Returning Home: Rabbi gets family Torah back
June 26, 2006
By Diane Haag
Rabbi Foster Kawaler reveled in this victory.
To him, it was nothing less than a triumph over the Nazis and Communism and all those who sought to destroy Judaism.
His family Torah, rescued from the once Nazi-ravaged reaches of the Ukraine, was installed at Congregation Agudath Achim in a Sunday ceremony.
"It comes to us through a genuine miracle," he said.
With his father at his side, Kawaler presented the Torah to the congregation and read from it for the first time in nearly 70 years.
"You are home and we embrace you," his father, Justin Kawaler, said. "Your history starts anew in the new world."
The Torah, literally "teaching/law," comprises the five books of Moses (the first five books of the Christian Bible) and is the holiest item in any synagogue.
"Without it you don't have a congregation," Rabbi Kawaler said.
It is said to contain the writings of Moses as given to him by God, which include the story of creation, the early history of the Jewish people and all of the commandments. The format and language is meticulously maintained so that is has been basically unchanged for 2,000 years.
"It's the closest thing we have to what Moses wrote," he said. "It is the heart and soul of Jewish life."
The scrolls are handwritten on parchment made from animal skins so they routinely last hundreds of years. The Kawaler Torah was radiologically dated and found to be between 190 and 240 years old.
Its journey back to the Kawaler family began when girls from a Jewish school were touring an Orthodox monastery near Kiev in 2004.
Before the Nazis ransacked the area, Orthodox monks went into several synagogues and confiscated Torah scrolls and other items. For nearly 70 years, they have guarded the objects.
When the girls saw the stacks of Torah scrolls piled in a corner, they took pictures.
Those images found their way to Rabbi Menachem Youlus, called the "Raider of the Lost Arks" by The Washingtonian magazine. His organization, Save a Torah Inc., which is based in Maryland, has rescued hundreds of Torahs from Eastern Europe and other places where they don't belong.
Youlus is a sofer, a specially trained rabbi who writes and restores Torah scrolls. After refurbishing the found Torahs, they are then given to congregations who may not be able to afford their own. New Torahs can cost upwards of $10,000.
In fewer than 10 cases has Youlus been able to restore them to their original family.
"You'd probably do better putting the buck in the Powerball," he said.
A collection of Torahs this large is also rare. When he learned about it, Youlus booked his ticket to Ukraine to see for himself.
"I was floored that that many were in the same place and many tagged as to where they came from," he said.
But he couldn't let on at first. After some careful negotiating, he bought three of the Torahs from the monks. He chose the Kawaler Torah partly because it is smaller than most, and it seemed to be in good shape.
Getting it out of the country also required some careful dealing -- meaning in the false bottom of a truck. Youlus said the hiding places come standard in the country whose mode of operation seems to be bribery. Even to obtain forms, Youlus often throws in a $50 bill.
If he doesn't handle the negotiations properly, the consequences can be serious. Youlus lost two teeth in a previous quest.
The work is worth the pain, he said.
"It's not just taking back a part of history and making holy," he said. "The resettlement can give new life and new hope."
As he studied what he now knows is the Kawaler Torah, he immediately noticed something different in the way it was written. The script had a distinctly Italian flare to it.
It begged the question "how did an Italian Torah end up in the Ukraine?"
Youlus started calling around to his rabbinic friends. He called Justin Kawaler, who suggested he check Rabbi Kawaler, the family historian.
He and Kawaler have known each other for years, so Youlus called and first asked about the towns where his family originated.
It matched the tags on the Torah.
"He says, 'I've got something, your family Torah,'" Kawaler recalled. "I said, 'No, you don't.' And he says 'Yes, we do. " We can identify it.'"
He then went on to say something was different about the Torah.
"Tell me it's a Sefardi Torah!" Kawaler said, interrupting his friend.
Sefardic Jews trace their roots to Spain, Greece and other Mediterranean countries.
Kawaler had a longtime suspicion his family came from northern Italy, but years of research had never produced proof.
"I dropped the phone and had to steady myself," after receiving the news, Kawaler said. "But the miracle wasn't over."
Kawaler knew the Torah existed at one time. His family, as far as he could confirm, had its roots in eastern Ukraine.
They had done well for themselves in the timber business at the foot of the Carpathian mountains. Kawaler's great-grandfather Abraham owned a large house in the small town of Krasna and it became the de facto meeting place for all of the Jews in the community for regular worship services and other holidays.
By the time he died in 1939, two of his sons had emigrated to the United States, two daughters had moved away and one still lived with him. She buried him in the Jewish cemetery in the larger town of Nadvirna and left the Torah with the synagogue for safekeeping.
Abraham died just before Nazi atrocities struck the predominately Jewish area. According to a Jewish census, in 1921, Jews made up 34 percent of the population.
The synagogue was destroyed the next year. Kawaler described aerial photos that show the roof missing.
The Nazis ghettoized the city and brought their reign of terror even to children. Kawaler read of one account of children from a hospital being buried alive.
Those not killed there were eventually sent to a death camp in Poland. By the time of Soviet liberation in 1944, the few Jewish survivors had left town.
"I had no idea the monks had come in," Kawaler said.
He relayed the story and his research to an astonished Youlus.
Then came the best news of all. The Torah had been wrapped in a sheet and was remarkably well preserved. With a little restoration work, it would be completely usable.
"Any time you come up with something this old, that my great-grandfather, great-great grandfather, great-great-great grandfather and maybe even his father touched, it's an affirmation," he said. "It attests to the eternity of Jewish people. It makes me feel part of the continuum."
Many times when they are found, these historic Torahs can't be used in worship, so they are put in a case on display for people to "glutz" at, Kawaler said.
"Thanks to the monks, we can use it. This incredible link -- my son can use it and my great-granchildren," he said. "It is the centerpiece of things to come."
He imagines his great-grandfather with his white beard leaning over and studying God's word and his grandfather being bar mitzvahed with it.
Three weeks later, Kawaler could finally tell the story without crying.
He was still struck by how God worked through Youlus and the whole process.
"If he didn't know me, he would have left it or given it to some small synagogue," he said.
Sunday, some of that emotion came back as he relayed the story to a full sanctuary and shared one last bit of undeniable proof, his grandfather's name on the tag.
It also brings with it a sense of sadness that it survived when the people entrusted with its care did not.
"All of these lives were lost because of this Torah and what's in it," he said. "The people of Israel live."
As a visual sign of that continuity, his father, cousin and son all said blessings before and after the Torah was read.
Just before it was placed in the ark to join the other Torah scrolls, Rabbi Kawaler pointed out the new cover that was made for the scroll.
Lifted above the crowd, a stylized burning bush on a scarlet background made it clear that this was special. Above the image, Hebrew letters spelled out a verse from Exodus:
"Behold, the bush burned with fire and the bush was not consumed."
This was ran in our local paper. We only found one mistake. See if you can find it. It's a biblical mistake, not a mistake about our family. I'll tell ya if you get it correct. It was easier this way than to go into the way I felt about it. I somehow didn't make it in the pictures, but that's o.k. The left side of my face looked like I had a tangerine in my cheek. I looked like a squirrl that tried to chew something too big and couldn't swallow it. I hope you enjoy it. I have pictures if anyone would like for me to post them.
Tecee
June 26, 2006
By Diane Haag
Rabbi Foster Kawaler reveled in this victory.
To him, it was nothing less than a triumph over the Nazis and Communism and all those who sought to destroy Judaism.
His family Torah, rescued from the once Nazi-ravaged reaches of the Ukraine, was installed at Congregation Agudath Achim in a Sunday ceremony.
"It comes to us through a genuine miracle," he said.
With his father at his side, Kawaler presented the Torah to the congregation and read from it for the first time in nearly 70 years.
"You are home and we embrace you," his father, Justin Kawaler, said. "Your history starts anew in the new world."
The Torah, literally "teaching/law," comprises the five books of Moses (the first five books of the Christian Bible) and is the holiest item in any synagogue.
"Without it you don't have a congregation," Rabbi Kawaler said.
It is said to contain the writings of Moses as given to him by God, which include the story of creation, the early history of the Jewish people and all of the commandments. The format and language is meticulously maintained so that is has been basically unchanged for 2,000 years.
"It's the closest thing we have to what Moses wrote," he said. "It is the heart and soul of Jewish life."
The scrolls are handwritten on parchment made from animal skins so they routinely last hundreds of years. The Kawaler Torah was radiologically dated and found to be between 190 and 240 years old.
Its journey back to the Kawaler family began when girls from a Jewish school were touring an Orthodox monastery near Kiev in 2004.
Before the Nazis ransacked the area, Orthodox monks went into several synagogues and confiscated Torah scrolls and other items. For nearly 70 years, they have guarded the objects.
When the girls saw the stacks of Torah scrolls piled in a corner, they took pictures.
Those images found their way to Rabbi Menachem Youlus, called the "Raider of the Lost Arks" by The Washingtonian magazine. His organization, Save a Torah Inc., which is based in Maryland, has rescued hundreds of Torahs from Eastern Europe and other places where they don't belong.
Youlus is a sofer, a specially trained rabbi who writes and restores Torah scrolls. After refurbishing the found Torahs, they are then given to congregations who may not be able to afford their own. New Torahs can cost upwards of $10,000.
In fewer than 10 cases has Youlus been able to restore them to their original family.
"You'd probably do better putting the buck in the Powerball," he said.
A collection of Torahs this large is also rare. When he learned about it, Youlus booked his ticket to Ukraine to see for himself.
"I was floored that that many were in the same place and many tagged as to where they came from," he said.
But he couldn't let on at first. After some careful negotiating, he bought three of the Torahs from the monks. He chose the Kawaler Torah partly because it is smaller than most, and it seemed to be in good shape.
Getting it out of the country also required some careful dealing -- meaning in the false bottom of a truck. Youlus said the hiding places come standard in the country whose mode of operation seems to be bribery. Even to obtain forms, Youlus often throws in a $50 bill.
If he doesn't handle the negotiations properly, the consequences can be serious. Youlus lost two teeth in a previous quest.
The work is worth the pain, he said.
"It's not just taking back a part of history and making holy," he said. "The resettlement can give new life and new hope."
As he studied what he now knows is the Kawaler Torah, he immediately noticed something different in the way it was written. The script had a distinctly Italian flare to it.
It begged the question "how did an Italian Torah end up in the Ukraine?"
Youlus started calling around to his rabbinic friends. He called Justin Kawaler, who suggested he check Rabbi Kawaler, the family historian.
He and Kawaler have known each other for years, so Youlus called and first asked about the towns where his family originated.
It matched the tags on the Torah.
"He says, 'I've got something, your family Torah,'" Kawaler recalled. "I said, 'No, you don't.' And he says 'Yes, we do. " We can identify it.'"
He then went on to say something was different about the Torah.
"Tell me it's a Sefardi Torah!" Kawaler said, interrupting his friend.
Sefardic Jews trace their roots to Spain, Greece and other Mediterranean countries.
Kawaler had a longtime suspicion his family came from northern Italy, but years of research had never produced proof.
"I dropped the phone and had to steady myself," after receiving the news, Kawaler said. "But the miracle wasn't over."
Kawaler knew the Torah existed at one time. His family, as far as he could confirm, had its roots in eastern Ukraine.
They had done well for themselves in the timber business at the foot of the Carpathian mountains. Kawaler's great-grandfather Abraham owned a large house in the small town of Krasna and it became the de facto meeting place for all of the Jews in the community for regular worship services and other holidays.
By the time he died in 1939, two of his sons had emigrated to the United States, two daughters had moved away and one still lived with him. She buried him in the Jewish cemetery in the larger town of Nadvirna and left the Torah with the synagogue for safekeeping.
Abraham died just before Nazi atrocities struck the predominately Jewish area. According to a Jewish census, in 1921, Jews made up 34 percent of the population.
The synagogue was destroyed the next year. Kawaler described aerial photos that show the roof missing.
The Nazis ghettoized the city and brought their reign of terror even to children. Kawaler read of one account of children from a hospital being buried alive.
Those not killed there were eventually sent to a death camp in Poland. By the time of Soviet liberation in 1944, the few Jewish survivors had left town.
"I had no idea the monks had come in," Kawaler said.
He relayed the story and his research to an astonished Youlus.
Then came the best news of all. The Torah had been wrapped in a sheet and was remarkably well preserved. With a little restoration work, it would be completely usable.
"Any time you come up with something this old, that my great-grandfather, great-great grandfather, great-great-great grandfather and maybe even his father touched, it's an affirmation," he said. "It attests to the eternity of Jewish people. It makes me feel part of the continuum."
Many times when they are found, these historic Torahs can't be used in worship, so they are put in a case on display for people to "glutz" at, Kawaler said.
"Thanks to the monks, we can use it. This incredible link -- my son can use it and my great-granchildren," he said. "It is the centerpiece of things to come."
He imagines his great-grandfather with his white beard leaning over and studying God's word and his grandfather being bar mitzvahed with it.
Three weeks later, Kawaler could finally tell the story without crying.
He was still struck by how God worked through Youlus and the whole process.
"If he didn't know me, he would have left it or given it to some small synagogue," he said.
Sunday, some of that emotion came back as he relayed the story to a full sanctuary and shared one last bit of undeniable proof, his grandfather's name on the tag.
It also brings with it a sense of sadness that it survived when the people entrusted with its care did not.
"All of these lives were lost because of this Torah and what's in it," he said. "The people of Israel live."
As a visual sign of that continuity, his father, cousin and son all said blessings before and after the Torah was read.
Just before it was placed in the ark to join the other Torah scrolls, Rabbi Kawaler pointed out the new cover that was made for the scroll.
Lifted above the crowd, a stylized burning bush on a scarlet background made it clear that this was special. Above the image, Hebrew letters spelled out a verse from Exodus:
"Behold, the bush burned with fire and the bush was not consumed."
This was ran in our local paper. We only found one mistake. See if you can find it. It's a biblical mistake, not a mistake about our family. I'll tell ya if you get it correct. It was easier this way than to go into the way I felt about it. I somehow didn't make it in the pictures, but that's o.k. The left side of my face looked like I had a tangerine in my cheek. I looked like a squirrl that tried to chew something too big and couldn't swallow it. I hope you enjoy it. I have pictures if anyone would like for me to post them.
Tecee
