Rebbetzin Chana’s Memoirs: Attempts at Extortion

In this 9th installment of the series, Rebbetzin Chana describes how various people tried to extort money and valubles from her by claiming to have classified information as to her husband Reb Levik‘s whereabouts.

Attempts at Extortion

As time went on, I started planning another trip to join my husband close to Passover.

During the winter months, I was subjected to repeated provocations. Almost daily, I received reports that my husband had been brought back to prison in Yekaterinoslav—reports usually whispered to me as top-secret information.

A Christian woman, claiming to be a priest’s daughter, told me my husband was incarcerated in the same cell as her father. A young Jewish man, involved in construction, informed me he had seen my husband at a prison in a location near Kiev, and that he had requested I send him clothes and the like.

Whenever I received such reports, I was directed to appear on certain street-corners, usually in the evening hours when no one would see us talking together. As much as logic dictated that I pay no attention to all this, yet in the final analysis, I couldn’t ignore it, thinking that perhaps there might be some truth in it and that I really ought to help my husband at such a time.

Unable to decide on my own what to do, I waited until late at night, when I could consult with friends about these offers. It was most difficult when I was advised to go to the place where I had been directed. I did not follow this advice, simply because it was too frightening to do so—the places were either near the local jail or near the NKVD headquarters.

Eventually, these incidents proved to be attempts at sheer extortion.

The Rebbetzin’s second trip to Chi’ili

I started to prepare for my second trip during the month of Adar,11 just as I had done for the previous trip. I would have liked to believe it was getting closer to my husband’s liberation and his speedy return home.

After my necessary preparations, I traveled again via Moscow. I experienced similar problems to the previous time, but good friends helped me, supplying me with whatever was possible.

I again visited all government offices that could grant commutation of his bitter exile. Unfortunately, those visits only depleted my health but contributed nothing positive.

Two weeks before Passover, I arrived back in Chi’ili. My husband’s appearance had changed, and he was also dispirited, which disturbed me deeply. Until my arrival, the man I had asked to move in with him had been staying there. This roommate had no food of his own and was always hungry. Consequently, whenever my husband received a food parcel, he shared it with his roommate.

When subjected to such living conditions, people’s personalities usually change; they usually turn into different people. My husband, however, remained the same. As soon as he would find sheet of paper, even a few scraps, he would use them to record his Torah insights. On one occasion he walked into our room, his face radiant, saying, “I should really farbreng with someone now, because I’ve completed writing a novel essay that is truly extraordinary.” Unfortunately, because of the subject’s profundity, he couldn’t share it with me, nor was anyone else available.

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