Features
The River – an excerpt from a new novel by former Winnipegger Zev Coehn
Introduction: The following story is an excerpt from a longer story in Zev Cohen’s new novel titled “Are You Still Alive?”
As Zev wrote to us recently, “this is Chapter One of my novel, “Are You Still Alive?” It is partially based on events recounted to me by my late father Moshe. The story, beyond being one of the countless tales of Jewish survival against all odds during the Holocaust, is also an allegory for the indomitable human spirit intertwined with Rabbi Akiva’s maxim ‘V’havta l’raecha kamocha’. I hope to have the complete novel published soon.
Zev’s writing has appeared several times in the past in this paper. His collection of short stories, titled “Twilight in Saigon,” was published in 2021.
Born in Israel, Zev lived in Winnipeg until he was 17, when he returned to Israel with his parents. He now spends half the year in Israel and half the year in Calgary, where his two sons live.
Chumak leads the way towards the river in the dark. I had walked the route from his hut to the riverbank in daylight a few times and am confident I know the path down to the water and back. This time, though, I intend to cross to the other side under cover of darkness. Chumak, who came up with the idea, eagerly insists on guiding me so, he says, I don’t get lost. He claims he can find his way blindfolded. I think he believes that if this works, he might soon be rid of us, although he hasn’t said anything openly about it. To be fair, my suspicion just might be a projection of my own pressing desire to escape on to Chumak, whom I trust implicitly.
This summer has been uncommonly wet, and tonight the clouds are scudding low, hiding the moon and stars and making it difficult for others to spot us. At first, the only sounds are those of our movement through the brush and the occasional whoosh of passing nightbirds. The path is not overly challenging, and my labored breathing and rapidly beating heart stem more from fear than physical effort. Though I’m soaked to the skin by the constant drizzle, it is a minor irritation in the face of what I expect lies ahead. The sudden rattle of machine-gun fire causes us to instinctively fall flat on the ground, but luckily it isn’t close by, and we move forward a moment later. Distant flickers of lightning and muffled thunder are the backdrops as I blunder through the undergrowth and futilely attempt to avoid trees. Banging my knee against a tree trunk while trying to keep up with Chumak, I stifle a cry of pain, and then suddenly, I slip and slide down the muddy embankment, unable to get any traction. He grabs me before I plunge headfirst into the river.
“Quiet, you’ll get us caught,” he whispers as he holds my arm in his vicelike grip. “There are German and Romanian patrols on both sides of the river. Be more careful, or you will end up dead before you begin.”
The slope ends at the lapping water’s edge, but the river is barely visible in the blackness. A dog begins to bark incessantly on the other side. Has it picked up our scent even before I start to swim? I have no choice but to take my chances. Along the opposite bank downriver, dim points of light seem to be moving—smugglers perhaps or night fishermen. It’s hard to estimate how far away they are. I hope the current doesn’t drag me to them, but there is no going back. At least, for now, no searchlights are combing this particular area. Chumak seems to have picked the right spot.
Lightning flashes again, stronger this time, and in that instant, I realize how far it is to the other side across the rippling current. My swimming experience is limited to a small, calm pond near home, where my brother taught me some strokes. The wide, flowing river looks ominous, but I’ve made it this far, and I can’t give up now. And Chumak urges me on. I’m already knee-deep in the water, shivering, but not because the water is especially frigid.
“You can do it,” he encourages me. “The current isn’t so strong at this time of year. You must do it. It’s your only hope. Go!”
I stop for a moment and turn to him. “If anything happens…if I don’t make it back, help Ella and Sophie, please. They have no one else.” I don’t want to sound as if I’m pleading, but I am.
“Go, nothing will happen. You’re going to save them and yourself,” he says. “It’s the only way. I will wait here till you reach the other side and when you get there, clap some stones together three times to let me know you are safely there. The sound carries far at night. I’ll hear it, and I’ll tell Pani Ella that you made it.” Amid everything, I notice that this is the first time he calls Ella by her name.
I move slowly into the deeper water. At first, it’s easy; the water is up to my chest, but my feet still touch the soft muddy bottom. Then, without warning, it drops away, and I’m flailing and swallowing water. Finally, I calm down, gain control, and begin to swim. The current takes hold and starts pushing me downriver. Sputtering, I force myself to fight the rising panic and use my arms and kick with my legs in a crawl that will hopefully propel me towards the unseen shoreline. It’s working, and I’m not drowning, but I’m weakening rapidly. The combination of sickness I haven’t completely recovered from since the camp and general malnutrition has sapped me of strength. My clothes are waterlogged and drag me down. This can’t continue much longer. How idiotic would it be, I think, if I drowned now before beginning my mission? Rolling over on my back, I take the pig’s bladder that Chumak wrapped the note in from my pocket, and holding it tight, I squirm out of my pants to lighten the load. I let the current carry me and turn on my back to stroke and move gradually in the riverbank direction. It is less exhausting this way.
I’ve lost any notion of time as I float on my back and see nothing but the overcast sky. Has it been minutes? An hour? I fear trying to stand. If it’s still deep, I might sink and not be able to come back up. At least the rain has stopped. Some clouds have dispersed, and I can see stars in the black sky. Then I hear it. A baying sound getting closer. Maybe a dog? Then barking. Yes, a dog. Thankfully I must be near the shore. My feet hit bottom. I totter through the shallow water and, in the faint moonlight, survey a pebbly beach fronting the tree line. There is no sign of the huts nor of the large two-story house Chumak had pointed out some days earlier opposite my point of departure.
The house, he told me, belonged to a certain Nicolescu, a wealthy Romanian and well-known smuggler before the war. Chumak suggested that my woman, as he called Ella, write a letter to Nicolescu in Romanian asking for his help crossing the river. I imagined that he would get the letter to the Romanian or at least knew someone who could do it, so it took me by surprise when he said, “You will bring the letter to him, and he will make the arrangements.”
It seemed like a far-fetched idea. Beyond the problem of my crossing the river, in itself seemingly suicidal, why, I asked, would any Romanian, not to mention a wealthy smuggler, have anything to do with helping Jews? This is probably a punishable offense in Romania and meant certain death in German-occupied Poland. Only gypsies were desperate enough to offer their services. Even if Nicolescu was willing to help me, I had no money to pay him.
Moreover, those who did pay were often betrayed and delivered to the authorities on one or the other side. There was no guarantee of success, and many lost their lives in the attempt. A few days earlier, I saw a clump of corpses roped to each other floating down the river. I didn’t consider my death an issue anymore, but I was afraid of exposing Ella and the child to the risks involved. I told Chumak to forget it. I couldn’t do it.
“What choice do you have?” Chumak pressed. “Don’t be a fool. You, the woman, and the child definitely won’t survive on this side of the river, and you will stand a better chance over there, as far away as you can get from the Germans.”
His understanding of the situation is correct. The local peasants were handing Jews over for some butter or sugar and an opportunity to steal their belongings. They say a drowning man will grasp at a razor blade to save himself, so I agree.
“Even if I manage to make it across, how will I convince him? I have no money.”
Chumak was skeptical about my claim of penury. This wasn’t out of spite that he had thought through but rather an inherited bias. He was of the age-old school that believed Jews always had hidden treasure somewhere. He was convinced that if I couldn’t offer cash immediately, Nicolescu would accept a promise of future payment from a “high-class” Jew like me. To me, this appeared to be just wishful thinking since Chumak admitted never having actually done business with this Romanian smuggler, who was out of his league.
Chumak remained adamant, and his confident tone was hard to resist. “Tell your woman to write that she comes from an important, prosperous family in Romania that will pay him generously for his efforts. Give him a written guarantee.”
Before I could change my mind, he produced a slightly greasy lined sheet of paper from a child’s copybook and a blunt pencil stub. I took it to our hideout in the nearby forest, where I cajoled Ella, who also thought the plan was absurd and not doable, into writing the requisite supplication and promise of reward.
Standing on the flat terrain on this side of the river, I realize that the current took me downstream, and I need to walk back to the Nicolescu house. I’m not sure how far it is, but at least I can see where I’m going in the moonlight. I find some stones and strike them together three times, as I promised Chumak, hoping that he hears me, and goes back to report to Ella. Not expecting a response, I walk close to the tree line, off the riverbank pathway used by locals and military patrols. When a searchlight sweeps the river from the Polish side, I scamper into the trees, waiting, breathing hard, and picking up a dead branch for self-defense. Going forward, I detour through the woods to avoid a small group of men sitting by the embers of a fire smoking and passing around a bottle. Hunters or fishermen, I believe.
The house lies ahead through the gate of a stone-walled enclosure. No light escapes from the windows. Nearby in the compound, there are two thatched-roof peasant huts, weak light emanating from one of the windows, and a barn where a horse nickers. I stop to consider which building would be best to approach, and then, as I take a step closer, the dogs come at me, snarling. I fend them off with the branch, hitting one of them in the head. It runs off whimpering while the others keep their distance, growling, and barking. I’m done for. They are going to wake everyone. I retreat into the adjacent cornfield, crouching there cold, miserable, and afraid, as a woman appears holding a lantern outside one of the huts. She calls off the dogs and shoos them into the barn. As she locks the barn door, she stares into the darkness in my direction before going to draw water from a well in the yard and returning to the hut.
I can’t stay here much longer as indecision eats away at my remaining determination. It’s time to make a move, either forward to Nicolescu, whatever the risk and chances of success, or back across the river in abject failure. I run to the hut showing light and knock hesitantly. The dogs continue barking hysterically in the barn. Nothing happens, and I try again more decisively.
“Who’s there,” asks a muffled woman’s voice in Ukrainian.
“It’s me,” I reply. What else could I say?
She opens the door a crack. People must be accustomed to seeing strange sights around here because she doesn’t slam the door in the face of the wet, disheveled, half-naked specter that stands before her.
“What do you want? Who are you looking for?” the woman asks as if I was routinely passing by.
“I have an important letter for Mr. Nicolescu. He needs to see it,” I say, also in Ukrainian.
She invites me into the hut. Alone in the single, earthen floor room, she wears widow’s black. Wrinkeled but unbent, her age is indeterminate. Most of the space in the room is taken up by a traditional wooden loom, while a large blackened icon of the Savior hangs above a stove. I rarely devoted attention to Christian symbols, having never, so far, entered a church and always hurrying by the ubiquitous roadside shrines in our vicinity with eyes averted. The narrative of Christianity and Christians as moral and physical threats was, since time immemorial part of our Jewish psyche, but I have no direct personal experience of it. Even the murder of my father by Jew-hating thugs, which undoubtedly weighed heavily on my perception of the people who surrounded us, didn’t feel like a religious issue. Now though, as I stand here shivering, Jesus on the cross seems to be observing me ominously. But, immediately, my attention is drawn away to a piece of bread on a side table, and without invitation, I grab it and chew hungrily. The woman sees that I am exhausted and soaked and tells me to sit and rest. She brings me a blanket and pours a cup of water, watching silently as I continue chewing the bread thoroughly.
When I finish, she says, “You are from over there. You’re a Jew.” It’s not posed as a question, and she clearly knows why I have come. I’m not the first desperate Jew who has shown up on her doorstep. To my relief, she doesn’t take long to make her decision. “I will take you to Mr. Nicolescu’s mother. She lives in the other hut. Maybe she will help you.”
“Thank you.” I’m wary of digging too deeply into the subject for fear of treading on sensitive toes, but I’m also anxious to find out what has happened on this side of the river and know what to expect if Ella and Sophie are to cross with me later. “Are there any Jews left around here?” I ask warily. “What about the Jews in the city?”
“They got rid of all our Jews,” she replies in a matter-of-fact tone. “They say the devil came for them. You need to watch out.”
“Come,” she beckons. “We should go to Nicolescu’s mother before anyone else sees you here. People won’t hesitate to give you up.” I follow her to the neighboring hut, where a tall, old woman approaches us. “Who is that with you, Bohuslava?” she calls out in Romanian. “Beware of robbers. I’ll get a stick and run him off.”
Bohuslava walks over to her. “Shh, be quiet,” she says in Ukrainian. “Stop fussing. He means no harm and just wants to show you something. “Come here quickly,” she gestures to me.
Grey-haired, slightly stooped, with one eye clouded by a cataract, she must be in her seventies but looks far from frail. She takes my hand with a firm grip. “Let’s go inside,” she says.
She lights a kerosene lamp. This is a much bigger and well-appointed abode with an ornate porcelain stove dominating the room and a dining table covered in a hand-embroidered red and white tablecloth. Adjacent to the stove stands a single bed occupied by a young woman sleeping, oblivious to us.
“Bohuslava, you may go,” the Romanian says. “Just keep your mouth shut, or it won’t be long before everybody is aware that you take in Jewish strays. We don’t need that kind of trouble.”
“What will I say?” answers the other woman on her way out. “That you have a new lover and a Jewish one at that,” she cackles.
“Sit,” the tall woman says, pointing to a chair beside the table. Like most Romanians living on the border, she is fluent in Ukrainian, while my Romanian is rudimentary at best. “Show me what you brought,” she asks. I remove it from the pig’s bladder and hand the grotty piece of paper to her. She dons reading glasses and concentrates on the message.
“Good Romanian,” is her first reaction. “Who wrote it? It couldn’t be you.”
“My wife,” I say tersely.
“Is she from around here?”
“She is from the city,” I reply. “Actually, we’re together but not officially married. She has a small child, her daughter, with her. They were forced across the river with others a few months ago, and we are trying to get back to the city to join relatives who might still be there. The situation on the other side of the river is deadly.”
“Yes, I know. It’s not really safe here, either. If you’re caught, they will send you back there without a second thought. Don’t expect much pity here because nobody wants to get in trouble for hiding Jews from the authorities.”
Not wanting to get into a discussion on motivations. I prefer to get to the point. “I was told that your son, Domnul Nicolescu, has experience getting people across the river. If your son could help us, we will take our chances. It’s preferable to certain death over there.”
“I can’t speak for him,” she says. “He is a good man, but I doubt, though, that he would be willing to take such a great risk. He was never involved in the smuggling of people across the border. It’s a bad business. For him, it has always been cigarettes and other contraband.”
I am surprised, honestly, that she speaks so openly of her son’s activities to a stranger… especially to one with a price on his head. Though she doesn’t hold out hope, her demeanor and attitude give me a sliver of confidence. “You should get some rest,” she suggests, “and I will take you to him in the morning.”
“What is your name?” I ask.
“Margareta. And yours?”
“I am Emil. Thank you, Doamna Margareta, for your kindness. I hope your son takes after you.”
She wakes the girl rudely and pushes her into the other room. “Here, take this bed. The servant girl can sleep in my room. I will leave some dry clothes for you and wake you when we need to go.”
“Thank you again. Good night.” I kiss her hand.
“Good night, Domnule Emil. Sleep well.”
I feel exhausted and drained, and my shriveled muscles ache from the unaccustomed effort of swimming across the water, but sleep remains elusive. It’s not the discomfort of the thin, lumpy mattress and the scratchy wool blanket that still hold the sour odor of their previous user, nor is it the constant, sometimes frantic, barking of dogs outside that keep rest at bay. By now, I’m also habituated to grasping moments of sleep in more dire circumstances, whether in the camp barracks or on the cold forest floor. Tonight I’m kept wide awake by the train of thoughts and questions running in a relentless loop through my mind. Are Ella and Sophie safe on the other side, alone with the Chumaks? Will Nicolescu agree to help without payment in advance? Will we be betrayed by the smuggler as so many have been before us? What lies in store for us on this side without any means for survival at our disposal? Should we hide in the countryside here or take the risk of heading for the city? I try to block out the most subversive, monstrous, cowardly, and tempting considerations, but they are there. The palpable fear of swimming back across the river toward the near certainty of death, tries to convince me that I’m now safer and that on my own, I stand a better chance of hiding and surviving. Yes, I would be abandoning Ella and Sophie, but by going back, I would only join them in being captured and killed. They would be safer staying with the Chumaks, who certainly would take pity and continue to conceal and support a defenseless woman and child. Or maybe I could remain here and just send the smuggler for them. I want to scream. I will go back.
The sun is up when Margareta nudges me awake and offers me a mug of hot tea while waiting as I put on the clothes she brought. They belong to a larger man, but they will have to do. I walk with her to the door of the house. A few people, already out and about, are on their way to work in the fields, some leading cattle and a flock of sheep. The men doff their hats and greet her, paying no attention to me.
Margareta instructs me to wait outside and enters without knocking. I hear raised voices inside. “Have you lost your mind? Why did you bring him here? Do you want to get us arrested? Send him away!” A few moments later, Margareta reappears with another woman, a pale ash blonde of about forty, holding a cigarette in her long elegant fingers with a worried look on her face — definitely not of the farming class. The woman scans the yard nervously.
“My mother-in-law told me what you want. I am sorry, but Mr. Nicolescu doesn’t do this business. We cannot do anything for you.” Her voice trembles and she is obviously terrified. “Anyway, he is not here. He is in the city, and I don’t know when he will be back. You must go. It’s dangerous here, and you will get us into trouble. Please go now.” She starts to retreat into the house.
I can’t hold her against her will, and if Nicolescu is indeed away, there is nothing more to be gained here. “Thank you, Doamna Nicolescu,” I say in Romanian and press my luck. “I will go, but could you kindly give me some bread?”
She goes inside and is soon back with half of a large loaf. I once again kiss her well-manicured hand and turn to leave.
“Mr. Emil,” says Margareta, “You should not wander around here in daylight. It’s dangerous to stay out in the open. Why don’t you hide in the barn till dark? It will be safer that way.”
“Again, you are so kind, Madame, but I must return to my family. It has been too long already. They are alone and will worry that something bad has happened to me. I will be as careful as I can.”
“Very well, if you must, but follow me.” She leads me into the forest on a narrow footpath that is a roundabout way down to the water’s edge. “Eat the bread, you need the strength, and it will be ruined in the water,” she says. I need no more encouragement as I almost choke, devouring it. She turns to leave. “Be careful, Emil, and good luck to you. I will talk to Nicolescu when he returns. Maybe he will agree to help. He has more conscience than that frightened ornament he calls his wife. How can he find you?”
“There is a peasant named Chumak. He knows where we are,” I tell her.
“Yes, Chumak. I know him. He also used to smuggle cigarettes before the war.”
“Thank you, Madame. I will remember your generosity.” She is gone.
I sit brooding among the trees looking at the river as the sun glints off the streaming water and listening to cheerful birds chirping. I can’t help but ponder the difference between the elderly women, Bohuslava and Margareta, and the wife of Nicolescu. I’m not surprised by the younger woman’s reaction. It is one version, slightly less brusque, of the general refusal to help Jews. But, all other considerations aside, who can blame people for fearing the fatal punishments meted out by the Germans and their Ukrainian lackeys to so-called Jew-lovers? Would I behave any differently in their shoes? I am more impressed, not to say astonished, by those candles in the darkness, people who have everything to lose, yet whose basic humanity causes them to stretch out their hands to support their fellow men and women. That rough peasant Chumak, whose whole universe is his tiny homestead next to an unknown village on the banks of the river, heads my list of the righteous. Now I add Bohuslava and Margareta to it. The existence of such people, beyond their contribution to our physical safety, keeps alive my essential positivity toward humankind and allows me to still retain some belief in our survival.
What next, I ask myself? I achieved nothing and have no other plan in reserve. Swimming back in broad daylight now seems suicidal. Maybe drowning is a good option? But that means abandoning Ella and the child, and I have already decided this is not an option. Bring back yesterday’s rain, I pray. I pray, though my belief in the idea of an Almighty, never cast-iron, has been dramatically undermined by the past year’s events. Then the wind picks up, and the miracle unfolds. Dark clouds scud across the sky, and the first drops wet my face, replacing the tears. In moments the downpour becomes torrential. I tie the new clothes around my neck and dive into the river, feeling more energetic on my way back. The current is slow enough for me to gradually dog-paddle most of the way across and finish with a few crawl strokes.
I’m carried only about a half-kilometer downstream, and elation replaces caution as I drag myself onto the riverbank and start walking. Climbing up the steep slope, Chumak’s hut is soon ahead, but when I approach and enter it, nobody is there. I look for Ella and Sophie, but the barn is empty too, and figuring that Chumak is probably out working in the field, I continue upwards into the forest towards our erstwhile hiding place. Ella and Sophie are supposed to wait there for me in case of trouble. I call out not to surprise them but there is no reply. I run to the hideout. They are gone.
Features
A Left-wing Yiddishist in Western Canada
By HENRY SREBRNIK I recently presented a paper on Khaim Zhitlovsky, a major proponent of secular Jewish diaspora nationalism and Jewish nationhood, at the Association for Canadian Jewish Studies annual conference at York University in Toronto.
Zhitlovsky was born in Ushachi near Vitebsk in what is now Belarus in 1865. A leading architect of secular Jewish culture and thought, he was a central figure in the progressive Jewish intelligentsia of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century in Canada and the United States.
At a Jewish International Cultural Conference organized in Paris in September 1937, the Alveltlekher Yiddisher Kultur Farband (YKUF) was founded, and he was one of the supporters. As the honorary president of the YKUF in the United States, Zhitlovsky became an icon of the Yiddishist Communist movement, particularly in western Canada, where he had inspired the founding of a strong secular Yiddish school system. At the fifth Canadian Labour Zionist conference, held in Montreal in 1910, Zhitlovsky had made a plea for Yiddish schools, saying, “If you reject Yiddish, the Jewish proletariat will reject you.”
During the Second World War, the Communist-dominated YKUF became the most important ideological vehicle for the pro-Soviet Jewish movement in Canada. It included Winnipeg activists such as Dr. Benjamin A. Victor, who had come to Canada in 1912 as a child, from the small town of Zhlobin in Belarus, and grew up in Winnipeg’s North End. He and others devoted their political energies to YKUF work and by early 1941 there were three YKUF reading circles in Winnipeg.
Much of this activity was also due to the arrival in Winnipeg of the new principal of the Communist-organized Sholem Aleichem School (formerly the Liberty Temple School), Labl Basman. Victor addressed meetings, speaking about the works of Zhitlovsky and Zishe Weinper, both prominent New York-based Yiddishists and YKUF leaders.
“Dr. B.A.Victor must be counted as being one of the most important workers in the progressive Jewish cultural movement in Winnipeg, and in particular the YKUF,” wrote Basman in the Kanader Yidishe Vochenblat, the weekly newspaper of the Canadian Jewish Communists, in the spring of 1942. “Dr. Victor has always stood in the forefront of every cultural-social movement that has been progressive and in the interests of the masses.”
Winnipeg, which Zhitlovsky visited frequently over the years, was, in the words of Jack Switzer, “a Zhitlovsky fortress.” Zhitlovsky’s 75th birthday in the autumn of 1941 had been celebrated by the organization in all of its branches across the country. When he again visited Canada in April 1942, a new YKUF men’s club was named in his honour in Winnipeg. Montreal poet Sholem Shtern, in one laudatory profile, depicted Zhitlovsky’s struggle on behalf of Yiddish language and culture, against assimilationists on both left and right, and against Zionist Hebraists. “In Yiddish Zhitlovsky sees that great progressive strength which will enable it to bring into being a new era in Jewish life.”
So Zhitlovsky’s sudden death on May 6, 1943, in Calgary, while he was on a cross-Canada lecture tour, “hit us like a thunderbolt” and “brought about sadness throughout the country,” declared the Vochenblat.
Labl Basman reported on Zhitlovsky’s last trip to Winnipeg. His two lectures had been attended by some 1,300 people, and, Basman observed, “provided the progressive Jewish community with a clear and outstanding analysis of these catastrophic times.” Zhitlovsky had stressed that support for the Soviet Union was imperative; the USSR needed to emerge from the war strengthened and with a prominent role in any post-war settlement. The Soviet Union was the centre of world progress and Jews would benefit greatly from a strong USSR, since this would mean the end of anti-Semitism and the solution of the Jewish question.
Louis Pearlman of Calgary, who was cultural chair of that city’s Peretz Shule, described Zhitlovsky’s visit to the city where he would pass away, in the Vochenblat. Zhitlovsky arrived in Calgary from Winnipeg on April 28, in good spirits, and was scheduled to give six lectures over a two-week period. About 100 people turned out for his first lecture on April 30, in the Peretz Shule, on “Socialism and Religion.”
He spoke again May 2, to 150 people, on “The Spiritual Battle of the Jewish People for its Survival.” His third lecture, on May 4, dealt with Judaism and Christianity and was also well received. But a day later he had a heart attack and was taken to a hospital; he died on May 6. Pearlman accompanied Zhitlovsky’s body back to New York and attended his funeral there.
The Vochenblat reprinted Zhitlovsky’s greetings to Birobidzhan, the Jewish Autonomous Region in the Soviet far east, on its 15th anniversary, which he had released on April 25. “Our Jewish people now has two countries in which a new Jewish life is being built, a normal life” one where Jews will live in Jewish towns and Jewish cities, “just like all the other peoples on earth,” he wrote. “The two countries are Birobidzhan and Erets Yisroel.” They ought not to be seen as antagonistic alternatives, he declared. In both, Jewish life would become “normalized” and Jews would flourish.
“Every Jewish accomplishment in both countries gives us courage in the struggle for our survival, elevates the prestige of our people in the eyes of the non-Jewish world, and strengthens our desire for the complete national liberation of our people, with the complete rights and strengths of membership in the fraternal family of nations. May the Jewish nation of Birobidzhan have long life and mature in freedom!”
Of course we now know the Birobidzhan project was a dismal failure, nor was the Soviet Union the “promised land” dreamt of by the Jewish left. Perhaps an entry in the third volume of the Leksikon Fun Der Nayer Yidisher Literatur, published in 1960 by the Congress of Jewish Culture, sums Zhitlovsky up best:
“A man who adopted, abandoned, or lost interest in so many different political programs and causes; who joined, left, or drifted away from so many parties was probably destined, at least in the short run, to oblivion. At varying times, he was a sharp opponent of Zionism and a Zionist, an anti-territorialist and a territorialist, a supporter of the Jewish Labour Bund and one of its harshest critics, a Socialist Revolutionary and an apologist for Bolshevism. He was a kind of ideological nomad, forever on the move” — and so now virtually forgotten.
Henry Srebrnik is a professor emeritus of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
How to Get and Compare Vehicle Shipping Quotes for State-to-State Car Transport
Every year, millions of Americans ship their vehicles across state lines, whether relocating for a new career, purchasing a dream car online, or escaping to a warmer climate for the winter. Navigating the logistics of moving a vehicle can initially feel like a complex puzzle. With dozens of carriers on the market and widely varying pricing structures, knowing how to secure and evaluate accurate vehicle shipping quotes is essential for a stress-free experience.
This guide breaks down exactly what factors influence the cost of interstate auto transport. You will learn how to evaluate your options effectively, understand the critical differences between transport methods, and identify what to watch out for when selecting a carrier. By following these insights, you can ensure your vehicle reaches its destination safely and without overpaying.
What Is Vehicle Shipping and When Do You Need It?
Vehicle shipping is a specialized logistics service where a licensed auto carrier transports your car, truck, or SUV from one location to another over long distances. Instead of driving the vehicle yourself, accumulating mileage, and spending days on the road, a transport company loads your vehicle onto a specialized trailer for delivery.
There are several common scenarios where professional auto transport makes sense:
- Corporate or Personal Relocation: Moving across the country requires coordinating moving trucks, flights, and housing. Shipping your car eliminates the cross-country drive entirely.
- Online Vehicle Purchases: If you buy a vehicle from an out-of-state dealership or private seller, auto transport provides a safe way to bring it home.
- Snowbirds and Seasonal Travel: Many retirees split their year between warmer and cooler states. Shipping a car twice a year is standard practice to avoid long, taxing drives.
- Military Permanent Change of Station (PCS): Active-duty military personnel frequently relocate on short timelines. Professional auto shipping ensures the vehicle arrives at the new base promptly.
- Classic or Collector Car Acquisitions: Buyers of rare vehicles at auctions often need enclosed transport to move their purchase without adding road miles.
Types of Car Transport: Shipping vs. Towing
Before requesting estimates, it is important to understand the different transport methods available. The industry primarily divides into standard auto shipping using large multi-car carriers and towing services, which use smaller specialized trucks for specific situations.
Here is a side-by-side comparison of the three main options:
| Cost | Lowest | Highest | Mid-range |
| Vehicle Protection | Basic (road exposure) | Maximum (fully covered) | Depends on rig type |
| Best For | Standard commuter vehicles | Luxury, classic, exotic cars | Non-running or damaged vehicles |
| Typical Delivery Time | Standard (5–14 days) | Standard / flexible | Faster for short routes |
| Availability | High nationwide coverage | Limited specialty carriers | High broad availability |
| Average Cost (coast-to-coast) | $1,000–$1,500 | $1,800–$3,000 | Varies by distance |
Open Carrier Transport
This is the industry standard and accounts for the vast majority of all shipments. Your vehicle is loaded onto an open-air multi-car trailer, similar to those used by dealerships to receive new inventory. It is highly cost-effective and readily available, making it the default choice for standard commuter vehicles.
Enclosed Carrier Transport
If you own a classic, luxury, or heavily modified vehicle, enclosed transport offers superior protection. The trailer is fully covered, shielding the vehicle from road debris, UV exposure, dust, and harsh weather. Insurance coverage limits are also typically higher with enclosed carriers, an important consideration for high-value vehicles.
Interstate Towing
Towing typically involves a flatbed tow truck or a single-vehicle hauler. This method is frequently used for non-running vehicles, accident recoveries, or short-distance moves across a nearby state border where booking a full multi-car carrier is unnecessary. Costs are more variable and depend heavily on distance and the type of tow rig required.
What Affects Vehicle Shipping Quotes?
Transport pricing is not a flat rate it fluctuates based on supply, demand, and specific logistical details. When you review estimates from various providers, the numbers will vary based on several key factors. Understanding these variables helps you evaluate quotes accurately and avoid being misled by artificially low bids.
| Industry Insight: Open carrier cross-country transport typically ranges from $1,000 to $1,500. Enclosed carrier service for the same route costs approximately $1,800 to $3,000. These figures serve as a baseline for evaluating whether a quote is realistic. |
Here is a breakdown of the variables that most significantly impact your final price:
| Distance | Short hauls under 500 miles | Transcontinental routes (2,000+ miles) |
| Vehicle Size & Weight | Standard sedan or compact car | Full-size SUV, pickup truck, van |
| Transport Type | Open carrier | Enclosed carrier |
| Delivery Timeline | Flexible window (7–14 days) | Expedited (1–3 days) |
| Seasonality | Fall and winter (lower demand) | Summer and early spring (peak season) |
| Pickup/Drop-off Method | Terminal-to-terminal | Door-to-door service |
| Vehicle Operability | Running and driveable | Non-running (requires winch/special rig) |
| Route Popularity | High-traffic corridors (CA–FL, NY–TX) | Rural or remote destinations |
Larger vehicles, such as full-size SUVs and pickup trucks, occupy more physical space on the trailer and add considerable weight. Carriers must carefully balance loads across trailer axles to comply with federal weight regulations, which is why heavier vehicles consistently attract a higher shipping fee. Non-running vehicles require special handling equipment and add time at pickup, which is also reflected in the price.
How to Get Accurate Vehicle Shipping Quotes
Obtaining reliable estimates requires more than submitting a basic inquiry. The more precise the information you provide upfront, the more accurate your quotes will be and the fewer unpleasant surprises you will encounter at pickup.
Follow this step-by-step process to get comparable, apples-to-apples estimates:
- Gather your vehicle specifications: year, make, model, trim level, and whether the car runs and drives under its own power.
- Determine your ideal timeline: your earliest available pickup date and your required delivery window.
- Decide on transport type: open or enclosed, based on your vehicle’s value, condition, and your budget.
- Request multiple estimates: contact at least three to five providers to establish the current market rate for your specific route and vehicle.
- Compare total cost, not just the base rate: ask whether the quote includes insurance coverage, fuel surcharges, and any accessorial fees.
- Verify credentials before booking: confirm the provider’s MC number and USDOT registration through the FMCSA database.
To streamline this process and ensure you are evaluating vetted, licensed companies side by side, you can gather and compare vehicle shipping quotes in one centralized place rather than tracking down individual providers manually.
Broker vs. Direct Carrier: Know the Difference
One of the most commonly misunderstood aspects of the auto transport industry is the difference between a broker and a direct carrier.
- Auto Transport Broker: An intermediary who connects customers with a network of independent owner-operators and carriers. Brokers offer wider availability and competitive pricing through volume, but you may deal with a third party throughout the process.
- Direct Carrier: A company that owns its trucks and employs its drivers directly. Communication is streamlined, and there is a single point of contact from pickup to delivery.
Neither model is inherently superior. Brokers often have better availability on difficult routes; direct carriers can offer more consistency on popular corridors. Always ask which model the company uses before committing.
State-to-State Car Towing: What You Need to Know
While standard shipping is ideal for long-distance moves, specialized towing is sometimes the more practical choice. If your vehicle has suffered a mechanical failure, sustained collision damage, or you need to move it a short distance across a nearby state border, flatbed towing provides a faster solution.
When arranging state to state car towing, there are specific legal and logistical requirements to keep in mind. Tow trucks crossing state lines are considered interstate commercial vehicles and must comply with Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration (FMCSA) regulations, including maintaining a valid USDOT number, adhering to Hours of Service (HOS) rules under 49 CFR 395, and carrying appropriate federal insurance.
Additionally, each state along the route enforces its own rules on trailer dimensions, brake requirements, and weight limits. For example:
- Width limits are fairly consistent nationwide, generally capping out at around 8.5 feet.
- Height limits typically fall between 13.5 and 14 feet, though some states differ.
- Trailer brake requirements vary significantly: New York requires brakes on trailers at just 1,000 lbs GVWR, while Texas sets that threshold at 4,500 lbs.
- Total vehicle-and-trailer combination length limits range from around 55 feet in stricter states to 85 feet in states like Wyoming.
If your car is inoperable, meaning it cannot steer, brake, or roll under its own power, you must explicitly disclose this to the provider before booking. The driver will need a truck equipped with a specialized winch or a tilt-bed flatbed to load the vehicle safely. Failing to disclose this detail upfront will result in delays, additional charges, or outright cancellation at the pickup location.
How Insurance Works During Auto Transport
One area that is consistently misunderstood is insurance coverage during shipping. All licensed carriers are legally required to carry cargo insurance, but the details matter significantly.
- Carrier Liability Coverage: Every FMCSA-registered carrier must maintain a minimum level of cargo liability insurance. However, coverage limits and deductibles vary widely between companies.
- Ask for the Certificate of Insurance (COI): Before booking, request a copy of the carrier’s COI to verify coverage limits. A reputable company will provide this without hesitation.
- Your Personal Auto Insurance: In many cases, your existing auto insurance policy may provide supplemental coverage during transport. Check with your insurer before shipping you may already be partially covered.
- Condition Report at Pickup: At the time of pickup, the driver and you will complete a Bill of Lading (BOL), which documents the vehicle’s pre-existing condition with written notations and sometimes photographs. This document is your primary evidence if you need to file a damage claim.
- Enclosed Carriers Typically Carry Higher Limits: For high-value vehicles, enclosed carriers often carry $500,000 or more in cargo coverage, compared to standard open carriers that may carry $250,000 or less.
Red Flags When Choosing a Car Shipping Company
The auto transport industry is competitive, and while most companies operate with integrity, there are bad actors. Protecting your asset requires diligent research. Watch for these warning signs:
- The ‘Too Good to Be True’ Estimate: A price dramatically lower than the market average is almost always a lowball tactic. The carrier quotes low to secure your deposit, then demands more money before releasing the vehicle.
- No Verifiable FMCSA Registration: Every legitimate interstate carrier and broker must hold a valid MC (Motor Carrier) number and USDOT number. Verify these at the official FMCSA Safer System website before paying anything.
- Guaranteed Exact Delivery Dates: Logistics are subject to weather, traffic, and inspection delays. Legitimate providers give a delivery window typically two to four days not a guaranteed hour.
- Requiring Full Payment Upfront: Reputable companies typically collect a deposit at booking and the balance at delivery. Full payment in advance is a major red flag, especially for cash or wire transfers.
- No Written Contract: Any legitimate carrier will provide a written service agreement outlining pickup dates, delivery windows, cost, and insurance details. Verbal-only agreements offer you no protection.
- Poor or Absent Communication: If you struggle to reach a representative before booking, reaching them while your vehicle is somewhere on the highway will be even harder.
Cost-Saving Tips for Interstate Vehicle Shipping
If you are working within a budget, there are proven strategies to reduce the overall cost of moving your vehicle without sacrificing reliability.
- Keep Flexible Pickup Dates: Offering carriers a broad pickup window of 7 to 14 days allows them to fill their trailer efficiently, and they often pass savings on to flexible customers.
- Choose Open Transport: Unless your vehicle is exceptionally valuable or fragile, open transport is the most economical option and just as safe for standard cars.
- Ship in the Off-Season: Demand peaks in summer (family relocations tied to the school calendar) and in January (snowbird migration). Shipping in late fall or early spring typically yields better rates.
- Use Terminal-to-Terminal Service: Some companies allow you to drop off and pick up at regional hubs rather than requesting door-to-door service. This reduces driver time and fuel costs, which translates to a lower quote.
- Book Early: Last-minute bookings almost always cost more. Booking two to three weeks in advance gives carriers time to plan efficient routes and can reduce your final price.
- Compare at Least Five Quotes: The range between the cheapest and the most expensive quote for the same route can be $300–$500. Using a comparison platform saves time and ensures you see the realistic market range before committing.
Final Checklist Before You Ship
Before you hand over your keys to the driver, ensure everything is in order. Use this checklist to prepare your vehicle and protect yourself throughout the process:
- Wash the vehicle thoroughly so you can accurately document the exterior condition.
- Take high-resolution, date-stamped photographs of all angles, noting any existing scratches, dents, or chips.
- Remove all personal belongings, toll transponders, parking passes, and loose items from the interior.
- Leave the gas tank at approximately one-quarter (1/4) full enough to load and maneuver the car, while keeping weight to a minimum.
- Ensure the battery is fully charged and tire pressure is correct, especially for non-running vehicles being transported on a flatbed.
- Disable the vehicle’s alarm system to prevent it from activating during transport.
- Review the Bill of Lading carefully with the driver before signing. Do not sign if the condition listed does not match what you see.
- Keep a copy of the Bill of Lading until the vehicle is delivered and you have inspected it at the destination.
Making a Confident, Informed Decision
Shipping a vehicle across state lines does not need to be stressful. Once you understand how pricing works, what the different transport methods involve, and how to screen carriers effectively, the process becomes straightforward. The key steps are consistent: gather accurate vehicle information, collect multiple quotes from vetted providers, verify credentials through the FMCSA, and document your vehicle’s condition thoroughly before and after transport.
Whether you are moving across two states or coast to coast, taking the time to compare your options will save you money, protect your assets, and give you peace of mind throughout the journey.
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Volatility, Hit Frequency, and RTP: Why the Number Casinos Advertise Is the Least Useful One
The return to player percentage looks clean as a casino data point. It gives players a neat number, usually around 94% to 97% for many online slots, and that number feels easy to compare. A 96.5% game appears better than a 95.2% game. The problem starts when players treat RTP as a forecast for their next 50 spins or one evening.
You may find the RTP listed on slot pages on a leading online casino in Ontario, but the number only tells part of the story. Two games can share the same RTP and create different sessions: one may return small wins often, while the other may drain a balance before one bonus round changes everything.
The RTP Trap
Return to player (RTP) measures the theoretical share of total wagers a game returns across a very large number of rounds. In plain terms, a 96% RTP slot returns about $96 for every $100 wagered in the long run. That does not mean one player who deposits $100 should expect $96 back.
The trap sits in the word “theoretical.” RTP comes from the game’s math model. It works across huge samples, not personal sessions. A player can finish far above that percentage, far below it, or with nothing left after a short run of poor results.
Is it useless then? No, RTP can still help. It gives a baseline cost of play. Lower-RTP games cost more on average than higher-RTP games. Still, once a game passes a reasonable threshold, the next question matters more: how does it distribute that return?
Hit Frequency: The Number That Shapes Session Feel
Hit frequency tells you how often a game produces a winning outcome. This often misleads players because any win can count. A spin that returns $0.10 on a $1 bet may still count as a hit, even though the player lost $0.90 in real terms.
A game can feel active because symbols connect often, sounds play, and the screen keeps celebrating small returns. The balance may still fall. In many modern slots, “win” does not always mean profit on the spin.
Hit frequency answers one practical question: how much silence can you tolerate? Some players dislike long dry spells. Others accept quieter sessions because they chase bonus rounds or larger payouts.
The educational site Get Gambling Facts gives a useful distinction: RTP concerns the percentage of money returned over time, while hit frequency concerns how often a machine stops on a winning combination.
Volatility: The Risk Label Players Need More Often
Volatility, also called variance, describes how unevenly a game pays. Low-volatility games tend to return smaller amounts more often. High-volatility games hold more value in rare events: bonus rounds, premium symbols, multipliers, or jackpots.
Here is where RTP becomes less useful on its own:
- A 96% low-volatility slot may give modest returns and longer play from the same balance.
- A 96% high-volatility slot may burn through funds quickly unless the player hits a strong feature.
- A progressive jackpot game may look exciting, but it often places more value on rare top prizes.
The same RTP can hide very different risk profiles. Players who ignore volatility often blame the casino or the game when the session follows its math design.
Why the Same RTP Can Feel So Different
Picture two slots with 96% RTP. Slot A pays small wins on many spins, has a modest top prize, and rarely creates dramatic balance swings. Slot B pays less often but offers a large max win and volatile bonus rounds. The advertised return matches, but the experience does not.
Slot A may suit a player who wants a slower bankroll drop and more regular feedback. Slot B suits someone who accepts sharper losses in exchange for a shot at a heavier payout.
A Better Way to Read a Slot Page
Most slot pages give players more clues than they notice. The trick is to read the details together rather than chase the highest percentage.
Start with RTP. If two games look similar, the higher number has better long-term value. Then check volatility. If the game uses terms such as high, very high, or extreme variance, lower your bet size or expect shorter sessions. Next, look at the paytable. A huge max win usually means the game saves a lot of its value for rare outcomes.
A sensible pre-play check looks like this:
- RTP: What is the average long-term return?
- Volatility: How rough can the session become?
- Hit frequency: How often will the game show any wins?
- Paytable: Where does most value sit?
To Conclude
Casinos advertise RTP because it looks objective, tidy, and easy to rank. Players should read it, but they should not give it more authority than it deserves. For long sessions, volatility may matter more than a small RTP difference. For comfort, hit frequency may explain the feel better than the payback rate.
