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A new mural in Nolita celebrates a Holocaust rescuer
(New York Jewish Week) — In the heavily trafficked neighborhood of Nolita, a larger-than-life mural has popped up on the corner of Spring St. and Elizabeth St. Bright orange and pink paint spell out the words “Saved 3,000 Jewish Lives” next to a black and white portrait of Holocaust rescuer Tibor Baranski.
The mural, an art piece designed to combat hate and spark conversation, is the brainchild of “Artists 4 Israel,” a non-profit organization that aims to “prevent the spread of antisemitic and anti-Israel bigotry by helping to heal communities that have been affected by hate through art,” according to its CEO and co-founder Craig Dershowitz.
“Our rallying cry is art over hate,” Dershowitz said. Baranski’s portrait, painted by Fernando “SKI” Romero, a renowned graffiti artist based in Queens, is part of the organization’s “Righteous Among the Nations Global Mural Project.” It aims to establish a network of murals painted in cities around the world that feature other “Righteous Among the Nations” members who helped save Jews during the Holocaust.
“His story was beautiful and it really touched me,” Romero, who is Dominican, said of Baranski, who collaborated with Artists 4 Israel on deciding whom to feature in the New York mural. “The want to paint something came very easily with something so selfless.”
The Baranski mural in Nolita is the third installment of the mural project; eventually there will be 10 murals around the world, said Dershowitz. Each subject is given a mural in their home state or country where they aided Jews: In Portugal, a mural of Aristides de Sousa Mendes, a diplomat who helped arrange passports for Jews has become a popular tour bus stop. In Greece, a mural of Mayor Loukas Karrer and Archbishop Dimitrios Chrysostomos led to national media coverage.
Though Baranski was Hungarian, he lived in Buffalo, New York for nearly six decades and felt at home in New York, which is why the Artists 4 Israel chose him for the mural in Manhattan.
In 1944, Baranski was 22 and studying to become a Catholic priest in Slovakia when the Russian Army invaded and he was forced to return to Budapest, where he grew up.
He never returned to the seminary, and abandoned his dream of becoming a priest. Instead, he dedicated the next years of his life to orchestrating the escape of more than 3,000 Hungarian Jews from the Holocaust.
After arriving in Budapest, Baranski headed to the Vatican embassy residence of the Papal Nuncio Angelo Rotta, where a long line of people were requesting help. The Vatican embassies in Switzerland, Sweden, Spain and Portugal were some of the only places where Jews and other refugees were able to secure letters of protection and necessary documents to leave their countries.
Carol Romeo, who said her family survived the Holocaust, pauses to touch the mural of Holocaust rescuer Tibor Baranski created by Fernando “SKI” Romero, a Dominican-American artist born and raised in Queens. “I never knew he existed,” she said of Baranski. “And he lived here in New York. Everyone should know his story.” (CAM and Artists4Israel)
Pretending to be a priest, Baranski managed to arrange a meeting with Rotta, where he secured documents for a Jewish family he knew. As the story goes, Rotta soon recruited Baranski to help organize protection letters, baptismal certificates and immigration certificates for Jews trying to escape Hungary. He also helped coordinate food and housing for the escapees. Over the next two months, Baranski saved 3,000 Jewish lives, according to official records — though his sons have said he believes the number was closer to 15,000.
After the war, Baranski was imprisoned by the Soviet army for five years for his anti-communist beliefs. He became a freedom fighter during the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 before moving to Rome to start a refugee camp with his wife Katalin.
Eventually the couple moved to Canada and then settled in Buffalo, where they were active members of the community and raised their three children, Tibor Jr., Kati and Peter.
Baranski, who died in 2019, was recognized by Yad Vashem as a Righteous Among the Nations in 1979, and was appointed by President Jimmy Carter to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Council.
In an obituary in the New York Jewish Week, writer and close friend of Baranski’s Steve Lipman recalls an anecdote Baranski often repeated: “’Why do you, a Christian, help Jews?’ Uncle Tibor told me the Nazis asked him. ‘You are either silly or an idiot,’ he would answer. ‘It is because I am a Christian that I help the Jews.’”
For Dershowitz, who is based in Los Angeles, one of the goals of the murals — and his organization at large — is fighting antisemitism through education about Israel and the Holocaust. By making the art public and accessible, Dershowitz hopes people of all backgrounds will enjoy the art, and learn from it.
“These murals are very much for everyone to enjoy,” he said. “For the most part, they’re not geared towards the Jewish community as much as they’re geared towards a younger demographic, regardless of their religion or cultural heritage.”
Since its foundation in 2009, Artists 4 Israel’s principal mission has been to bring diverse groups of graffiti, street and mural artists to Israel to create projects that “benefit people in a direct, on-the-ground way,” such as painting murals in hospitals, bomb shelters and army bases. The organization has worked with more than 5,000 professional and amateur artists from 32 countries around the world, according to its website.
“When [the artists] come back [from Israel], they’re able to talk about the country and they’re able to speak about the Jewish people and be a window into the reality of Israel in the Middle East to their millions of followers,” Dershowitz explained.
In 2020, when COVID-19 arrived and international travel halted, the organization switched gears and started bringing their advocacy to cities around the world with the “Righteous Among the Nations” project.
For the artist Romero, the work has been especially gratifying. The 44 year-old artist has been involved with Artists 4 Israel since its inception and has visited Israel three times, painting murals for battered women’s shelters, community shelters and army bases.
“I’m creating art with purpose, which is beautiful. I’m also creating a dialogue. There’s a conversation,” Romero said. “This is one of those murals that touches home and it makes you really feel good. It is art that just separates itself from a lot of the noise out there.”
Painted over the course of two days, the mural will remain on the downtown corner for the next nine months.
At the unveiling party last month, which included a performance by singer Neshama Carlebach and blessings led by Rabbi Menachem Creditor, Baranski’s son Tibor Jr. retold his father’s story and emphasized the strong Catholic faith that guided him.
“Tibor Baranski was the merger of intellect and faith,” said his son, who drove from Buffalo for the event. “My father’s deeply held belief in God was uncompromising. It was the core driver in his saving thousands of innocent Jewish lives in 1944 in Nazi-occupied Hungary.”
“I will quote my father since his words captured the essence of our Catholic faith and what this mural that Fernando painted commemorating him represents: ‘Love each other, love each other sincerely. God is love. Love destroys hatred,’” he added.
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The post A new mural in Nolita celebrates a Holocaust rescuer appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Jewish authors object to scheduling of a Chicago literary festival on Rosh Hashanah
Jewish writers say they are dismayed to learn that one of the nation’s largest free outdoor literary festivals is scheduled to take place during the two days of Rosh Hashanah, September 12 and 13.
Printers Row Lit Fest, an outdoor book festival that draws thousands of authors and book lovers to the streets of Chicago’s South Loop, announced the festival’s dates in April. But only recently, amid rising concerns about antisemitism in the publishing world, did some Jewish authors realize the schedule conflict. This year’s Rosh Hashanah begins at sundown on Friday, Sept. 11 and ends at sundown on Sunday, Sept. 13.
Brian Berg, a spokesman for Printers Row, said that scheduling difficulties caused the overlap with Rosh Hashanah.
“As someone who is Jewish and involved with the festival, I wish there had been an option that avoided a conflict with the High Holy Days,” Berg told the Forward. “After weighing alternatives, the weekend that was picked was really the most practical balance of financial, operational and scheduling realities.”
Chicago-based Jewish novelist Lisa Barr, who participated in a Printers Row panel last year about “Holocaust Literature in the 21st Century,” said she likely will miss at least one day of the festival this year to attend worship services and host family for the Jewish New Year.
Barr said the scheduling forces an unnecessary choice between honoring an important religious and cultural tradition and participating in one of Chicago’s signature literary events.
“Scheduling a major literary festival on such a sacred holiday sends a deeply painful message—whether intentional or not—that Jewish authors, readers, booksellers, and members of the literary community were not fully considered,” Barr told the Forward. “I can’t help but wonder: Given the climate of hate and antisemitism — was this an accident or purposeful?”
S.L. Wisenberg, another Jewish author in Chicago, explained that upon learning of the conflict, she assumed it was a scheduling mistake. “I don’t think it’s an anti-Jewish action,” she said. Still, she says, “it’s unfortunate.”
According to Berg, the other weekends in September also had conflicts: the first was Labor Day, the third had Yom Kippur, and the fourth might have been too cold. Yim Kippur begins at sundown on Sunday, Sept. 20.
Turi Ryder, a podcaster and novelist from Chicago, was unsatisfied by this explanation, after communicating with conference staff. She told her social media followers, “FILE UNDER, “WE KNOW BUT WE DON’T GIVE A RAT’S PATOOTIE ABOUT YOUR JEWISH HOLIDAY.”
Ryder pointed out that if they had held the festival the following week, there would not have been significant overlap with Yom Kippur, which begins at sundown on Sunday, Sept. 20. Berg explained that Sunday may still have been difficult for those observing the holiday, since they may have needed to spend the day spending time with family and preparing to go to synagogue.
The festival had been held every June for almost 40 years, but in 2021 organizers postponed the events until September to adjust for the COVID-19 pandemic. What was intended to be a temporary schedule change became permanent. Until then, the High Holidays had never been an issue.
The post Jewish authors object to scheduling of a Chicago literary festival on Rosh Hashanah appeared first on The Forward.
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Loved ones remember two Jewish women killed in Midtown Manhattan mass shooting one year ago
One year after Blackstone executive and Jewish community leader Wesley LePatner was killed in a mass shooting in the lobby of her Midtown Manhattan office, her family is marking the yahrtzeit by launching a foundation in her name.
“What we are officially launching today is not just the start of a love letter to my amazing wife,” her husband, Evan LePatner, said in a statement. “We are building programs and a community that she would have led, nurtured, and inspired many others to join.”
The Wesley Mittman LePatner Foundation aims to cultivate 1,000 leaders in the coming decades through a mentorship program. The two-year leadership accelerator will connect fellows with mentors to hone their skills supporting nonprofit organizations and civic institutions, according to a press release. Sheryl Sandberg, the former COO of Facebook, is among the foundation’s supporters.
LePatner was shot and killed at age 43, along with Julia Hyman, a 27-year-old associate at the real estate company Rudin Management, who was also Jewish.
The gunman, identified as 27-year-old Shane Tamura, opened fire at a Park Avenue office building, killing four people before turning the gun on himself. Investigators said Tamura — who claimed in a note to suffer from CTE, the brain disease associated with repeated head trauma — had intended to target the office of the National Football League, but took the wrong elevator.
The foundation is one of several initiatives to honor the victims of the shooting. Earlier this year, UJA-Federation of New York — where LePatner was on the board — created the Wesley M. LePatner Emerging Leadership Award, which will honor a rising star on Wall Street who strives to make a positive difference.
Hyman’s friends organized a fundraiser for March Fourth, a nonprofit that aims to end mass shootings.
“Her smile lit up every room and her hugs could brighten even the worst days,” Megan Arden, a friend of Hyman’s who ran the New York City marathon in her honor, wrote in a statement. “There will be a hole in my heart forever.”
On Tuesday, Mayor Zohran Mamdani and Police Commissioner Jessica Tisch led a memorial service for NYPD Detective Didarul Islam, who was off-duty working as a security guard when he was shot and killed.
A new law, raising the minimum wage for private security officers to $22.20 an hour, also took effect on Tuesday in honor of security officer Aland Etienne, who was killed while trying to shut down the building’s elevators during the attack.
Jewish legacies
Both Hyman and LePatner were active members of the Jewish community.
LePatner was a board member of UJA-Federation of New York and the Abraham Joshua Heschel School. She won a Youth Enrichment Center Award from Park East Synagogue, and was involved in the founding of the Orthodox Altneu congregation on the Upper East Side.
She also received the Alan C. Greenberg Young Leadership Award at UJA’s annual Wall Street Dinner in 2023. In her acceptance speech, LePatner shared how, growing up, her parents always reminded her that she “was an American, but first and foremost Jewish.”
At LePatner’s funeral, her father, Lawrence Mittman, recalled how her passion for Judaism began early, studying Talmud the summer before starting college at Yale University.
Others recalled her love for the state of Israel, including a “solidarity mission” she led to the country in the wake of the Hamas-led Oct. 7 attacks on Israel.
“Israel is Wesley, and Wesley was Israel,” her husband, Evan LePatner, said at the funeral. “Small in size, insanely productive, wrangling with being religious and pragmatic all at once, inclusive of all who want to be inside the tent, fierce in the defense of its people.”
Hyman grew up in Manhattan and attended the Riverdale Country School in the Bronx. She went on to study hotel and restaurant administration at the Cornell Nolan School of Hotel Administration, where she graduated summa cum laude in 2020.
At Hyman’s funeral, former classmates of Hyman from Riverdale sang “Shalom Rav,” a song that a friend recalled the two had sung together at her bat mitzvah.
Rabbi Maurice Salth of Central spoke at the funeral about how Hyman “took a stand for Israel, and continued to do so during what has been a deeply challenging and demanding time.”
“Let us be careful about trying to make this tragedy feel better by saying such things as, ‘At least she went quickly,’ or, ‘At least we had her for 27 years,’” Salth added. “There is nothing that can make this tragedy better or logical.”
The post Loved ones remember two Jewish women killed in Midtown Manhattan mass shooting one year ago appeared first on The Forward.
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Shmuel Plavnik: A classic example of Jewish-Belarusian identity
מיט צוויי חדשים צוריק האָב איך געשריבן אינעם פֿאָרווערטס, אַז איך האָב צופֿעליק אַנטדעקט מאַגישע כּתבֿ־ידן אויף ווײַסרוסיש, אָנגעשריבן מיט ייִדישע אותיות. דאָס געפֿינס איז ממש אויף אַ מיסטישן אופֿן צונויפֿגעפֿאַלן מיטן 160־יאָריקן געבורט־יוביליי פֿונעם ייִדישן שרײַבער שמואל־נחום פּלאַווניק, באַקאַנט אויף רײַסיש ווי זמיטראָק ביאַדוליאַ.
פֿאַר וואָס איז דאָס אַ חידוש? אין 1921 האָט פּלאַווניק פֿאַרעפֿנטלעכט אַ קורצן אַרטיקל וועגן אַ ייִדישן כּתבֿ־יד, וווּ צווישן עטלעכע סגולות אויף לשון־קודש און ייִדיש טרעפֿט זיך אויך רײַסיש. ביז איצט האָבן די פֿאָרשער געמיינט, אַז יענער אַרטיקל איז פֿאַרלוירן געגאַנגען, און נאַט אײַך – אָט האָט ער זיך אָפּגעפֿונען, פּונקט צו פּלאַווניקס יוביליי!
סיאַרהיי שופּאַ, אַ ווײַסרוסישער שפּראַך־אַקטיוויסט, וועלכער קען גוט ייִדיש און האָט איבערגעזעצט אַ סך ווערק פֿון משה קולבאַקן אויף רײַסיש, האָט געלייענט וועגן מײַנע געפֿינסן, און האָט פֿאַרגליכן איינס פֿון זיי מיט יענעם, וואָס ס׳האָט אָנגעהויבן פֿאָרשן ביאַדוליאַ. ער האָט באַמערקט, אַז ער שטימט אין אַלע פּרטים מיט איינעם פֿון מײַנע. כ׳האָב צוערשט געמיינט, אַז דער כּתבֿ־יד איז טאַקע פֿאַרלוירן געגאַנגען; נישט געוווּסט, אַז ער געפֿינט זיך שוין לאַנג דיגיטאַליזירט, אָפֿענערהייט אין דער אינטערנעץ. באַקומט זיך, אַז איך בין פּלוצעם געוואָרן זמיטראָק ביאַדוליאַס אַ ממשיך־דרך.
אַ געבוירענער דעם 23סטן אַפּריל אינעם דערפֿל פּאַסאַדזעץ אויף צפֿון פֿון מינסק (הײַנט וווינען דאָרט אַרום 150 תּושבֿים), האָט זיך שמואל פּלאַווניק פֿון קינדווײַז אָן געפֿילט היימיש סײַ אין דער ייִדישער קולטור פֿון זײַן היים, סײַ אין דער אַרומיקער קולטור פֿון די רײַסישע פּויערים. אין זײַנע ווערק באַטאָנט ער, אַז אַזוי איז געווען דער דורות־לאַנגער שטייגער פֿון אַ סך ייִדן אין רײַסן.
ס׳איז כּדאַי דאָ צו באַמערקן, אַז ווי באַלד דער אַלטער ייִדישער נאָמען פֿון בעלאַרוס איז רײַסן, להיפּוך צום פֿאַרעלטערטן דײַטשישן וואָרט „ווײַסרוסלאַנד‟, איז בעסער הײַנט אויף ייִדיש צו רופֿן די שפּראַך רײַסיש, הגם אין דער סאָוועטישער נאָמענקלאַטור איז אָנגענומען „ווײַסרוסיש‟. „בעלאַרוסיש‟ קלינגט, דאַכט זיך מיר, איבעריק, ווײַל בײַ ייִדן איז שוין במשך פֿון דורות פֿאַראַן אַן אייגן וואָרט פֿאַרן דאָזיקן סלאַווישן לשון.
פּלאַווניק האָט געלערנט אין אַ חדר און אַ ישיבֿה; בײַ זײַן זיידן, דעם אָרטיקן אײַזן־ און קופּער־שמיד, איז געווען די איינציקע ביבליאָטעק אינעם דאָרף, וווּ לעבן דער גמרא זענען אויף דער פּאָליצע געשטאַנען ביכער וועגן מאַטעמאַטיק און מעטאַלורגיע.
מיט זײַן טאַטן האָט ער זיך אָפֿט פֿאַרנומען מיט געהילץ־אַרבעט אין וועלדער. דערפֿאַר איז פֿאַר אים די וואַלדישע נאַטור פֿון רײַסן אויך געווען פֿון קינדווײַז אָן היימיש. זײַנע ערשטע דערציילונגען אויף ייִדיש און העברעיִש זענען געווען געווידמעט דער שווערער מי פֿון געהילץ־אַרבעטער. דערנאָך האָט ער זיך באַקענט מיט דער רײַסיש־שפּראַכיקער פּרעסע, וועלכער האָט דעמאָלט ערשט אָנגעהויבן זיך אַנטוויקלען. פֿון 1910 אָן האָט ער זיך כּמעט אין גאַנצן אָפּגעגעבן מיט רײַסיש אונטערן פּסעוודאָנים זמיטראָק ביאַדוליאַ. אַ ייִד און אַ ווײַסרוס מיט אַ טאָפּלטער עטנישער אידענטיטעט, האָט ער איבערגעזעצט פֿון ייִדיש אויף רײַסיש שלום־עליכמס ראָמאַן „מאָטל פּייסי דעם חזנס‟ און שמואל גאָדינערס ראָמאַן „דער מענטש מיט דער ביקס‟. גאָדינער איז געווען זײַנער אַ לאַנדסמאַן, אַ ווײַסרוסישער ייִד.
ווען די נאַציס זענען אָנגעפֿאַלן אויפֿן ראַטן־פֿאַרבאַנד, האָט דער שרײַבער זיך עוואַקויִרט פֿון מינסק. דעם 3טן נאָוועמבער 1941, איז ער געשטאָרבן פֿון אַ האַרץ־אַטאַק צו 55 יאָר.
ביאַדוליאַ האָט איבערגעלאָזט אַ גרויסע ליטעראַרישע ירושה: לידער, דערציילונגען, בתוכם גאַנץ לאַנגע און דעם ראָמאַן „יאַזעפּ קרושינסקי‟. אין 1932 האָט ער בשותּפֿות מיט נחום רובינשטיינען אַרויסגעגעבן אונטער זײַן אמתן נאָמען, שמואל־נחום פּלאַווניק, דאָס ערשטע ווײַסרוסיש־ייִדישע ווערטערבוך, וואָס מע קען הײַנט געפֿינען אין דער אינטערנעץ.
זײַן מיינונג וועגן די באַציִונגען צווישן ייִדן און ווײַסרוסן אין רײַסן האָט ער אויסגעדריקט אין זײַן אַרטיקל וועגן דעם מאַגישן כּתבֿ־יד, ווי אויך אין אַ צאָל שפּעטערדיקע עסייען. ער האָט געהאַלטן, אַז אין פֿאַרגלײַך מיט די אַנדערע פֿעלקער פֿון מיזרח־אייראָפּע, האָבן די רײַסישע ייִדן געלעבט באַזונדערס נאָענט צו זייערע סלאַווישע שכנים, אָנגעהאַלטן מיט זיי פֿרײַנדלעכע באַציִונגען, גערעדט אויף זייער שפּראַך, געזונגען אייגענע לידער אויף רײַסיש. ממילא, האָבן זיי אויך אָפּגעלערנט אַזעלכע ענינים, ווי שפּרוכן קעגן וועלף און שלאַנגען.
ס׳זענען פֿאַראַן אַ סך אַנדערע סימנים, אַז אַזוי איז טאַקע געווען. בײַ די ליובאַוויטשער חסידים זענען פֿאַראַן עטלעכע ניגונים אויף רײַסיש, און אין די זכרונות פֿונעם זעקסטן ליובאַוויטשער רבין, יוסף־יצחק שניאורסאָן, ווערן דערמאָנט סלאַוויש־שפּראַכיקע דאָרפֿישע ייִדן, וואָס האָבן קוים געקענט ייִדיש. אין דער אמתן, שטעלן זײַנע „זכרונות‟ מיט זיך פֿאָר חסידישע מעשׂיות, ליטעראַריש באַאַרבעטע דורכן שרײַבער און זשורנאַליסט דוד־לייב מעקלער. פֿון דעסט וועגן, איז דאָס גאָר אַן אוצר. נאָך פֿריִער האָט דער פֿילאָסאָף שלמה מײַמון דערמאָנט אַזעלכע טיפּן ייִדן אין זײַנע טיף פּערזענלעכע, מײַסטעריש אָנגעשריבענע דײַטשיש־שפּראַכיקע מעמואַרן.
בײַ רײַסישע ייִדן איז פֿאַראַן אַן אויסדרוק: „האַלב טײַטש, פּאָלאָווינאַ רײַסיש‟. פּאָלאָווינאַ מיינט אויף רײַסיש און רוסיש אַ האַלב. ער טרעפֿט זיך בײַם דיכטער יהודה־לייב גאָרדאָן, בײַ מענדעלע, אין שלום־עליכמס אַ קריטישן עסיי וועגן ייִדן אין אַמעריקע, אין נחום סטוטשקאָפֿס „אוצר‟ און אַנדערע קוואַלן. אַזוי רופֿט מען דאָס שפּראַך־געמישעכץ, וואָס איז געווען פֿאַרשפּרייט בײַ שטעלטדיקע און בפֿרט בײַ דאָרפֿישע ייִדן און רײַסן.
עס קאָן זײַן, אַז דווקא צוליב אַזאַ פֿאַרשפּרייטער צוויי־שפּראַכיקייט האָבן געוויסע ייִדן געפֿירט גאַנצע זשורנאַלן פֿון סלאַווישע שפּרוכן, פֿאַרשרײַבנדיק זיי מיטן ייִדישן אַלף־בית. פֿון אַנ־סקיס עקספּעדיציעס ווייסן מיר, אַז אין אוקראַיִנע פֿלעגן ייִדישע פֿאָלקס־רופֿאים, געוויינטלעך פֿרויען, אָפּשפּרעכן אויף אוקראַיִניש, נאָר קיין אַלטע שריפֿטלעכע באַווײַזן דערפֿון האָב איך דערווײַל נישט געפֿונען. שאַפֿט זיך דער אײַנדרוק, אַז בײַ אַ סך ווײַסרוסישע ייִדן איז די שפּראַך פֿון זייערע שכנים טאַקע געווען זייער צווייט מאַמע־לשון.
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