Egypt’s magnificent Orientalist paintings. These were works created by European artists like Dominique Vivant Denon, who embarked on a similar artistic excursion with Napoleon’s army in the previous generation.
The evidence of a lost world, embodied by ancient temples and inscriptions, seems to have drawn Roberts more than the artistic styles on which he had been educated. By December, He had created a hundred paintings of the various temples scattered in and around Cairo. On February 7th, 1839, he set out for the Holy Land in a convoy of 21 camels and 15 Arab bodyguards. At the end of a month’s journey, which included a four-day trek through the Sinai desert, the convoy arrived in Hebron.
Portrait of David Roberts
Roberts spent a little over one month in the Holy Land, then a part of the Ottoman Empire, before sailing to Europe from the Port of Alexandria. The creative energy that consumed him in Egypt was also demonstrated in the Land of Israel. He was impressed by the “near-English cleanliness” he found in Hebron, the beauty of Gaza and the character of its residents. But, it was Jerusalem that had captured the imagination of the Christian painter from the beginning, and he anxiously awaited his arrival at the ancient city.
On the road to Jerusalem, he wrote, “I have not felt this perfect pleasure from the beauty of nature since the days of my childhood…The mountains of Judah frame the landscape and, beyond, lies the magnificent city.”
Although he changed his mind about Jerusalem after entering its gates, Roberts illustrated the city, its landscapes and the various sites he visited in dozens of drawings and paintings. Roberts returned to England with 272 illustrations, a Cairo panorama and three full notebooks of sketches. In the ten years following his trip, Roberts based his works on the sketches and illustrations he created during his time in Egypt and the Holy Land.
In Roberts’ Footsteps
Zvi Berger and Ze’ev Vilnay attempted to trace Roberts’ journey through the Land of Israel by using his own works. The map of Roberts’ voyage, most likely created in 1855, helped piece together a general picture. Roberts’ log that he kept throughout his journey (which has since been published in several editions) provided an intimate look at the artist’s feelings and impressions of the Holy Land. Above all, Berger and Vilnay utilized Roberts’ original illustrations and paintings as clues, tracing his footsteps through the artwork.
A map of Roberts’ journey
Berger and Vilnay’s project, which began in 1962, took 3 years to complete. Israel Horizons, the book they published together, contained 56 original lithographs of landscapes of the State of Israel. The same year it was published, their collection won a silver medal at an art book festival in Milan.
The pair encountered a number of modern obstacles tracking Roberts’ historical journey. Nasser’s Egypt, for example, was out of bounds. This fact, however, was of no consequence to the two, who wished to focus on Roberts’ travel in the Land of Israel at any rate. However, the political reality of Israel in the years preceding the Six-Day War thwarted Berger and Vilnay’s requests for access to many areas that Roberts’ had visited. Namely, East Jerusalem, Gaza and the West Bank were off limits to Berger and Vilnay. For this reason, many of the locales of Roberts’ paintings remained just outside the pair’s reach, including the painting below which depicts the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.
Roberts’ painting of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the Old City of Jerusalem
These obstacles aside, the Berger-Vilnay team did manage to recreate quite a few other illustrations. One of the lookout points that most attracted Roberts was the hill that is now known as “Giv’at Yonah.” According to the local folklore, this hill claims to be the spot where the Leviathan spat Jonah back onto land. During the Arab conquest of the Land of Israel in the seventh century CE, the town of Isdud was established in this area.
Berger and Vilnay were able to pinpoint the location of Roberts’ illustration in the early 1960s. Berger’s drawing, No. 15 in the album, depicts the pride of the Zionist enterprise at the time. This was the new port of Ashdod, complete with a breakwater, inaugurated in 1963. In Roberts’ painting, shepherds are seen in the foreground. In Berger’s drawing, the artist is pictured with his family. His three-year-old daughter, Adi (remember her name), is depicted on the far right.
Roberts’ painting of the town of Isdud and the accompanying Berger-Vilnay drawing of the port of Ashdod, Lithograph No. 15
Another interesting comparison is Berger’s recreation of Roberts’ Mount Tabor lookout point. In Roberts’ painting, the valley at the foot of the mountain seems to be devoid of any actual dwellings (though we do see a caravan of people making their way through it). In Berger’s Drawing No. 39 we can spot the Church of the Transfiguration sitting atop the mountain. Construction on the church was completed in 1924 by architect Antonio Barluzzi. At the foot of the mountain lies a settlement that we have had difficulty identifying. It is most likely the Arab town of Daburiya.
Mount Tabor. Roberts’ painting and the accompanying Berger-Vilnay drawing, Lithograph No. 39
The drawing that Berger called “A View of the Carmel from Haifa Bay” reconstructs the very exact angle of Roberts’ painting. Unlike the previous examples, we see very few deviations between the two artists’ depictions of the bay.
Mount Carmel. Roberts’ painting and the accompanying Berger-Vilnay drawing, Lithograph No. 29
Berger and Vilnay did allow themselves to deviate from Roberts’ original structure when they felt it enhanced the modern representation and juxtaposition of the old versus the new. In the first lithograph which appears in their album, Berger recreated a painting that Roberts conceived on the road to Jerusalem (the painting is dated April 5, 1839). While Roberts depicts the city of Jerusalem by highlighting its towering mosques, Vilnay’s brief description emphasizes the pair’s difference in focus. Berger’s drawing has been named, “Jerusalem – Capital of Israel,” and Vilnay’s short description includes the explanation of an “old” custom- a practice in which Jews on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem would rip their clothes as soon as the ancient city came into view.
Roberts’ painting of Jerusalem and the surrounding areaBerger’s sketch, Jerusalem – Capital of Israel, Lithograph No. 1
A similar deviation comes to light when comparing the two depictions of the port of Jaffa. Roberts arrived in the city on March 25, 1839. He painted it from the north, and in the center of the painting we see a group of Polish Jews returning to Europe from a trip to Jerusalem. The Berger-Vilnay team chose a similar angle for their drawing (No. 12), but they set the observation point at a further distance. This fact can be attributed to the message they wished to convey: the inclusion of Jaffa’s younger, sister city. The focal point of Berger’s drawing is the promenade of Tel Aviv, the first Hebrew city. “In the background, thrusting up from the sea, is the profile of Jaffa – one of the oldest cities in the world,” Vilnay wrote in the album’s commentary.
Roberts, the city of JaffaBerger-Vilnay, Tel Aviv-Jaffa, Lithograph No. 12
The duo also added two other pictures of Tel Aviv. These pictures were not recreations of Roberts’ artwork, nor did they utilize any of his observation-points for reference. Vilnay provided the reasoning in his annotations to the album, “Tel Aviv was founded in 1909” – 70 years after Roberts’ departure from the Land of Israel.
Berger-Vilnay, King George St. in Tel Aviv, Lithograph No. 13
Different viewpoints of the same place are also found in the representations of Ein Gedi. Roberts observed the Ein Gedi area from the vantage point of the Dead Sea. Berger and Vilnay’s version is a celebration of the re-establishment of Ein Gedi as a community, which began in 1953 with the placement of a Nahal (military-agricultural) outpost. Three years later, the outpost had become Kibbutz Ein Gedi.
Roberts, the Dead SeaBerger-Vilnay, Ein Gedi, Lithograph No. 20
Although Berger and Vilnay chose to use Roberts’ subject of the ancient ruins of Ashkelon (destroyed in 1270) and not the new city (established in 1948), the pair did decide to create their representation from an alternative angle. Roberts painted the Old City facing south, while Berger faced north.
Roberts, AshkelonBerger-Vilnay, the ancient city of Ashkelon, Lithograph No. 16
Another notable choice by the Berger-Vilnay team that had no twin among Roberts’ paintings was No. 55, depicting Abraham Melinkov’s roaring lion statue. The statue commemorates the fall of Joseph Trumpeldor and his seven comrades at Tel Hai in the year 1920.
Berger-Vilnay, The Roaring Lion of Tel-Hai, Lithograph No. 55
The Girl in the Picture and the Broken Shelf
In the summer of 2014, a shelf collapsed in the home of Adi Berger-Ram. In Adi’s book about her father, On His Own Path: The Pictures and Life of Painter Zvi Berger (Hebrew), she described the incident as a fateful anomaly. She characterized the drawings, which lay untouched on the shelf for nearly three decades before its collapse, as screaming out: “We want the world to see us!”
The tremendous creative energy generated by her father, Zvi Berger, yielded a veritable stockpile of works that had never reached publication. For Adi, it was an exciting journey into the world of her father’s work. She was thrilled by the power and quantity of the previously undiscovered works she found. In the four years following the collapse of the shelf, Adi Berger-Ram managed to publish two full books based on Zvi’s work, both of which she composed herself. Adi has dedicated her time to commemorating her father’s works and to instill his passions within each publication – his love of the land and her people. In the spirit of this sentiment, she organizes multi-generational get-togethers between children and adults and between new immigrants and veteran Israelis.
Tel Aviv-Jaffa promenade: Berger-Vilnay, Lithograph No. 12 and the accompanying photograph by Yelena Grof, Tel Aviv-Jaffa promenade, 2017
The first of the two books, On His Own Path, is a collection of art that describes the life of Zvi Berger extensively, including paintings from various periods of his life. The book was published in 2016 on the third anniversary of the artist’s death. The second book, In the Cycle of Months (Hebrew), was published just one year later. The book was a collaboration between Benjamin Bilavsky, an experienced book designer and Hebrew language student, and his teacher, Adi Berger-Ram. The book tells the story of the Hebrew months. It is written a first-person perspective in basic Hebrew. It features original illustrations by Zvi Berger that inspired his daughter to write the book.
Berger and Vilnay’s excursion in the wake of Roberts’ initial journey convinced Adi to embark on her own small journey. She painstakingly sought out the points from which her father composed his drawings and sought to photograph them from the same angle. The result is an enthralling comparison between “then and now.”
Of the ten points captured on film by the team of Adi Berger-Ram, Yelena Grof and Arthur Grof, three of them were also painted by Roberts almost two centuries earlier. The three locations are: Ashkelon, Ashdod and Jaffa/Tel Aviv Promenade.
In the photograph of Ashkelon we can see the beach captured from the same angle that her father chose (as opposed to Roberts’ choice). “The Old City,” as Berger called it, has since developed. The beach now features a lifeguard stand and a number of buildings that have been erected in the distance.
Ashkelon: Berger-Vilnay, Lithograph No. 16 and the accompanying photograph by Yelena Grof, 2016
In a photograph taken by Yelena Grof, we can see that the port of Ashdod has developed since the 1963 sketch made by Zvi Berger. Adi, who appeared on the far right in her father’s sketch, makes a cameo appearance as the grown woman standing to the right of her husband in the photograph.
In February 2017, equipped with the original lithograph of the city of Ashdod, Adi climbed with her husband and friends to the same lookout point. They were faithfully guided by a childhood memory, preserved by the perpetuation of its image in lithography.
Port of Ashdod: Berger-Vilnay, Lithograph No. 15 and the accompanying photograph by Yelena Grof, 2017
As you have noticed by now, the passing of a relatively short amount of time (even in an ancient land) can yield enormous changes. A comparison between a current photograph of Be’er Sheva with Berger’s 50-year-old drawing illustrates this point wonderfully.
Beer Sheva from the northwest: Berger-Vilnay, Lithograph No. 17 and the accompanying photograph by Yelena Grof, 2017
Elsewhere, it seems that not much has changed. Tel Hai’s lion is still roaring and the dramatic cliffs of Rosh Hanikra have not yet fallen into the sea.
The Roaring Lion of Tel-Hai: Berger-Vilnay, Lithograph No. 55 and the accompanying photograph by Hadas Ram, 2016
The White Cliffs of Rosh Hanikra: Berger-Vilnay, Lithograph No. 55 and the accompanying photograph by Yelena Grof, 2016
Adi’s photographs, when combined with Berger’s drawings and (in some cases) Roberts’ paintings, allow us to look at each location through the perspectives of two (and sometimes three) different centuries.
And for the finale – here is our addition to the collection, accompanying Berger’s drawing of the National Library:
Many thanks to Adi Berger-Ram for her assistance in the research and composition of this article.
Right Before Their Fatal Mission, Jewish WWII Soldiers Took These Incredible Pictures of Egypt
A look at an incredible series of photographs taken by Hebrew soldiers in Egypt during WWII. Some of these smiling faces would not survive the war – They died during an attempt to save Jewish lives.
Zvi Ben Yaakov, Rafael Reiss, Haviva Reik and friends during their military service in Egypt in 1944.
When we began to look in earnest through the Bitmuna photographic collections on the National Library website, we noticed that the name Rudy Goldstein was linked to hundreds of the photos. His name was occasionally accompanied by the title “Dr.” At first glance, if we had to guess the occupation of this man, we might have supposed he had a doctorate in photography, or perhaps other credentials in the field of visual arts. At any rate, it was clear that he was a man who spent quite a bit of his free time traversing and documenting the developing Land of Israel: Here a picture of a beautiful flower in a meadow, there a photo of pioneer farmers toiling in the fields.
Since at first we only focused on the scenes he captured through his lens, we missed an important clue concerning the identity of Dr. Goldstein: On the back of each photograph he scrawled a short description of the scene he had captured – the man had the handwriting of a medical doctor.
Dr. Goldstein first met his most loyal and consistently photographed model in 1934. It was in Mandatory Palestine, a land to which he immigrated after completing his medical studies in Berlin. A year after the Nazi party rose to power in Germany, Goldstein decided that his true place was in the Land of Israel. He started practicing medicine near the northern community of Rosh Pina. There he fought to eradicate a rampant fever that killed many pioneers of the Jewish community, also known as the Yishuv. Later he moved on to practice medicine in the Jordan Valley, before eventually accepting a doctor’s position at the Haemek hospital in Afula, which had been established in 1930.
Goldstein, who left his German homeland after it linked its fate to that of the Nazi party, chose to enlist in the British army as Germany began to realize the monstrous vision of its leader. It was the onset of World War II, and the profession of medicine was in high demand. Dr. Goldstein was recruited and sent to North Africa, where he would spend most of his war years, much of that period in Egypt.
Alexandria, Egypt. 1942. Photo: Dr. Rudy Goldstein, the Bitmuna Collection. Click on the pictures to enlarge.
The base where Rudi Goldstein served in Egypt, 1942. Photo: Dr. Rudy Goldstein, the Bitmuna Collection.
In the military clinic of a military camp in Egypt (Dr. Rudy Goldstein with a nurse at the entrance to the clinic), 1942. The Bitmuna Collection.
The copious amount of photographs he was able to capture at the time show that the doctor managed to find quite a few opportunities to photograph his surroundings, even during the busiest of times. He also documented the many sights he saw in writing. He was able to keep up this active pace thanks to what he dubbed on the back of one of the photos: “My vehicle”.
“Egypt – My vehicle”, 1946. Photo: Dr. Rudy Goldstein (seen driving a car in the picture), the Bitmuna Collection.
Rudy Goldstein was not the only Hebrew soldier in Egypt at the time, nor was he the only photography enthusiast among the thousands of other soldiers serving there. Another fresh recruit, who had been detained at Atlit immediately following his illegal immigration to Israel, was Rafael Reiss. He captured dozens of pictures that can also be found in the Bitmuna collections.
Rafael Reiss in Egypt, 1944. The Bitmuna Collection.
If the name Raphael Reiss sounds familiar, it is because he is best remembered as one of the paratroopers from the Yishuv who jumped into Nazi-occupied Europe in an attempt to save Jews from the genocide taking place there. Reiss came to Mandatory Palestine from Slovakia in 1939 after studying medicine at the University of Bratislava for several years, having never earned his degree due to the Nazi takeover of Czechoslovakia prior to his immigration. In the Land of Israel, Reiss met his future wife, Naomi, and married her. She later gave birth to their only daughter, Edna.
Reiss began his military training in Mandatory Palestine in December 1943. As part of their training, Reiss and his comrades were sent to Egypt. Reiss, like Goldstein, was able to take in much of Egypt’s landscape. Most of his photographs from this period were collected under the archival name, “Sightseeing Tours in Egypt, 1944.”
Photographs from the collection “Sightseeing Tours in Egypt, 1944.” Rafael Reiss, the Bitmuna Collection.
Many other photos by Reiss were marked “Cairo Zoo”, where they were taken.
Photographs from the “Cairo Zoo”, 1944. Photo: Rafael Reiss, the Bitmuna Collection.
From the notes found on some of the pictures we learn that Rafael Reiss and his friends were given a short leave back home in the Land of Israel.
Rafael Reiss and friends enroute from Cairo to leave in the Land of Israel, 1944. Photo: Rafael Reiss, the Bitmuna Collection.
In the summer of 1944, Reiss and Haim Hermesh parachuted into Yugoslavia. Since the paratroopers sent previously by the British Army and the Haganah – Hannah Szenes, Yoel Palgi and Peretz Goldstein – were captured by the Nazis in Hungary, the British ordered Reiss and Hermesh to enter Hungary through Slovakia, and there to join up with Haviva Reik and Zvi Ben Yaakov, who feature in many of Reiss’ Egyptian photos.
Haviva Reik in Egypt, 1944. Photo: Rafael Reiss, the Bitmuna Collection.
Haviva Reik and Rafael Reiss in Egypt, 1944. Photo: Rafael Reiss, the Bitmuna Collection.
Rafael Reiss and Zvi Ben Yaakov in Egypt, 1944. Photo: Rafael Reiss, the Bitmuna Collection.
Haviva Reik and Zvi Ben Yaakov in Egypt, 1944. Photo: Rafael Reiss, the Bitmuna Collection.
Haviva Reik and Zvi Ben Yaakov at the Cairo Zoo, 1944. Photo: Rafael Reiss, the Bitmuna Collection.
One of the most amazing photographs of the two collections was taken at the synagogue in Alexandria on the day of the Allied victory over Nazi Germany on May 8, 1945. The photograph was taken by Dr. Rudy Goldstein. Rafael Reiss, Zvi Ben Yaakov and Haviva Reik did not get to see that long-awaited day. They were captured and executed in Slovakia in November 1944. The three were then buried in an unmarked mass grave.
At the synagogue in Alexandria on VE Day, May 8, 1945. Photograph: Rudy Goldstein, the Bitmuna Collection.
Soldiers from the Land of Israel in Egypt. From left to right: Top row: Rafael Reiss, Dov Harari, Baruch Kamin. Middle: Shurika Braverman, Shaike Dan (?), Haviva Reik. Bottom row: Liuba Gukovski (possibly Yehuda Achisar), Uriel Kaner, Rico Luffy (?). 1944, the Bitmuna Collection.
A Life Story in One Picture: The Photographer Who Fell in the War of Independence
The discovery of an obscure picture in a family photo-album led Adva Magal-Cohen to embark on a journey to piece together the life story of the mysterious Moshe Weizmann.
A picture of a young man wearing short trousers, with a brief caption scribbled on the back: “Moshe Weizmann. He came with the Youth Aliyah organization and lived with the Teuber family. He was killed in the War of Independence in the Battles of Jenin.” This one image discovered by Adva Magal-Cohen while leafing through a family photo album, is what set her on a journey to trace the life story of a man she had never heard of before, who was killed decades earlier when he was only 26 years old.
“A young man in three-quarter-length trousers. In the background is a tent. Cypress trees on a hilltop. An unknown relative. I turn the picture over and the backside reveals a short explanation in my grandmother’s handwriting.”
This is how Magal-Cohen describes the moment she discovered the picture, completely coincidentally, while going through the family’s notebooks and albums to research and document the story of her grandmother, Rachel Teuber.
The Hebrew caption on the back of the mysterious photograph: “Moshe Weizmann. He came with the Youth Aliyah organization and lived with the Teuber family. He was killed in the War of Independence in the Battles of Jenin.” Click to enlarge.
The photograph of Moshe Weizmann discovered in Rachel Teuber’s photograph collection. Click to enlarge.
Rachel, who fled the pogroms in Podolia, built her home in Balfouria, a Jewish farming community in Mandatory Palestine. There, she opened her home to the young Moshe Weizmann, who arrived in Israel without family through the Youth Aliyah organization. Adva’s older family members knew that Moshe was a photographer and that he had photographed Adva’s father when he was a little boy. It was a picture Adva knew well, but it had never occurred to her to search for the photographer’s identity. Now, the thought would not leave her. Adva continued to investigate, but apart from the limited details provided by her family, she did not know anything else about Moshe’s life.
Adva’s continued search took her to the memorial archives for fallen soldiers of Israel. There, she was able to locate the memorial page dedicated to Moshe Weizmann.
Moshe Weizmann. Click to enlarge.
The page tells that Moshe Weizmann was born on July 9, 1922, in Vienna. There, he learned the art of photography from his father who was a reputable professional. Moshe immigrated to the Land of Israel in 1939 and underwent agricultural training in Balfouria for two years. Later, he was assigned a post as a guard at the British base in Ramat David. Moshe’s father Zvi managed to reach Mandatory Palestine and open a photography shop in the northern city of Afula. After his father died, Moshe continued to run the store until he was drafted into the Golani brigade and mobilized to the Jenin front. On July 10, 1948, the day after his 26th birthday, he was hit by an enemy bullet and died. His body and the bodies of his comrades remained on the battlefield for ten days or more, until they were finally recovered. He was buried in the military cemetery in Afula.
Yet this was just the beginning of the story.
Try as she might, Adva could not stop thinking about Moshe and she continued to dig deeper into the story of the young man she had never known. Little by little, she discovered details in the archives and managed to document Weizmann’s life and the lives of some of his family members.
In Vienna in 1938, the Weizmann family suffered at the hands of Nazi abuse. In one markedly difficult event, Zvi was forced to lift a heavy motorcycle, an incident which seriously damaged his health.
In the Zionist archives, Avda was able to discover Moshe’s Youth Aliyah file. It revealed that he immigrated on board the ship “Galil” in April 1939, after bearing witness to the riots in Vienna. Four months later, he wrote a desperate letter (in German) to the Youth Aliyah offices at the Jewish Agency in Jerusalem, asking for permission to travel to the town of Rishon LeZion. In the letter, he explained how his mother had died in Vienna a month earlier and that he was trying to enlist the help of a relative in Rishon LeZion to rescue his father from Austria (which was already under the control of Nazi Germany). And so he wrote: “Now it is in your hands, to grant me permission to save my father, therefore, I urgently request to give me permission to embark on this critical journey …” He signed the letter: “Maximilian Weitzmann, Moshe Weizmann, staying with the Teuber family, Balfouria”. The special leave was granted and Moshe successfully helped his father escape to the Land of Israel.
Zvi Weizmann boarded the illegal immigrant ship “Sakaria” in early February 1940. The ship was subsequently stopped by the British and Zvi was sent to the Atlit detention camp for six months. In August 1940 he was released, allowing him to join his son in the Jezreel Valley. He would spend less than a year in Afula, where he would reside until his death.
Aboard the “Sakaria”, the ship that brought Zvi Weizmann to Palestine, February 13th, 1940.
Later, Adva was able to locate people who knew the father and his son. They told her about the boy Moshe, who was the only Betar (a right-wing Jewish youth movement) supporter in a group of socialist youth. They told her of Moshe’s move to Afula with his father and that the two had established a photography shop. They worked there successfully for a few months. However, at the age of 55, only a short time after he arrived in Israel to begin a new life, Zvi passed away due to complications from the injury that had compromised his health years prior. Moshe was left alone and continued to run the photography shop without his father.
A friend of Moshe in Afula, related that he received a camera from him for his 18th birthday. Slowly, the story of the photography shop began to unravel. Magal-Cohen next discovered photographs taken by Zvi Weizmann. The photographs were taken in Vienna and were now being sold at auction. She also discovered photographs taken by Moshe Weizmann, on the back of which he stamped the words: “Photo-Weizmann, Afula.” The photographs are of Afula during the British Mandate, a demonstration against the White Paper, a pro-British rally during the war and a few pastoral photographs of palm trees in the city. Magal-Cohen also found photographs of a group of boys from the Youth Aliyah organization, with Moshe Weizmann appearing among them.
A photo of a Zionist march by Moshe Weizmann. Click to enlarge.
In the Afula municipal archives, Magal-Cohen found a handwritten letter by Moshe Weizmann. In July 1943, he requested a waiver for a fee required by the local council to maintain a signpost for his shop. Weizmann had been drafted by this time and was serving as a guard. His father had died two years earlier and it was difficult for him to pay the fee.
Adva also found a list of those who were called upon to be drafted from Afula. The name “Weizmann, Moshe” appears on the list as number 22. A document of those who reported for service was also published. Moshe Weizmann is number 36 on the recruitment list.
In December 1949, the secretary of the Afula Council wrote to the district officer and listed residents of the Afula area who had recently fallen in the war. Under the number 7 is written: “Weizmann, Moshe”. A note was added stating that the exact date of death was unknown. The location was listed as “near Zir’in.”
A letter in Hebrew by Moshe Weizmann to the Afula city council, requesting the waiving of a signpost fee. Click to enlarge.
The journey that began with one photograph revealed not only the image of Moshe Weizmann, a fallen soldier of the War of Independence, but also a complex family history and the story of a man whose family was shattered to pieces.
Finally, Magal-Cohen learned that Siegfried, Moshe’s brother, immigrated to London from Vienna around the same time Moshe arrived in Palestine. He was also a photographer and established a thriving event-filming business. He even photographed weddings of the British nobility and royal family. Siegfried and Moshe had planned to meet at the London Olympics after the war, but this reunion enver took place. Siegfried visited Israel once and went to see his brother Moshe’s grave. One of Moshe’s friends bestowed upon him two albums of photographs taken by Moshe during his years in Balfouria and Afula.
During her investigation, Magal-Cohen was able to contact Siegfried’s children – Moshe’s nephews. They told her that their father had continued to engage in photography and became the first importer of Japanese cameras to England. The family eventually shut down the photography business; today they run a successful real-estate agency. Siegfried’s children plan to travel to Israel soon and visit their uncle’s grave. They also hope to find more lost photo albums.
Thus, the story of the life and death of the late Moshe Weizmann, one Israel’s fallen heroes, was discovered in all its richness and history. Were it not for the persistent research that eventually became the book: “A Woman Sits and Writes – Rachel Teuber” (which can be found on the shelves of the National Library), Moshe Weizmann would be just another name, another number. A man killed at the age of 26, who today would be well over 90 years old.
