Kolin is a tiny town just one hour east of Prague. And to understand why the heck we were in this tiny town, you really have to know the story. Otherwise it’s like foreigners coming to America for 3 days and saying, “you know what I’d really like to see? Wichita…” And the locals would give them the same strange looks as the locals gave us when we told them we were leaving Prague to go to Kolin.
This is a story that my Rabbi in Denver told at every Saturday Bar and Bat Mitzvah, and I’ve been to a lot of Bar/Bat Mitzvot, so I’ve heard this many-a-time. I of course won’t do it justice and with such personal wisdom as Rabbi, but I’ll do my best.
Jews lived in the little village of Kolin for nearly 700 years until June of 1942 when Nazis occupied that park of Czechoslovakia. There were 480 Jews living in Kolin at the time. The Nazis gathered all 480 Jews and 2,202 Jews from the surrounding area in the city square of Kolin in June of 1942. They were then sent on three separate transports, first to Theresienstadt and then ultimately to Auschwitz. Of the 2,202 Jews that were sent to the concentration camps in 1942, at the end of WWII in the spring of 1945, only 16 had survived to return to Kolin. One of whom was the Rabbi of Kolin, Rabbi Richard Feder. All the rest had been murdered by the Nazis.
In all the other countries that the Nazis invaded, it was the plan of the Nazis to liquidate the Jews and to destroy the Judaica. In Czechoslovakia, Hitler’s plan was a little different. It was certainly to liquidate the Jews which he succeeded in doing. Prior to WWII there were 350,000 Jews living in Czechoslovakia, today there are somewhere between 1,500 and 5,000. So he did succeed in liquidating the Jewish community. Hitler made a point in Czechoslovakia to save the Judaica, the synagogue furnitures, and the Jewish ritual objects in the hopes of building a “Central Museum of the Extinct Jewish Race” in Prague to prove to the world that there once was a Jewish community and that he had in fact liquidated them. And so as the Nazis went from town to town, they collected the furniture and the Judaica from homes and stored it in the five synagogues in the Jewish quarter in Prague.
The torah stand, the chairs, the ark, the parapet, the Ten Commandments, and the candelabra of the Kolin synagogue never made it to the warehouses in Prague, they were smuggled out of Czechoslovakia and found their way to Zurich, Switzerland, where they remained in the ownership of the Liberal Synagogue in Zurich until 1988.
While reading a magazine that Rabbi never reads and will never read again, on the last page there was a small add from the Zurich Synagogue for furniture that had been rescued from the holocaust. Rabbi had the privilege of going to Zurich, purchased them on behalf of the congregation and brought them back to Denver to place back into service for the Jewish people.
What makes this so important is that to the best of Rabbi’s knowledge, this ark is the only ark, in the western world that has survived the holocaust. He knows this for two reasons. First, he has told this story at least x amount of times (the number continuously grew week by week) to as many as 150,000 gentiles and 250,000 Jews. Now, gentiles never argue with Rabbis, and Jews ALWAYS argue with Rabbis. So if 250,000 Jews cannot contradict one rabbi, then it must be so. Second, during the traveling exhibit of Daniel’s Story from the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC, the curator of the exhibit came to the temple, Rabbi shared the story with him and the curator responded, “Rabbi, there are three things you must know. First, my wife is Czech and she knew the Rabbi from Kolin. His name was Richard Feder, one of the 16 survivors. He died in 1965 at 95 years of age, and he lost his entire family at Auschwitz. Secondly, this IS the only ark in the western world that has survived the holocaust. And lastly, because of its importance in Jewish history and in the history of the holocaust, this ark really belongs in the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC.” And he thought we were just going to take it off the wall and hand it to him. But Rabbi believes that it’s more important that it stays in the chapel and that we use it each and every week, and that he tells this story because it’s a story that needs to be repeated and remembered.
Now if the story ends there, it would be enough; but the story does not end there. In the arks throughout Czechoslovakia there were 1,564 torah scrolls. Those torah scrolls also had similar fates and were taken to Prague to be stored in the warehouses. There they lay until 1965 when they were sent to the Westminster Synagogue in London and became the responsibility of Mrs. Ruth Shaffer. The Torah Scrolls were in terrible condition; blood splattered, damaged by fire and water, ripped and torn, unable to be unrolled. A scribe by the name of David Brand worked for twenty years repairing those Torah Scrolls and then they were distributed to synagogues throughout the world.
When Temple Emanuel in Denver heard they would ultimately have this ark from Kolin, they inquired whether there were any torah scrolls left from Kolin. And indeed there were two that were taken from Kolin in June of 1942. One was brought back to Denver and was reunited with the ark that it was removed from in Kolin in February 1989. While we cannot use the torah scroll because it is in very poor condition, we do with it every week, we take it out, we honor that community and we share this story.
And so after hearing this story for years, praying in front of that ark, sitting in the chairs on the bimah for my Bat Mitzvah, and carrying that Torah scroll through the chapel for Talia's Bat Mitzvah (pictured); I had always dreamed of going to Kolin, as sort of a religious pilgrimage, and seeing this synagogue and town whose story had intertwined with my own.
We arrived at the Kolin train station, hardly believing that we were actually there, and wondering what Rabbi would think about all of this. After a quick nap at our hotel we followed my google map print out to where the Synagogue is supposed to be. The only indication of anything Jewish was a plaque on a regular looking building. So we went in to what turned out to be the municipal information center and asked about the synagogue. To our dismay, they only allow people in twice a day and we had missed the 2nd one by half an hour… we begged and pleaded and the lady at least let us in to the courtyard.
The synagogue was hidden behind all those buildings and closed in on all sides. The building wasn’t architecturally interesting to say the least, but this was it, this is what we had come for and the emotional disbelief was overwhelming.
The lady did say we could go to the old Jewish cemetery and handed over the key to the gate and gave us directions.
The cemetery was incredible. Small, but a beautiful landscape. Rolling hills, mature trees, and at least a foot of ivy covering the ground and creeping up the massive tombstones engraved with Hebrew. We were the only ones in there of course. The sun cast shadows of the trees and tombstones on the ground. A very peaceful place, but the tragedies of Kolin’s long history were always in the back of our minds. For 700 years the Jews thrived in this little town, and now they have completely disappeared.
When we got back to the office to return the key. With sad puppy looks on our faces, we bought every post card and pamphlet with pictures of the inside of the Synagogue. It worked because the lady took pity on us and let us inside for only two quick minutes.
To finally and thankfully be able to see the inside was incredible. To feel their presence was moving. To be in that place of so many memories was overpowering. We were just in there long enough to snap a couple of photos, but not enough to pray or to sit and reflect on the people who once sat here. Their spirit is here. The Jews are not unfortunately, but their lives will never be forgotten. I was overwhelmed and brought to tears.
(not sure when the new ark was installed)
Afterwards, we recouped with a long lunch-into-dinner meal and walked around a little bit. Saw the gothic cathedral. It’s amazing that such a tiny town deserved such a massive cathedral. You could easily fit the entire population of Kolin in a church half that size. Interesting that every synagogue I’ve seen here in Europe (besides the Jerusalem synagogue in Prague) is quite small and humble. And yet every cathedral built during the same eras is so massive. Just an interesting observation…
We headed out the next morning for Prague, to get a train to Vienna, to take an overnight train to Rome (the sleeper car shared with 3 young annoying American girls and a very nice older Austrian man who tried desperately to be included in the English conversations that he could only understand part of, was an interesting experience…) But we made it to Rome and met up with Mom, who flew in that morning for a guided tour of Italy (and maybe to see her two eldest daughters as well :) ).
