Stories

My father was very anxious to have his family out of Brooklyn as he had a sick daughter named Anna. He went to the mountains looking for a farm to buy. He did not like the schools there. He wanted to find a place that had a school for his five daughters, (my parents had seven daughters).

A friend told my father about Toms River, the town with 800 people and one policeman. He came to Toms River and liked the high school. My two older sisters attended the high school.

My father bought the "Wills" farm on the Old Freehold Road, a farm of 52 acres, which he farmed. He was the first Jewish farmer in Toms River. He came on March 19, 1910. He raised many crops; corn, wheat, potatoes and peanuts. He also had cows. He won many prizes for his vegetables in Grover's store on Main Street.

My family was the first to have chickens on his farm. We had the first hand incubator. The eggs were turned by hand, daily in this type of incubator. Because of his interest in both Palestine (now Israel) and chickens, he arranged to send White Leghorns to Israel. For many years he worked for Israel with Mr.  Friedman, Mr. Sachs and Mr. Schein.

The younger girls attended a one room school on old Freehold Road called the Gowdy School; eight classes in one room. It was next to the Goldman farm. There was one teacher, Mrs. Goble. My father took us out of this school after one year. We five girls then drove to Toms River with a horse and wagon. My sister Henrietta did the driving as she was the oldest (when she graduated High School, there were eight in her class).

Henrietta and my sister Rose attended school at Trenton Teachers' School and became teacher. Later, when sister Henrietta married Mr. J. Samuelson,  she  was  the  first Jewish teacher in the Toms River School.  She taught sixth and seventh grades.

We lived on the farm for 10 years. My father worked very hard with Mr. Mazur of the Jewish Agricultural Society to help get the Jews out of the sweat-shops of Brooklyn and New York and onto farms .

My father, Samuel Kaufman, was a man who could not read or write. He was a very successful man. He was a builder in Brooklyn. He loved the land and he was a great farmer.  He was always ready to help anyone he felt needed help.

He and my mother, Roslie gave the land for the Jewish Community Center. They felt that the Jews who were coming to Toms River would need a place to meet. Mr. Jacob Wexler built the building.

After 10 years my father sold the farm to the Cohen Brothers and my father bought the Murray Feed Co. on Water Street. Mr. Samuelson, with my father, ran that feed company, which later became the United Feed Co.  After the store on Water Street had a fire, a new building was built near the railroad on Flint Road.

When we moved to Toms River we thought we were going to the end of the world. Family and friends came to bid my parents "Good-bye" and just sat there and cried I can remember that well.

During those 60 years, I met and worked with a wonderful lot of men and women who helped the Jewish Community get better and better. I can't list them all, but I certainly thank them for their friendship and cooperation.

Here are a few:

My father-in-law Sam Kaufman, His daughters Henrietta and Lillian, Albert Kushinsky, Hyman Novoselsky-the father of those fine Novins boys. Harry  Dinnerstein-father  of Martin and Lionel Dinnerstein. Sam Luria, Max Leet, Aaron Pincus, Jack Baer, Nathan Friedman family , the Wexler - Estomin families, Joe Haberman, Old Man Rosenkranz, the Polsky's and Pyenson's, the Haft's, the Dardick's, the Robinson's, the Plaut's, the Ehrmann's and many many more . . .

In August I will have finished my 83rd year. Thanks to you all, they were happy years. May God bless you all, and may God bless America, where such wonderful things are possible.

H. Jerry Samuelson

In the Spring of 1918 my parents, Joseph and Mary Estomin with my brother Harold joined their relatives, the Wexlers, in a joint venture: farming. Coming from New York City to  the good clean air for Harold, who was asthmatic, was just what the doctor ordered.

In the big old house on Old Freehold Road, formerly the Samuelson Farm, lived my grandparents Hyman and Rose Wexler, my uncle Abraham, my uncle and aunt Jacob and Sonia Wexler, their children Goldie, Ida, Isadore, Bennett and Samuel, my parents Joseph and Mary and my brother Harold. They ran a general farm growing corn, cabbages, beets; raising cows, horses and 500 chickens on the outside, and a boarding house on the inside. Friends and family with all their children were always coming from the City to the country.

At that time, Old Freehold Road was the main highway between Lakewood and Toms River, and our house became the focal point of the Jewish Community.   There was  no electricity  in the rural areas so we had installed our own electric system. We had the tremendous Delco batteries which provided us with some of our needs.

My father continued to work in New York as a milkman for four years to supplement the family income. He came to Toms River every Friday night and went back every Sunday on the train from Lakewood. The trip to Lakewood by horse and buggy took longer than the train ride to NY.

Food shopping was a major outing to Lakewood to purchase flour, salt, sugar by the 100 Lb. bag and then visiting Jewish friends to exchange the current news. Once a week the Schochet came to the farms for the slaughtering of the animals for the table. Most of the food consumed was grown and canned by my mother, grandmother and aunt. Visitors from N Y brought delicacies we couldn't get here. Every Friday morning  before daybreak my grandmother was up preparing for Shabbas; baking her Challah, bread, pastries for the Sabbath and the rest of the week. Then followed meat, chicken and whatever else was on the menu. This was all done on a wood and coal stove which also was part of the heating system for the entire house.

During the month of May 1920, my mother went to NY to await my arrival. Shortly after I was introduced to the "Family" and to Toms River. At the same time as my arrival, we welcomed a new neighbor: the Hyman Friedmans and their children Ida, William, Abraham and Minnie.

In 1924 my uncle Abraham brought his bride to live with us. A year later my cousin Beatrice was born.

The Jewish families already residing in Toms River were the Samuelsons, Kaufmans, Novins, Eichenbaums and the Max Leet family. As always, there was a strong need for Jews to get together. At first there were minyuns in individual homes and then they began to meet in the Wexler house for meetings and functions.

In 1924 my parents built their own home on Church Road which was a subdivided parcel of  the  original  farm.    My  uncle  Abe,  his family  and  his in-laws, the Woloshins,  built their farm right next to ours from the same parcel. At  this  time  my  parents  started poultry farming . The Jewish Agricultural Society was quite active helping Jews resettle on farms. In 1926 my parents were awarded  an Outstanding Jewish Farmer of New Jersey Award from the J A S. Soon we had a capacity of 4,000 chickens which was considered one of the largest farms in New Jersey.

My father and mother, together with their four children, moved from downtown New York City to Toms River on May 30, 1920. I vividly recall the first day in Toms River. We came from the train to the farm in a Ford Model T touring sedan.  The road (now Route 9) was an unpaved sand road. The farm consisted of a large house and a very large barn. There were several hogs, a horse and dozens of guinea hens. The house had no electricity. The modern conveniences consisted of an outdoor toilet, an outdoor open well and an indoor hand water pump. There was also a combination wood and cool stove in the kitchen used for cooking purposes and to heat the entire house. There were few homes in the area. Our closest neighbors was the Wexler family, and several others who are by now deceased. There was a one room schoolhouse nearby. The year we settled in Toms River was the first year school busses (2) were used to transport the children to school.

There was but a handful of Jewish families residing in the Toms River area in the early 1920s. There was no Community Center. However, even with no center for the Jewish residents to meet, there were religious services every Saturday and holidays at the home of Mr. Hymen Novins, the father of Ben and the late Bob Novins. The spirit of the handful of Jewish farmers was splendid. Never was there any disharmony or bickering. They had but one purpose in mind; to survive. The best way to survive was to organize. Some people suggested why don't we build a Community Center where all the Jewish people could meet and discuss their problems, and also of course, a place to worship. A short time later, on a Sunday afternoon, about a dozen and a half persons met at my father's home and decided to build a community building. Among those present at this initial meeting were Mr. Novins, Mr. Jacob Wexler, Mr. Mac Kenvin, Mr. Isaac Weinman and Mr. Morris Rosenberg. It was decided to erect the community building on an acre of land donated by Mr. Samuel Kaufman, owner of the United Feed Company. Land at that time was valued at about $40 an acre. The Community was to be build an the corner of Old Freehold and Whitty Roads. Mr. Jacob Wexler and Mr. Morris Rosenberg were contracted to erect the building.

In 1925 cornerstone ceremonies were held and the birth of the Toms River Community of Jewish Farmers was held. When the building was completed it was so different from what it Is today. The basement had a sand floor with a large wood furnace to heat the building. Therefore, during the cold months it was necessary for someone to come early and start the furnace and allow some time to heat the building.

With all the inconveniences, everyone enjoyed themselves. All came to the meetings; the spirit was excellent.  It was an honor to be an officer and to be elected to the executive board. Now we need some of the pioneer enthusiasm today. As I recall, one person who did a great deal for the younger people was Goldie Wexler (Mrs. Goldie Rothman). She helped organize activities and social functions. Her efforts were wonderful.

Abe Freedman

In another 7 months it will be 50 years since we have settled in Toms River. In 1921, the town and township had a population of 1700-1800 (now over 40,000). The streets were unpaved and often muddy with hitching posts on Main and Washington Streets and only one block of shopping places.

We were among the first of a wave of Jewish farmers, all starting a new life on land on a shoestring. If there are any analogies to be drawn with the first "halutzim" in Israel, it is sameness of ideas. To build a new life on land.; to escape the dreary city life in shops and so-called "businesses in the ghettos".

Even before these pioneers were established as self sustaining farmers, and everyone built and expanded and lived on credit, they built a Community Center embracing a synagogue, a children's Yiddish school, a center for cooperation and cultural activities (as well as social life).

We, the Pincus' came to Toms River as hardened workers of the land. I went through a two year course in Agriculture in the Baron De Hirsh Agriculture School in Woodbine,  NJ and became a wandering farm worker on 17 farms in 9 states from coast to coast.

We settled on our first  farm (two brothers) near Flemington,  NJ (on a general farm) . Two years later we came by ourselves to Toms River.

My life partner, Clara, had by that time developed a love of land, of creative farming, animals, vegetables, fruit trees and particularly flowers. The beauty of the fields and woods, sunrises and sunsets of every season have for many years (to this day) compensated for many tight situations and difficulties in which all newcomers to  the Jewish Community were cheerful companions.

It didn't take long and Clara was teaching her gentile neighbors how to raise flowers, how to care for hens, and how to can and preserve fruits and vegetables . She received her first blue ribbons for flowers and preserves at the first County Fair in Beachwood (in the early 20's). At the same time she participated in the cultural and social life in the growing community; the Ladies auxiliary, the Folk Shule, etc. Our son was born in 1925. She raised him to a fine man, a good Jew and lover of land.

The building of farm and home has not deterred me from full scale participation  in building the Jewish Community. I have served as three time (7 years) President of the Community of Jewish Farmers as well as recording secretary and member of the executive board for tens of years. I directed the Yiddish Folk Shule, formed the Yiddish dramatic club, presented several one act plays and community sings. I served as President of the first Jewish Feed Cooperative: the first Breed Improvements Group (we had 10 pens of pullets in the state laying contest). We had on our farm the champion white leghorn with 311 Eggs). I served as secretary of the White Oak Cooperative, the Federal Farmers Credit Union and the Federated Egg Producers Cooperative. I served on the Executive Board of the Ocean County Board of Agriculture.  I served as chairman of the Patrons Committee of the White Oak Cooperative G.L.F. for 9 years; as director of the  Federal Land Bank, as member of the  Farm Home Administration  Committee,  as member of the Coordinating Price Control Committee going  to  Washington,  D.C. to boost egg prices through Government purchases.

Last but not least was leading a movement for the White Oak Cooperative for a Municipal Electric Plant in Dover Township. It was voted down in a referendum after a stiff fight. The archives (records and press releases, etc.) of the Community of Jewish Farmers are now in the Yiddish Scientific Institute in New York City, and have been used already by a writer of a book about the South Jersey Jewish Farm Colonies. Adding the participation in drives for Ambijau (the false dream) and various campaigns for Israel, it looks in retrospect like a worthwhile pastime.

Now being retired from actual farming, we are still the enthusiastic nature lovers as in our youth. And what could be more soul satisfying than watching a seed sprout  and grow into a flower or vegetable, watching a tree (a blue spruce) grow from a six to eight inch stripling grow into a twenty foot beauty; watching a mighty oak tree (on our front lawn) stricken by lightning and dying from the top, come to life again and grow a new crown; watching white sand field growing nothing but pesky weeds  grow  darker  and fatter after cultivation and heavy with good vegetation and fruitfulness.

This is the joy of farming and merging with nature that inspired tens of thousands of Jews in colonies in Israel, in the USA, in Argentina or Crimea. It shall never  be forgotten.

A. Pincus

Jan. 18, 1976

Max Rosenkranz came to Toms River in 1923. Because of his agricultural background he was interested to settle in a farm area. He was referred by the Jewish Agricultural Society and settled here with his son Jack and later followed by daughter Mae. His younger four children were left in Europe (Poland) with their grandparents.

A year or so later he began farming on Church Road. It is still his home after more than fifty years.

The younger four children; Sid, Tanya , Ben and Bernice arrived in Toms River in 1929 just before the stock market crash.

The first Impression was the friendliness and closeness of all the Jewish families. The cooperative spirit was superb in every phase of the lives of our family. While the Community House was the focal point of all the Jewish family, the individual families like the Kenvin's and Bear's, stood out in our minds, especially Max Kenvin. Throughout the summer that we arrived, Mr. Kenvin visited every day to prepare us for the Toms River School in September.

Mr. & Mrs. J. Baer were our second parents. There was so much cooperation in everything. Early school years were most memorable. Teachers were much more professional and dedicated .

The community acted like an extended family. There was no such thing as a nuclear family. Every household could count on other members of the community for supportive aid. Five of the six children live in Ocean County and the sixth in Clifton. There are 12 grandchildren and two great grandchildren.

The grandchildren have chosen varied ways of life. The oldest grandson is a Lieutenant Colonel in Air Force Reserve. Others became business men, a teacher, a banker, an anthropologist serving in Africa , a farmer in a cooperative with the Mennonites in Pennsylvania, a building project manager and an international trade coordinator.

The patriarch of the family, who is in his 95^th year is still living in the old homestead, still alert and very interested in his family , Congregation and Community. His oldest great granddaughter is a college student.

OUR FIRST WINTER & FOLLOWING YEARS IN TOMS RIVER

By Regina Goldberg

In October of 1927 my mother, Pauline Vormund, my sister Evelyn Weiss, brother-in-law and their two small children and I first came out to Toms River where my mother bought a poultry farm. She was in ill health and had been advised to try Toms River. At that time the farmers already here found it hard to make a living. So as a supplement their family income, some people rented out rooms. My mother rented a room to Mr. & Mrs. Socolow. She went out to help Mrs. Socolow feed the chickens, etc. and found she liked the life and felt better within 6 weeks than she ever felt in the City. We had come from Brooklyn - Ft. Hamilton Parkway-50th St. where we  had a two family dwelling with a grocery and appetizing store below.

We sold that and moved here and bought the farm where Rose and Jack Fleischman now reside on Old Freehold Road. It was a hard struggle that winter. We all had our own chores to do, Chickens got sick,  prices dropped and the winter was a hard one. The roads were unpaved. There were no shopping centers. There was only one bank, the Ocean County Trust Co., on the corner of East Water And Washington Sts. by the river.  Small stores lined Main St.; A&P, Rays Drugs, Schwarz Meat Market.

The Bea Lea Cattle Farm owned by Mr. McGuire was across the street way back, as near the road were the corn fields. The corn stalks used to grow 8 feet tall. The clover field and hay were a sight to see in those days. The air was pure and always there was the odor of new mown hay in the air.

After a few years we sold that farm to Jack Goldstein's parents and we bought another farm; across the street of Todd Road which my mother and I managed ourselves.

My sister and family built their own farm next door to us. Across from them lived Morris and Sophie Myers, on a farm. By then the prices of eggs went up. I remember one time they were for $1.00 a dozen and the future for the poultry farmers looked brighter.

We used to trudge in the snow to the old Jacob Wexler place where Mr. Rabinowitz would come on a Thursday and schochet chickens for the farmers.

During spring and summers besides the chickens, we had a cow and a garden and fruit trees which kept us busy no end. Preparing the ground, planting, waiting for the harvesting and then all the canning and preserving. Being we had chickens, a cow for milk, cream and cheese and all the vegetables and fruits. There was little else we needed.

We still had coal and wood stoves and furnaces. So we kept busy and there certainly was no time to brood like so many people do today - and no matter how much they have its never enough. We were happier then than people are today because the more they have the more they want.

We saw the youngsters grow up to be fine young men and women and get married and raise families of their own.   I feel they may all well be proud of themselves for a job well done.

Harry Haft came to the United States from Russia with his parents,  grandparents, brothers and sisters, in 1906. After traveling around the country, working at odd jobs, he settled with his parents on a farm in Brainerd, New-York (near Albany), which had been bought with the help of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS).  It was there that Clara Duchin went for her vacation from her job in the garment industry in New York City (the type of work she had been doing since she was a small child in Russia). They were married in 1917 and stayed on the farm for a year or two, where their son, Isaac, was born. They moved to Crown Point, Indiana, where Harry worked in the steel  mills of Gary and where their daughter, Edna, was born. They then moved back East to a dairy farm in East Greenbush, New York, where their daughter, Helen was born.

In 1927, they moved to a poultry farm on Old Freehold Road as partners with Clara's sister and brother-in-law, Louis and Ida Pyenson. Several years later they bought the farm across the street.

Edna recalls events from those early years such as the struggle to make ends meet and the financial help given by the Jewish Agricultural Society. The first year on the farm they had no chickens and they took in boarders, just as the Hafts had done in Brainerd, New York.

Harry and Clara worked side by side, borrowing money and re-investing any profits into building new coops, barns for feed, modernizing with automatic waterers and feed carriers.

Harry died at the age of 58 in 1942, and Clara ran the farm after that, until 1961, when she sold it. She lived across the street in an apartment in her sister's house  (the Dardicks) and finally, with her daughter and son-in-law, Irv and Edna Goodman, until her death at the age of 81 in 1973.

The Haft children grew up on the farm. Helen left permanently when  she  went  to college. Isaac stayed until he was drafted in WW II. He returned with his wife, Lucille, and ran the farm with his mother for several years until the economic conditions  in poultry farming forced him to look for other sources of income. He worked as a project engineer and died in California at the age of 50, in 1967.

Edna Haft met Irvin Goodman in 1938. He had moved to a farm on Silverton Road with his mother and stepfather, Mr. and Mrs. Max. J. Smith.  They were married in 1940, had a small farm on Vermont Avenue and then moved to the Haft farm after her father died. After Irv spent a couple of years in the Army, they bought a farm on Old Freehold Road, which they farmed until 1952, when adverse economic conditions forced them to sell it. They moved to Clayton Avenue, where they have been living ever since. Their three children, Fred, Joan and Lois, live in Maryland, Wisconsin, and California, respectively.

Reminiscing about the Jewish Community Center, Edna recalls that,  while  her father was not religious, he was willing to join the services when they were short of men. He also made sure that the furnace was lit (wood and coal) whenever there was a meeting. The meetings were the social events  and the children were  usually  present as  baby-sitters were unheard of in those days.

Papa and mama Levich and Ida Pyenson, with Jacob and Mildred, aged 7 and 5, moved to a farm in Toms River in October, 1927. They left a thriving hand laundry business in New York City to try to regain Papa's health on a farm.

The farm was (and is) on Old Freehold Road, just a little south of the Toms River Jewish Community center. Even though there were few neighbors around we were not lonely. Mama's sister and brother-in-law, Clara and Harry Haft, were partners on the farm when it was bought. Our cousins, Izzy, Edna and Helen were all in our age group. City relatives visited often with many more cousins.  There was always someone to play with.

Needless to say the fresh farm air did not cure Papa's leukemia. He died in July 1928. Over the next few years the Haft family  moved to the the next farm across the street, and Mama married Harry Dardick, a second cousin.

One of the reasons the Pyensons and Hafts chose the farms they bought was their closeness to the Jewish Community Center. Thus the Jewish Community  Center became the focus for all our social activities.  Harry and Ida Dardick never put aside their responsibilities to the Jewish Community Center. Harry held many  offices  and  Ida worked in the Ladies Auxiliary throughout all its existence.

The struggle on the farms is well documented. The work was hard, the hours were never-ending and the financial returns were small. But there is a lot to be said for living in a small Jewish Community. The early Jewish farm families devoted themselves to giving their children what they deemed was important. They established a Sholem Aleichem Folk Shule where we, the children learned to read and write Yiddish. We Learned Jewish History. We gained insight into  our  Jewish  Holidays.  We  learned Jewish songs. We recited Jewish poetry. We listened to the literature  of  Sholem Aleichem and I. L. Peretz. Our parents created an identity and haven for us in a hostile world.

The adults meanwhile struggled to survive harsh economic conditions. They organized purchasing co-operatives, the White Oak Poultrymen's Cooperative for equipment and the F. L. F. for buying feed, and the egg marketing co-operative FEPCU, (the Federated Egg Producers' Co-operative Association, Inc). The local Credit Union was also established in the 1930's to ease the credit squeeze.

The 1940's  brought great changes to the area. Because of WWII, egg  prices  rose sharply. Farms expanded. Refugees from Nazi persecution settled on farms.  City workers sought a new way of life and came to the farming area. The Jewish Community Center grew by leaps and bounds. Politics in the Community Center became almost unruly for awhile. Different factions developed.  Personal animosities  developed.  But time smoothed out the problems and the Jewish Community Center survived.

One of the big fights in the Community Center revolved around its name. When the Community was established it was called the Toms River Community of Jewish Farmers. As the membership dwindled, a group proposed to omit Farmers and call the organization the Toms  River Jewish Community  Center.   Sentiment lost and the name was changed.

I was born in 1933 in Paul Kimball Hospital. At the time we lived on a farm with my grandparents Meyer and Ray Friedman and the Zalkin Schein family (the present Manfred & Hilda Lindauer farm) in Whitesville.

Earliest memories are of the Friedman House, a Kosher boarding house with lots of fresh air and fresh eggs. A sign nearby was offering acreage on Route 9 at $100.00 per acre. The boarding house guests were Labor Zionists, Yiddish speaking, and always singing. There were always appeals for U.J.A. and J.N.F.

Dad peddled eggs in New York City to the boarders who had visited the farm. We had our own cows. Buba made her own pot cheese, butter and buttermilk.

I attended Yiddish school at the Toms River Community of Jewish Farmers. We had Chanukah plays in Yiddish.  My best friend was Leonard Baer.

When it came time to be Bar Mitzvah, I went to Lakewood with Arthur Maron to the Rebbe who prepared us. (Arthur is now a Doctor and has also been President of his synagogue.)

Summers were spent carrying pails of water to the chickens in the shelters. My hair was sandy colored and I was very dark tan from the sun. I truly had pine needles in my hair and sand in my toes from running around in the woods.

Jewish Community life seemed to be part of everyday living. Mother with Haddassah, Dad with the Cardoza Club, Buba with Pioneer Women and Zeide with Farband. People were always coming and going for all Jewish causes. Living at a boarding house, visiting speakers were invariably guests at the Friedman House.

As a teenager, we had a Community Center basketball team. Sammy Wexler was the coach. I belonged to the Episcopal Church Boy Scout Troop and did a lot of hiking and camping in the woods where Silver Ridge is now. We swam in the creek (the North branch on Route 70 before Route 70 was there).

At 16, I met Fran Solomon who made a lasting impression. After attending Rensselear Polytechnic Institute for 5 years, marrying Fran and working for G. E, it was back to Toms River in 1957. I became a member of the Congregation Board and President from 1969-1974.

There have been many changes in the last 43 years. Our four children are blessed with advantages provided by so many who have worked to improve the facilities and content of our Jewish Community.

In the 1930's, Toms River was a town where you not only knew all 2000 inhabitants, but you also knew their license plate numbers.

The Jewish Community changed from almost all poultry farmers to hardly any. Our village has become a city, and life, will never be the same.

Were the "good old days" better? They were good, today is better, and tomorrow, we hope will be best of all.

Zev Rosen

The early part of 1928, I took my first trip out of New York City. My father was told by his doctor that it was urgent that he leave New York for his health and settle someplace in the quiet of the country. This meant leaving the luxury surroundings of the Bronx and the garment loft on 7th Ave.

The guiding arm for Jews wishing to settle in the country was the Jewish Agricultural Society. They pointed us towards Toms River where Pop and I went to survey possible sites for a chicken farm. I was 7 years old and remember the trip from the Bronx. It was an expedition of subways, ferry and trains. We were met in Toms River and shown around to various sites. I recall one place Pop thought unsuitable because of its location. It was a property on Route 37. (He was right, as the location was only good for shopping centers).

Well our dream farm was chosen on Long Swamp Road, later changed to Broadside Drive, which sounded more fashionable to developers.

Now the time came to move and shortly before Thanksgiving we packed and again took the journey to far away Toms River; Mom, Pop and five children. We arrived early that day and awaited the truckers . I remember the day well. It was cold and dreary around the house, with 2 older sisters wondering what we were doing here (I can imagine how the early settlers felt).

The chill of the day was not helped by the coal furnace in the basement with only one heating outlet in the center of the dining room floor, (so unlike the modern houses moved into by later farmers).

Well, the truckers finally arrived about 8 hours late due to their finding some wine Mom had made for the holidays. That cold day we all stood gazing out the window at a barn and a strange building called a coop. I kept asking where the candy store is, forgetting this wasn't the Bronx.

Things have a way of falling into place and taking shape. We started school and made friends with neighbors who were happy to see that we looked human.

We soon received cute little baby chicks which grew up to be very stupid. They were raised in quaint little buildings called brooder houses. This part was fun for  about  3 days. Then I found myself pushing a wheelbarrow around for hours; feeding, watering and lugging pails of coal to each brooder house to keep the stoves going for heat. I forgot to mention, we had no water in the fields so we would carry 2 pails at a time from the house about 1/2 mile away. I was developing muscles you can't get in the Bronx. Later on we had the luxury of a hand pump for water installed in the fields.

Time passed and soon these cute chicks were laying eggs, and the fruits of your labor were seen. Now  we had to prepare new quarters for these chickens  called  laying houses.   You prepared like it was a festival,  spreading  litter on the floors,  hanging up nests, arranging feed hoppers and egg shell boxes - what funny names.

Now we went out in the night and caught the pullets as they were called, and carefully stuffed them in crates. Being we had no other transportation, I learned to stack these crates high on a wheelbarrow and push them like a donkey to their new quarters. As I write this , I don't know if I was strong or stupid.

Well, we were now in full swing; eggs coming in for real money. I started to learn new words like "go pack the eggs", "candling", "wet mash" and "go clean the dropping board." Soon we progressed to a horse and some cows. Again  some new expressions  "go clean the barn''. It seemed all you did on the farms was clean something. The horse relieved me of some work but also moved very slowly. I recall riding to Lakewood, via horse and wagon, to go to the Schchet with Pop.  What a fun day; 10 hours round trip.

We were eating well, and in the spring, planted large gardens, did canning and prepared for another season, a little wiser and more adept at raising chickens.

Time passed and I became an expert at culling chickens (catching a chicken with a hook on the run), milking cows and brushing on black leaf forty (not a job for city people). All these chores were sure to help me in later life when I opened a dress shop. We also knew the summer was over when all the relatives left and promised to return for Thanksgiving.

By now we were learning how to cope with coccidiosis production drops, molting birds, water pipes breaking, high feed costs, low egg prices and a hundred other things.

We looked forward to meetings and get togethers at the Jewish Community  Center where we discussed everything and found out your problems were not unique. Work was hard and somehow you added to the size of your farm, improved your standard of living, bought a car and developed a closeness of family interest. Time passed and we all went our separate ways.

Now we all have the fine conveniences of modern living. I don't push wheelbarrows anymore, haven't cleaned a dropping board in years, and  as I look  back I often  day dream of sitting in the warm brooder house with the chirping and lovely aroma of small baby chicks, which now seems like a different world ago.

By Helen Breslow

On the last day of the year 1929, our family, my children Rebecca, 8 and George, 3, with my beloved husband, Nathan, came to Toms River to find an "easier" life on a farm. It turned out to be a very hard one. We had bought Dinnerstein's farm on Old Freehold Road with three mortgages. My husband, nevertheless, kept his job in New York City from Saturday through Friday and developed a wholesale egg distribution business while my brother-in-law worked the farm. I drove a truck to pick up eggs from the farmers, and had a 1924 Dodge sedan; crank start. Its radiator leaked and I always carried a bucket of water.

When the banks closed during the Depression one of the two banks in Toms River didn't close and fortunately we were able to honor our obligations to the farmers by taking in boarders. The farmers themselves used to drive to Lakewood to meet my husband at the bus terminal to bring him home every Friday night. All of the farmers worked hard to survive. There were no lights on the roads and my boarders and visitors from New York were afraid to go out at night, in the dark, and were amazed at the bravery of the farmers.

In those days there were a few Jewish merchants and professionals in town, but our life was involved with the farmers, and we immediately joined the Community of Jewish Farmers. We were a handful of people, perhaps 20, in plain farm clothes. There was hardly any activity. Meetings were monthly. It made a poor impression upon me. Yet, this Community of Jewish Farmers was to become my second home.

Through the years I was to serve as board member, vice-president, and president.  I was responsible for bringing in speakers for discussions on contemporary issues and all the members soon looked forward to meetings which were interesting and enlightening, touching upon every facet of Jewish life. Of course, we had strong political differences among us and many times I had to alert the speakers to proceed cautiously.

While I was continually devoted to this second home through its dynamic growth it had its many tribulations, but I, nevertheless, enjoyed this work immensely. I felt a serious responsibility to the Community and to  Jewish aspirations. From its beginnings I introduced the United Jewish Appeal through our programs, continuing to lead this drive for 35 years. I also helped establish the Jewish National Fund and the Israeli Bond drive.

After the creation of the State of Israel, I further brought in many films and speakers. By the time  I left Toms  River in 1973, we  had drives  reaching a mark exceeding  the

$60,000 level.

Following the establishment of the Congregation, a great split between it and the Community resulted, with the Congregation then holding its own UJA drive. In time, a reunification of this UJA drive was effected.

To this day, I correspond with some of our early Community founders now scattered throughout various parts of the country.

  P.S. I feel particularly pleased and honored that you have called upon me and my recollections with respect to the development of the Jewish presence in the Toms River history which has   been such an important part of my life as well as that of my husband and family.

We arrived in Toms River in the spring of 1929. My late husband decided it would be a very nice place to raise a family.

We bought a seven room house on Bay Avenue, which at that time was called Beaver Dam road. It had kerosene lamps for light, a well on the back porch, a hand pump, an outhouse and a coal stove which was used for heat.

The first thing we did after purchasing our home was to go into town to Brant's Lumber Company to get an estimate for renovating the house. The manager greeted us and asked whose house we had bought. When we told him he laughed and said, "I know that house, it belonged to Indian Tom. It is called Tom Tit's Homestead." When we were leaving the store, he called us back and said, "Let me give you a bit of advice, if the mosquitoes don't get you, the natives will."

Talking about mosquitoes, in the early years they were unbearable, but as time went on, they sprayed the bogs, etc. and thereby got rid of most of them.

The house was renovated with all modern conveniences . When the natives heard we had installed a bathroom with running water, they came to ask if we would let them see it. They had never seen a bathroom before and they were simply fascinated. Only Indian Tom thought we were very foolish to have a bathtub with all the water that the lakes around us provided.

When we got settled, a committee of Jewish women from the community center came to greet us. They told us all about the community house, that it was not only for social purposes, but it was also a synagogue. They invited me to join them in all activities and become a member. I did join the Community and have remained a member all these years. Needless to say, I have spent many happy hours there.

If you did not want to travel to the synagogue on religious holidays, the people living near the synagogue opened their homes to you and invited you to be their guests for the duration of the holidays . The invitation meant that you slept at their homes and enjoyed the holidays with them.

We also found our neighbors very friendly. They would bring us vegetables from their gardens and also gave us berries and fruit from the trees that they had on their land. If you let your neighbors graze their cows on your pasture, they gave you all the milk you could use. If you bought milk, the price was 8¢ a quart.

We all traveled  by horse and buggy and when your neighbors went into town, they always offered to take you along. If you were busy and couldn't go along, they would do your shopping. We had dirt roads without any lights. We never closed our doors. Everyone knew everyone.

The shopping area in town consisted of a small store which was our post office, a grocery store, gentile butcher, Meyers Store, and Purpuri Shoe Store. The kosher butcher and baker came from Lakewood once every two or three weeks with their wares . We also had a grocery store on wheels and a huckster selling fruit.

The only means of transportation to New York was by railroad. The Jersey Central went as far as Hoboken. From there you had take a ferry across the river to New York. Trains ran only once a day in either direction.

Joseph Shaiman first came to the Lakewood area as a visitor in 1929 from the Bronx, New York, where he resided with his wife, Gertrude, and his sons Bernard and Hyman.

When the depression of the 1930s hit the country, he lost his job as a carpenter on high rise buildings in New York City.

In 1931 he purchased sixteen acres of land on Chestnut Street in Lakewood, keeping eight acres for himself, and selling the other eight. On this site he proceeded  to construct what at that time was considered one of the most modern poultry farms in the area. The entire farm including the living house was built by himself.

Almost all of the buildings are still in use at the present time. The farm and also some additional rented units in the Toms River area were in continuous operation until 1963 when economic conditions in the poultry industry made it necessary to discontinue operation.

Mr. Shaiman passed away in 1963. He is survived by his wife, Gertrude, his sons, Bernard and Hyman, and four grandchildren, Leo, Andrew, Joseph and Michael, all residing in the Lakewood - Toms River area.

Kindly forgive me, if in telling you of the founders of Jewish communal life in Toms River, I may be editorializing . The present is so shabby when compared to the past, that I wish with all my heart that we could emulate the Cohens, Socolows, Dardicks, Estomins, Ledermans, Sachs, Pincuses and all the other fine Jewish families that settled and pioneered this area.

It all began in the late twenties and early thirties. There were four Yiddish newspapers, reflecting every shade of opinion. The Yiddish theater was represented in every Jewish enclave in New York, Brownsville, the Bronx and the lower Eastside had their own attractions. Not every production was a work of art. We did have Maurice Schwartz's art theater.  I shall never forget the Elder Schildcraut's "Bronx Express".

On the educational level, the children of the founders went either to the Arbeiter Ring (Workmen's Circle) or the Sholem Alechem Folk Shule (school). Ours was a secular education. There was no Alef Beys biz Bar Mietzvah schooling for us. Most of us went on into our late teens, studying our great Y. L. Perez, Hirshbein, Sholem Alechem, and others in the original Mama Lushen. We were taught of the trials and tribulations of our ancestors living in the anti Semitic overt atmosphere of Poland Russia and the Baltic States. We were also well informed of the covert brand that characterized the so-called western European countries. We used to attend these Mitel Sheles or high schools on an eight hour daily schedule on Saturdays and Sundays. I might  add that we were rounded in the history of our people, their philosophy and life in the world over. We spoke, read and wrote the language of our heroic brothers and sisters of the Warsaw Ghetto.

As to my parents'  background, they fled Russia during the pogroms following World War

I. They fled a country that can only be compared to present day South Africa. The Czarist regime practiced the same apartheid as Kissenger's Angolan ally. Jews could not own land. Secular education was almost unattainable. Moscow was off limits after dark. Each Jew had to carry papers marked "Yevrei" or Jew. This  was  the  polite express ion. The most used was "Jid'! or Sheeny. The most common saying was "beat Jiddy and save Russia."

To establish a life that was denied them in the old world, to live with people of varying political persuasions , but of the highest cultural background, to own land not for speculation, but to work it and harvest it, to be no longer "luft menshen", but productive to be able to call your neighbors brothers and sisters at community meetings or chaver or chaveret; these were the rewards of settling in Toms River.

In 1932 after we lived in Toms River for a year, some scornful landsmen asked my dad how much he made that year. When he gave them the five hundred dollar figure, they were dismayed . In reply, he said, "how much of a dollar value will you put on my twenty apple trees in blossom." You might ask, how we could survive on such a meager income.

My grandmother and I demolished an old barn for heat. In her seventies, she could swing an ax as well as Carrie Nation. I milked three cows before the school bus came. At ten cents a quart we made more on them, than on the two thousand chickens we had. We also had an acre garden.

Old Freehold Road in those days was called by the long time residents "Jerusalem Avenue" . Where the present golf course is situated was the biggest dairy farm in the area. When Mr. Mc Guire, the owner was on his death bed, he requested  that  his Jewish neighbors act as pall bearers. His reasoning I surmise was that the people who gave him his land would ease his way to heaven. We were looked upon with awe, tempered with curiosity.  In my high school graduating class there were only three Jews.

We had our amateur Yiddish theater. Bernie Sachs' Father played the lover of my teen aged sister. The efforts and the rewarding receptions given these Yiddish plays was a sheer joy to behold. We used to assemble on summer evenings near the Toms River Jewish Farmers' Community House. There was adjacent to it a refreshment stand run by the Golubchick family. Long before the days of car pools, when you could reach your neighbors on the party line, you would ask them if they needed a ride into town. You could not walk the length of a few houses without being called in for tea or a drink. When sickness hit our chickens,  it was the practice of a half dozen neighbors to come and help us vaccinate . To illustrate the morality of the times, Dr. Sawyer spoke in our community center on behalf of socialized medicine. Anytime he visited a family in need, he would forgo his fee and leave money on the table.

In closing, I can only sum up that in writing of the past, I am saddened by the present. Will our people live a moral life like the founders of our Jewish community? Will love of fellow Jews and mankind in general supercede the profit motive? Please understand that in writing of the past, I have not lost hope for the resumption  of the goals and aspirations of the founders of the communal Jewish life in Toms River.

Louis Polsky

A TRIBUTE TO ZALKIN SCHEIN

Historical tradition, although highly prejudicial,  had prevented  Jews from  owning  land. To establish a Jewish farming community in the central part of New Jersey, particularly in the Toms River area, proved to be a minor miracle.  It evolved gradually.  Jews from all walks of life, especially from the metropolitan area, gravitated towards Toms River, joining friends and relatives.

We arrived In 1932, when I was nine years old and my brother Davey was six. Life was primitive at that time. We had no means of transportation.  We  depended  upon neighbors and itinerant peddlers for all our needs. Our butcher, our grocer, our barber, all came to us. We had our own cut rate dry goods man who arrived monthly, which was cause for great celebration.

Each of us had a responsible part in the operation of the farm. Young as we were, we each had our share to do. Davey and I used to have contests as to who could grade the eggs faster. Imagine how gullible we were! The one who did it the fastest had the honor of grading all the eggs. I usually won, so I thought! And only because  I was older. But then Davey had to collect all the eggs. I hated to do that because the hens would always pick at my hands as I tried to remove the eggs from under them.

There was no automation at that time. We were fortunate that we had plumbing in the coops. At least the water was in each room. But we had to clean the fountains with a scrub brush; put the mash and grain under the hoppers; chase the birds up in the roosts; put the baby chicks under the hoovers at dusk; pull them out of the corners where they would push and shove in a suicidal attempt to  suffocate  themselves and each other; crawl into the shelters to grasp the chickens by the legs to put into crates and transport them into the coops. And how the chickens protested. They would peck at us, beat us with their wings, deafen us with their squawks. Then we had to chase them  off the trees, but instead of flying down, they would fly higher. This was an opportunity for Davey to test his marksmanship by throwing stones and branches until they flew down.

It was a hard life, as I said, but it was good, because we did everything together. The closeness of the family was never equaled. We had mutual trust and respect for one another, because we were all important cogs in the wheel, completely  dependent  on each other.

In the evenings, after supper, Daddy provided us with the basic rudiments of our Jewish education. It was during those formative years that I developed a love for our cultural heritage, which has remained with me until today. We did not get a formal Hebrew education until a shule was established In the Community Center with classes for children.

It was a great day in our lives when Daddy went for his citizenship papers. He had to go to Trenton.   It was July 10, 1936.  The whole farm was our responsibility.  How proud we were!  I was thirteen years old, and David was ten.  The temperature at that day rose to 102.

I came to the United States in 1922 to stay with relatives whom I never met before. was the only one of a large family who came to this country with the hopes of getting the rest of my family into the United States.  Of course, as a young girl, I had to work for a living.  And it wasn't too long before I met Marcus.  We were married in 1925 and we both worked.  Then unfortunately Marcus became ill and had to go into the hospital. So, of course our plans to bring the rest of my family here was out.

In the early 1930's Marcus was released from the hospital after a 3 1/2 year stay. He had pneumonia which developed into a serious lung condition. Returning to his profession of working in the shoe industry was not advised by the doctors because the dye of the leather was unhealthy for him. The doctors suggested that his new line of work be of an outdoor nature.

Throughout his illness, I was working as a sample maker for a manufacturer and tried to be the mainstay of our family life. This was not easy.

A friend of our's from Connecticut, who also had a chicken farm, suggested to Marcus that he speak to the people from the Jewish Agricultural Society for possible assistance in finding work that would be suitable to his new needs. Much discussion was held with these people. At first, they were not overly confident that we were suitable people to work on starting a farm. They thought we were too young and inexperienced in dealing with hard work . Only Marcus convinced the Agency that being young was an advantage to starting a farm.  He didn't want me to continue being the sole financial support.

During this part of our life, I became pregnant and again our life took another course. One must remember that my husband was not able to work at all during this time.

Finally he made the decision against the advice of many people, to start a chicken farm. This negative advice included family, the Jewish Agricultural Society, and sometimes me. As the result of his decision, eight acres of land were purchased in Toms River, New Jersey. In February of 1932, with borrowed money on our life Insurance policy, a small savings, and family loans, Marcus and I embarked to Toms River with our 5 month old son, Stanley. As was predicted by the Society, the hard work began.

The first building to be erected on this farm was naturally the chicken house which when completed, had the capacity to hold 1,200 chickens. This was built by a contractor, and Marcus finished building by himself all the extra equipment. With the ensuing years, he continued to add on many additions to this building. The first baby chicks arrived in March and April of that year.

During this time, the family lived next door in a rented room. Our house was being built and in June, although not completed, we decided to move in.

To supplement our income I took in two children as boarders. They stayed for two years and I also had weekend boarders. As you can tell, our life was a very difficult one. The farm was not a one man operation but the combined efforts of a husband and wife team.

In 1934 a representative from the Jewish Agricultural Society came to see us. He was amazed to see how we progressed in developing the farm. Through his changed opinion the Society granted us a loan.  We were  then able to enlarge the farm  and make improvements on our facilities.

Mr. & Mrs. Meyer Shenkin came to Toms River in May 1933. They wanted to be near the center of Toms River Jewish life, so they settled on the Old Freehold Road near the Jewish Community Center. They built a modern farm and home.  Mr. Shenkin believed in being active in the area where he lived. He left his other affiliations in New York City and became a very active member of the Jewish Community Center and its Religious affairs. He was influential in enlarging the religious activities of the Jewish Community Center.

It was through his efforts and knowledge that the Jewish Community Center started the first Jewish cemetery. This was in 1939. No longer was it necessary to take the dead to Lakewood or elsewhere.   The Chevra Kadisha and officers of the Community  met once a year at his home. Mrs. Shenkin always had a good dinner awaiting them. Everything was always done in a friendly, personal manner.

It was in March 1946 that the Religious arm of Community delivered a Torah from the home of Mr. & Mrs. Shenkin to the Community. This was done in the  Old  Country fashion and many people walked from his home to the Community building.

One month later on April 17, 1945 at the age of 69, Mr. Shenkin died, greatly missed by family and all the people in the area.

August 26 , 1937 was probably the one day in our lives that had more to do with shaping our future than any other.  It was the day we arrived In Toms River.

We had landed in America on June 1st of that year after leaving Nazi Germany. Even though we lived for four years under the Nazi yoke and had felt the Nazi sting on many occasions, my parents' foresight had saved us much grief, perhaps our lives.

Our intention had always been to settle on a farm rather than to stay in a city. My father, who had been an independent business man in Germany wanted to be independent here also, and farming seemed the answer.

We felt no qualms about leaving the village of Nussloch, Germany, where our family's ancestry can be traced back at least 500 years. Even though the vast majority of the villagers were decent farm folk and many of them begged us not to leave ("This Nazi thing will blow over and then it will be like old times" was their appeal to us), we were determined to go. One German man, who now lives in Toms River and whose name I am not at liberty to mention, risked his own life by building valuables into old furniture for us, as well as for many other Jews, to be transported out of Germany. Our family reciprocated by bringing him and his family to Toms River after the War.

We were the first refugee family to settle  in Toms River. Our first home was the old Eisen farm on Cedar Grove Road, which is now part of St. Joseph's Cemetery . Two years later we moved to the Maimone property on Old Freehold Road, which remained our permanent home.

Our experience on the farm was similar to that of so many other families. Work was so much more than we expected and income so much less (and no one had told us that chickens stop laying eggs and  sometimes even die), but we were free and our little family, my Father, Oskar, my Mother, Friedel, my Brother, Ralph,  and  I, Hans, was intact.

Our first local contacts were the Eisens', the Belyers', the Estomins', the Jurists', from all of whom we bought chickens, and Mr. Chrednov, who transported them for us in his Model A pickup. A true friend and loyal advisor to us from the beginning to his untimely demise was Al Kushinsky. Our command of the English language was quite poor and it was a comfort to have someone we could trust and relate to in the handling of our legal matters. Ben Novins, Jerry Samuelson, Jack Baer, Max Horowitz and many others did much to help us feel secure and at home in our new environment.

In November 1937, my Uncle Ferdinand and his family, and my maternal Uncle Gus Mayer joined us, to be followed in June 1938 by my Aunt Mina and Grandmother Helene.

The following families from Germany joined us in Toms River thereafter: the families of Henry Richbeimer; Moritz Oppenheimer; Hugo Lowenthal; Theo Pfalzer; Ernst Guenzburger;  Adolph  Plaut;  Julius  Weil;  Siegfried  Mayer;  Fred  Rothschild;  Heinrich Friedman; Max Heuman; Louie Reiss; Julius Maier; Hugo Grumbach; Bertha Guenzburger; Malchen Richheimer; Eric May; Max May; Emil Frankenberg; Gustav Grumbach; Luitpold Landman; Hugo Frankenberg; Kurt Rosenthal; Arthur Greenbaum; Henry Greenbaum; Alfred Bettauer; Isadore Rosenthal; Herman Rosenthal; William Sondheim; Theo Wertheimer; Harry Heit; Simon Rau; Berthold Strauss; Ludwig Goldsmidt; Max Kahn; Max Weil; Arnold Lehman; Sidney Wyman; Ludwig Kurzman; Gustav Wasserman; Paul Beitman; Herman Hiller and Gustav Lubin. If I have omitted anyone it was purely unintentional as I have relied solely an my own memory.

Like any beginning, it was not easy for these immigrant families to integrate into the local Jewish community . I remember Friday night, Shabbat, and High Holy Day services being held in the basement of the Richheimer residence on Old Freehold Road with Sifrei Torah salvaged from the Synagogue in Nussloch. Simon Rau, Moritz Oppenheimer, Adolph Plaut and others shared the "davening". The Sifrei Torah were later donated to the Toms River Jewish Community Center, Congregation B'nai Israel and Congregation Ahavat Shalom in Lakewood. The same basement also served often for gatherings and parties, but the shyness soon wore off and the new arrivals integrated with the earlier settlers. I also recall a big barbeque party on our farm given for the recent immigrants by Izzy Hirschblond , who like so many others did so much to make us feel at home.

For youngsters like my brother and I, the English language came so much easier than for our parents. We weren't in Toms River for more than two weeks when school started for us. Even though we had very little English background, after a few weeks in school we became quite "Americanized". Among my school mates were Mildred (Pyenson) Robinson; Irene Rosenberg; Philip Horowitz; Rebecca Breslau; Herman Jurist; Alton Estomin; Julius Haberman; Rubin Karol; Harry Weiss; Anna Kayer and Cora Oigenstein.

Our family, like so many others, had simchas and tragedies . In May, 1940 my youngest brother, Charles, was born. The first baby born to a refugee family (Dr. Sawyer called him "Columbus"), and just a few weeks later my Father passed away suddenly. This tragedy had a profound effect on our family. After the initial shock had subsided we took stock of our position, emotionally as well as financially. Our options were to flee to the city and try our luck there or to stick it out here on the farm. We decided on the latter course. Years of sacrifice and hard work lay ahead for all of us; but perseverance and togetherness , which only upbringing and love of family can bring, saw us through and brought us to our present position.

Hans Ehrmann

It seems odd that by now I am an old timer in this area and would be asked to write how I found things in Ocean County at the end of the thirties, and what made me come here in the first place.  I really don't feel like an old timer.

I first visited Toms River on my way to my American relatives in Chicago after my cousin Margot Pfaelzer, now Mayer, and I arrived in this country. Actually we had stopped here to visit various relatives and acquaintances of our parents, also victims of the Nazi persecution in Germany. We were to explore the possibility of our parents settling here on a chicken farm when they were able to leave Germany in a year or so. Our parents had the foresight to see that sooner or later war would break out, and they wanted their children to get out before it was too late. We had already sweated out the "Anschluss" and the crises over the Sudetenland.

As it was, I came to this country against my wishes. In my youthful enthusiasm , I wanted to go to Palestine more than anything else. However, in those days long ago, children listened to their parents, especially when the parents feared they could not earn a livelihood at their age in Palestine. Economic conditions were not rosy there in those days either.

For two years before leaving Germany, I had training at cabinet making in a trade school organized by the Jewish community of Mannheim. With my background,  I was able to find work in a Chicago furniture factory. I had to do production work which  I hated. When our parents jo ined us the following year, and could not find work , it was easy for us to decide to move back east to try to make a living on a chicken farm. My uncle did the scouting around for a suitable farm and he found a place containing 13 acres of land, some neglected chicken coops and two residences not much better. The layout seemed perfect for two families with limited means. The price tag was $7,000. which we were able to swing with the help of one of our rich relatives.

We arrived here in the summer of 1939 and got busy making the buildings fit for human habitation. The purchase of several hundred chickens put us into the egg business. If you think the idea of having to care for hundreds of live creatures was scary, you are right. What helped the beginners was a vast amount of free advice, both good and bad, available from fellow farmers . Also in the early days, one could not afford help. We helped each other out when the task required more than one family's man and woman power. For instance, we and the Plauts always helped each other when the big round up for housing chickens came in the fall.  We actually had fun doing that.

I remember we spent the first fall and winter pulling thousands of nails from second hand boards. We used the boards for building brooder houses in which we would  raise our own baby chicks the following spring.

Life was quite primitive. I remember for instance, we had hot water only Friday afternoons when we lit our little coal hot water heater. We did not spend much money for groceries.  Chicken and eggs were the main ingredients of our diet.  My mother grew all our vegetables and was proud of the money she took in from the sale of the surplus. Pleasures were simple. Services were available in the Jewish Community House only on holidays. On the other hand, on Shabbat the only work we did was feeding the chickens and collecting eggs, which had to be done.

My husband and I with our two year old son arrived in New York City on Erev Rosh Hashanah, 1938. We stayed with my husband's sister and brother-in-law for the next few weeks while my husband spent time looking for work, any kind of work. We had known in advance that he would have to make a new start. He had been  in the wholesale hardware business in Germany. I had completed three semesters of medical school before marriage, but now with a small child and my husband's spirits sagging, I thought it wisest for the time being to give moral support and help to follow all the leads that might enable us to get a new start. I even went to Providence Rhode Island by bus, and naturally had to take my little boy along. Our good friends there had no trouble finding work. There were only a few refugee families there and you had your choice of a job.

We returned to New York in good spirits, but as we disembarked from the  bus,  I bubbling with the good news of our move, choice of jobs. My husband gave me a letter from our old friends from Heidelberg, the Ehrmanns. They had, after much traveling around, bought a chicken farm in Toms River. They were very happy and wanted us to visit them soon.

The following Sunday, we took the bus to Toms River. Our friends had a house to themselves (we had never lived in an apartment prior to coming to the United States, and never in a large city). There was fresh air and grounds for a child to play in and peace and quiet. The chickens and the chicken coops (the business part) discussion  I left to my husband and the men in the Ehrmann family. I noticed my husband's changed spirits. He started figuring, could we swing a business like that financially. This was the foremost point to consider. I was all in favor, house and business were together. We could share the work.  All three of us would find a job with our stroke of luck, and we did!

Then came the time of looking for a farm. It had to be in Toms River. There were a few refugee farmers living there already, more had moved there in the 20's and early 30's. They were all helpful with advice. Everybody knew of someone who wanted to sell and they knew the real value of the properties. We walked through town and  were introduced to the Jewish merchants. They told us how they happened to move to Toms River. They had founded the Jewish Community Center. We had found a new home, ours to which we could bring both our parents who were still in Germany waiting for affidavits. Well, we bought a farm with the financial and practical support and advice of the Jewish Agricultural Society. By this time (early 1939) there was a real avalanche of Jewish families (German refugees, people who had reached the United States after the first World War from Eastern Europe as well as American born younger and older people who had saved up some money and wanted a healthier, better life). Many, like most of us who had fled Germany, had originally tried to get to Eretz Israel, but in our time the English, in order to appease the Arabs, gave out less and less certificates for immigration.  So, we personally had taken second best and settled in the country side on a chicken farm.  I suspect strongly, we would have done the same thing if we had gone to Palestine.

I was born in Sirkova, a small Bessarabian village in Romania in the 1890's. The village had a Jewish population of about twenty families who earned their livelihood raising tobacco on land rented from the peasants . As a boy I worked in the tobacco fields during the summers and attended school in the winters. In 1914 I was conscripted into the Russian army, and shortly after had the opportunity to emigrate to Canada & Manitoba Province, where some members of my family had already settled.

After improving my English, I entered the University of Manitoba and finished two years at the College of Agriculture in Winnipeg . Farming has always been an  attractive vocation too as I enjoyed being close to nature and had a dream of working for my family and myself on my own farm.

In 1925 my wife, Pearl and I were married and came to the United States. We lived in New York City where Billey, our daughter, and Yosi, our son, were  born.  As  the economic crisis deepened it became difficult to retain work. Our family lived through many hardships as those were extremely difficult times for all people. After a prolonged period of unemployment, we took the advice and help of our friends to relocate in New Jersey. I became a vegetable man bringing fruit and vegetables in an old truck to the farmers around Lakewood, Toms River and Farmingdale. In 1938 on my wife's initiative, we rented an old chicken farm near Maxim Station in Farmingdale to  discover if the farming life was feasible for our family. The first spring Pearl ordered 300 baby chicks and took care of them while I continued the vegetable route and helped as much as  I could at night. Our first chicks grew and, became layers and on the basis of our success we began to look for a farm to purchase for ourselves.

In 1939, with the assistance of our Toms River friends Belyev, Dardick, Morris Latterman and the Brafmans, a 32 acre property was found on White Oak Bottom Road, and each of these friends lent us a sum of money  to meet the down payment required. We refurbished an old chicken coop on the property, moved ourselves and our stock, and became members of the Community of Jewish Farmers. In those days a newcomer was warmly welcomed into the community. There was no limit to the friendliness and assistance that was extended to help us become established. One man came to teach us how to vaccinate, another to cull, a third assisted in putting together the poultry equipment. Many an evening was spent discussing the layout of the brooder houses and the field rotation, the placement and design of the new chicken coops, and the best way to furnish them. Chudnov came bringing bulbs and flowers and to inspect the chickens and advise, and planted nut trees and red poppies in our yard which are still bearing. In the first year the Jewish Agricultural Society gave us a substantial  loan which we used to erect the first new buildings .

We eagerly joined in the activities of the Jewish Center on Old Freehold Road, which was the center of cultural and social life for both the farmers and the Jewish townspeople from Toms River. The children were enrolled in a Yiddish school and attended classes in Yiddish Saturday and Sunday mornings.  A teacher commuted from New York City and with the children planned and put on plays and activities during the Jewish holidays which the entire community attended and enjoyed. There were no baby sitters at that time, and whole families participated in the social activities. All the children were known individually and their progress noted. The Yiddish plays and speakers that came to the center, as Jewish organizations of all kinds multiplied, were a welcome relief to the nights spent in the egg cellar cleaning by hand with a little sandpaper buffer, 20 pails of eggs each and then weighing, sorting and packing them in cases to be shipped.

It was a pleasant surprise to receive a letter from the Council of Jewish Organizations who are sponsoring a Jewish History Week.

After being away from Toms River for ten years, it is difficult to recall the many events that rotated around the community.  I Wish I had kept a log of the events and the growth of all the organizations that met in the community.

However, I am aware that many years before we came to the area such families as the Krushinskys', Novins',  Wexlers,  Newtons',  Dardicks',  Baers',  Kassenoffs,' Rosenkrantzs', Belyers', Breslaws' and Pincus' were already giving their support to the community.

When Ben and  I decided to sell our retail business in Brooklyn, NY, Ben had spent a weekend with the Polishuks on their farm on Old Freehold Road and was so enthused with living in the country not too far away from New York. We wanted a quieter life than the hassle of city life. This was the latter part of 1941. We were also encouraged to make the move by our friends, Hannah and Lou Wallach. We purchased the old Reutter farm on Todd Road and our nearest neighbors, the M. Meyers, the Weiss family and the Shenkins', made us feel at home as soon as we got settled. It was hard work in those days to build up a capacity of chickens . After three and a half years on Todd Road, we bought Julius Zwickel's farm on Bay Avenue.

It Is gratifying to see that the Religious Group is still existing and Ben and I were always part of this group. Also it is still under the leadership of Jack Fleischman, with the help of Mrs. Norma Zwickel, and a good many of the old-timers.

I also wish to mention that a credit union was organized, especially helpful to the farmers in the area, under the capable leadership of Mr. Belyer, Jack Goldstein, Irwin Kramer, M. Rosenkrantz, Hannah Sherry and many more. Ben also served for several years as a president of this credit union.

My recollection of the Ladies' Auxiliary in the 40's and 50's was the great job some of the members were doing. Among the very many were Ida Dardich, Hilda Baer, Hannah Wallach, Lillian Krushinsky, Pearl Zeitz, Ethel Novins, Evelyn Weiss, Sophie Meyers, Lillian Whynman, Josephine Feldman, Greta Friedman,  Ida Cherry,  Frances  Kramer, Ann Hecker, Ann Cohen, Helen Oliver, Jean Kassenoff. Most of the women served as presidents , some as other officers, but all were hard workers for the Auxiliary. I, too, held offices and was president for several years.

I recall an outstanding event; a bazaar sponsored by the various Jewish organizations, namely, The Pioneer Women, Hadassah, Emma Lazarus Club, Ladies' Auxiliary and the Community Center. This affair was a huge success, both financially and socially. In those days everyone was like one big family and all the social  life rotated around the Community Center.

Very  interesting  book  reviews were  given  by  Mr. Aaron  Pincus, who  also  served  as Recording Secretary for a great many years, and his reports were always rendered in Yiddish . The Jewish National Fund and the U.J.A. appeal evenings were held yearly In the Community Center under the capable leadership of Mr. and Mrs. N. Breslau, assisted by Bob Novins, Jack Fleischman , Jack Baer, Irving Kantor, and many other fine members of the Community. A large number of Community members who worked on these projects were honored with presentations of plaques  and  Golden  Book Certificates. Many fine artists and concerts were arranged for these evenings. We too, were presented with a J.N.F. Golden Book Certificate by the Community and we prize it most highly.

Another wonderful  organization was created and should not go unnoticed; the Leonard Baer Day Camp and Pool. This was made possible by Hannah Sherry, Mildred Robinson, Bea Epstein, Rose Fleischman, Lillian Whynman,  Mesdames  Pushkin, Bobroff, and many others who helped with the Camp every summer.

The Ehrmann family have always been community minded and we take this opportunity to congratulate Hans Ehrmann, the newly installed President, and his officers and wish them a very successful term.  I wish to comment on the fine bulletins now being sent by the Community Center. We find them very interesting and informative on the events taking place.

When we visited Toms River four years ago we noted a change in the Pleasant Plains and surrounding area with the growth of schools, residential neighborhoods, etc. Progress must go on, but there is a certain nostalgia for the loss of "country" to a larger city. The friendships that existed in the old days among the farmers and professional people one can only have in a small community. We made many friends with whom we still keep in touch since we left the area.

We trust that the new families who have moved  to the Toms River area and  have become members of the Community Center will help to carry on the good work.

If I have left out a good many names of the old timers , it was not done intentionally.

In closing, I wish to say, were I closer to you all today , I would, if possible, still try to help in any way. Hopefully, we look forward to visiting our many friends and neighbors in the near future.

Sincere greetings to all.

Kitty and Benjamin Leichtling

We came to the Lakewood - Toms River Area to become poultry farmers in 1941. The economic conditions in New York at that time were such that many people were forced to look for new means of earning a livelihood.  We chose to try our hand at farming.

Life on the farm was hard. It meant working seven days a week from early morning until late at night. We had to pump water for the chickens and for the house by hand. We had to use coal and wood for heating and cooking.

Those were times of hard work. But the hard work was satisfying because we came to the farm with dreams of building a better life for ourselves without worries for the future.

The beauty of our natural surroundings and landscape gave us strength and courage to continue with the hard  work. Our very friendly neighbors helped  us with  work  and advice.

A great deal of help came from the credit union and the buying and selling cooperatives that were started by poultrymen who had established themselves in the 1920's and 1930's.

The Toms River Jewish Farmers Community Center, as it was known then, became the home of the Jewish farmers. It filled the religious, cultural and social  needs  of  the Jewish Farmers. They brought their joys and sorrows to the Center and shared them with their friends and neighbor.

In the late 1950's and early 1960's, the poultry industry, as we knew it would, began to go downhill. The small farmers were squeezed out by the manipulations of the big cooperatives. From then on, low prices for eggs and high prices for feed became the rule instead of the exemption. Many small farmers lost their farms. The only way to hold on was by the wife and children operating the farm and the husband going out to work off the farm to augment their income.

Before we left Toms River, many of the green fields and woods were turned into housing developments where city folks settled and turned Toms River into a big city. We prefer to remember Toms River as it was years ago, instead of as it is today.

We want to wish the present leadership of the Toms River Jewish Community Center, success in their efforts to keep the organization alive and build a healthy Jewish life in the area.

Nathan and Fannie Steinberg

A short story of the Maketansky & Whynmans Exodus from New York City to Toms River

It all started in March of 1946. My brother-in-law Irv Whynman took me for a drive to visit his mother, Anne Demain, who had a farm with her husband Joe on Route 9 next door to the Estomins Midway Farm. I could probably write a book about how the Maketanskys and Estomins were neighbors in the Bronx. All I can say is that we lived on the same landing and it was like one big apartment. We were with the Estomins and they were with us.  It was great.

After our visit to Toms River it only took a very short conference with Irv to decide to look around for our own farm. It only took two visits until we found the Polsky place on Old Freehold Road.

Our families came out for a look and we moved in May 1946. Not only were  we greenhorns to the country, but also to the whole aspect of chicken farming. Needless to say, we had to succeed because every dime we owned was now in the chicken farm.

It came as one heck of a shock to learn that the entire stock of chickens we had bought was infected with Newcastle disease. In order to compensate for the loss of income, Lil, Irv, Annie and Hymie decided to take in boarders for the summer. Annie was a great cook and we had no trouble finding people.

I must mention one story about my mother Annie. As I said, she was an excellent cook. She could prepare chicken and eggs a different way for every day of the year. Well, one Friday night we sat down to supper and our first course was Gefilte Fish. Not only was it a great change from chicken and eggs, it was delicious. We all loved it! Only later did we find out from Lil and Mom that our "gefilte fish" was made from ground-up chicken, not fish.

Getting back to farm life, learning comes fast when your whole existence depends on it. We were extremely fortunate that our families had, and still have, an abundance of love for each other. We all worked hard, long hours meant nothing. The women and boys were right in the coops with the men. The egg room was located in the basement, and of course nothing was automatic in those days.

When you're young like my brother Mel, and I were, life is a beautiful thing. We hardly had a care in the world. As for the struggle of feed bills, mortgage payments and the like, they were the problems of the older folks. The family loans and the  chattel mortgages were their worries. The challenge  was constant,  the struggle was  difficult and the time it took to overcome the perils of foreclosure was long.  Now, as I look back, it was a rough time. Time has a way of returning your just rewards for the efforts put forth and happily I can say that today, not one of us regrets the purchase of the farm.

I remember the weddings and the anniversaries, the Bar Mitzvahs, the births, the Passover Seders, the graduations and the visits to "the country" by our relatives from New York. I remember the vaccination crews and the courses on poultry farming given in Freehold to veterans.   I also remember   the wonderful friends we had.

The Podolsky family, Sam, Ida, their children Regina and Bernie, arrived in Toms River from NYC in March 1944, with the last snow of the season. The third and oldest child Odif, was already married and living elsewhere.

Being co-operative in spirit and idealistic, they were active in all the farm co-operatives of that period; FEPCO, White Oak and FLF. It was quite common and  economically necessary for one or more family members to seek work off the farm. Such was Sam's situation. He commuted to NYC and Lakewood, working at his former trade of clothing presser.

The Podolsky family participated, as Ida does today, in the Community and cultural life of the Community. Ida, an original organizer of the Jewish  Farmers'  Chorus,  is still active and a devoted member.

Regina married Jack Pyenson, a member of an early farm family. She has three sons, one of whom is married. Bernie attended Toms River high school, is married and has 4 children. Today, Odif, Regina and Bernie visit their mother Ida, who still resides in the original farm home on Cedar Grove Road.