By MYRON LOVE “The place we call home,” observed Bruce Sarbit, “ – shtetl, town, city, country – is essential to who we are. We endow the place with personal meaning and it, in turn, provides us with a sense of identity and stability as we adapt to life’s circumstances in a rapidly changing world.”
For many Jewish Winnipeggers of an earlier era, like Sarbit, that sense of identity was first forged in smaller communities throughout Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Northwestern Ontario where our parents and grandparents – my own father and his family among them – found general acceptance as farmers, merchants and professional people while they also successfully strived to retain their sense of Judaism.
On Sunday, September 28, Sarbit was one of a group of four Winnipeggers who participated as part of the Jewish heritage Centre of Western Canada’s program “Beyond The Perimeter: Jews Outside of Winnipeg”, which was held at Temple Shalom. The four, in addition to Sarbit, were: David Greenberg, Sid Robinovitch and Lil Zentner – who began their lives growing up in Selkirk (for Sarbit), Portage La Prairie, Brandon and Esterhazy (Saskatchewan) respectively. The program grew out of the research conducted by Chana Thau, on behalf of the JHCWC, into Jewish life in smaller communities in Manitoba and Saskatchewan.
In Thau’s introduction, she noted the existence of several Jewish farm colonies that were established in the early years of the last century by German-Jewish Baron de Hirsch. At the same time, other Jewish immigrants (also all from the former Russian empire) to Canada were following the railroad and establishing themselves in the towns and cities that had grown up alongside the rail lines.
In the smaller communities, such as Shoal Lake – where I first lived (we were the only Jewish family) or Esterhazy (where Lil (Bober) Zentner’s family lived with two other Jewish families, the Jewish presence was minimal. In larger communities – such as Brandon, Portage and Selkirk – the number of Jewish families may have been between 20 and 30 at their peaks in the interwar years and into the 1950s. Brandon and Portage had their own synagogues.
The four speakers described many commonalities about Jewish life where they grew up. Their parents were storekeepers. Zentner’s parents, Max and Eva Bober, operated a general store in Esterhazy. Sid Robinovitch’s parents, Jack and Ethel Robinovitch, were proprietors of the Army and Navy Clothing store (which was a separate entity from the Army and Navy chain of stores which were headquartered in Regina, Sid pointed out) in Brandon. Sarbit proudly reports that his family’s Sarbit’s Department Store in Selkirk was, at one time, the largest independent store in western Canada. While David Greenberg’s father, the late I.H. Greenberg, was a lawyer in Portage la Prairie – and David and his brother, Barry, carried on the family legal practice in the community – his grandfather was first a journeyman lather who did plaster work on homes. The family later opened a second-hand store and subsequently constructed a grocery store – Greenberg’s Groceteria.
“The Greenberg grocery store extended credit to farmers and purchased their produce, which enabled it to thrive,” David Greenberg recalled. “I was once told by a friend years later that “Greenberg’s kept us alive” in the winter when they had virtually no money for food.
While the Greenberg, Robinovitch and Sarbit families arrived in Portage, Brandon and Selkirk respectively in the early 1900s – as part of the wave of Jewish immigration from Russia at the time –meaning the three were among the third generations in their communities, Lil Zentner’s parents, Max and Eva Bober were considerable later arrivals – having come to Canada respectively – in 1926 and 1930. They opened their general store in Esterhazy in 1936.
The Bobers, being newcomers, were more observant than Greenberg’s, Robinovitch’s, and Sarbit’s parents. Zentner was the only one of the four speakers who brought up the challenge of keeping kosher in a town far removed from shechita and kosher food. She recounted how her parents brought in kosher meat from Regina.
“We would buy chickens from local farmers,” she recounts. “We would take them to Melville (which numbered perhaps 30-40 Jewish families in the 1930s and 40s) to have them killed and then we would remove the feathers, cut off the heads and clean them at home.”
In Robinovitch’s telling, Jewish religious life in Brandon was “basic”. “We kept kosher in our home,” he remarks. “We brought in kosher meat from Winnipeg. We had a synagogue but, aside from the odd community event, it really only functioned on the High Holidays.”
David Greenberg noted that, for the first couple of decades, the Jewish community’s members davened in people’s homes. Portage’s Jewish community didn’t build a proper synagogue until 1950. Services were largely restricted to Friday evenings and the High Holidays. The merchants had to work on Saturdays. The community also made attempts to have a cheder, but with limited success.
While it would seem (from my own memories as well) that the general communities in those small towns respected the Jewish merchants in their midst – none of the four speakers mentioned any incidents of antisemitism – the Jewish families – even in the already more secular and integrated second and third generations – primarily socialized with other Jewish families.
In Portage – although the Jewish families did largely socialize with each other, the second and third generations also held leadership positions in the larger community. Greenberg noted that Jack Shindelman, Ben Kushner, and Irwin Callen all became aldermen, and Harold Narvey was re-elected chairman of the school board many times.
“My mother served as President of the Imperial Order Daughters of the Empire (IODE),” Greenberg noted, “and as a longtime volunteer at the Portage General Hospital Auxiliary. My father and his brother Allan became Exalted Rulers of the Elks Lodge, My Uncle Michael was leader of the Elks Band.”
In Zentner’s remembering, although she had many non-Jewish friends among the girls in her classes – her parents only got together socially with the other two Jewish families in town or Jewish families in nearby towns.
“In the summers, we would join other Jewish families at Round Lake, vacationing at Round Lake,” she recalled. “One summer, my parents sent me to a Habonim camp in the Qu’Appelle Valley where I met a lot of other Jewish kids.”
“For their social life, my family mixed almost exclusively with other members of Brandon’s Jewish community,” Robinovitch said. “There were Saturday evening poker nights and Sunday afternoon gatherings at Crystal’s Delicatessen. On Saturday afternoons, I would go to the movies and a couple of other Jewish kids in my school and I belonged to the Cubs and Boy Scouts.
“I had a few friends from school, but I always felt that I was different,” Robinovitch continued. “I was aware of being Jewish – although I had no real sense of what Jewishness was all about. I would say that the only time that I had any exposure to Jewish culture was when my parents sent me one summer to Herzl Camp in Wisconsin when I was 12 years old. It was a real eye opener being in an environment with so many other Jewish youngsters. I was exposed to a lot of Hebrew songs and, to this day, I still remember the Birkat Hamazon and V’ahavtah prayers that I learned there.”
The next year, the Robinovitch family moved to Winnipeg and young Sid quickly became immersed in Jewish life here. “In Brandon, I felt that we were defined by what we didn’t do,” he observed. “We didn’t go to school on the High Holidays. We didn’t have a Christmas tree. And we didn’t go to visit grandpa and grandma on the family farm.
“It was in Winnipeg where my identity as a Jew really began to take shape. Brandon was a nice place to live, but it could not provide the strong Jewish community values that emanate from a lager centre. A remnant of Jewish values still prevailed from the shtetl, but by my generation, they had worn thin.”
For Lil Zentner, the end of her time in Esterhazy came when she began dating a local boy. Her parents wouldn’t tolerate it when they found out. After a mighty blow-up, she challenged them to send her to Winnipeg where she could meet fellow Jews. Her older brother, Harold, was already here, going to university. Her parents agreed and they followed a year later.
For the Jewish community in Selkirk, Bruce Sarbit noted, being so close to Winnipeg, it was almost an extension of the larger city. His remarks were as much about nostalgia for Winnipeg as they were about Selkirk. “In my case,” he said, “I came into Winnipeg for everything Jewish – Hebrew lessons. Sunday Jewish history classes and YMHA clubs.”
The smaller city, he observed – at its peak home to perhaps 20 Jewish families, “fostered a strong sense of community among the Jewish families and helped them to hold onto their cultural and religious traditions, celebrate Shabbat, observe holidays, practise kashrut and maintain their Yiddish language as they ran businesses that necessitated interactions with the non-Jewish population”.
He added that his own father, Syd, who came to Portage at the age of three, was immersed in the general community as well – having twice served as president of the Chamber of Commerce, was also a member of the Rotary club, and once ran for election to the Legislature.
Unlike Portage and Brandon, though. Selkirk was close enough that the Jewish residents of Selkirk often drove into Winnipeg, attended High Holiday services here, visited relatives and, in general, partook of the activities, Jewish and otherwise, that the larger city provided.
Unlike Robinovitch and Zentner though, Sarbit did not spend all of his adult life in Winnipeg. He left Selkirk at the age of 18 for Brandon. For 40 years, the psychologist turned playwright served as a counsellor at Brandon University.
“The descendants of the first residents chose not to remain in Portage,” Greenberg concluded – in summing up the decline and disappearance of the other Jewish communities on the Prairies – with the exception of Winnipeg, Regina and Saskatoon. “Intermarriage was frowned upon and the children were too few in number and not close enough in age to socialize, so for girls to meet Jewish boys they were required to move to alarger centres, primarily Winnipeg. I believe culture was the motivating factor in their decision.
“Only my Uncle, Allan Greenberg, a bachelor, Harold and Mildred Narvey, and their son Bruce, who opened a chiropractic practice, remained. Bruce Narvey, as I mentioned, was the last of the resident descendants, before leaving after his mother died.”
Although Greenberg himself – and his brother, Barry – have lived most of their lives in Winnipeg, they continue to practise law in Portage and have had a history of community involvement in the Portage community. In recent years, David co-chaired the Portage and Area Beautification initiative committee through the Chamber of Commerce, resulting in seven years of service in the planning and implementation of the project. As a result, the committee was awarded its Citizenship of the Year award by the community. As for Barry Greenberg, he is a past president of the Portage & District Chamber of Commerce.
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