Out of the Shoebox Page 4
Raya listened to the story. When I pulled out the printed web page proving the existence of Father’s bank account, I saw the doubtful expression leave her face. “He’s continuing to send you gifts,” she said with a smile. “Strange, after so many years… or maybe it just takes the mail a long time to get here…” “Or maybe he’s just far away,” I replied cynically. No doubt about it – once the initial shock wore off, I was left with a good feeling. I felt Father by my side.
I waited impatiently for the new week to begin. I wanted to call Hanni Amor and tell her that I had a document signed by my father and Mordechai Liebman that attested like a thousand witnesses to their connection. On that day for the first time I felt a new need: to try and investigate, to look back and know more about my family. The story about the lot was important, but I felt that the message delivered was: “There’s a story of a family, an era, that’s been waiting for years to be told.”
A new week began. “That’s an amazing story!” was Hanan’s reaction when I told him the weekend’s events. “I hope you’re writing it all down… this is a story that must be told.” This time, his words seemed to echo those reverberating in my own head.
I called Hanni Amor at the Custodian General’s office, and told her excitedly about my visit to the Technion that resulted in my having an original document attesting to the connection between my father and Mordechai Liebman, “both signed on the same document… I found a document that had been waiting for me seventy-eight years.” The voice at the other end of the line showed no emotion. “Did you find his address?” No, I did not. That was the goal of the search at the Technion, but – as sometimes happens – I looked for one thing and found another. I’d found at least 50% of what I was looking for, and I thought that was the hardest part… Truth is, I was sure I wouldn’t find proof of a connection between the two men, but to my surprise that was precisely what I found. Still, it wasn’t enough. I had no idea how to continue searching. It seemed that the only thing left to do was review all the building permits for all houses on Hillel St. and find the name of the owner of the lot on which the house where my parents lived in 1935 was built. I had a vague memory that the lot owner’s name was Mayer Fellmann. This type of search was a desperate, time consuming act, but if I had no other choice, I’d do it. It meant 75 residential buildings, but it was doable. Hanni listened patiently, then advised: “Try the Haifa City Archives, maybe your father’s name and address are on file there… I need for you to find his address and bring me proof.” I felt this wasn’t fair. In my opinion, the document I found showed unequivocally that my father was the same Shlomo Zvi Finkelman who’d bought the lot together with Mordechai Liebman. What are the chances that another man by the same name lived in Haifa in 1935 and was Mordechai’s partner in buying that lot? I was determined to continue looking and find my parents’ address. “Okay,” I conceded, “I’ll start searching the archives.” “Good luck,” said Hanni.
By the end of November, after I’d despaired of finding new info, I called Haifa City Archives and told them I needed to find my parents’ address in Haifa in 1935. “It’s a waste of time,” a librarian named Luba replied. “The records from that period won’t do you any good. The only archived item that has the names of Haifa residents’ addresses is the Electoral Register, but the records for those years are arranged neither by address nor by surname, it would take you ages to search through them for your parents’ names, and most likely you won’t find anything. I’ll try to order from the archives whatever we have, and we’ll contact you when the material gets here.”
I was surprised to get a call from the Archives manager only three days later. To my chagrin, she said they didn’t have anything from 1935; they only had a registry of voters from 1939. “Sorry,” I said, “that wouldn’t do me any good because I know for a fact that at that time my parents lived at a different address – 4 Achad Ha’am.”
Still, I did not give up. I was sure that somewhere there must be documents or other evidence that showed where my parents lived. I began obsessively searching the web, trying to find ways of locating people’s addresses seventy years back. Though I knew rationally that it may be impossible, I couldn’t accept that thought, couldn’t give in and give up. I looked for clues to the existence of resident records, phone books, addresses from that period, but came up empty-handed. After a week of endless searching I came across an article about archives with historical information from before the establishment of the State of Israel (i.e., pre-1948), and thus Iearned about the Zionist Archives in Jerusalem. After a brief phone call, I decided to write to the email address on the Archives home page: “… I am searching for my father’s address: Shlomo Zvi Finkelman (Salmon Hirsh Finkelman) in the years 1933-1935. I know he lived on Hillel St in Haifa, but need to find the house number. For a while, at that address my mother Malca (Malia) Finkelman and my aunt Dr. Sima Finkelman also resided … Please help me find whether there is any relevant info in Haifa’s Electoral Register for 1933-1936; do you have these records in your Archives and do they contain exact addresses… Also, are there any other sources of information where I might find addresses where he lived during those years.”
The first, encouraging, reply arrived within days: “A preliminary inspection shows we have two folders containing the Electoral Register in Haifa for the years 1935-1936. The folder numbers are J1/6670/1-J1/6670/2. To look at them you’d have to come to the Archives and request for them to be made available in the Reading Room. Kindly phone to schedule your visit.”
So, first, I learned about the Electoral Register in Haifa. It was a book of all Jewish residents of Haifa, published by the Haifa Hebrew Community Committee in 1936. I learned that the census, conducted by calling on residents’ at their homes, was aimed at proving that there were more Jewish than Arab residents in Haifa.
I called to schedule an appointment. The woman I spoke with said that, as far as she knew, there was an identical set of books in the Tel Aviv City Archives. “Surely you mean Haifa?” I asked. “No, I mean Tel Aviv… they have a large, well organized archive, and if they have it, they’ll be happy to help you, and you won’t have to schlep to Jerusalem.”
I called the Tel Aviv City Archives and briefly explained to a polite woman named Nelly what I was looking for. “We do have what you need: we have several phone books from that period, plus a copy of the book of Jewish residents of Haifa, published by the Haifa Hebrew Community Committee in 1936, the same book as in the Zionist Archives in Jerusalem. As for the information, you’ll have to come here and look. The material is neatly organized, you won’t have any trouble.” I felt I was nearing my goal, though not at all sure I’d find relevant data about my parents; I didn’t think my father had a phone in his office. He certainly didn’t have one at home, because I clearly remember getting our first phone in 1963. As for the census, I fervently hoped that my parents were at home when the census-takers came knocking. I made the appointment at the Archives for the nearest possible date, January 22, 2012.
I had about a week and a half before my visit at the Tel Aviv Archives. Since I couldn’t stand the tension of just waiting for the time to go by, I decided to take a chance on a few houses on Hillel St. and check on the Haifa City website, with its computerized database, whether one of them had a building permit in the name of Mayer Fellmann. Let’s see, I thought, what would be faster: my random attempt to find info or the Tel Aviv Archives. Amused by the idea, I began my search: Number 7, Hillel – permit issued to Hanan Contractors in 1947. Ergo, irrelevant. No. 4, Hillel – permit issued to Ahuzat Yesha Co. in 1948. Clearly these buildings were built later. Maybe I should try further up the road. No. 10, Hillel – permit issued in 1947 to one Jaeger Engelrod. Though I’d known in advance that this would be a long, possibly futile process, I continued as if possessed: “I’ll pop over to 20 Hillel, maybe the buildings there are older.” No. 20, Hillel – I was getting closer, date-wise at least; built in 1934, permit recipient Beinish Weisler. I decided to g
o to lower numbers. No. 18 Hillel; built for Dr. Alec in 1934. No. 17 Hillel; permit holders Meir and Chaya Peppermeister, but the building was too new, from 1938. No. 16 Hillel; permit issued to Sugorinsky in 1941. Clearly, lower numbered houses were newer, so I went back to looking at the higher numbers. No. 24 Hillel; permit issued to Michael From in 1938. So I was playing roulette; the houses were clearly not built in any order. The next day I tried No. 14 Hillel; permit from 1950. I randomly chose No. 51 Hillel, which turned out to be the location of the city’s theater. For fun I reversed the digits and looked at No. 15 Hillel – Eureka! The building permit was issued to Mayer Fellmann in September 1934. The name of the owner corresponded to what I remembered from my mother’s stories, and the date was right. I was convinced that this was the address moved to from 6 Nordau. My parents resided at 15 Hillel, I didn’t have any doubt. It simply felt right.
Without waiting for Sunday I immediately wrote to Hanni Amor: “… after painstaking work I discovered several facts: Since I knew from my mother’s stories that my parents had lived for two years in a building that belonged to a Mayer Fellmann, I thought it might be the house on Hillel Street. I searched the original building permits of houses on Hillel St in Haifa, to see whether there were any owned by Mayer Fellmann, and sure enough, there is one, at number 15, built in 1934. My parents apparently bought this apartment (while it was under construction) after staying for a short time (in 1934, when my mother immigrated to Palestine) in a building owned by Haim Finkelman at 6 Nordau, Haifa (a building designed by my father and built for his relatives in 1933/34). My parents must have lived at 15 Hillel until 1937, when they moved to 4 Achad Ha’am, Haifa. I also found in the State Archives my father’s file; his citizenship application, containing 11 documents, from 1937, by which time he lived on 4 Achad Ha’am. On Sunday I’ll look into the books of the Hebrew Community Committee at the Tel Aviv Archives, hoping to find corroborating data there. The librarian has informed me that the material will be at my disposal as of Sunday. Next week, once I have all the information, I’ll send you the official application for ownership of the property, complete with copies of the relevant documents duly certified by a lawyer.”
Today I realize that it was a bit strange, to send such a letter a few days before actually visiting the Archives, but I was so proud that I did it – found the elusive address. Of course, no sooner had I clicked “Send” than I began worrying: what if I don’t find my parents’ address in the Tel Aviv Archives? Or if the address I find there is not 15 Hillel? Clearly, I had to find proof that does not rely on memory.
It was a tense weekend for me, trying hard not to think about my father, the lot, and addresses.
I arrived at Tel Aviv City Hall about an hour early, and treated myself to a decent cup of coffee and cake at one of the cafés in Gan Ha’Ir, the adjacent shopping center. I was the first in line for the City Archives. I went up to the woman in charge and asked to see the material I’d ordered beforehand. “I have them ready for you,” she said, “old Haifa phone books from 1935, plus two volumes of the Haifa Hebrew Community Committee; it’s the only census done in 1935-36.” The phone books looked like an old version of the Yellow Pages. Looking through them was fascinating, but yielded no results; I did not find my father’s name among the names of architects who had phones in their office. So I switched to the Electoral Register, which was luckily arranged alphabetically. I leafed through old, yellowing pages quickly but carefully. In Appendix I, page 534, I found it: Shlomo Zvi Finkelman, 15 Hillel St. And in the next line: Malia Finkelman, 15, Hillel St. And next to those, Dr. Sima Finkelman, also at 15 Hillel St. I stared at this line, aghast. What a cruel twist of fate! Sima, or Simka as she was called in the family, my father’s sister, the physician, was living with them that year. Had she only been able to adapt to life in Palestine and stayed here, she would have been saved rather than murdered in the Holocaust. She didn’t feel safe in Palestine, especially after the Arab attacks of August 1936 near Haifa, where people were murdered. She left, going back to the place where she felt safe – Chortkow – where a few years later she met her tragic death along with the rest of the family. This realization stunned me more than the fact that I’d found legal proof of my father’s residence in 1935. There was no longer any doubt: my parents had lived at 15 Hillel St., in a house they’d bought from Mayer Fellmann. My memory had served me well once again.
I asked permission to photocopy the page. The librarian looked at me curiously and said, “That’s interesting… the office of the Custodian General asked for this same material a few months ago…” I smiled to myself with great satisfaction; I’d succeeded in doing the unbelievable: I found legal proof of the connection between my father and Mordechai Liebman, and my father’s address in Haifa, based on original documents from seventy seven years ago.
My parents’ and aunt’s address in the Electoral Register, 1935
The following day I filled out the forms sent to me by Hanni Amor and attached a statement summarizing all I knew about the past, and the information I’d accumulated in the months that had passed since attorney Elinor Kroitoru first called our home. I’d succeeded in solving the puzzle. Amazingly, once the pieces were in place, they provided a clear, unequivocal picture. Each discovery was accompanied by a document that would stand up in court, and I was certain that the picture emerging from my statement would enable me to receive the lot purchased by my father:
“I, Yaron Reshef, am the son of Shlomo Zvi Finkelman (a.k.a. Salmon Hirsh Finkelman), ID 002266294 born in Chortkow, Poland on 24 March 1908 to Yitzhak and Rivka Finkelman; and of Malia (a.k.a. Malca) Finkelman, born in Chortkow, Poland on 31 August 1911. My father died in 1958, and my mother is still alive. When he was living in Poland my father was known chiefly as Zvi or Hirsh, and once he immigrated to Palestine his name on legal documents was Shlomo Zvi Finkelman. On building plans and permits my father used to sign as Zvi Finkelman. My father graduated with a degree in architecture and building engineering in Vienna, Austria in 1929, and immigrated to Palestine on 26 December 1932 with a student visa for studying at the Technion.
During the years 1929-1932 my father worked as an architect in Poland, and was active in the Zionist movement, serving as leader in the Betar youth movement in his home town, Chortkow. My father’s two closest friends in Chortkow were Mordechai Liebman and Shmuel Meiselman. Their signatures appear as witnesses on a declaration my father sent to the Technion in 1932 (see attached Appendix I – my father’s declaration, signed by the witness Mordechai Liebman). Both these friends perished in the Holocaust.
After his immigration to Palestine, my father lived at several temporary addresses, while he started practicing as an architect. In July 1934 he made a trip to Poland to marry my mother, and the two returned to Palestine on October 3, 1934. Their first temporary residence was in a building owned by Haim and Heidi Finkelman at 6 Nordau St., Haifa. This building was designed and built by my father for these relatives who had immigrated from Austria. A while later, probably the end of 1934 or early 1935, my parents moved to a new apartment in Mayer Fellmann’s building at 15 Hillel St., which they had bought while it was still being built. In 1937 my parents moved to 4 Achad Ha’am St., where they lived until the establishment of the State of Israel. In 1951 they moved to 20/6 Aliya St., Bat Galim, Haifa.
The apartment at 15 Hillel St. was also the home of my father’s sister, Dr. Sima Finkelman, during 1935-1936. She was a GP in Poland and came to Palestine with the intention of living here, but couldn’t find employment and, upset by the Arab attacks around Haifa at the time, she left the country to return to Poland in 1936. Dr. Sima Finkelman died in the Holocaust in Belzec (see attached Appendix II – my father’s page of testimony at Yad Vashem about his sister’s death; and Appendix III, Dr. Israel Shor’s testimony at Yad Vashem about my aunt’s death). I also have proof confirming my parents’ and aunt’s residence at 15 Hillel St., Haifa: a copy of the National Electoral Register in Haifa. The book of Haifa’s Jewish r
esidents was published by the Haifa Hebrew Community Committee in 1936. In Appendix Volume I, p. 534, the names Malca Finkelman, Dr. Sima Finkelman and Zvi Finkelman all appear as residing at 15 Hillel St. The two copies of this volume are in the National Archives and in the Tel Aviv Archives (attached as Appendix IV – photocopy of page from the book of residents with the names of my parents and my aunt.)
My father died in 1958 when I was seven. Therefore, most of my memories are from my mother’s stories over the years, plus documents kept at home for many years; plus information and original documents I managed to collect recently. When I was a child, my mother used to tell us how my father bought a lot near Haifa in the early 1930s. It would seem that the lot was around current-day Tivon. She further said that it was a dream of my father and a few friends from their Zionist movement days in Chortkow, to take part in founding a Zionist settlement based on industry, which is why my father bought that lot. She used to refer to the place as Kfar Haroshet. She said that my father, who was an architect as mentioned above, designed a building which was to serve as a factory there. Years later, after my father’s death, whenever we asked her where is that lot and what became of it, she’d just say that it wasn’t serious and that everything changed because of the Arab attacks and because of the war. She also said that the purchase of the lot was probably related to a crooked rabbi who fled the country. It was impossible to get any more information out of her, and my sister and I treated the story as an anecdotal tale. To this day, I do not have precise information about the location of the lot. Most recently, the subject came up (for the first time in many years), when attorney Elinor Kroitoru, head of Location & Information at Hashava, The Company for Location and Restitution of Holocaust Victims’ Assets, called us in July 2011. She told us that her office had located a lot which apparently belonged to one Shlomo Zvi Finkelman of Haifa, and advised me and my sister to apply to the office of the Custodian General in the Ministry of Justice in order to continue investigating our right to that lot.”