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Berdina Shorten: Her long and circuitous journey to returning to her Jewish roots
By BERNIE BELLAN Berdina Shorten has lived in Winnipeg since coming here with her family from the Netherlands in 1953. Although Berdina was Jewish by ancestry (going back to her great-grandmother), she hadn’t been raised Jewish. It was only several years after having come to Canada – and having got married, that Berdina – and her late husband, Ken Shorten, both converted to Judaism.
Typically, the stories we publish in this paper about people’s wartime experiences have to do with the Holocaust. Those stories are all certainly horrendous – and almost always riveting, but when I happened to be talking to Berdina about a totally unrelated subject (the renewal of her subscription) and the conversation got around to her wartime experiences, I said to her that I wanted to write about her story.
I should also mention that I had heard Berdina speak at the Shaarey Zedek several years ago, but at that time I didn’t take any notes. (I can’t recall exactly why I was there or how I happened to be in the room when Berdina told her story, but I remember thinking that this would make a great story for the paper some day.)
In any event, here’s a recounting of the first part of Berdina’s story, based on a phone interview that I conducted with her on February .
First, a little history is needed, in order to understand the context for what happened to Berdina and her family.
The German army had invaded Poland in September 1939. After consolidating its gains there, Germany turned its attention to Western Europe in April 1940, first by invading Norway and Denmark, then launching an attack through Belgium into that country, also the Netherlands and Luxembourg (despite those three countries having adopted positions of neutrality).
The German invasion of The Netherlands began on May 10, 1943.
That is where Berdina’s story picks up. But first, a little background on her family history.
Berdina’s father, Theodore (or Theo, as he was known) was a master leather cutter. His “family was Protestant, but his mother was Catholic, so he was raised Catholic,” she said.
As Berdina explained, “his family had come from France in 1610. He used to say the reason his family didn’t go to the New World was ‘no pretty cruise directors, no first class cabins, no air conditioning.’ The real reason was they were Huguenots and they weren’t allowed to go to the New World – unless they went to England and went with the Protestants,” e.g., the Pilgrims on the Mayflower.)
Berdina’s mother (Anna), however, “was born Jewish” but, as Berdina noted, “the family never practiced Judaism. What happened was her mother was born Jewish to a Dutch girl and a German Rhine skipper. Her father died when she was four years old, so her mother went back to Holland, but her family wouldn’t accept her back because she had married someone who was not Jewish. She raised her child (Berdina’s grandmother) with the help of local charities and working in a grocery store.
“When she met my great-grandfather, he was more Catholic than the Pope, so she never practiced her religion and she raised her children as Catholic – but they were actually Jewish – by Jewish law.
“It wasn’t until I was 12 – and I had been sent to Catholic school. I was always challenging the nuns. I wanted to check out Judaism, but I wasn’t allowed.
I asked Berdina whether “she had an awareness that she was Jewish?”
She said she did. “I always knew. My mother knew also, but they hid it.”
I asked then how she knew about her Jewish heritage?
She answered: “My relatives. I heard conversations when I was a child.”
While, Her mother “didn’t practice any religion, her “father did. He’d go to Mass once in a while,” Berdina noted.
When the Germans invaded the Netherlands, Berdina’s father was in the Dutch army, fighting on the “Grebenberg (or the Grebbe line, the main line of Dutch defence)– where they held the Germans back for many days.” (Actually, it wasn’t many days at all – only three. The Dutch were badly equipped and totally outmaneuvered by the Germans.)
Berdina continued her story: “My father was a fantastic shot…But the Queen (Wilhelmina) capitulated. They were bombing the hell out of Rotterdam (May 14, 1940).” The Netherlands surrendered the next day.
Berdina’s father was taken prisoner and sent to work as a forced labourer (in Germany): “So my father was taken and put into a factory. He was a master leather cutter – making shoes.”
Berdina’s family lived very close to the German border with the Netherlands. Thus, even though Theo was forced to work in Germany, it was only a three-hour walk for him to return to his hometown – and his family. It seems somewhat strange to think of someone who’s kept as a forced labourer – which Berdina described as “slave labour”, yet who was allowed to return home on weekends, as she explained:
He was allowed to go home (where mother lived) once a week, Berdina said. “He was given one egg a week, so he would take that egg with him, so my brother (Corey, who was born four years before Berdina) would be able to have at least a little bit of protein in his diet.”
All the while Theodore though, was part of the Dutch underground– meeting with other members of the underground surreptitiously while he was in forced labour for the Germans.
Berdina told this story about one harrowing brush with danger her father had while he was in the resistance: “A story he told was that he was going to a meeting (of the underground) with a friend. They were caught by a young German soldier and the soldier” pointed his rifle at them and “told them to put their hands up. Somehow my father was able to overtake this young soldier.
“His friend said ‘We have to run.’ My father said, ‘No, we can’t. If we run and they find him (the soldier), they’ll kill ten people on this street.“ (That was the retribution the Germans typically exacted, Berdina explained.)
“So my father was able to get a hold of some liquor, put it over the kid’s mouth, then took his guns and papers to the nearest police station, which was controlled by the Germans, and said: ‘One of your soldiers was drunk and we took his guns and papers before he hurt someone.’
“My father was given a pass to go anywhere he wanted that night.”
I asked Berdina if she knew when it was that her father fled the factory for good and ended up going totally “underground” with the Dutch Resistance, but she said she didn’t know exactly when that happened.
When the Canadian army reached Holland in September 1944, anyone who had been in the Dutch army was able to join the Canadian army, Berdina explained, so her father ended up joining the Canadian army.
“When the Dutch army reorganized, he went back to the Dutch army.”
Her father was uncomfortable talking about what he did during the war, Berdina noted, but according to her brother, Theo had once told him that he “had killed at least one German that he knew of (a sniper) and probably more, but he wasn’t sure.”
I asked Berdina whether there were any other memories from the war that she wanted to talk about.
She said there was a young girl – only 14, in her town, “who was the first girl (in Berdina’s home town) to get pregnant by a German soldier.”(That soldier died in a plane crash coming back from North Africa, Berdina added.) “She was also the first girl to get pregnant by a Canadian soldier.
“After the war the people in that community were going to get her and shave her head and send her packing.
“My mother said to my father: ‘That little girl is still only 15 years old. She’s still walking around in Bobby socks and skipping with a skipping rope. Theo (Berdina’s father), could you please do something to stop those people from hurting her?’
“My father went out on to the street and he saw about 50 people coming for the girl. He stopped them.”
In 1953, Berdina, along with her parents and three brothers (two of whom were born after the end of the Second World War), came to Canada.
“My father started to work as leather cutter in the Canada West shoe factory,” Berdina explained.
“Maitland Steinkopf hired him. Eventually my father started to work in St. Boniface Hospital; he’d had a year’s medical training in Edinborough after the war – so he started to work in the hospital, in the x-ray department.
“He worked four hours a night doing piece work for Maitland. He made more money doing that than he did in the hospital.”
I was curious to know more about Maitland Steinkopf and his connection to the shoe business. I knew that Steinkopf was a very successful businessman who also played a leading role in the development of the Centennial Concert Hall, as well as being a prominent Conservative politician and cabinet minister, but other than that I didn’t know much about him.
Berdina said to me that Steinkopf’s success in the shoe manufacturing business was a result of his decision to go to Minneapolis at one point and come back with the Canadian rights to a line of shoes called “Hush Puppies”. That reminded me of another famous decision made by a local Jewish businessman – Samuel Cohen, who decided to begin importing transistor radios made by a company called Sony.
Turning to Berdina’s decision to become Jewish, here is how she explained how that came about:
“My late husband, Ken Shorten (whom I incorrectly referred to as Frank in my previous article), came from an Irish family – that originally came to Canada in 1690, and they farmed in the McCreary area.
“He worked in Eatons – and I worked in Eatons as well. That’s where I met him and we got married.
“Well, he was Protestant and I had been raised in a Catholic environment. We decided that we weren’t going to let the difference in our faiths have a negative effect on us, so we just stuck to ourselves when it came to the religious part.
“But that didn’t work for me and it didn’t work for him and I always knew about my Jewish heritage, so I said to him one day: ‘You know, I’d like to learn more about Judaism; it’s part of my heritage.’ And he said: ‘Me, too.’
“He had some very good Jewish friends at the time (who were all in the NDP). One of them was Cy Gonick, another was Harry Shafransky. He got to know quite a few Jewish politicians. He liked their ethics, liked their values, and so we started to look into Judaism.
“We went to see Rabbi Nesis and (the late) Rabbi Berkal, and we studied with them for two years, and then made the conversion.”
Interestingly, Berdina said that she also spoke with (the late) Rabbi Weizman, who told her that “You can’t convert – you’re already Jewish”.
“But, I said to him, ‘It’s my decision. It’s my journey. I want to do the process.’
“We had two children that we had adopted before we decided to convert – and we brought them in with us.”
I asked when this all happened?
Berdina said the conversion process went from 1973-75.
“We were officially converted in May of ’75,” she said, “and then we were married in the rabbi’s office again.”
“I sang in the Shaarey Zedek choir for 36 years,” Berdina added, “and my son, Theodore, sang in the choir for 20 years…and both kids had their bar and bat mitzvah together.”
“It was the best decision I ever made in my life,” Berdina observed. “It completed me as a human being. I finally fit – because I used to question those nuns. I must have been a real pain in the tuch.”
I asked, “Do you have relatives remaining in Holland?”
Berdina answered: “Yes, I have many.”
I asked, “Are any of them Jewish?”
She answered, “I have one cousin who recognizes himself as Jewish – and that’s it.”
I said to Berdina that what she had told me about her Jewish ancestry and her family’s subsequent conversion to Christianity, it jives with what I had read about how commonplace it was for Jews to have become Christians. I said that I recalled hearing from the late Rabbi Rappaport that only about one-quarter of all Jews in Europe remained Jewish through the years. The rest either converted willingly or by force.
During the course of our conversation, Berdina told me many more stories about her wartime experiences in the Netherlands, all of which were fascinating. Since she was only two years old by war’s end, naturally the stories she tells are one that have been recounted to her by others, but they are all worth retelling.
One that stood out for me in particular was about a Jewish doctor who was kept hidden by his Dutch housekeeper, unbeknownst to anyone else in the town. According to Berdina, when German soldiers came to the house looking for the doctor in 1940, the housekeeper said to them: “I kicked him out long ago when I knew you would be coming. He was miserable to work for and he never paid me enough.”
All through the war that housekeeper was ostracized by her fellow townspeople, as the doctor was universally loved. As Berdina told it, when the town was liberated by Canadian soldiers in 1944, the doctor emerged from the basement – where he had been kept hidden the entire period of occupation by the housekeeper.
Berdina is a great storyteller and when I asked her whether she’d be willing to tell her story to other audiences – as I had heard her do several years ago at the Shaarey Zedek, she readily agreed. If a day comes when Berdina will be able to tell her story to a new audience, I’ll be sure to post something in this paper.
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How to read fixed, daily, and progressive jackpot labels at Betscore Casino
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How progressive jackpot meters stand apart and quick display checks
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Some random thoughts on the AMIA bombing, Operation Solomon, Arab migration to Palestine, and Jeffrey Epstein
By BERNIE BELLAN When I received an email from an Ethiopian Jew who is now living in Winnipeg who reminded me of the incredible efforts made by so many different people to help rescue Ethiopia’s Jewish population and bring them to Israel during Operation Solomon in 1991 (Operation Solomon) I began to ask myself why that particular event doesn’t get paid more attention within our own Jewish community here?
Recently our community held another commemoration of the AMIA bombing in 1994 in Buenos Aires, which claimed the lives of 85 people (not all Jewish) and injured over 300. Each year B’nai Brith holds a solemn ceremony during which 85 candles are lit and the names of the deceased are read out.
Yes, that was a horrific tragedy, but I wonder how much it still resonates with people. There have been so many other horrible events since that AMIA bombing, including of course the massacre of October 7, but more recently there was also the Bondi Beach attack in Australia last December, during which 15 people were killed and 40 injured. Are we also going to have commemorative events held here in Winnipeg going forward to mark that particular event?
Compare the solemnity with which tragic events such as the AMIA bombing and the October 7 massacre are remembered with the total lack of celebration of something that should be as uplifting as was Operation Solomon. Could it be because Operation Solomon happened in far away Africa and the people who were rescued were black – and seemed so foreign to those of us who can even remember what happened in 1991? I don’t know whether there’s an element of racism involved in the lack of recognition anywhere of Operation Solomon, but I thought it most interesting when I was rereading articles in The Jewish Post & News written by the one individual in our Jewish community who did more to help in the rescue of Ethiopian Jews than anyone else – the late Elliot Levine, and Levine noted the total lack of support from the Winnipeg Jewish Community Council for what was known as “The Committee for Ethiopian Jews,” I couldn’t help but wonder how much race has played a part in sidelining Operation Solomon as a momentous event in the recent history of the Jewish people.
When one considers how much attention is paid to the AMIA bombing, which affected people who, simply put, look more like us, to the lack of attention paid to Operation Solomon – well, I think you get my point.
The Ethiopian Jewish community now living in Israel has had a difficult time being accepted by mainstream Israelis, but over the years many members of that community have made significant contributions to Israeli society and the more recent descendants of the original Jews who were brought to Israel are now proud Israelis. It would be nice for our own community to hold some sort of event to mark Operation Solomon, since it is now the 35th year since that momentous achievement occurred.
Speaking of past achievements, the furor over the Nakba exhibit at the Canadian Museum for Human Rights has continued to spark heated discussion. I’ve received a number of emails from various members of our community responding to articles I’ve written about the Nakba exhibit (and in some cases articles written by others that have appeared in the Jewish Post). I don’t mind admitting that I’m not at all sure where I stand on the whole issue of the Nakba exhibit. I can see the merits of arguments that have been made on both sides of the issue and I try to keep an open mind as I hear different perspectives. But, no matter what argument is being made, I encourage everyone to listen to what people have to say and think carefully about the pros and cons of the particular points being made.
As I noted in an earlier column, rather than descending into an argument over which group has a more valid reason to feel aggrieved – Palestinians who were forced to leave their homes in Palestine (and I’m not going to debate whether the majority left willingly or not; that’s an issue that will never be resolved to anyone’s satisfaction) or Jews who were forced to leave their homes in Arab lands, I’d rather concentrate on thinking about where can we go from here?
Unfortunately, the clear consensus in Israel now seems to be that there can never be a Palestinian state and even those politicians who might have been willing to enter into at least some sort of discussion about the possible creation of a Palestinian state have moved so far to the right – in response to the clear shift in public opinion in Israel that sees no room for even contemplating a Palestinian state, that the issue of a future Palestinian state has been completely taken off the table.
At the same time though, as much as I’m generally sympathetic to the Palestinian aspiration to have a state of their own, just as I prefer to refer to historical evidence when it comes to debating what actually happened during the “Nakba,” I also like to look at the evidence surrounding just how many true Palestinians there are.
By that, I mean how many people who call themselves Palestinians can trace their roots back to the actual land which can be referred to as “Palestine.” Remember that there was no such thing as “Palestine” per se until the British Mandate over Palestine began officially in 1923. Prior to that what we now regard as “Palestine” was simply part of the Ottoman Empire.
According to figures compiled by one of the pre-eminent experts on demographic in the Ottoman Empire, Professor Justin McCarthy, there were approximately 500,000 Arabs in what is referred to as Palestine at the turn of the 20th Century, while there were approximately 23,000 Jews.
By 1945 the Arab population of Palestine had grown by over 600,000 to approximately 1,100,000 while the Jewish population had grown to over 550,000. There is much debate over whether a good part of the increase in the Arab population was due to the surge in economic activity brought on by the influx of Jews, but let’s leave that argument aside for the moment. A point that I made in another column about the Arab population of Palestine at the time when Israel was declared a state is that approximately 750,000 Arabs left what had been Palestine – but whether they left voluntarily or not was irrelevant to me. What was relevant to me, I emphasized, was that there could not have been a “Jewish” state with a majority Arab population.
I have heard nothing from those who would criticize the Nakba exhibit at the CMHR about that point.
Again – as I noted previously, I’m not arguing the morality of what happened to the Palestinians; I’m simply making the observation that Israel could not have come about had those 750,000 Arabs who did leave had chosen to stay. I don’t suppose my making that point makes one whit of difference to anyone who is criticizing the CMHR exhibit. I just wanted to reiterate my support for looking at what happened in 1948 objectively. And I’m well aware that even suggesting that one can be “objective” about such a contentious issue is up for debate – but can’t we even try for a little objectivity?
Finally, what about Jeffrey Epstein – and what’s he got to do with everything I’ve just written?
Well, it was the persistently nagging questions surrounding Epstein’s relationship with Trump that led directly to Trump deciding to join in with Netanyahu and attack Iran. Trump was desperate to “change the channel,” especially when so many of his diehard MAGA supporters kept asking questions about why Trump was so keen to put the Epstein issue aside. So now Trump is caught up in a war that he thought would divert attention from Epstein, but the most likely scenario is that he’ll end up trying to bring the war to a conclusion by ceding control over the Hormuz Strait to Iran and abandoning the notion of forcing Iran to give up its quest for a nuclear weapon. And if the only way to reduce Trump’s march toward total authoritarianism is to elect enough Democrats to at least take over the House of Representatives then what we’re going to see is a bunch of “woke” Democrats in Congress who will be wanting to end American support for Israel – and, they’ll be pushing for a Palestinian state.
Thank you, Jeffrey Epstein, for being the cause of this whole mess.
Features
35 years ago 14,000 Ethiopian Jews were rescued and brought to Israel in a short, but brilliant 36-hour operation
By BERNIE BELLAN My memory of an event that took place 35 years ago was jogged recently when I received an email from someone who himself was one of 14,000 Ethiopian Jews who were brought to safety in Israel during what was known as “Operation Solomon.”
That individual wrote that he wanted to thank me for articles I had written over the years, including about the rescue of Ethiopian Jews.
Here is part of what he wrote: “I am an Ethiopian Jew who live in Winnipeg. I recently came across Bernie Bellan’s articles and i was very fascinated by the depth of them and the fact they are informative and educational. I am not sure if he wrote anything about the thousands old dream of Ethiopian Jews who at the end reached their destination Israel. Thanks to operations Solomon and Moses that airlifted the Ethiopian Jews to become Israel’s citizens. I personally am grateful for the support i got from a couple of Jewish individuals in Winnipeg….My ancestors were hiding who they were in Ethiopia and i will never stop from telling who i am and my support for Israel. Please tell Bernie i said hello and i pray for his health so that he will continue sharing his knowledge. Little did he know that one day an Ethiopian Jew will read one of his articles.”
Reading that email led me to look back at articles that appeared in The Jewish Post & News around the time of Operation Solomon, also a later article that I wrote in 2013 about Israeli Brigadier General Eden Attias, who was deeply involved in Operation Solomon and who appeared at an event in Winnipeg that year.
I would be remiss, however, to write anything about Operation Solomon without mentioning the absolutely pivotal role that the late Professor Elliot Levine played in orchestrating support among some Winnipeg Jews to help in the rescue of Ethiopian Jews. I found two articles Levine had written around the time of that incredible rescue effort in which he described the clandestine work in which he – and several other Winnipeggers were involved in reaching out to Ethiopian Jews at a time when anyone in Ethiopia who openly announced they were Jewish put their lives in peril.
To begin with, here’s some background about what led to Operation Solomon – taken from my 2013 article about Israeli Brigadier General Eden Attias. General Attias had played a key role in Operation Solomon, including having been on the ground in Ethiopia during the actual rescue operation. He was introduced at that 2013 event by the late Yude Heneleff.
“Henteleff gave a brief overview of Operation Solomon: ”In 1991 the Ethiopian government was threatened with being toppled,’ explained Henteleff.
“For several years previous Israeli operatives had been secretly working in Ethiopia to procure the escape of as many ‘Falasha’ Jews as possible (whom Henteleff noted should be rightfully referred to as ‘Beth Israel’.)
“Concerned that a new government would put a stop to this ongoing exodus of Ethiopian Jews, the Israeli government decided to implement a bold plan to ferry out as many Jews as possible in a condensed period before the window of opportunity was closed.
“Thus ‘Operation Solomon was born and carried out with precision. It involved the use of 34 aircraft, including several El Al passenger aircraft, as well as Israeli Air Force planes. In 36 hours the planes carried over 14,000 Ethiopian Jews to safety in Israel. In fact one Boeing 747 set the record for the most passengers ever transported on one aircraft when 1,122 passengers were crammed into the plane.
“During his talk Gen. Attias gave a detailed explanation of the events leading up to Operation Solomon, beginning as far back as 1862, when a group of Ethiopian Jews began the trek to Israel through the hostile territory of Sudan. Very few actually survived that journey, Attias noted.
“Through the years there had been various other attempts to bring Ethiopian Jews to Israel, with the most notable effort prior to Operation Solomon being ‘Operation Moses’, which was carried out in 1984. That operation was undertaken with the complicity of the Sudanese government and involved Mossad agents working to bring Ethiopian Jews to secret departure points in Sudan. Unfortunately members of the Israeli media learned of the operation and, even though they were asked to withhold revealing what they knew, went ahead and published details. That brought the operation to a sudden end, and with the rescue of only 7,000 Jews.”
Prior to Operation Solomon Ethiopia had been engulfed in a civil war that had contributed to mass starvation and brutal violence. In 1991 the Marxist regime that had been in power was threatened with being toppled and there was heightened concern within Israel – also in many communities in the diaspora, for the safety of Ethiopia’s Jewish population. As has already been noted, there had been other efforts to rescue Ethiopian Jews, but with mixed results. Thus, the bold plan to rescue as many Ethiopian Jews in one fell swoop was hatched. But in order to bring that rescue about contacts had to be made within the Ethiopian Jewish community.
How those many thousands of Ethiopian Jews were contacted is in itself a totally fascinating story. That’s where Elliot Levine’s description of the cloak and dagger nature of the work that was involved in making contact with those Jews was so vividly described in the two articles he wrote for us in 1991.
Levine noted that the vast majority of Ethiopian Jews – also known as “Falashas” (which is a derogatory term meaning stranger that was commonly applied to Ethiopian Jews by other Israelis) lived in Gondar province, which is in the north of Ethiopia.
As he wrote in the first of his articles describing the part that some Winnipeg Jews played in that rescue effort (published in the June 5, 1991 issue of The Jewish Post & News), “In April 1990 an agent if the American Association of Ethiopian Jews went into Ethiopia from North America….
“By May 1990 thousands of Ethiopian Jews had arrived in Addis Ababa with the help of a field worker placed by the American agent. A ‘truck stop’ outside of Gondar city was the rendezvous point. A few dollars a head paid for the road transport to the capital.
“By early June, however, an arrest had been made and a message had been sent out not to replace the field agent. Thereafter, those who made their way out of the hills had to make their own arrangements…
“With over 10,000 now in the capital (Addis Ababa), overburdened workers reported the weekly death tolls… By month’s end, emergency meetings and commitments had been made in Israel…
“In Winnipeg meanwhile, our Council of Rabbis was briefed on the situation and their response, among other things, funded an Ethiopian Jewish ‘agent’ we sent from Israel to assist families with particular problems.”
Levine went on to describe the invaluable assistance that agent played in helping Ethiopian Jews through “nighttime meetings, escorted tours that evaded security patrols and interviews with Ethiopian Jewish refugees.”
Levine noted, however, that the effort to help rescue Ethiopian Jews was organized entirely by a group of private individuals – with no assistance whatsoever from what was then the Winnipeg Jewish Community Council (later to become the Jewish Federation of Winnipeg). Further, the Committee for Ethiopian Jews – as the group was known, was an initiative led by members of Temple Shalom, Winnipeg’s Reform congregation.
At this point I want to return to that initial email I received from the Ethiopian Jewish individual who had reached out to me. In very dramatic fashion he described what happened when one father was approached by one of the agents who had been dispatched by the Israeli government to make contact with Ethiopian Jews and try to persuade them to flee their homes in Gondar:
“ ‘The silent call’ Operation Solomon
“ ‘good morning my name is …..i am here to tell you that we are on a mission to send a lot of people from Bet Israel( Ethiopian Jews) to Israel. And we know you are one of them. Are you interested’
“ ‘no I am not a Jew I went through horrible times I do not want to talk about myself and how would I know you are not a spy’
” ‘No I am not a spy please I know your family that is why I came to tell you about this mission’
“ ‘yes I am and please don’t tell anyone I am a Jew’
“This was a conversation that took place with the father of Anna and Jerusalem, 13 and 15 year olds who were sexually assaulted in front of their mother who took her own life the following day.
“That month in March 1991 preparation to evacuate 14000 Ethiopia Jews was planned secretly.
“In that same year 1991 bitter civil was raging in the Western part of Ethiopia, Just a month later the military junta was about to be overthrown.”
To return to Elliot Levine’s account of the role Winnipeg Jews played in the rescue of some Ethiopian Jews, in the follow-up article he wrote about that effort, he noted that Winnipeg Jews often responded quickly when told of specific urgent cases of individuals in need of direct help: “In the months preceding the airlift we had the luxury of responding to emergency appeals quickly….We in Winnipeg had arranged an especially prompt conduit – on most favourable terms. We also functioned as supporters of last resort for some of the inevitable cases that fell between the cracks. Recipients often confirmed receipt of our aid within a few days of our being notified of their plight.”
Ultimately, Operation Solomon helped rescue over 14,000 Ethiopian Jews in just 36 hours – from May 24-25, 1991. Non- stop flights of 35 Israeli aircraft were involved, including military and civilian planes. Almost all of Ethiopia’s Jewish population was rescued as a result.
