Mr. Monday and other tales of Jewish Amsterdam

22 Adr. Monday and Other Tales of Jewish Amsterdam

Yehuda Halevy, that is not the famous one of a thousand years ago. No, that is a brother-in-law of Bialik, and he runs a shop in ham and lard in Bialystock!"

When, after returning to Holland, I had written about my observations, Mr. Monday reproved me, telling me that I had observed Eastern Europe with the eyes of a man from the West. Hadn't I seen that within the boundaries of the ghetto, romanticism and art flowered bountifully? I had disappointed him because I hadn't seen that the Jews of Eastern Europe found warmth in their own surroundings. That there they were secure against new, undesirable influences. It was not all so hopelessly black on black, as I had described it, he pointed out to me.

The articles that resulted from the trip were published in the newspaper I was working for and later appeared in book form. One night I walked over to Manege Street to present Mr. Monday with a copy of the book. After all, it was partly his brainchild, wasn't it? He looked at the cover, read the title and said pensively, "You have chosen the wrong title. Jews in Distress? No, that is not the right title."

He thought for a moment and then said slowly, "It should have been 'Here you can read how the ghetto has wronged the Jews.'"

Years pass by. It is May 10, 1940. The Nazis invade Holland.

When the blond gorillas came to fetch Mr. Monday and his imbecile son and his sick wife, our cobbler put his resistance plan in operation. He barricaded the entrance to his basement. The dusty jam pots with their mysterious contents were taken from the shed. He had bought bleaching powder, buckets full of bleaching powder. And many