Memories
of Mir
By Rabbi Judah Broyde
On July 12, 1933, I set sail for Mir
on the Cunard White Star ship Olympia. This was before
planes crossed the oceans. It was a delightful trip. I always
dreamt of taking a trip across the ocean on an ocean liner.
Despite my young age, 15 1/2, I enjoyed the serenity, calmness
and peacefulness, along with the fresh ocean air. The ship
was like an exquisite hotel, lavishly furnished. They served
fabulous meals. It was a five day beautiful vacation, before
I arrived in Mir.
My older brother, Sheppard, met me at
the train station in Horodjie*, with a horse drawn wagon
like a tub, bedded with straw for the ride to Mir. As we
neared the town, my brother Shep pointed to the huge castle
on the right side. He told me that the castle was bombed
during World War I, but part of it was rebuilt by the owner,
the lord of the castle. One of the anecdotes stated that
in previous years the children of the then Graf, as he was
called, wanted to go sleigh riding in the summertime. They
had the road from Mir to Horodjie covered with salt and they
went sleighing. On one occasion, I saw the lord of the castle
riding through town in an open car. He was sitting in the
back seat of a chauffeur driven car. He had a full beard,
with his hair combed back. He looked aristocratic. Some people
say he was an ambassador from Poland to Russia. Some say
that he was an illegitimate son of the Czar of Russia. He
owned all the land around for miles.
As we came to the town, we had to cross
a small bridge over an artificial lake . We used to go bathing
in this lake. When we crossed the bridge we came to Vilna
street, which went from one end of town to the other, with
other streets branching off in both directions. All the streets
were paved with cobblestones. Narrow sidewalks bordered the
streets. In the middle of Vilna Street was the market place,
which was crowded with wagons, horses and cows on market
days. Two blocks after the marketplace, was a street to the
right, where the rabbi of the town lived. On the same side
of the street, the dean of the famous Mir Yeshiva lived.
Between these two dwellings was the entrance to the courtyard
of the Mir Yeshiva, a brick building, approximately a hundred
and fifty feet by 100 feet. It was about two stories high,
with no pillars in the middle of the yeshiva. The ceiling
was interestingly constructed with beams in the attic, like
a bridge. Windows were all around the walls and two wood
burning tiled stoves were in the back for heat in the winter.
In reality the heat was produced by the student body, four
hundred men, seated in learning all day from morning to night.
There were about 13 rows of back benches, 3 columns with
9 people seated in a bench. Then there were backless benches
between each back-bench. Every student had his own lectern
for his books. Twice a week the dean would lecture the student
body and once a week the rabbi of Mir would lecture. The "Mashgiach" or
spiritual leader would lecture on ethics and biblical studies
about four or five times a week. The student body consisted
of mostly Russian and Polish students, about forty American,
about forty German, ten Englishmen, three Irishmen, two Frenchmen,
three Canadians, two Swedes, two from Denmark, three from
Belgium, one South African, one or two Israelis, a Czechoslovakian
and an Austrian. You could almost say we had a League of
Nations. The students rented rooms in town and some women
folk cooked for small groups of boys who paid them monthly
wages. The dean gave most of the boys stipends to pay for
necessities.
The town, by our standards, was primitive.
There was no running water. There were wells from which the
people fetched their water. Homes had no indoor plumbing,
but outhouses in the gardens. If a cow walked on a sidewalk
and a person was walking opposite, the person would get off
the sidewalk to let the cow pass. The Mir cows had no respect
for the people.
I was in the Mir for six years. There
were no flights yet, and I did not see my family in all that
time. However, I corresponded with them. I would write a
letter a week and my mother wrote every week to me. My grandfather
was the greatest correspondent. I was his pride and joy and
he used to go around the neighborhood showing off my letters
to him. The war of nerves of World War II made them nervous
and they insisted that I come home. I returned on the ship, Aquatania,
which was a satisfactory trip, but not as enjoyable as my
first trip. There is no comparison to the lifestyles of here
and there. Never the less, those were formidable years that
influenced my life spiritually and socially.Written November
1999
*Horodjie has a variety of spellings
including Horodgia, Gorodeja, Gorodeya. When Rabbi Broyde
was there, it was in Poland and local towns were often
referred to by their Yiddish names. After WWII the area
became part of the Soviet Union and town names were in
Russian. Now the area is part of Belarus. According to JewishGen's Shtetl
Seeker, it is currently Gorodeya and 9.6 miles SSE
of Mir. You can see it on the map at the the bottom of
the Mir History Page.
Additional
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