The letters of our thoughts are the ideas present in our mind before they come to realization . . . Thoughts that are, yet not felt . . . The words of the subconscious . . . of the soul . . .


Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Ancestral Lands

My Great-Grandfather, Mordechai Dorfman (whose name I bear) was from the town of Biłgoraj, Poland . . .
I'm not sure why I went there -if it was a desire to learn of my past, perhaps some innate yearning to see where I come from, or even to better view the future- so I am therefore unable to say what exactly I took from the town . . .
I did not find any information in the town's records, nor could I find a definitive Matzevah (tomb stone) that belonged to a family member . . .
The earth was soft, molding to my steps in the almost barren cemetery -twice others had tried to rob it of its pride, the Nazis and Communists, yet still it still possessed a certain dignity . . . like the lone sentinel, guarding his forgotten post . . . the last Japanese soldier still fighting a battle that others have declared over . . .
Questions filled my mind . . . Who lies beneath my feet? A morbid joke crossed my mind -do I now tread on the heads of my forebears . . .
The name Dorfman means 'Man of the Village' -even today Biłgoraj is a village . . . devoid of its Jews, it exists in a happy nothingness, awash from the stream of normal time . . .


A model of old Lublin

Apteka -the symbol of Hypochondriacal Poland . . . I should have figured that they would make a mueseum

The bus

inside the bus


town hall

Town Map

The cemetery

fallen matzevos

a view

Yehuda #1 My Great-great Grandfather?

Gittel -My Great-Great Grandmother?

Yehuda #2


Simcha . . . thank you for going with me.


Mottel said...

I noticed that the Matzevos were painted various colors, something I haven't seen before. Does anyone know a source?