Shtetl House on the Prairie

[durante]

"Inspired by true events."

Canora, Saskatchewan. Saturday, April, the very early 2000s.

A well worn 1982 Ford F150 XL ambled down the corduroy road. The adult driver, Jake Spitz, and his miniature-version passenger both looked ahead, lost in thought. All around, old order Mennonites were seeding the fields with spring wheat.

As Jake turned on to a long gravel driveway leading to an old Victorian farm home, the preteen, Dan, grabbed the backpack at his feet as if readying himself. Jake spoke through gritted teeth,

"No goofing off this time, got it?"

"Got it".

Jake quickly gave a glance at Dan, still looking ahead.

"I'm serious. Part of learning to be a man is learning to be responsible. If we can't leave you alone to study for a few hours without getting into any mishegas, you'll spending weekends with your baba and zaideh in Yorkton until your bar Mitzvah."

Dan turned wide eyed to his father.

"Don't give me that look. I'm serious. If you two can't study on your own, then we'll get a rabbi to study with you."

"Ok, ok, I get it, I'll be good."

"And if Ben wants to goof off?"

"Don't engage, keep reading." responded Dan mechanically.

"Good".

The truck slowed to a stop at the end of the drive, just a few yards from the verandah. The front door swung open and another man, looking much the same as Jake although slightly older, stepped out with a wave.

"Shabbat shalom!" he cried out with a smile.

"Shabbat shalom, uncled Jed" replied Dan.

"Hey how ya doin'?" replied Jake as he exited the truck. "You ready to go?"

"Sure thing" responded Jed, "I'll just get these two schmucks set up. Ben's already inside practicing. Join him at the big table and I'll get you something to eat, ok?"

"He's fine" said Jake. "Almost a man, right?"

Jed looked down at Dan as he walked toward the door and chuckled. "I suppose so. Well, Daneleh, help yourself. You know where the fridge is."

"Thanks uncle Jed!"

Jed chuckled again. "Maybe you should call me Yehuda while you're practicing Hebrew."

Dan stopped and looked up. "I dunno if you look like a Yehuda."

"What does a Yehuda look like?". Dan instinctively looked to the fields but only saw Mennonites. "Shmita" Dan said under his breath. Turning back to his uncle, he motioned curled locks with his finger on the side of his head.

Jed laughed. "And what does a Jed look like?"

Dan stopped, smiled and pointed to the Mennonites in the fields. Jed laughed again and patted Dan on the head. "Alright, behave! Study hard! And help yourself if you get hungry!"

As Dan entered the house, Jake yelled one last time, "Remember, we're going to Kehilla. It's only for a couple of hours, but we can't be called away in front of the whole community because you two schlemiels got up to something again."

Dan nodded and entered the house.

Jed walked up to Jake and they hugged.

"Alright let's head 'er out."

Jake and Jed - born Yakov and Yehuda - were headed to a meeting of the Kehilla, a sort of local council for Jewish community members which co-ordinated the activites of the local Jewish community, as well as acting as a liasion between the Jewish community and the individual municipalities that made up the local district.

It had much less formal control than the old councils from the Polish lands which it was named after, but had survived as a sort of "Town Hall" largely due to the enormous importance of communal settlement in the early years of the "New Pale".

However, this was a shmita year - and, despite the requirements not applying halakhically to farms outside Eretz Israel, the community, initially settled by devout Hasidic Jews, had long ago developed a custom of not tilling, seeding or toilling their lands every seventh year. Their was nothing, of course, in the Torah about not paying your Mennonite neighbours to till the land for you during these years, and so shmita years were notable in the region for much more active Kehillot, as underemployed agricultural Jews had lots of time for civic engagement and politicking.

Jake and Jed weren't big machers with seats on the eastern wall or anything, nor were they noticeably more educated or well off than any of their neighbours, so for them, appearance at the Kehillot had a different importance. They were both, tragically, widowers, and being a Jewish farm widower in Saskatchewan could be quite lonely at times. Jake and Jed, then, attended Kehilla primarily to be seen - and to schmooze - any eligible ladies who might be in attendance. And so it was particularly grievous that last week, when they seemed to be making some progress in this regard, that they had been called away when a neighbour had spotted Dan and Ben throwing snowballs at their horses.

"If those two geniuses pull anything today -" began Jake, before Jed cut him off.

"Oh, come on now, Jakey, were we any different at their age?"

****

Ben and Dan were sat at the kitchen table, silent, noses in their books.

"I'm bored" said Ben.

Dan laughed. "I've only been here like 2 minutes. I can still see dad's truck."

Ben put his head back into his book.

"Besides" continued Dan. "We'd better not get caught doing anything. Dad said another call from the neighbours and I have to study with the rabbi until my Bar Mitzvah."

Ben looked up "in Yorkton?"

Dan nodded, still reading.

Ben put his head back into the book again.

"Yeah, we better not go outside."

Just then, the inimitable sound of snares, cymbals and a bass drum began from the basement.

"Is that Sammy??" asked Dan.

"Yeah," said Ben, "he's been practicing hours every day."

Dan's foot started to tap along. "He's getting really good."

"Definitely" said Ben. "He's actually fun to play with now."

Dan and Ben both looked up, locking eyes.

After a moment of silence, Ben spoke first

"Wanna jam?"

Dan slammed his book shut and ran to the basement stairway, grabbing his uncle's Les Paul off the wall.

"You're playing bass!" he yelled back at Ben.

***

Driving back from Kehilla, Jake and Jed were both abuzz. The meeting had gone well. For them, anyway, who know what decisions were made. Jed had got a number for the first time in - what, thirty years? Jake had a date set up. Nothing could really bring them down at this point.

Looking over at Jed, Jake said with a smile "is that lipstick on your collar".

Jed laughed. "No, no. But she is coming over for dinner this week!"

"Right on!" said Jake. "Need me to babysit?"

"No, no, not this time. She has a son Sam's age, she's bringing him."

"Perfect! What's her name again?"

"Raiza"

Jake repeated it to himself a few times.

"When is your date with Shaya?"

"Friday night."

"I guess she's not frum"

"Good."

The truck pulled up to the house.

"Well, no phone calls this time! Amazing what we can accomplish when we're not interrupted" Jake said, thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Yes, no phone calls are certainly a good sign. I don't see them in the fields either."

As they got out of the vehicle, Jake turned to Jed.

"What's that sound?"

Jed's brow furrowed. "It sounds like - not studying"

They entered the house with purpose and headed right down the stairs.

The three boys were rocking out, playing music many levels louder and heavier than their fathers had done in the past, and the Jam session ended with a few startling yells.

"WHAT IN THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?" yelled Jake.

"Nice studying, boys, memorized the Torah already?" quipped Jed.

Jake pointed up the stairs and said sternly to Daniel.

"Truck. NOW!"

"But - "

"NOW"

"What are you even playing?" continued Jed. "You know how I feel about heavy metal."

"It's Bob Dylan!" the three cried in unison.

Jake and Jed looked at each other confused. Jake shook his head. "What??"

"Listen!"

"From the top, 1, 2, 3..."

 

[foresterab]

A few thoughts:

1) The Canadian government had some very strict recruitment principals that drastically impacted the country. Protestant settlers were preferred, ideally of Angle Stock but for the new lands on the prairies farmers with cold weather/hard wheat backgrounds were prized. Groups such as the Mennoites and Dukabors were recruited due to their farming experience but also due them "not fitting in" and being released by their overlords. But for example northern Germans were desired but southern Germans and Austrians were not desired. Scandinavians were valued but the Spanish or Italians were right out...

2) had to laugh on your second post on the draft dodger. Many folks I knew growing up had come to Alberta for the simple reason of it being the "Peace Region" and many came with fewer resources than your hero. But there was a known sanctuary present in pretty much anywhere in Canada and many were heading north.

3) While the HBC was dominated by Scottish leadership this was in part due to the historical higher education rates in terms of literacy and accounting. Approaching either the CP Railway project or HBC to provide additional small scale shop keepers may be an avenue to allow additional merchant/middle class positions around. Winnipeg would be the big center out west but were many small independent traders present at this time.

 

[durante]

June 1969, Hirsch, Saskatchewan.

Jim's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed. Sweat beaded off his forehead.

"You're done for now, kid." he said in his best evil villain impersonation. "I've got you all figured out." He crouched down with his arms stretched out wide.

The object of his focus was only a few yards away. He grimaced at Jim's dire warning. He tightened his grip.

A flick of the wrist, then a metallic "ping" just over Jim's shoulder and a worn tennis ball hit the mesh behind Jim.

"Top shelf!" yelled Jim's opponent, no more than 9 years old, arms raised straight in the air with his hockey stick aloft.

"Darn it" said Jim with a chuckle as swept the tennis ball out of his net. "I'm going to stop one of these shots."

"You're worse than my dad!" said the kid with a laugh. A smattering of children of various ages, watching from a bit further back, laughed along. All the boys had long curled side locks, while the girls wore summery dresses which nevertheless covered their arms and legs. Jim noticed that the girls stood a bit further back from the boys, but it didn't surprise him.

"Dude, I'm from California. There's no hockey in California."

"What about the Kings? And the Golden Seals?"

"Like I said. No hockey in California."

"My turn!" said another child, slightly older, stepping forward.

Just then the back door swung open and a woman called out "Kinder! Mitog! Jim! Dinner's ready!"

"One more shot one more shot!"

"Nope, I'm starving!" said Jim, taking off his pads.

"Awwwww" they all said in unison.

Jim chuckled. "There's only so much losing one man can take in a day!"

The children, who Jim did not have an accurate count of - must have been at least 8 - ran inside to wash up.

Shlomo popped his head outside, looking both ways before noticing Jim.

"Ah, there you are. Coming inside?"

"Yep just nursing my pride a little"

Shlomo laughed, "yes you've surely been playing with the next Max Kaminsky"

Jim smiled and shook his head.

"I don't know who that is."

Shlomo shrugged, "Come eat!"

"You betcha"

***

After dinner was over, the children immediately hopped up to begin clearing the long dinner table, with their mother issuing instructions in Yiddish.

Shlomo's cousin, Mordko, had been intensely interested in Jim's movements across the country - his motivations, his habits, and those of his friends or companions. He seemed, for some reason, to be terribly interested in the life of a young "hippy" (Jim had given up insisting he wasn't a hippy). It puzzled Jim, as Shlomo had explained that he was a lawyer - and given that he was also clearly a religious Jew with a beautiful family, what could he possibly want with hippy world?

As the plates were being cleared, Shlomo turned from his Yiddish conversation to Jim.

"Well, I suppose we should be on our way."

Before Jim could reply, Mordko interjected.

"Not just yet" he said, getting up from his seat. "We'll have a drink in the lounge. I'd like to talk just a bit more."

Jim looked at Shlomo, who shrugged, and then followed his cousin.

"You can have a drink with Mordko, I'll drive."

"I thought you can't drive?"

"Only on Shabbes"

"Isn't Shabbes Saturday?"

"Friday evening to Saturday evening. I can drive now."

They entered the lounge, a small nook above the garage lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases, packed with old tomes. Shlomo and Jim took seats in high-back antique looking plush chairs as Mordko began pouring wine.

"None for me, Mordko, I'll drive."

"Suit yourself" said Mordko, handing Jim a glass before taking a seat himself.

"Now, Jim. I wanted to pick your brain a bit."

"I gathered that, but I can't figure out why."

He looked at Shlomo and then looked back at Jim.

"I must be sparing in the details, because it is to do with a case I may be taking."

Jim stared blankly.

"I'm not sure how I could help -"

"You've already helped immensely, to confirm some suspicions of mine."

Jim began to feel like he might never know what's going on around him again.

Mordko, sensing his unease, continued, "It's difficult without disclosing too much."

Shlomo, eyes narrowed, broke the silence. "What kind of case?"

Mordko looked back at Shlomo, and gave him a nod.

"Murder."

Shlomo's eyes went wide.

Jim began protesting "Look I've been in this country not even a full twenty-four hours and..."

Mordko interrupted "the suspects have already been apprehended. One of them even turned himself in."

Jim stopped. "Oh." thinking, he continued, "what do you need me for?"

Mordko took a big swig of his glass.

"This is a province of small towns. Nothing big ever happens in these parts. Murder is not something that we're really prepared to deal with - not like this, anyway. Sure, a b-and-e gone wrong, a feud, a hunting "accident". But this was different. A young nursing student. Horribly disfigured. Sexually abused."

Shlomo closed his eyes and began praying in Hebrew.

Mordko continued.

"The problem is, we're not well versed in this. The police immediately had suspects - three friends of hers she had previously been seen with. Not near the time of the crime, not near the location. Just seen together. When the police put out the announcement that they were looking for the three as suspects, one turned himself in to the nearest police station immediately. He was two provinces over. The other two were found at home."

Jim shook his head.

"It sounds like a real tragedy, sir, but I'm still not sure how I can help."

"Ok, a serious question: if you had murdered someone, and the police had your name, and you were two provinces over, would you turn yourself in?"

Jim looked dumbfounded by the question. "I - I would never - "

"Of course, of course, you would never murder anyone. You would never hurt a fly. You seem that way to me. Respectful to woman and elders, patient and caring with children. But if you had found yourself in this situation - would you turn yourself in?"

Jim, thinking, had to reflect on his draft card and his current situation.

"No, no I don't think I would."

Mordko nodded. "Of course. These are small town cops. I don't know if anyone of them have worked on a murder case. They pulled in the first three people they could find. My immediate thought was that they are potential witnesses, not suspects. I was flabbergasted when their faces and names went in the papers. Even more so when one turned himself in."

"Well, if they're innocent - "

"No one will think they are innocent."

"Why?"

Shlomo and Mordko looked at each other.

"You have to understand, Jim. This isn't California. Travellers, hippies, long hair, marijuana - they might as well have waved a flag that said "arrest me.""

"So what can I do?"

"The truth is, you already have. I just wanted to talk a bit longer, get a sense of things. My immediate suspicion was that the police were going to make a right muck up of this case. And then - well, I've been approached to be on the defense counsel. This is why I was so interested in observing you today, talking to you. I've never met someone who looked like you, dressed like you, had your sort of hair cut - or lack thereof."

Jim chuckled, "Likewise."

Shlomo smiled.

Jim looked into his glass, swirling his drink.

"So what happens now?"

Mordko reclined in his chair and put his feet up on a stool.

"I think I'll have to take the case. You've confirmed my suspicions, Jim. There are plenty of good kids who just look a little bit - funny - to us."

"Well, good luck" said Jim.

Mordko raised his glass "Thanks"

Jim clinked him.

Mordko continued, "I think I'll need it. Well, that's all I had. You're welcome to stay, but it's not exactly a short drive."

Shlomo interjected "Yes, we'll need to leave. I've got a wife at home who isn't as happy with me as yours is right now."

Mordko stood up and he and Shlomo hugged. Jim finished his glass, shook hands with Mordko, and bade them farewell.

They went out the front and into the black pickup truck. Jim got in the passenger seat and immediately reclined.

"Your cousin's family sure are nice folks, Shlomo."

Shlomo, smiled while buckling up. "Of course! It's our way up here. Now, time for me to get home!"

Shlomo revved the engine and the pulled out the driveway onto the empty the road.

Shlomo tried a couple of times to start up conversation, but at first got only one-word responses and then, heard only snoring.

Shlomo glanced at his napping passenger.

"Well, I guess a little music then."

 

[durante]

Jim awoke to the warm fragrant smell of home cooking. He was in the guest room of Shlomo's Victorian farm home. The smell was irresistible. He put on some clothes and headed down the stairs to the action.

"Jimeleh!" said Shlomo with an enthusiastic laugh, "I didn't expect to see you so early!"

Shlomo motioned to his four children to sit back at the table, allowing his wife to begin serving.

"Morning Shlomo. Hello, ma'am, I'm Jim."

"Hi, I'm Shana, it's a pleasure," she replied, "come sit! I'll fix you a plate"

"Thank you, Shana, this looks amazing."

Jim sat down and everyone tucked in.

Shortly into their dining, Shlomo struck up conversation.

"So, Jim. I suppose we should get you up to Rosthern, the Mennonite community up there."

Jim mulled his thoughts over.

"They're pretty strict up there, huh?"

Shlomo shrugged "Yeah, I suppose they are. Mennonites are very frum. They'd make good Jews" he chuckled to himself.

"Litvaks" offered Shana, "So serious. Not Hasid." she said with seeming finality. Then, after reconsideration, she suggested, "Maybe Satmar."

Shlomo nodded with amusement, Jim caught nothing.

"That's why they have problems with conversion" continued Shana.

"What do you mean?" Jim piped in.

Shlomo looked consterned, "Please, Shana, only a few times. Conversion works both ways."

"For marriage. No young Jewish couples run away to have a Priest marry them..."

"Folktale" said Shlomo, shaking his head. "What rabbi would convert a couple by marriage?"

Shana shrugged and continued with a bemused smile, "How could he refuse a young Mennonite couple, adept in scripture, who see the tru- err" she stopped herself, glancing at Jim. "Sorry, who think they see the light or something."

Jim shook his head "Don't worry I'm not religious."

"Oh?" said Shlomo, thinking. "I'm not sure how you'll get along up there."

"I can find my way to town, take it from there. Grab a bus to Regina. Maybe Winnipeg."

Shlomo looked pensive. "It will be difficult I think. Need to show ID, maybe ask for a work permit. Better stay around here. Everyone community needs hands for the summer. Pay in cash."

Jim nodded in appreciation.

"Well what about here? Do you guys need hands?"

Shlomo and Shana looked at each other. "Of course, yes," he said, "we normally hire locals, but, yes."

Shana laughed, "Definitely on Shabbes. You'll have lots of work."

"The thing is, Jim. It's uh, this is a shtetl-kibets. In English they say Co-Operative Commonwealth."

"A kibbutz?" Jim was familiar with the Israeli collective settlement, at least notionally.

"Not exactly. More like a moshav."

Jim shook his head indicating he didn't understand.

"Well, I guess I'll show you."

After cleaning up breakfast, they headed outside. Jim noticed a cluster of Victorian homes, all roughly the same size as Shlomo's, much closer together than he was used to in the American countryside. He could see in the distance the fields that seemed to radiate outward from the cluster of homes, which encircled a plaza with several large buildings whose plain exterior prevented Jim from guessing what any of them were.

Shlomo's neighbours exited the front door and waved hello.

Shlomo and Jim waved back. Jim had noticed a trend with the Jewish women he had met on this trip and thought Shlomo might offer some insight.

"You know back home I've never seen farmer's wives with hair done up like that. It's immaculate."

"Wigs."

"What?"

"Hasidic women wear wigs, for modesty."

Must be high quality wigs, Jim thought, wide-eyed.

Shlomo slapped his shoulder, "Better than a bonnet?"

Jim chuckled.

"Well, let's head over to the Kehilla. I'll explain the situation, we'll see if we can't make you a summer hand for us. We sometimes have volunteers, like your kibbutzim. But, uh, shall we say, our beaches aren't quite as nice. We most get young Frum kids who can't make it at Yeshiva."

Jim nodded to the parts he understood and just shook his head at the parts he didn't.

Shlomo waved off an explanation. "We'll deal with this first. If you're gonna be here all summer, you'll figure it all out."

 

[durante]

https://www.chabad.org/news/article_cdo/aid/4474528/jewish/Roving-Rabbis-Report-Jewish-Life-in-Remote-Saskatchewan.htm

Fascinating article in Gonzo style about everyone's favourite Hasidic Jews doing "outreach" in Saskatchewan, looking for Jewish families in communities without rabbis to help lay tefillin or even perform an impromptu bar Mitzvah.

Some beautiful pictures of old synagogues, a few of the both the Mikveh and Cemetery in Hirsch, and many pictures of modern day Saskatchewan Jewry.

Comments section I also found interesting, many Saskatchewaners today seem to be aware of Jewish roots.

 

[durante]

Canora, Saskatchewan, early 2000s

The tension was palpable as Jake drove his son Dan home. He gripped the steering wheel of the pickup tensely.

Dan sat, arms crossed, staring ahead.

"We didn't go outside" Dan weakly tried pleading.

"You were goofing off, not studying. That's that." Replied Jake tersely.

Dan looked out his window at the Mennonites in the fields and half mumbled, "it was Bob Dylan..."

"That is NOT how Bob Dylan played..."

Dan rolled his eyes almost all the way into the back of his head.

"So you're going to drive me to Yorkton and back every weekend?" Dan couldn't defeat his father with facts and logic, but appealing to his sense of weekend laziness would usually work.

"Won't need to. Zaida and Baba will come get you on Fridays."

"Zaida and Baba don't drive on Fridays"

"You're right, not after sundown. They are going to pick you up from school. You'll stay with them for all of Shabbat, then Hebrew school and lessons with the Rabbi on Sunday. Then I'll come pick you up."

"WHAT? That's the whole weekend!" Dan protested. "For now long?"

"Until you become a man."

Dan was almost steaming from the nostrils. He muttered softly under his breath "it was Bob Dylan..."

***

The next Friday, after the school bell rang, Dan and his classmates grabbed their backpacks and barrelled outside, bursting with weekend plans.

Parents were going to Blockbuster, movies were being rented, pizzas being ordered.

When Dan's friends asked him what time he'd be over, he sheepishly avoided the question.

"What? My dad's renting I Know What You Did Last Summer. Sarah Michelle Gellar, man. Buffy!"

"I have to go to my grandparents."

"Oh lame. Why?"

Dan began to answer, but at that moment, a voice called from a ten-year-old Crown Victoria which looked brand new, less the dirt from the 200 km journey.

"Daneleh! Come here young man, so good to see you!"

Some of Dan's friends giggled at the sight of a Hasidic Jew, with long sidelocks, many layers of long clothing and huge graying beard.

"Gotta go". And with that, Dan headed off.

Some of his friends looked to Ben for explanation.

"Bar mitzvah stuff" explained Ben.

"Why aren't you going? You're cousins."

Ben shrugged "other side."

The kids from Canora headed off to go watch Buffy run from a slasher.

Dan, after quickly hugging his grandfather threw his backpack in the back seat of the vehicle with a huff, trying to avoid a kiss on the cheek while it happened.

"You're getting so tall! You'll be a man soon!"

"Zaida stop, the other kids -"

"Does Ben want to come too? Your Baba is making plenty of food!"

"No, he doesn't."

Zaida shrugged "Suit himself", as he fired up the car for the drive back to Yorkton.

 

[durante]

Placing a link to this fantastic map of the ethnic bloc settlements here so I can find it again:

Ethnic Bloc Settlements 1850s-1990s: Atlas of Saskatchewan Celebrating the Millennium

Ethnic Bloc Settlements 1850-1950s Map from Atlas of Saskatchewan Celebrating the Millennium, Sask Gen Web Project

sites.rootsweb.com

 

[durante]

Much of the information in here is sourced and adapted from https://www.canadashistory.ca/explore/prime-ministers/sir-wilfrid-laurier-and-canada-s-jews

"My son I have lost, but not my heir; humanity is my heir"
-Baron Maurice de Hirsch

In the first chapter, I had mentioned two PoDs for developing this TL, the first being a more proactive government which arranged for land to be available when the first Jewish settlers arrived (rather than two years later, when they had mostly left), and I had also mentioned the possibility of Baron Maurice de Hirsch hiring someone other than antisemite and anti-immigration campaigner Arnold White for purposes of discussing resettlement with the Czar.

I think I may have found our someone.

His name is Herman Landau, and he was an Anglo-Jewish financier, best known for his support of the East London Jewish Sheltering Home from 1885. In 1886, the year the Canadian Pacific Railway opened (which had been quite the investment vehicle for the wealthiest of North America and the UK), Landau became an agent. It was in fact he who financed the second, (and first lasting) Jewish settlement in Saskatchewan, at Wapella in 1886. He financed more than 40 Russian Jewish families, with farming experience, then living in the East End of London.

Landau was also a friend of Hirsch's. In 1887, Baron Maurice's son and only child, Lucien, tragically died at the age of 31. Shortly thereafter, Herman Landau stated that he went to Paris to visit the grieving parents. Landau would later say that, during that visit, he suggested the Hirsches "adopt all Israel as their children by founding colonies in Canada to rescue a great number of Jews from...persecution...at the hands of the autocratic Government of Russia".

According to Landau, Maurice later wrote to him, approving of the idea and asking him to find a committee to carry it out.

Landau's version of events is disputed, however - with a representative the Alliance Israelite Universelle (themselves financially supported by Hirsch) writing the Anglo-Jewish Association to inquire about the possibility of a Jewish farm colony in Canada. Hirsch would later found the Jewish Colonization Association (JCA) in 1891 for the express purpose of helping resettle Jews from Russia. The same year, Hirsch provided the Montreal Hebrew Benevolent Society with $20,000 for "welfare services", used to purchase a building which became an immigrant shelter and welfare headquarters.

The following year saw promises of further funding, and an agent of Hirsch even met with Prime Minister John Abbott to determine how Jewish settlement might be undertaken. A response from the Department of Agriculture voiced no objection to Jewish settlement, but rejected the proposal for "a whole and undivided colony", as "undesirable in the interests of the settlers themselves." It's not entirely sure what is meant by this, but lack of farming experience (or perceptions of such) may have been behind this view. This is the origin of the settlement in Saskatchewan bearing the name Hirsch.

The years 1891-1896 were quite turbulent in Canadian politics. Other than a brief, one-term interval, Sir John A MacDonald had served as Prime Minister from Confederation in 1867 to his death in 1891. He largely was Canadian politics during the first generation of the new nation's existence. Over the next five years, four different successors would try their hand at the PMship, all from John A's Conservative party, and at the next election, in 1896, Canada chose a new iconic Prime Minister, Liberal Wilfrid Laurier.

As such, it was Wilfrid Laurier who attended the Queen's Diamond Jubilee in London in 1897. Landau claims to have met with Laurier during this event, and, 9 years later, would state that Laurier had promised him a part of Manitoba where Jews might be granted "a measure of self-government", with their own bylaws, like for example substituting Saturday for Sunday as the day of rest (which was strictly enforced in those days).

Heretofore, the JCA's efforts had been primarily in resettling Russian Jews, escaping the pogroms in the Pale. In the spring of 1899, however, tensions boiled over in Romania to the extent that as many as 25,000 Romanian Jews began walking across the continent to reach Hamburg, where they hoped to embark to North America.

In events that would rhyme later in the 1930s, early in 1900 Canadian immigration agents were made aware of a large group of Romanian Jewish refugees who were coming to Canada, many via the USA. Laurier's Minister of Immigration, Clifford Sifton, had previously instructed his agents in Europe that he "objected to Romanian Jews as immigrants." In response, Sifton changed immigration requirements, requiring settlers to pay $25.00 before being sent out West. This change was made while the 2,000 Romanian Jews were in transit. In the end, 2,019 Romanian Jews arrived in Canada between July 16 and October 31 of 1900. Of these, 509 were sent to the USA, at least 922 remained in Quebec or Ontario without the funds to move west, at least 47 went to the coal mines in Cape Breton.

The "Fussgeier" (foot-walkers) as they were called, continued throughout the period 1899-1903. By 1900, the JCA was appealing to Canada, via London, for land to settle the Romanian Jews. In the spring of 1901, Laurier denied the request on the recommendation of his Sifton. By this time, however, 65 Romanian Jewish families were already en route. They were allowed to settle, and this is the origin of the Lipton colony. But, "Sifton's report, in which he questioned the Jews' suitability as farmers was influential, and did limit the size of settlement."

Although this sentiment was common, with Jews being listed among the "undesirables" by Canadian immigration agents as early as 1891.

Laurier, for his part, remained quite popular among Canadian Jews. Yiddish language newspapers implored those who could vote to vote Liberal. In 1905, after the Kishinev pogroms, Laurier attended a Zionist rally in Ottawa, where he said "We cannot bring all the Jews of that country [Russia] to Canada, but we can extend a hearty welcome to those who choose to come."

Around this time, Herman Landau became the head of the Montreal Hebrew Benevolent Society.

(tbc, gotta light some candles)

 

[PGSBHurricane]

Interesting to see this influx of Romanian Jews into North America. I wonder what other butterflies will develop with this?

 

[durante]

Interesting to see this influx of Romanian Jews into North America. I wonder what other butterflies will develop with this?

Cheers! Appreciate the interest. Had a busy month but never intended to leave this hanging, hopefully have an update in the next few days...let's see next weekend at latest!