1/3/99
Memories
of Idl
They
laughed
at Idl's
funeral.
"Did
you hear
the one
about Idl
and the
'bathroom
clerk'?
He went
into Jerusalem
and he had
to use the
bathroom.
So he went
to the bus
station,
and a man
said he
had to pay
a shekel.
He was amazed:
'I have
to pay to
pee?!' He
said to
the man,
'I only
need a minute.
But if you
come to
me, to Kiryat
Anavim,
I'll give
you something
to eat,
I'll show
you around,
you can
pee, it'll
cost you
nothing.'
The man
let him
in."
When
Idl died
a month
ago, all
the Idl
stories
came out,
and in death
as in life,
he had 'em
chuckling.
"With
Idl, you
could never
tell. At
times, he'd
be talking
seriously,
but laughing
inside.
Or he would
tell you
a serious
story, but
laughing."
Yehuda
"Idl"
Ben-Avraham
(1899-1999)
died five
months short
of his 100th
birthday.
With his
demise ends
a remarkable
era: he
was the
last of
the founding
generation
of Kibbutz
Kiryat Anavim.
The first
settlers,
including
his two
older brothers,
were an
organic
group of
25 pioneers
who came
en masse
in the early
'20s --
all from
the environs
of a Ukrainian
shtetl,
Zhvanitz.
By
the time
of his death
he was a
curious
archeological
relic in
a community
far removed
from its
origins.
Not a single
member of
the Ben-Avraham
family remains
on Kiryat
Anavim;
none of
the crops
the pioneers
established
are still
grown there
-- not even
grapes,
which gave
the kibbutz
its name.
IDL
HAD 10 siblings:
one was
slaughtered
in infancy
by an intruder
while suckling
her mother's
breast;
another
died young;
of the remaining
eight, one
lived in
Cheyenne,
Wyoming,
to the age
of 103,
and the
rest came
here during
the Third
Aliya, following
World War
I. One brother
lived to
94; two
sisters,
85 and 95,
are still
alive.
Idl
was said
to be the
only one
of the family
with a sense
of humor
(he was
also the
only one
with blue
eyes, if
that means
anything).
His brothers
Yossi and
Yitzhak
were ideologically
zealous,
and dismissive
of the more
quixotic
Idl: he
was ...
different,
which, given
the prevailing
attitudes,
was unforgivable.
"Yossi
was the
'finance
minister,'
and he ruled
over Kiryat
Anavim with
an iron
fist: he
controled
the money,
the people
-- and even
the time.
In the early
days, it
was felt
that no
one should
own anything
that others
didn't have.
Now, Yossi
had a watch.
Others wanted
one too,
and they
confronted
Yossi. 'What
do you need
a watch
for?' he
would answer;
'If you
need to
know the
time, just
ask me.'
"
The
youngest
of the founding
halutzim
(pioneers),
Idl was
shunted
aside, in
Kiryat Anavim
just as
in Zhvanitz.
His revenge
was to outlive
them all,
but there
was a sad
irony: he
spent most
of his life
at the kibbutz
a loner,
either because
he was too
young, or
too old.
In
the waning
years, however,
no longer
repressed
by his domineering
brothers,
Idl developed
a following
of younger
people grooving
on his folk
wisdom,
humor, good
nature and
colorful
memories.
"When
he was 80,
Idl decided
to be a
strudel
baker. In
that way,
he always
had company.
People would
come, sit
with him,
have a cup
of tea and
a strudel."
Idl
loved labor,
and he had
his hand
in everything,
from cleaning
sewers to
making jam.
From 1921
to 1926
he lived
in the north,
making gravel
or clearing
swamps.
He spent
73 years
on Kiryat
Anavim in
the Jerusalem
Corridor,
but he was
always a
Zhvanitzer.
"A
month before
he died,
I took a
picture
of him.
I had a
fancy camera,
with a remote
control.
Idl said,
'Y'know,
not even
in Zhvanitz
was there
such a camera
like this!'"
"Idl
predicted
the end
of the kibbutz
movement
in the 1970s.
Then, he
was working
in construction.
A couple
asked for
a particular
color of
tile for
the bathroom
he was building
them, and
he said,
'This is
the end.
When people
can choose
bathroom
tiles, phht,
the kibbutz
is a goner.'"
"It
was sometime
in the '40s,
he went
into town
to hear
a lecture,
and he had
to pay a
piastre.
It was no
money, but
of course
he didn't
have it,
because
he wasn't
allowed
pocket money.
So a stranger
loaned him
a piastre.
And I tell
you, to
his dying
day he felt
bad he never
repaid the
man."
"Oh,
he was a
shovav
(mischievous).
He got involved
in everything.
There was
a story
he told
me, about
60 years
ago: he
was in Tel
Aviv, and
he had no
money for
a bus back
home. It
so happened
that there
were floods
that day,
and people
couldn't
cross the
street.
So Idl,
he quickly
got some
boards and
laid them
across the
street,
and he stood
at one end,
and collected
a toll."
"Idl
hated milking
the cows.
One day
he milked
one, made
cocoa, sat
and waited.
Sure enough,
two men
came by,
and they
wanted cocoa.
'Milk the
cows,' Idl
told them,
'and I'll
make you
a cocoa.'
Y'see, Idl
was the
first kibbutz
capitalist."
When
he was nearing
the end
-- well,
that's what
people thought
a decade
ago, when
he hit 90
-- microphones
and video
cameras
began to
appear before
him, collecting
his memories.
"How
long can
a person
live?"
he asked
in 1989.
As it turned
out, a lot
more.
A
recording
stored at
the archive
of Kiryat
Anavim captures
him at his
best. Still
speaking
in a quaint,
archaic,
Ashkenazic-Russian
accent,
Idl gave
his younger
admirers
something
to treasure.
"We
were young,
and lonely;
you know
how it is,
we were
clearing
the swamps
and we wanted
a little
company.
Some of
the girls
were more
pretty,
some were
less pretty.
Not that
I was so
good-looking.
Anyway,
I was walking
with a girl,
I forget
who by now.
Suddenly
I feel a
hand on
my shoulder.
Some fellow
from the
Second Aliya.
And he pushes
me aside,
and continues
on with
the girl."
Poor Idl.
He was only
from the
Third Aliya,
lower on
the pecking
order. Why
didn't he
stand up
for himself?
"I
was not
one of the
brave ones,"
he admitted.
Idl was
afraid of
death, he
recently
told a 69-year-old
nephew,
who tried
to reassure
him.
"Look,"
Idl retorted,
"When
you get
to my age,
and you
know what
you're talking
about, we'll
discuss
it again."