UNCOVERING AN UNFORGETTABLE
STORY OF AN ISOLATED ISLAND IN
ZAKYNTHOS,
We flew from Tel Aviv to
During the ride, I read the travel guide, and learned a little about the
history, the agriculture, the weather and finally about the poetic origins of
the national anthem. I did not read one word about what I was really about to
discover on the island. The drive from the airport to our villa lasted a few
minutes. From the coastal plateau, we drove up through twisted village bends to
our destination.
An old lady, a typical Greek villager dressed all in black, welcomed us
with a warm smile into her home. She asked to show us around her beloved
mansion. It was obvious that this place was the source of her pride.
The landlady gave us a short tour of the old-style bedrooms, bathrooms and
salon. In the kitchen, we noticed the beautiful authentic Greek dishes that
were hanging over her antique-looking stove. All these were for our use.
We explained to her
that for religious reasons, unfortunately, we would not be able to enjoy using
her kitchenware and that we had brought our own.
She seemed confused. She looked at my
dad and suddenly her eyes lit up. She noticed his kippa. We were asked to
follow her out to the garden.
From the
"Look over there!" she said.
She wanted to know what we saw.
"Trees, vegetation," we said.
"Look again and focus!" she demanded.
"Something unidentified that looks like teeth, white dots," my dad said.
She stared at us for
a long moment and said: "That
is the Jewish cemetery."
Who ever heard of Jews here? My fascinating journey had begun.
I was shocked. We
were all astounded. Here we were on an isolated island in
I tried reminiscing
about stories and experiences I had heard from friends who had visited here.
Nothing came to mind.
From this moment on
until I left
The
Mystery of 1955
The next morning, I
got on my rented moped and drove to the cemetery. The shudder that went through
me started when I first saw the Star of David on the little black gate. The
trembling grew as I walked in. It was a huge cemetery containing hundreds of
graves from the 16th century up until 1955. The grounds were well-kept and
little stones were set on many graves, as if they had had visitors recently.
1955. I thought for
a moment. Whoever knows the history of
Rhodes, Corfu,
Salonika,
From 1944, there
were almost no Jews left even in the bigger communities.
I did not, however,
understand the meaning of the "1955" grave, and decided to
investigate.
In a small house
that stood in the heart of the property, I found the cemetery keeper, a third
generation of custodians of the Jewish graveyard in Zakynthos. My inability to
speak the language prevented me from having a deep conversation with him.
I sought to continue
my search for the Jewish history of this town, and within five minutes I was at
City Hall.
When I told the
clerk at the front desk what I was after, he asked if I had already been to the
synagogue. The question was posed casually, as though it's asked on a daily
basis.
"Excuse me?" I
thought I hadn't heard right. "A
synagogue on this island?"
He gave me
directions.
The synagogue was
located on a busy road in the center of the island. Off the main street, in a
space between two buildings, was a black iron gate, just like the one I had
seen not long ago at the cemetery. Above it was a stone arc with an open book.
It read, in a loose translation from the original Hebrew, "At this holy
place stood the Shalom Synagogue. Here, at the time of the earthquake in 1953,
old Torah scrolls, bought before the community was established, were
burned."
Through the locked
gate I saw two statues. Judging by their long beards, they looked to me like
rabbis. The writing on the wall proved me wrong: "This plaque commemorates the gratitude of the Jews of Zakynthos
to Mayor Karrer and Bishop Chrysostomos."
Who were these people? What happened here?
What was the
acknowledgment about? Who were these people? Why the statues? What happened
here? I had lots of questions. I had to find a lead, if not an answer. I
returned to City Hall, excited and trembling.
I approached the clerk,
who already recognized me, and started questioning him about what had happened
here. He referred me to the mayor's deputy on the third floor. I found his
room, knocked at his door and asked him if he would spare me a few minutes. He
willingly accepted.
Names
for Nazis
Half an hour later I
came out with this:
The governor of the German occupation asked the mayor for a list of all
Jews on the island.
On September 9 1943,
the governor of the German occupation named Berenz had asked the mayor, Loukas
Karrer, for a list of all Jews on the island.
Rejecting the demand
after consulting with Bishop Chrysostomos, they decided to go together to the
governor's office the next day. When Berenz insisted once again for the list,
the bishop explained that these Jews weren't Christians but had lived here in
peace and quiet for hundreds of years.
They had never
bothered anyone, he said. They were Greeks just like all other Greeks, and it
would offend all the residents of Zakynthos if they were to leave.
But the governor persisted that they give him the names.
The bishop then
handed him a piece of paper containing only two names: Bishop Chrysostomos and
Mayor Karrer.
In addition, the
bishop wrote a letter to Hitler himself, declaring that the Jews in Zakynthos
were under his authority.
The speechless
governor took both documents and sent them to the Nazi military commander in
In October 1944, the
Germans withdrew from the island, leaving behind 275 Jews. The entire Jewish
population had survived, while in many other regions Jewish communities were
eliminated.
This unique history
is described in the book of Dionyssios Stravolemos, An Act of Heroism - A Justification, and also in the short
film of Tony Lykouressis, The Song of Life.
According to tour
guide Haim Ischakis, in 1947, a large number of Zakynthinote Jews made aliya
while others moved to
In 1948, in
recognition of the heroism of the Zakynthians during the Holocaust, the Jewish
community donated stained glass for the windows of the
In August 1953, the
island was struck by a severe earthquake and the entire Jewish quarter,
including its two synagogues, was destroyed. Not long afterwards, the remaining
38 Jews moved to
In 1978, Yad Vashem
honored Bishop Chrysostomos and Mayor Loukas Karrer with the title of "Righteous among the Nations."
In March 1982, the
last remaining Jew in Zakynthos, Ermandos Mordos, died on the island and was
buried in
In 1992, on the site
where the Sephardic synagogue stood before the earthquake, the Board of Jewish
Communities in
The
Missing Money
A few days before I
had planned to leave the island and return home, I went into a bank to convert
some dollars into euros. But even in a simple place like a bank, I managed to
add another piece to this Jewish puzzle.
A clerk who had been
on the phone and eating a sandwich, called on me when my turn came. When I gave
her my dollars to be changed, she handed me the converted money in an envelope
without asking for any identification.
Later on, when I
opened it, I was surprised to see so much money.
The money that had
been put into the envelope had not been counted properly, and instead of
changing $1,000, she had given me the equivalent of $10,000!
This was really no
surprise to me, because the clerk hadn't paid me any attention.
Ultimately, however,
once the bank realized that the money was missing, it would have no way of
reaching me since no contact information was requested.
The following
morning, I called the bank and asked to speak to the manager. I inquired to
know if there was a problem with the previous night's accounts.
"You must be the woman with the dollars," he said, immediately inviting me to his office.
An hour later, I was
at the bank. When I walked into the office, the man sitting across from the
manager moved to another chair and gave me his seat.
I shared my bank
experience with him, saying how easy it would have been for me to disappear
with the money.
The manager himself
was profusely apologetic about the unprofessional way I was treated and thanked
me repeatedly for returning the money.
"You don't owe me
anything. Indeed, you have given me and my people a lot."
To express his
gratitude, he invited me and my family to dinner at an exclusive restaurant. I
explained that eating out was too complicated for us due to the fact that we
were observant Jews.
He asked for my
address so he could send us a crate of wine.
"That is a problem too," I said.
I told him I had
come from
"A few days after I landed, I was surprised to
discover the Jewish community that was here up to 25 years ago," I said. "You don't owe me
anything. Indeed, you have given me and my people a lot. The least I can do as
a Jew to show my appreciation for what you have done for the Jews of Zakynthos
is to return this money that doesn't belong to me and say, 'Thank you!'"
There was silence
for what appeared to be a long minute.
The man who had
given me his seat when I walked in and hadn't said a word during the
conversation, stood up with tears in his eyes, turned to me and said:
"As the grandson of Mayor Karrer, I am extremely
overwhelmed and want to thank you!"