Born: 1 May 1880 in Porosobe, Volkovysk district, Grodno Province, Russian Empire, nowadays Porazava in Belarus
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- Arthur Jacob Helfet 1907 - 1989
- Cyril Bernard Helfet 1908 - 1989
- Arnold Helfet 1911 - 1983
- Gertrude Leila (Girlie) 1914 - 1992
- Miriam Pearl Helfet 1915 - 1923
- Herzl Theodore Helfet 1920 - 2002
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Dec 6th 1914
Dearest Hannah [Levin]
Am sending you, at last, a photo of my little family. Only regret that my dear hubby is not with us, but as there is such a good photographer here, it was an opportunity not to be missed, especially as I wanted to introduce you to my darling little girlie. She is very tiny here but T.G. she is really a splendid child for her age.
Baba is in his favourite cadet attitude. It is too bad that he is not smiling, for smile come far more natural to him than seriousness in fact nit was quite an effort for him to keep his face straight and you will see in Esther’s that the smile is nearly bursting through. Hope you like our little group.
Sincerely trust all is well with you all.
Do write, dear, am longing to hear from you again.
With ever fond love from us all to you and your loving sister. Sara
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An extract from one of her notebooks.jpg)
Cape Town online cemetery burial record for Sarah Helfet. Her given date of death is incorrect
Hebrew translation: The crown of her husband and glory of her children Sarah Chana, daughter of Yaakov, died 21 Kislev 5714. May her soul be bound up in the bond of (eternal) life.
According to local tradition, Jews settled in Porozow in the 16th century; however, there are no written documents to support this. In 1847, the census recorded 379 Jews, most of them living off agriculture from leased lands. After the reforms of Czar Alexander II in 1862 they purchased the land from the farmers and estate owners. They lived on four main streets and a few alleys that branched off from them. Their numbers grew steadily and in 1897 they were enumerated as 931 souls -- 46% of the population -- and in addition to farmers they were merchants, store owners, peddlers and a few craftsmen.
Most of the farmers' sons left the family properties that were inherited by only one son in order to prevent splitting the fields, and they took up occupations like trading and crafts. Jews and non-Jews in Porozow and its surroundings lived in harmony amongst themselves and with their neighbors, including the Belorussian farmers.
The Jews of Porozow had strong ties with the Jews of Volkovysk. They traded amongst themselves and Porozow’s youth continued their studies in Volkovysk. When needed, they shared rabbis with Volkovysk. Up to World War I, we know of Rabbi Yitzhak Hever, his son Rabbi Yosev Hever, Rabbi Baruch Avraham Mirski (1872), Rabbi Shlomo Ha Levi Feinzilber and Rabbi Aharon David Kosofski (1906). The children in the community studied in a traditional cheder. At the end of the 19th century, two Beitei Midrash -- houses of religious study -- and one bath house were built.
In 1878, Porozow was a town of 300 households, consisting of 699 men and 755 women. Included in those numbers were 556 Jews. People of three faiths lived in the town; there were also Russian Orthodox and Catholics, and each group had its own house of worship. The gentiles in Porozow were involved mainly in pottery production; the Jews favoured trade.
With the outbreak of World War I, Jews were drafted into the Czar's army and families were left without providers. In the fall of 1915, Germany conquered Porozow and controlled it until the end of 1918. The Germans drafted many citizens for forced labor, e.g., for road and base construction and other hard work. The dispossessed suffered from hunger and want, since the local economy was paralyzed. All the town’s children, without regard to nationality or religion, were forced to study in the German school and in the German language. For the Jewish children, two hours per week were allotted for Hebrew and religious studies.
At the end of the war, the Jews returned and rebuilt their businesses. Initially, life in Porozow returned to normal. But very soon all realized that their economic status had worsened in comparison to what it had been before the war. Poland faced an economic crisis with the loss of important export markets in Russia after the border with the Soviet Union was closed.
After the war, most of the tax burden was placed on the independent business sector - i.e., the Jewish mercantile sector. At the same time, Jews were sidelined from the market at the hands of Polish cooperatives established with government support and given favorable financial conditions. Jewish craftsmen lost clients to these cooperatives and to craftsmen who appeared in the villages after the war, and those Jews who weren't conversant in Polish had difficulties and were disadvantaged when the government imposed many regulations on them. Due to the economic distress and dispossession, emigration overseas increased and the community dwindled in size.
Also, between both World Wars, as in previous years, Porozow maintained its religious character and community life centered around the synagogue and the Beitei Midrash, the religious study institutions. The community rabbi in 1929 was Rabbi Eliezer Harkavy. The young generation, in contrast to the adults, abandoned religion and embraced Zionism. In the mid 1920s, a Halutz branch was founded and young people left for communal training. A few emigrated to Palestine.
The beginning of the end of the Jews of Porozow came with the Nazi invasion of Belarus in 1941. Control of Porozow and the surrounding area passed back and forth between the Russian and German armies, but eventually the Germans prevailed. In 1942 a ghetto was created, and by November of that year the entire Jewish population of the town was marched to Wolkowysk, though a small group was shot in the forest. Between November 10 - December 15, 1942, most were transported by train to Treblinka, where they perished.
by his son, Arnold Helfet
Chapter
1
He was a small stocky man with a heart of gold and
respected and loved by all. One of the early business (and later also farmer)
pioneers in the North Western districts of the then Cape Colony, his name and
memory were stamped into the history of Calvinia and its enormous district.
I have chosen him to be the chief protagonist in this
story as I knew him better than any of the others. He was my father.
Leon Helfet was born in the shtetl Chernuck, Poltava
in the Ukraine on June 6th, 1879. Within the first eighteen years of his life,
his saga took him from the Ukraine to Liverpool, England at the age of 13, to
Cape Town 5 years later in 1897 and then to Worcester, Ceres and finally to
another shtetl or “dorp”, Calvinia shortly after his nineteenth birthday. And
he dwelt in Calvinia for most of the rest of his life.
To begin at the beginning. Chernuck was a small town
with a proportionately large Jewish community. Leon’s father, Jacob, was an
impressive man with a strong black beard trimmed to beneath his adam’s apple as
was the fashion. He was a man of standing in the very religious Jewish
community as he owned an essential institution, the main kosher butchery. Like
many others of his generation and faith he was also a man of learning.
His beautiful wife, Leah, bore him a large family
comprising six daughters and two sons, of whom Leon was the elder. And, as the
government school systems in Russia and her satellite countries were restricted
against Jews, the two boys attended the congregational religious school, the
Yeshiva. The girls received their education at home through private teachers.
At school they studied the Old Testament, the Torah,
the Talmud and all the daily and festival prayers, all of which were taught
exclusively in Hebrew. Classes commenced at 8 o’clock in the morning in the
pitch dark for more than half of the year, and ended also in the dark as late
as 9 in the evenings. Commencing school at the age of five, Leon and brother
Harry were very educated young men by the time they reached their Bar Mitzvas
(confirmations) at the age of thirteen.
Years later his intimate knowledge of the Bible and
the fact that he was a Man of the Book, brought him profound admiration and
respect from his Afrikaner friends, most of whom were boere (farmers).
In the early 1890’s, renewed anti-Jewish pogroms once
again made life intolerable and hence, those families who could afford to “buy”
exit visas from corrupt bureaucrats emigrated mainly to England and America in
the hope of starting new lives in the freedom offered by the West. As they were
obliged to leave behind all but carriable possessions, their new lives
commenced with little or no available capital. Thus after the boys attained
their Bar Mitzvas but were still too young to be drafted into the hated army,
Jacob Helfet arranged for his family to emigrate to England.
The first stage of what was to be nearly a month-long
uncomfortable, hungry and exhausting journey in a covered wagon drawn by horses
which took them across the Polish border. Thereafter they travelled on slow,
crowded trains to the coast of Germany. The last lap on an even more crowded
and unsavoury ship took them finally to Liverpool in Lancashire, England.
There the already settled English Jewish communities,
in collaboration with committees which included earlier immigrants, welcomed
the new arrivals. They assisted the bewildered newcomers to find accommodation,
jobs where possible or to start small businesses. Also, where and how to learn
to read and speak English. In essence, they were taught how to discard the
unhappiness of Russian oppression of their previous lives and to establish a
new existence under the hospitable Union Jack.
The new life was far from easy. In fact it took a few
years before the Helfet family was reasonably comfortably established. With
financial assistance from the Liverpool Jewish committee, Jacob opened a
business for which he had had years of experience, a Kosher butchery, in an
area inhabited by many of the orthodox immigrants. He was obliged to trade with
great caution as he had to pay cash for his meat supplies, while supplying his
struggling customers on credit. Some paid weekly, some monthly, and some just
could not pay at all. And enough money had to be earned by the business to
provide for the needs of his large family.
After a few moves from very cramped accommodation to
slightly better and still better until eventually the family moved to a
suitable house which they could afford. The six young daughters assisted in the
home and attended school and extra English classes. The boys worked in their
father’s business and on weekends earned extra pittances by doing
house-to-house collections of weekly payments for small merchants.
They too, were naturally eager to learn English the
lack of which frustrated them during their early Liverpool years. Leon joined
an evening class where very young “pupil teachers” from a Jewish public school
gained their early professional experience. And fate decreed happily for him
that he had enrolled in a class which not only made him proficient in English,
but was instrumental in providing him with a charming and beautiful wife who
became his life-long partner. This romance was triggered by his admiration and
respect for the young teacher, Sara Levin, who, though not yet sixteen, was
very beautiful, talented and who spoke and wrote English like a post-graduate
college scholar.
Attending her classes on four nights a week for nearly
two years, Leon’s feelings for her changed from admiration to love. She in
turn, found him to be an excellent student, friendly and gentle. After he had
plucked up the courage to invite her for meetings, walks and inevitably to meet
his family, Sara found herself returning his love and affection. Leon, like his
classmates and other friends, all aspired almost desperately to acquire the
mannerisms, culture, lifestyles and dreams of their settled Anglicised
acquaintances.
It was in his seventeenth year that this budding young
lover found himself faced with circumstances that required the making of
momentous decisions. The first was to propose betrothal to beautiful Sara, and
he prayed, to be accepted. The next was where could they settle and establish a
home if she agreed to become his wife.
Conditions in Liverpool in the 1890’s were depressed
and future prospects even more depressing. Five of his sisters and brother
Harry had decided to apply for emigration to America. but for two “good”
reasons Leon decided to seek his fortune in South Africa. Firstly, the
steamship ticket to Cape Town was cheaper than to New York, and could be
obtained weekly, while it would have taken months to obtain one to New York. In
1897, six of the Helfet off-spring chose to abide the months of waiting for
tickets to America. Leon found a berth destined for Cape Town within weeks at a
cheaper fare than his siblings had to pay and thus began what in later years
became known in his family as “the Carmel Villa Saga.”
Although her admiration had also developed into
affection and then love, Sara at the tender age of fifteen found it very
difficult to make up her mind on such vital questions. But Leon was not only
head-over-heels in love, but also charmingly persuasive. After many hours of
discussions between themselves and their families, the suitor won the day, and
he won over her family who shuddered at the prospect of their young daughter
facing unknown dangers and isolation by burying herself in “darkest Africa”.
Hurdle number one was thus successfully crossed when
Sara accepted his proposal. And number two, when he persuaded her to believe
his promise that he would make his fortune in South Africa, build a beautiful
home and send for her in a few years’ time. She in turn agreed that her
betrothal promise was final, and that she would accept no other offers of
marriage and would wait eagerly for the great embarkation date and her arrival
at her faraway home-to-be. Never did either of them dream that she would have
to wait faithfully for over seven years.
Sara’s background was similar, yet very different from
Leon’s. She was born in Switslotz, Kovno, Lithuania on May 1, 1881 as one of
three sons and three daughters to Aaron and Gertrude Levin. One son and one
daughter were born in Liverpool where the family had settled in 1884, when Sara
was almost three. As a result, she remembered little of her birthplace, and
grew up as an English-speaking child into the lifestyle and culture of her
adopted land. She was enrolled in a good school before her fifth birthday where
she proved to be exceptionally bright. At the tender age of twelve, she was
chosen to join a pupil teachers class peremptory to becoming a teacher of
English after completion of her schooling.
With farewell parcels from family and friends and the
rest of his worldly goods in a trunk and a blanket-roll, Leon paid the 12
pounds for a third class ticket, bade farewell to people most of whom he would
never see again, and commenced a journey into the unknown. In his purse were 26
pounds, “capital” to be used in his search for the “fortune” he so was
confident he would make in his “new world.”
The twenty-one-day voyage in the “Avondale Castle’ was
a great adventure and a vast improvement on the shorter but dismal voyage to
Liverpool made six years earlier. Although the cabin accommodation with three
other passengers was very cramped, his bunk hard and the food poor compared to
his mother’s excellent home cooking, he enjoyed every hour of this, his first
glorious holiday. Being easy-going and friendly, he made many ship-board
friends. Almost too soon, on a glorious morning, the majestic bulk of Table
Mountain materialized “out of the sea”. And below it, the small, beautiful city
of Cape Town. Thus began the new life for the shtetl-born, nineteen-year-old
South African-to-be!
Chapter
2
Leon Helfet never forgot his first impressions of Cape
Town and of the very friendly South Africans he met. Representatives of the
local Jewish community came on board the ship after the gangway had been
attached and sought out any Jewish arrivals. Among the large complement of
passengers they found about a dozen, all men young to middle aged and all seeking
to establish new lives for themselves and for faraway families and relatives
hopefully to follow them one day. The new immigrants were taken to two Kosher
boarding houses in Kloof street where many of their predecessors had spent
their first days on South African soil. Soon they were seeking means to start
earning a living. But as jobs were scarce, their mentors introduced them to old
established wholesale merchants such as William Spilhous, Daniel Mills, J.W.
Jagger and others. These were rich, friendly, helpful men who had, through the
previous decade or two, learned to trust the Jewish immigrants with merchandise
and loans on credit. They also gave the young beginner traders advice on how
and where to try to establish themselves in business. These were the days of
mutual trust when guaranteed overdrafts, promissory notes and bonds had not yet
become fashionable or even essential.
The first bit of advice that Leon received turned out
to be a flop. He was sold jigs and materials, shown how to use them and told to
canvas from door to door in the making and supplying of frames for the family
photographs sold by itinerant photographers who had shortly before, started the
fashion. Shapes ranged from squares, oblong, round oval and even to concave in
many different sizes. Alas, after trudging many miles and knocking on many
doors, he discovered that other young men had been given the same advice before
him and so beaten him to the prospective picture frame customers. Undaunted, he
took a train to Worcester where he was assured that he would find no
competition for his trade. However he was disappointed to learn from the few
established and friendly Jewish businessmen in the town that a frame-making
business would not succeed in their small town.
And so, what to do? While searching for some other way
to earn a living, he met a remarkable “character” who was instrumental in his
choice of a South African future. A direction about which he had never dreamed
nor had knowledge of. He was “Oom” Dawie Cohen, a Jewish livestock dealer who
had for many years done business with hundreds of farmers in the Western Cape.
He operated from his farm, Hottentotskloof, 30 km from Ceres on the way to
Calvinia where he also ran a “Travellers’ Rest” hostelry and a general dealer
shop.
Oom Dawie’s relationship with the friendly Afrikaners,
and his knowledge of the vast surrounding districts were their farms were
situated, made him the ideal person to give the advice Leon Helfet needed. And
it didn’t take him more than a few minutes of thought: “the village of Calvinia
and it’s enormous district still offers great potential and opportunities to
business men willing to take their merchandise to the farmers on their farms,
and also to buy their produce”.
He advised Leon to return to Cape Town and obtain a
loan for the purchase of a Cape cart and two horses. Then to buy a stock of
items which would probably be in short supply in the hinterland, such as
clocks, watches, knives, kitchen utensils, pots and pans and rolls of strong
materials like corduroy and cottons. Then to find a partner or assistant to
accompany him as he set off on the 375 km journey to Calvinia. It would take
five or six days, he said, and that Leon was welcome to spend the second night
with him and when he can learn more about country trading. This kindly old man
happened to be one of the most respected characters in the vast territory in
which he traded.
Back in Cape Town, Leon arranged a partnership with a
young immigrant with whom he had been fairly friendly on the voyage. They
bought a cart and horses and all the stock they could transport, on credit.
Within two weeks they set off on an adventure into the unknown. All went well
until they reached the Hottentotskloof where they spent the second night and
received the warm hospitality and invaluable advice from Oom Dawie. After fond
farewells, and expressions of gratitude, they set off early the next day on the
225 km trip to Calvinia. At noon that day, disaster struck. Half way up a steep
mountain, Theronsberg, a halt was called for the horses to take a breather and
the men to stretch their legs. They had put stones behind the wheels and were
chatting next to the cart when suddenly a Karoo whirlwind, about which they
would learn much in the years to come, appeared from nowhere. Its twirling
column of dust passed right over them, scattering bits of bushes and leaves
along its path. A twig hit one of the horses in the face. It took fright and
within seconds it and its mate had jerked the cart round and set off at a
gallop down the same mountain they had struggled up hours before. A startled
and shocked Leon and pal watched the cart carrying all their possessions
bumping and swaying precariously down the narrow, rutted and twisting road,
shedding boxes, pots and anything not tied down on either side of the road.
Some rolled down the mountainside, others landed in bushes and the hard, dry
veld along the wayside.
So, what was to be done? Leon detailed his pal to
find, collect and put together next to the road whatever he could salvage. Then
he set off running after their precious cart and praying that it would not
overturn and be wrecked and the horses hurt. Meanwhile a farmer whose homestead
nestled at the foot of the mountain, happened to notice the dust that the
runaway horses and cart had raised. Grabbing his telescope, he was able to see
what had occurred and hurried to the crossroads. As the horses were about to
pass him at the crossroad, with the consummate skill gained during the many
years he had handled animals, he grabbed the trailing reins and at a trot was
able to bring them to a standstill.
Tired, sweaty and dusty, Leon finally reached him and
the precious and undamaged cart some considerable time later. After the usual
handshake and swapping of names, the good Samaritan waved aside his profuse
thanks and instead drove the distressed uitlander to his farm. In hesitant
English, he offered the traditional Afrikaner hospitality to his unexpected
visitor, commencing with coffee and boerebeskuit and then the use of the
“vfykamer” (guest room) for him to wash and brush-up. The friendly farmer next
saw him back on the way to rejoin his partner high up on the mountain pass.
When he finally reached him, he was greatly relieved to discover that most of
their scattered stock had been recovered, some undamaged, some repairable and saleable
and a small percentage beyond repair. Thus ended Leon’s first adventure in his
new land. The first of many still to come!
After carefully repacking the cart the two tired and
then wiser young men drove off up the rest of the pass behind their similarly
exhausted horses, to continue their long trek to still faraway Calvinia.
In that semi barren part of the country, farms are
very large and far apart. But on the arrival of these strange visitors at their
mostly modest homes, their owners invariably gave them a warm welcome, fodder
and stabling for the horses plus meals and comfortable overnight accommodation.
In the years ahead, they were to experience and appreciate this unstinted
hospitality of the rural Boere (farmers).
Tired, apprehensive but with great relief and burning
curiosity, they finally reached the dusty, picturesque little village of
Calvinia six days after leaving Cape Town. It nestled between the massive
Hantam mountain range to its north, and the majestic, lone standing Rebunie
mountain to the south.
Their long trek and the experiences and encounters
with country people en route proved very valuable when they settled down and
came to grips with the local community, the majority of who spoke only the
gutteral Germanic-sounding Afrikaans language which they would have to learn.
In fact, he made some friendships which kept him on farms over weekends.
Chapter
3
The settlement that was to become Calvinia, named
after Calvin the religious reformer, was established on an area which had
previously been part of the farm, Hoogekraal, subsequently renamed Ramskop, as
it is still known today. It was administered by the Dutch Reformed Church
Hantam Congregation from its establishment in 1847 until 1893. These functions
were then taken over by the newly elected Calvinia Village Management Board. In
1904, the “town” received its full Municipal status.
Thus when Leon Helfet arrived in Calvinia in mid-1897,
it was just a “dorpie”, in some respects similar to but smaller than the
shtetl, 14,000 km distant which he had left only six years earlier.
Within days of their arrival, the two young men had
met the few dozen most important local citizens, Afrikaans, English and Jewish.
All offered a warm welcome and hospitality. The small Jewish community
comprising about half a dozen families and a similar number of bachelors, were
all engaged in some form of trading. A few owned general dealer shops, a few
were produce merchants as well and the balance were beginners at the bottom of
the business ladder: peddlers, or “smouse”, who trekked from farm to farm by
cart or on foot, offering their wares for sale or in exchange for produce such
as skins and hides and in due course, also for wheat, wool and livestock.
Cash was not the most important commodity. In fact,
the granting of credit and mutual trust between Afrikaners and Jews were the
basis of satisfactory trading and friendly relations to the immense benefit of
all concerned.
Until now, this story has revolved around my father.
However, with some variations, it could of course by and large, be told about
many of the “uitlander” immigrants, Jewish or Christian, Russian, Lithuanian,
German, Dutch or English who chose to settle in South Africa from circa the
first half of the nineteenth century until well into the twentieth century.
His would-be-partner, decided to take a job with one
of these firms which left Leon to his own devices. He had to find centrally
situated premises from which to trade and for this purpose, he hired a few
rooms in a one-time dwelling house, which faced on a reasonably located street.
A handyman painted a sign: “Leon Helfet General Dealer” and it was an exciting
and thrilling moment for the young man, still a teenager, when this was erected
above the entrance door. A few years later, he added the words: “And Produce
Merchant” and after another few years: “And Direct Importer”. The latter
addition, made after the end of the Anglo Boer war, indicated that he was
ordering merchandise from abroad, mainly British, but also some from Germany.
The shop required an assistant, so a young coloured
man, Klaas Tieties, was hired as a general factotum whose duties included care
of the cart and horses. Klaas also accompanied and drove Leon on his business
visits to farms. In due course, he was to become Leon’s confidant and friend
during an association of almost thirty years of loyal service.
So he had premises and employee, but how to become a
shopkeeper? He was taken under the wings of two of the older established
dealers, who not only gave him advice, but sold him rolls of chewing tobacco
and a host of the items required by potential customers from the village, surrounding
farms and from the coloured “location”. His good Samaritans allowed him small
discounts on their selling prices and time to pay. There were no shop hours
acts or other regulations to be observed, so Leon did what competitors did.
Goods were displayed inside and outside the shop, which was open from early in
the mornings until as late as he thought necessary or profitable.
He soon attracted customers, many of whom were also to
become close friends. Some were Afrikaner farmers who invited him to visit them
and bring his wares to their farms. Until he could afford to hire a shop
assistant, these excursions required periodic closing of the shop for a few
days. Distances to the farms were great and it was customary to quote them in
“hours”, that is for instance, a farm 45 km away would necessitate a “five
hours” drive, as a cart and horse covered approximately 9 km per hour.
These forays into the district added new dimensions
and interests to his life. The farmers and their families were able to visit
the village very infrequently and thus appreciated the opportunity to be able
to do shopping in their “voorhuise’, living rooms. They were also happy to
welcome strangers who were able to bring news of the capital city, Cape Town,
of the wide world “daar buite”, and to learn about how people lived “ver oor
die see”, (far over the sea).
Leon found that being a Jew, he was respected as
representing the People of the Book. Farmers who made daily use of their large
Dutch family Bibles and enjoyed religious discussions, greatly admired this
young “uitlander’ for the profound knowledge of the Old Testament, which he had
learned during his youthful “cheder” studies in the shtetl. In fact, he made
some friendships which often kept him on farms over weekends. He would, for
instance be invited to arrive on Friday evenings before the sabbath. His coloured
driver and the horses were then suitably housed and he was given the use of the
“vrykamer” (guest room). As his customers had learnt that he did not trade on
his sabbath, and they likewise on their Sabbath, Saturdays and Sundays provided
many hours for discussions on subjects ranging from religion to many others
from which they enjoyed gleaning knowledge from each other.
Leon learnt about the droughts, stock diseases and
other problems which plagued farmers. His hosts, in turn wanted to know about
the great city of Cape Town, about his long sea voyage and about far-off
England, Europe and the “dorp” of his birth. And there were always lengthy
conversations about the Bible.
Only on the Monday mornings would trading commence,
sometimes for cash and farm produce, sometimes on credit until the farmers’
annual visits to the village to attend the annual “Nachtmaal” religious
services, which included weddings, confirmations, and baptisms. This was also
an important social time for reunions with families and friends, a time to
settle business accounts and for the ladies to do the shopping they had eagerly
looked forward to all year.
When Leon had arranged premises and facilities for
handling wool and wheat and other farm produce, he became a produce merchant,
and, like other shopkeepers, an unofficial banker until commercial banks were
established in Calvinia. For a foreign young man struggling to learn Afrikaans
and to get to know the locals and their ways of life, Calvinia proved
interesting but also very boring. Although shops here opened and closed at the
whim of their owners, actual business hours were long for six full days and
evenings each week.
The little time left for leisure was spent visiting
the homes of the few married friends, in the church hall during occasional
political or other meetings, and at bazaars, fetes and rare concerts and plays.
A popular gathering place for men was the hotel pub, which was owned by a
jocular and popular Englishman, Holden who mainly dispensed brandy at a few
pence a tot.
Leon wrote long letters every week to his beloved Sara
in Liverpool and she likewise to him. These communications would take two to
three frustrating months each way, as all mail to and from Calvinia was carried
by cart and rail via Ceres to Cape Town and then by mail-ship to England.
By the middle of 1899, Leon’s business was doing well
enough for him to be able to write to his bride-to-be that he hoped to send for
her during the following year. But this was fated not to happen for another
five years.
In October 1899, the second Anglo Boer war broke out
and Calvinia became a British garrison town. Many Afrikaner “rebels’ who were
technically subjects of the British Cape Colony, left their homes to join the
Boer forces in the Orange Free State and the Transvaal Republic. Others joined
the garrison as part time “home guards” and this included Leon Helfet, who was
the son of a naturalized British subject and thus a British citizen.
Only desultory fighting occurred in the area although
General Smuts and other Boer officers had led successful forays into the Cape
Colony, one unit even reaching Van Rhyndsorp 110 km south west of Calvinia. One
of the fiercest battles in the district took place at Middelpos in the
Roggeveld, where General van Deventer defeated the British under General
Mathews.
The Calvinia village was left almost unscarred
although a number of farmers suffered damage and losses. Shopkeepers were kept
busy supplying the British forces with foodstuffs, tents, wagons, mules, horses
and many of their other requirements. As a result, brisk and profitable
business brought boom conditions to the traders, among them, Leon Helfet.
The war ended in 1902 and he then commenced planning
for his prospective bride to come to South Africa. But it was to take more than
two years before they were finally to be reunited.
Passenger ships were required for the repatriation of
troops and Colonial officials to England, for bureaucrats to replace others in
South Africa and for reorganizing the war affected civil services. There were
thus no available berths for civilians.
In Calvinia, Leon had been involved with two ventures.
In partnership with two friends, the firm of Helfet, Weinreich and Sher was
formed for the purchase of the farm, Middelpos. It comprised a comfortable
homestead, a shop and extensive grazing veld and was situated in the Roggeveld
between Calvinia and Sutherland. It was “six hours” away and Leon after a while
found that the distance between the village and the new venture made his
personal participation difficult. His two partners agreed to buy his shares and
took control on their own. Leon’s biggest contribution to the partnership was
the result of a special journey he made to Cape Town where he successfully
applied for a bottle store license for Middelpos. The very first to be granted
in that enormous area.
His second new venture was to prove a great and long
lasting success. He had been approached by farmers who had a few years
previously bought the original Dutch Reformed Church building and established
in this large and solid structure – its original walls were almost a metre
thick – a general dealers’ shop which they named “De Boerewinkel” (the Farmers’
shop).
This was the first cooperative business in the North
West Cape, but it had not been a success due mainly to lack of experienced
management. Some of the partners lived on distant farms. The farmers sold the
building and business as a growing concern at a reasonable price and its
prominent front gable was for many years thereafter to bear the signs “Leon
Helfet, De Boerewinkel, established in 1897”, the year that he had commenced
business in Calvinia. He retired about forty years later and the building was
partly destroyed in 1952 by fire in the shop premises rented by his successors.
His next important venture was a labour of love – the
building of a home for his betrothed for whom he had finally managed to secure
a cabin in a mail ship leaving England in December 1904.
Chapter
4
Early in 1884 Sara’s father, Aaron Levin, had managed
to emigrate to Liverpool with his wife, Gertrude, two sons and two daughters.
He was a Rabbinical teacher who was gladly absorbed into the synagogue and
school by the local Jewish community. The terms of his appointment as a staff
member in the school, included free accommodation and reduced school fees.
Three of the children were already over five and were thus immediately enrolled
in the school. Sara joined them two years later when she was of “of age”. Their
education followed English school curricula plus Hebrew and Judaism. And, as
Sara had been too young to remember much about her Eastern European birthplace,
she grew up as an English child like her schoolmates. In fact her perfect
English and copybook handwriting were to win her many school awards and much
admiration.
Being such an accomplished young lady and also very
beautiful, she had received numerous proposals of marriage and also a tempting
offer of a colonial teaching post in Palestine during the years that followed
Leon’s departure. But she remained steadfastly faithful to her betrothed.
Throughout over seven long years their only communication was by mail in which
they constantly reconfirmed their love and burning desire to be married an to
be with each other.
After the Boer war had ended, Sara was excited to read
that their new home had been planned and would be ready for occupation on her
arrival. She could not imagine however, to what lengths her fiancé was going in
order to provide her with a dream house, which he was to name “Carmel Villa”
after the biblical Mount Carmel, in Haifa, Palestine.
There were no architects in Calvinia so Leon made a
point of studying some of the beautiful Victorian houses in Cape Town. He then
designed a large seven-roomed home which was to be a modern showpiece in the
village. Fortunately for him, two Russian, Jewish building contractors were at
the time doing a construction job for the Government and were happy to also
accept his assignment. They proved to be honest, hard working and experienced,
and in fact, the house they built for him is still, after 100 years, a
comfortable and solid home. Its original corrugated roof and iron gate and
“broekie lace” pillars are still intact and in good condition. Building
commenced in 1903 and was completed finally only in late 1904 mainly because of
delays in the delivery of special materials imported from England.
“Carmel Villa” was to be sited opposite the
“pastorie”, the home of successive Dutch Reformed Church “dominees”
(ministers), and near the Oorlogskloof River boundary. Leon chose this location
because he and his friends anticipated that future town development would occur
in that direction. This did not happen however, as a railway line connecting
Calvinia with Hutchinson was built twenty years later to terminate at the
station on the opposite side of town. It was there that most new homes and
buildings were erected in years that followed.
Meanwhile the slowly progressing “Carmel Villa’ became
a great attraction and the focus point of weekend walks for inspection and
discussion on the progress by villagers. The high pitched roof constructed of
heavy gauge corrugated iron covered an enormous loft designed to cool the
building. Wide steps on three sides of the house were gaily painted curved
corrugated verandas with decorative “broekie lace” (Victorian iron pattern
work) under the rainwater gutters and supported by fluted pillars. The front
gate and railings on low walls protected the garden. They were of very heavy
ironwork depicting fruit and flowers. At one pound per hundred pounds weight
for transport by wagon from Ceres railhead alone, added to their original cost
in England and shipping and rail charges, this ornamentation added a fortune to
the very large sum paid for this luxurious home.
And so, back to the very impatient bride whose family
and friends were still most apprehensive about her venturing into the unknown
wilds of Africa. Her reservation was made in a second class two-berth cabin in
the modern Armadale Castle which was to leave for Cape Town in mid-December
1904. Final departure took place on a cold, wet winters day. As she bade
farewell to her friends and dear ones, her sadness was tempered by excitement
at the happy prospect of soon joining Leon and of experiencing the warm, sunny
summer weather he had so often described in his letters.
Her passage cost 23 pounds. The second berth was
occupied by a very friendly lady on her way to join her husband in the Colonial
Service at the Cape. She found no fault with the facilities they shared or the
meals served in the beautifully appointed and well staffed dining room. The
social and deck-sports activities were new experiences and greatly enjoyed. She
turned out to be an excellent sailor who did not have to miss any part of the
trip or meals as other passengers did. Many years later, she was to tell us, her
children, about this wonderful voyage and how, among others, she had won first
prize in a “Name the Book” competition. She had walked around her fellow
passengers continuously twisting a skein of wool and none of them guessed that
she represented the book “Oliver Twist”!
Cape Town was reached after nineteen action-filled
days. She delighted in entering Table Bay Table Mountain as the first sighting
of her new home country. As she had been promised, it was on a balmy, sunny
summer morning. The date was January 10, 1905. Her reunion at last with her
groom-to-be on the quayside was of course an emotional and exciting event which
was to prove the beginning of almost forty-nine happy and productive years in
South Africa.
Soon the happy couple, surrounded by cabin trunks and
cases were on their way to the boarding house where he had spent his first few
days in South Africa. Within a week they were married in the small synagogue in
the Gardens, which was the first to be consecrated in the country and has been
a Jewish Museum more recently. They took the train to Glen Cairn where they
honeymooned for two enchanting weeks at the hotel nestled against the mountain.
Here Sara experienced her first dip in the waves of the warm Indian Ocean and
walks on the miles of beautiful white beaches at Muizenberg.
And then occurred an adventure about which she wrote
long letters to England and recounted vivid tales in the years to come. Leon
had explained that the journey to their home in Calvinia would take five days.
They left on Monday, as he had planned to end the trip on the Friday afternoon
before sunset and the commencement of the Jewish Sabbath.
Their first day they travelled in a train which
reached the end of the railway line at Eenekuil about 150 km from Cape Town.
That night was spent at the Railway Hotel on the station. Their room was hot
and airless but reasonably comfortable in comparison to what was to come. For
the next four days, the young bride was to experience something of the “Africa”
about which she had read and experienced only in nightmares. The vehicle
awaiting them was a light, covered and sprung wagon drawn by four horses. A
coloured driver sat in front on the “wakis” (wagon box) and they on a seat
behind him. Their suitcases, boxes of wedding gifts and trunks containing
Sara’s trousseau filled the space in the rear.
It was mid-summer and very, very hot. Sara’s “English
summer clothes” proved very far from comfortable or suitable. Fashionable
high-necked, long-sleeved gaberdine dresses over tightly laced corsets, suede
boots with matching gloves and wide hats looked very chic on the slim,
fair-skinned young woman, but were ridiculously out of place for this journey.
The heat, dust, bumpy roads and swarms of flies were awful new experiences and
Leon had constantly to ensure her that the four days would soon be over and forgotten
once they had reached the comfort of their new home. After a scenically
beautiful fun over Greys pass and through Citrusdal, which partly compensated
for the discomfort, they spent the second night in the friendly Clanwilliam
Hotel. But then followed the third and worst day. The road zigzagged up and
over the Pakhuis Pass and round, through and over hills and koppies which were
adorned with astonishingly beautiful and weirdly shaped rock formations. These
were lost to Sara in her misery. No breezes relieved temperatures which must
have reached over 40 degrees Celsius (104 degrees Fahrenheit). The road was
appalling and winged “wild life” a constant pest. During one of their many
stops for leg stretching and for the horses to have a breather, the young bride
found a rock under the skimpy shade of a branch and, easing herself onto it,
said sorrowfully to her groom: “Leon, you carry on and leave me here to die… I
have had enough.”
Her spirits were revived, however, during a stop and
rest in a cool thatch-roofed farmhouse at the foot of the Pakhuis Pass where
the strange English speaking bridal couple were welcomed with great warmth and
curiosity. They were plied with questions along with boere coffee and biskuit,
gemmerbeer (ginger beer) and cakes before their hosts reluctantly bade them
farewell after a stay of only a few hours. That night was spent at a shabby
Travellers Rest hostel and the next night, Thursday, after another boiling hot
day, at the house of a friendly farmer. This place unfortunately proved little
improvement on the discomforts of the previous few days. Finally, the last day
of the long and arduous journey brought Sara relief, excitement and happily, a
different kind of “adventure”. Before his departure from Cape Town, Leon had
arranged with his good friends, Mr and Mrs “Rooi” Willem Louw, owners of the
farm Soetwater, 30 kms from Calvinia, that he and his bride be allowed to make
a mid-day stop in their home before continuing on their last lap. The Louws
made them very welcome on their arrival before noon and put a comfortable room
and bathroom at their disposal. After washup and change out of their dusty
travel clothes, and feeling civilized once more they were served a delicious
lunch and kept chatting until they were due to leave. During those few hours,
Sara made and subsequently cemented her first warm friendship with an Afrikaner
family. (Incidentally, the Louw’s daughter was to become the wife of Prime Minister,
D. F. Malan about a half century later!) Mr Louw, “Oom Rooi Willem” as he was
known in the district, was some years later to become the first member of
Parliament to represent Calvinia. He subsequently resigned his seat in favour
of D. F. Malan, who had left the Dutch Reformed Church pulpit to fight and
unsuccessfully, an election in Graaf Reinet.
A great surprise awaited “die Engelse bruid” when they
emerged from the farmhouse. Their uncomfortable wagon had been replaced by a
gleaming Landau pulled by four horses bedecked with ostrich plumes which was to
take them the last three hours of their journey. The owner, Oom Tienie Van Dyk,
who was a well-known Calvinia friend of Leon’s had loaned the vehicle (the only
one in the district), with his show horses and suitably dressed driver as a
welcome gesture to the young couple. To add to this splendour, six young men
friends from the village had arrived on horseback to provide a guard of honour
to accompany they home. As the procession set of at a brisk pace, they raised
their rifles to fire salvos of salutation.
After a comfortable three hours drive in the
well-sprung carriage, kept lively by jocular banter between the riders and the newlyweds,
the village of Calvinia gradually appeared against the backdrop of the
majestic, flat-topped Hantam mountain range. By then, Sara could not suppress
her excitement and plied proud Leon with many questions. They finally all drew
up very grandly in front of the impressive ornamental gate of “Carmel Villa”
which was gleaming in its newness. Above the front door was strung a white
canvas banner painted ornately: “Welcome home’. This same banner was reused for
many years after every family return from holidays.
The first impression that she later recalled about her
new home was the large star of David carved in wood and inset into a glass
panel above the wide front door through which Leon led her over the threshold
of the home he had designed and built for her. It had a long passage which led
into a large dining room exquisitely furnished in polished mahogany and they
found the oversized table in the centre of the room, groaning under an enormous
display of local “lekkernye”, delectables, including of course traditional
“melktert” (milk tart) and “koeksusters” (an Afrikaner treat) which had been
baked by a dozen of the ladies of the town.
These ladies and their husbands, Afrikaans, Jewish and
English, were grouped around the large room when they entered to accord the
newlyweds a hearty welcome. They were all charmed by the radiant Sara with her
English “peaches and cream” complexion and warmly embraced her into the
community.
It took the new, young Mrs Helfet a long time to get
accustomed to the running of a large house and to get to know how to handle and
work with coloured domestic help. They in turn, took as long to understand her
English and her overseas habits. Despite her brilliant school career she never
learned to speak Afrikaans in the forty years she lived in Calvinia as both the
servants and the Afrikaners she met and befriended, preferred that she speak to
them in English. They enjoyed listening to her eloquence and also learned from
her how to speak the language.
One of the most unusual habits she had to cope with
was the “open door’ country hospitality. For example, local and farmer friends
or customers would drop in unexpectedly for coffee or a chat, or Leon would
bring guests home for a meal often without being able to warn her beforehand.
Telephones reached the country districts many years later and messengers were
not always available for the purpose.
The spacious new home was delightfully comfortable as
the high-pitched roof, loft and high ceilings kept it cool even during the hot
summer days. It was built well back from the street, so that not much dust
filtered through the well-fitting doors and windows.
Chapter
Five
It is thought that the population of the Calvinia
village, white and coloured, totalled under one thousand souls at the end of
the nineteenth century. Of these, under fifty were “uitlanders” (foreigners),
mainly English and east European Jewish. These two small foreign communities,
of which the Jewish was the larger, played a disproportionate role in the
development of the town, which was referred to as “The capital of the North
West Cape”, the enormous district which covers an area larger than Holland and
Belgium combined.
The shops and hotels in the town and district, which
included the villages – yet-to-be — of Nieuwoudtville, Loeriesfontein and
Brandvlei were owned mainly by the uitlanders. As these establishments grew,
they employed more and more local men and women as shop assistants, office
staff and general factotum. In the course of time these businesses became
training schools for their Afrikaner employees, who in the years to follow were
to take an ever-increasing part in the commerce and industry all over South
Africa. In fact, after the 1950’s there were very few Jews and English still
living and trading in the “platteland” (country) including Calvinia, which lost
its last Jewish family, that of Mr Jack Sher, a third generation in the
district, in 1975. This was about a hundred and fifty years after the
first-known Jewish settlement in the town.
Like most of the hinterland dorps, Calvinia had not
yet been linked by rail to cities or towns at the beginning of the twentieth
century. In isolation its inhabitants were this self-dependent for social
entertainment and sporting activities. After her arrival Sara Helfet became
involved in all these fields and was inspirational with the latest European
fashions she brought with her in her extensive trousseau. When she walked down
dusty Hope Street, the main street of the town, from Carmel Villa to De Boer
Winkel to meet Leon returning from business, the ladies in the homes she passed
would look out for her, peering through parted blinds to see what “die Engelse
bruid” (English bride) was wearing that day.
She introduced other fashions she had gleaned from her
teaching experience and social and communal activities in Liverpool. The town’s
leading ladies learnt about “being at home’ on the same afternoon each week to
“receive” friends they might have expected for tea and light eats which
invariably included thin English-type white bread sandwiches and scones with
jam. They also learnt about having visiting cards printed, which were to be
left in receptacles on entrance hall tables when “calling” on a newcomer for
the first time. Three cards were required, two bearing their husband’s names
and one quite a bit smaller with their names and addresses.
She established a play-reading society which met
monthly and a croquet club, the playing court of which was “prepared” by the
Municipality in a central spot near the Dutch Reformed church hall. Its surface
was in fact just levelled and rolled clay and gravel, which made it faster and
trickier than the traditional overseas grass courts. These would of course not
have been possible to cultivate in the rain-starved North West Cape. Evening
entertainment also included magic lantern slide shows and musical evenings in
drawing rooms, most of which contained pianos or harmoniums.
Although I am running ahead of the time being
chronicled it may be appropriate to mention here that Leon was one of a small
group of men who founded two Calvinia sports clubs after World War One: a Turf
and Golf Club both originally for male members only. The “race course” was
demarcated on a farm adjoining the village. Its “track” was on a sandy veld
from which some obstructions like bushes and rocks had been removed. Horses
belonging to townsmen and farmers were ridden by small Coloured “jockeys’ and very
hectic and enthusiastic betting was organized by one of the Club’s “stewards”.
A nine-hole golf course was laid out on the same farm
area as the race course. The “greens” were covered with fine “Kimberly-blue”
sand which required leveling by contraptions called “scrapers”. These were
carried by every player and used before putting to ensure any accuracy. After
the very occasional good rainy winter season, golfers were hampered (during the
following spring months) by pleasantly unusual hazards in the form of masses of
multi-coloured wild flowers. “Fairways” became veritable flower gardens and
each player would have to hire two young coloured youths to act as caddies, one
to go well ahead of the strike to help to find the ball amongst the flowers in
the usually dusty, barren Karoo veld.
In those days the Municipality and in later years also
the Chamber of Commerce, Board of Executors and other public bodies comprised
Afrikaner and uitlander members who worked together in complete harmony. The
small Jewish and still smaller Anglican communities formed congregations and in
the 1920's were able to build a beautiful synagogue and church respectively.
But I am still running well ahead of the times I had
been writing about. The Anglo Boer War cost the British Exchequer £191,000,000
of which vast sums were spent on such requirements as wagons, carts, horses and
mules, on tents and the like and of course food, meat, poultry, meal, dairy
products, alcohol ... in fact all the demands of tens of thousands of troops
who were continuously on the move after the elusive Boer guerillas. Much of
this money was spent in the country areas where military action had taken place
and Calvinia fell into this category. Farmers supplied livestock and produce to
the shopkeepers who in turn sold them and other essentials of war to the
British. And, whereas some rural areas in the north were devastated by the
fighting, Calvinia had not only suffered little but instead prospered by the
vast influx of money.
Leon Helfet was among the men who were conscripted by
the Cape Colonial Government to do comparatively light “Town Guard” duties,
which allowed him time also to run his affairs and supply the military
commissariats. And, as his business grew so also were additional premises and
staff required.
His family likewise grew. Sara had produced three sons
who were six, four and two respectively by the winter of 1913, when her longing
to see her family and friends in Liverpool and parade her offspring became
unbearable. Her husband who by then could well afford the expense, was happy to
send the four of us “home' on a six months holiday. Being number three I was
too young to remember the voyages there and back, of the large city from which
our mother had hailed. But some of the snippets of news about the adventure I
learned about when older included with what deep concern our English cousins
contemplated our arrival. “What do we do with our black cousins from Africa?”
and “what will our friends say?” were among the problems that worried them. And
that our mother had found the cold, the rain and grey skies in the English
summer so depressing after eight years of dry, sunny weather in Calvinia and
during holidays in Cape Town, that she decided to return to South Africa after
only three months instead of the six originally planned.
Chapter
Six
In the era before the universality of motor cars,
telephones, radios and rail and bus inter-town links, the isolated platteland
towns meant and farmers were left to their own amusement devices. And thus were
born the practical jokers whose otherwise quiet lifestyles left them with time
on their hands to devise the most outrageous pranks on both friends and enemies
alike.
Among the leading “jokers” in Calvinia were highly
respected citizens such as Dr. Andries Christoffel Neethling, district surgeon
and general practitioner, Mr Billy Holden, owner of the Commercial Hotel and
for many years mayor of the town, Mr Koos Nel van der Merwe, a well-to-do
retired farmer and former mayor, my father, Leon Helfet, a leading general
dealer and car dealer, and Koos van Wyk, the first motor car salesman in the
North West Cape, to name only a few. And the following tales are about some of the
kinds of carefully planned activities they got up to.
Koos Nel van der Merwe loved to talk English, although
far from being fluent in this second language. He often produced hilarious faux
pas such as for instance calling the “look-out play room” on top of his home,
“my basement”. He lived on friendly/enemy terms with Dr Neethling who adored
playing practical jokes at his expense.
On one of Koos Nel's rare visits to Cape town, he
received a telegram with his wife's name as the sender, telling him to buy
three wide-brimmed summer hats for her and their two daughters for a wedding
celebration. He was flabbergasted by this unusual assignment as he had never
bought any apparel for his women folk before. However, an order from the boss
was an order. A lady assistant in a large Adderly Street store helped him to
select three very fashionable hats, which she handed to him in large paper hat
bags as she had no hat boxes large enough to accommodate them.
Poor Mr van der Merwe found it very difficult to find
somewhere to put these awkward packages in the train coupe which he shared with
a stranger for the overnight journey from Cape town to the rail head at Klaver.
The rest of the trip home was by cape cart which carried passengers and mail to
Van Rhynsdorp, Nieuwoudtville and Calvinia. There was no place for his bulky,
fragile parcels in the cart so there was no alternative but to balance them on
his lap for the day-long journey, making the normally uncomfortable trip even
more so.
And, alas, the hats were destined for near disaster en
route. Without warning a sudden whirlwind passed over and though the vehicle,
swooped the light bags off his lap and scattered them over the surrounding
veld. Oom Koos Nel went after the “bleddie” hats, which he now cursed with
vehemence and a “never again” decision. The bags were torn and the hats dusty
when he salvaged them, at which stage he was beyond caring about their
condition. The climax of the saga was reached on his arrival home late in the
evening, tired, dusty and in a foul mood. When he commenced berating his wife
for expecting him to carry out such an impossible request, she calmed him down
and after he had swallowed a few stiff brandies, thanked him for the gifts and
told him that she and their daughters not only did not need any hats for a
wedding about which she knew nothing, but that she would never have dreamt of
sending him a telegram to buy them.
In a further state of shock he gradually realised that
someone had played a monstrous joke on him and, by a process of elimination
from a list of suspect culprits, he came to the conclusion that it could have
been the brain child of only one of his friends, Dr Neethling. His suspicion
became a certainty when the good doctor posed some “innocent” remarks and
queries about his Cape Town visit . He began to plan his revenge forthwith.
After lying low for some weeks he told a stable hand to saddle up one of his
horses and ride it out into the veld as fast and hard as it could carry him for
a few hours. While this was happening, he told his wife to write a note to Dr
Neethling as from a farmer in the Bushmanland 150 km away. In it he begged the
doctor to come out to his farm as soon as possible as his wife had taken
seriously ill. When the stable-hand returned on the exhausted, dusty and foamy
horse, he sent him to deliver the note on horseback to Dr Neethling's surgery.
It was mid-afternoon by then, but the doctor could not
ignore the plea of a patient and old friend, so he set off on his faithful
model 'T' Ford on the four-hour drive over shocking roads. It meant that he
could not be back before well after midnight. He reached the farm after dark,
gathered his black bag and hurried to the 'voorhuis' front door. This was
opened within a minute of his knock by the “seriously ill farmers' wife.
Neither she nor her husband knew anything about the note, the horse or the rider
who had delivered it.
After a few drinks and a good laugh at his
embarrassment, he was treated to supper by his hospitable friends before the
long drive home, chagrinned but nevertheless good naturedly amused at the
revenge that has been planned by his 'friend', Koos Nel van der Merwe, for what
had become known in the village as “die hoede storie”. (the hat story).
At the time when fabulous prizes were to be won in the
Irish Hospitals Sweepstake a group of young Calvinia men were wont to gather in
Billy Holden's Commercial Hotel pub and in partnership buy a book of twelve £1
tickets annually in this, the world's biggest gamble. One year about the time
when results were expected Leon Helfet, one of the partners, was wracking his
brains on how to get even with the publican, Billy Holden.
In those days all manner of merchandise was
transported by donkey wagon from the Ceres railhead to Calvinia 50 km away.
Leon one day received a telegram – a wonderful amenity inaugurated only weeks
before – in which he was informed that a consignment of assorted goods totalling
25,000 pounds in weight, was available for collection at the Ceres railhead.
The message was written in pencil and this fate had played into his eager
hands. Erasing the message he asked his bookkeeper to change it to read £25,000
to be collected at Ceres Bank from “Irishsweep”. The telegram was rushed to
Billy Holden, whose hotel was one street behind the Helfets’ building. Within a
matter of minutes the publican had sent messages to the four other members of
the syndicate to foregather to celebrate with drinks on the house, gifted by
the excited owner. My Dad was in danger of being lynched when the truth was told
to the inebriated “partners. But Billy Holden came to his rescue when he
explained wryly that Helfet had only been repaying him for a pretty costly
practical joke that he had some weeks earlier played on him.
Those and many other episodes kept the Calviniaites on
the qui vive, but this did not deter the pranksters from dreaming up ever more
outrageous and ingenious practical jokes, the like of which have long since
gone out of fashion.
Every dorp produced “characters” and Calvinia was no
exception as just illustrated. One of the most unforgettable of these was Koos
“Helfet” who died at the age of 73, a physical wreck but with, until the end,
the courageous spirit of a super human being whose reputation will live for
generations.
Jacobus Willem Adriaan van Wyk was born in 1894 on the
farm Ramskop on the outskirts of Calvinia. Being the eldest son he bore the
names of his father and all his JWA van Wyk ancestors before him. Like them he
too was called “Koos” for short and, as has always been the custom in the
platteland, he was distinguished from all the other Koos van Wyks by being
given a nickname. In his youth he was known as “Koos Ramskop” after his
birthplace, but for the last sixty years of his life, he was known affectionately
as “Koos Helfet” throughout the vast North Western Cape.
Young Koos was five when the Anglo Boer war broke out
in 1899. Calvinia was a strategic area in the ensuing fighting. And, as a
result of the hostilities and disruption, his schooling suffered as did the
financial health of his family. He was obliged to take a job as a shop
assistant cum messenger boy at the tender age of 15. At 20, in 1914,
remembering the hardships of the Boer War, he ran away and joined General Manie
Maritz's anti-British rebels in German South West Africa. After General J. C.
Smuts' expeditionary force had, within months, squashed the rebellion and
occupied this enemy colony, Koos was repatriated to his home village where he
started in a new job and career.
He had grown into a tall, blond, blue-eyed and
handsome young man of the veld, who had the ability to adapt himself to
circumstances and peoples in all walks of life, and in the process he endeared
himself to all who came in contact with him. He developed an inborn earthy
philosophy and became a raconteur who collected or coined and retained for life
an inexhaustible repertoire of anecdotes and jokes with which he entertained
the dorp. Although he had come from a typical farming background he soon made his
mark as a salesman, having joined Leon Helfet's De Boor Winkel after the
rebellion as a grocery clerk and then as a car salesman.
He soon learned to respect and love his boss on whom
he modeled his honest business philosophy. In fact he became and remained a
“member of the family”. For the rest of his life he bore the name “Koos Helfet”
with pride. Leon Helfet became a Ford dealer in 1912, the first motor agency in
the vast North West Cape, this adding a new dimension to his growing general
business. And this led in turn to Koos becoming the first car salesman in the
area when stocks of vehicles became available after the end of the war in 1918.
He was not only the first but also for many years the best-known in their
enormous agency territory, which stretched from Calvinia to Springbok, Port
Nolleth, Clanwilliam, Van Rhynsdorp, Fraserberg, Williston and Brandvlei, in
total an area about the size of Europe.
Some people are taught and trained to sell but Koos
was a born salesman. He demonstrated and sold Ford “Tin Lizzies” and their
successors, the Models 'A', 'B' and 'V8's' far and wide. Most of his
prospective customers lived in distant villages or on farms where, after
concluding a sale, he would often have to teach them to drive. And when
necessary, in order to make a sale, he would have to trade-in a cart and
horses, a wagon, produce or later, old cars.
In the 1920's fabulous discoveries of alluvial
diamonds were made in the barren North West corner of Namaqualand with
Alexander Bay as the focal point. The news spread like wild fire and soon this
unknown desert became world news. Dozens of car salesmen from far and wide
converged on this unique and promising market where new cars were soon being
bought in their many hundreds.
Koos Helfet too shuttled new cars from calvinia and
Cape Town and did a roaring trade for a few hectic years. And it was against
this CID versus IDB (Illicit Diamond Buying) background that he told many true
and gripping stories. I have “married” some of them into a story which I have
dubbed “Don't Die for Diamonds” which I will tell in another chapter.
Meanwhile to return to this protagonist after his
participation and adventure in the Namaqualand saga and his return to normal
life in Calvinia.
Besides being a fine salesman, a master story teller
and a general “charmer”, Koos possessed an instinctive earthy philosophy which
the following two stories illustrate.
His home as a small holding on the outskirts of the
town. His favourite hobbies concerned animals and farming; flowers; vegetables;
fruit, lucern, egg-laying fowls and a milking cow and a few dogs for guarding
his domain.
On one of my periodic visits to him we sat as usual on
his favourite bench under a fruit tree enjoying coffee and boere bikuit and each
other’s company. While listening to the inevitable anecdotes and jokes I
noticed his beautiful cow, Gousblom, grazing nearby. She was named for her
glistening, almost orange coloured coat and had an enormous udder which
produced prodigious quantities of milk. The udder hung so low that the teats
required periodic doctoring for scratches or bruises caused by her scraping on
low bushes and grass-hidden rocks. And on this memorable day I learned an
unforgettable lesson. That animals, like people, also require psychiatric
treatment.
It was a still, warm, peaceful Karroo day. Looking
casually at Gousblom while we were chatting I saw something very odd about her.
Tied to the end of her tail by a strip of red cloth hung half a brick. “Oom
Koos, what's that all about?” I asked in amazement. “That blerrie cow has
jumped over my fence once too often” he answered. “While I was doctoring her
udder with Coopers dip last week I had a brain wave. She had torn it on the top
barbed wire strand when she cleared that fence” he pointed to one at least 1.3
meters high, “I could have kicked myself for not thinking of the “cure” before.
You see, man, a cow always lifts her tail before she can jump. So I tied that
piece of brick on the end of hers and watched for results.”
“Now she runs up to the fence and instinctively tries
to lift her tail. Of course it doesn’t come up naturally as usual. She stops
and turns to look back at it. The red rag also distracts her and I can see
annoyance all over her lovely face. She swings her weighted tail from side to
side for a while. And then in disgust, lies down on crops at the lucerne in her
own camp.”
And this is another of his animal psychology exploits:
A farmer in a shopping visit to the “dorp” had tied up his cart and two horses
in front of an “algemene handelaar's” (general dealer's) emporium and gone
inside to shop. When he returned he untied and stepped back into his cart for
the drive home. But his powerful, well-fed horses had other ideas. During their
long wait in the hot sun they had become “steeks” (stubborn), and no shouting
or whipping would make them budge on inch. Koos “Helfet” just happened to
arrive on the scene and summing up the situation, he told the angry and
sweating farmer to calm down and allow him to take command. He scooped up a
handful of sand from the dusty main street, and approached the horses. While
talking quietly to them, he administered some of the sand into the hollows he
had created in their cheeks by inserting a finger where their kips met at the
back of the jaw, and then pulling the fleshy cheeks outwards creating the small
pouch he required for holding the sand.
Koos then stood aside, filled his pipe from a yellow
Springbok tobacco bag and commenced chatting to the impatient farmer and the
inevitable gathering of spectators. “Daardie blerrie perde sal net nou, net nou
vergeet on steeks te bly” (those bloody horses will now, now forget about being
stubborn) he assured them all. The animals were meanwhile busying themselves
working their tongues around to rid their teeth, gums and slobbering mouths of
the unpleasant grit. Within about ten minutes the drama was over. Koos signalled
the farmer a cheery “totsiens” (goodbye) and a flip of his whip sent the horses
trotting docilely away, their stubbornness forgotten. The lesson in psychology
Koos had taught was that “dom astrant”, stupid, stubborn behaviour, whether by
man or beast should be countered not by argument or attack, but by outsmarting
them with diversion.
Chapter
Seven
As this comprises a kaleidoscope of people, places,
events both historical and every day and of different cultures and times it
does perforce skip backwards and forwards over a period of about a hundred and
fifty years. While its main themes concern a particular Jewish family,
basically representing an ethnic group; Calvinia, a village and district
similar to many others in South Africa's platteland; a host of protagonists, it
also quite vividly illustrates the ongoing relationship between Afrikaners and
Jews. The arrival of a fair number of “uitlanders” in the platteland during the
19th and first half of the 20th century had a profound effect on a population,
which until then had been a sparsely dotted and isolated community. They
comprised in the main farmers with Afrikaans, a language derived from the Dutch
forebears, as a home language and of the Dutch Reformed Church faith. A
percentage of them had some knowledge of and spoke English, which had first
been officially introduced into Southern Africa when the Cape of Good Hope
surrendered to a British expeditionary force in 1795.
In the hinterland, Jews who were in comparatively
small pockets, often outnumbered the other uitlanders of European origin. They
were the leading “smouse” (peddlers), shopkeepers, produce merchants, hoteliers
and even the early unofficial “bankers”. They brought to he areas in which they
settled, services and facilities which had been sorely lacking.
In fact, before their arrival, the flow of
agricultural products to coastal markets and of consumer goods to the farmers
who grew them had been uncoordinated and had posed problems and often hardships
to the many who lived far from the cities and towns.
The impact of the Jew to the Afrikaner was to create
mutually beneficial results and to become an important factor in the gradual
emergence of more emancipated and sophisticated country communities. These
Jewish immigrants had left behind in Europe, homes and families living in
circumstances of racial and religious discrimination and in the main, depressed
economical conditions and lack of opportunities or a combination of all these
unhappy elements. But they did not come as parasites. In fact they were able to
enrich their new homeland with skills, enterprise, knowledge and of course
their age-old culture.
In South Africa, as in America, the Jew was greeted
initially with some curiosity, some suspicion and occasional rejection. But it
did not take long before he was accepted by the mainly English in the cities
and Afrikaners in the platteland as friends, welcome trading partners and
talented entrepreneurs. And history has shown that they have greatly assisted
and promoted the acceleration of the commerce and industry of their new
country, almost as if in payment for finding prospects for living in a happy
and free country where success or failure depend on the individual and not on
partisan or cruel government decrees. Their activities also accelerated an
intertwining of the interests of the country dwellers with those of the towns
and cities.
Stories told by my father and his fellow pioneers gave
fascinating insights into the conditions they found and of the people who had
befriended them in the strange new homeland where they had soon settled in so
happily and permanently. They had learned about the history and background of
these religious, hardy people and about farming under the sometimes benevolent,
but more often harsh taskmaster, Mother Nature. Possibly because of these early
contacts with people of the soil or perhaps through latent genes inherited from
Biblical ancestors, my father became a farmer too, years after reaching
Calvinia. When he walked through his wheat lands, inhaled the smell of freshly
mown lucerne (alfalfa) or watched his sheep being shorn, a glint would light up
his eyes and he would tell us how much more joy and satisfaction he derived
from being a producer rather than a consumer.
During the long years that he had traded with his
Afrikaner friends and customers and to whom, in the very nature of country
business, he had given credit facilities, he understood why many of them so
often ran into arrears in the payment of their debts. He had lived in their
midst and experienced with them, devastating droughts, floods, hailstorms,
locust invasions and other plagues. And he had often as a result, found himself
in serious financial difficulties because he had never unreasonably demanded
payments which might have ruined the farmers whom he had trusted to pay if and
when conditions improved.
But two of his many, many thoughtful and kindly
actions that were told to me years after his death indicated the reasons for
the respect and esteem he had earned in Calvinia.
Dr Willem P. Steenkamp Snr, a son of a prominent
farming family in the district, who during his life time has a Dutch Reformed
Church Minister, a medical doctor, a Member of Parliament representing Calvinia
and finally a Senator, told me a story of one of his experiences in World War
1. When General Manie Maritz who was in charge of the army garrison in Calvinia
went into rebellion after South Africa had joined the Allies in the 1914
declaration of war against Germany, young Wilem Steenkamp became one of the
rebels and was arrested and goaled (jailed) in Calvinia. His Jewish friend Leon
Helfet, who had remained loyal to the Government, nevertheless felt that he
should visit and succour is “enemy” friend in captivity. He paid visits and
took a camp stretcher to the gaol, with blankets, books and delicacies to make
his incarceration more bearable. “I shall never forget his kindness” Dr
Steenkamp told me many years later “particularly as my own relatives had not
been as thoughtful.”
Another anecdote in praise of my Father was recounted
to me about half a century after it had occurred, by Mrs Florrie Malan. She was
a daughter of his close Calvinia friend and prominent citizen, Mr Jack van
Dyjk. A Scotsman friend of her family had died suddenly at Calvinia leaving a
wife and young son penniless. And I quote from a letter sent to her by the
widow, who had rejoined her family in Scotland: “I always feel a warm glow when
I think of dear Mr. Helfet – do you know at the end of the month after my
husband's death, he sent me the account we had owed him 'fully receipted'.
The greatest event on the Dutch Reformed Church
calendar was and still is the October Nagmal (Holy Communion) which heralded
gatherings of families and friends form the furthers corners of the district.
Before the advent of the motor car, they arrived in Cape carts and covered
wagons and those who could not afford to own or lease nagmaal rooms would pitch
their tents on the village commonage and use wagons for extra living space.
This important annual event had three main purposes: being able to attend
church services which encompassed also marriages and confirmations; social
gatherings; reunions with relatives and friends last seen during a previous
Nagmaal; and “afrekening” (the settlement of accounts). with the shopkeepers.
Young men and women also made good use of this opportunity to meet members of
the opposite sex. Courting couples were seen holding hands and many romances
which began during this important week, resulted in marriages. Some of these
often taking place during the Nagmaal of the following year.
Farmers were accustomed to buying their farming and
household requirements throughout the year from their particular “algemene
handelaar (general dealer). These purchases and cash loans when required were
debited to their accounts, which in turn were credited with the value of the
produce delivered and sold to the shopkeeper. During the October Nagmaal week,
further shopping was done by all the family members and then the year's debts
and credits were calculated and accounts settled. After this, the wives would
traditionally receive presents from the shopkeepers – perhaps a fashionable new
hat, a living room ornament, a mantlepiece clock – always “something special”.
The big events in the Jewish calendar were the High
Holy days, the biblical New Year and the Day of Atonement, when the Jews of
Calvinia and surrounding villages, Brandvlei, Loeriesfontein, Niewoudtville and
farms like Middelpos and Klipwerf closed their businesses and enjoyed reunions
with family and friends in “the capital city”. Religious services were
conducted in the Kerksaal (church hall) until the congregation built a
beautiful new Shul (synagogue) in 1921.
There was consternation on both sides of the religious
fences one year when it was discovered in August that the dates of the October
Nagmaal would coincide with those of the Jewish High Holidays. At an emergency
meeting of the Hebrew Congregation it was decided that the Dutch Reformed
Church Kerkraad (church council) be petitioned to change their Nagmaal dates as
this was not possible with regard to the Hebrew Biblical calendar. The Kerkraad
in turn sent the request to the DRC authorities in Cape town, explaining that
hardships and inconveniences would be experienced by all, including their
congregants if the Jewish businesses were to be closed on the relative dates.
The impasse was successfully solved by the Nagmaal change of dates being
acceded to. This episode epitomizes the climate of co-operation and
understanding that prevailed in Calvinia between the two groups in those days.
A Dutch Reformed Church congregation was formally
established in Calvinia in 1847 and named by the Synod in Cape Town “Die Hantam
Gemeente” (the Hantam Congretation”) bearing the name of the majestic landmark,
The Hantam Mountain, just north of the town-to-be. The first dominee was a
Paarl born man, Dr H. L. de Villiers of Clanwilliam. Before this religious
historic event, the church and dominee of Clanwilliam, over 120 km from the
Hantam and more than twice that distance from the widely scattered farms in the
district, were required to attend to the spiritual needs of the approximately
3000 souls in the district.
“Huisebesoek” (house visits by the minister) would
perforce occur infrequently, perhaps once a year, by cart and horses. and to
illustrate the traveling difficulties involved, a visit from the Clanwilliam
dominee to the Hantam was calculated as a “distance” of 20 to 25 hours by
horse. This was bad enough, but before the Clanwilliam “gemeente” was
established in 1826, the nearest churches for Nagmaal and other religious
attendances were at Tulbagh and Swartlandskerk (Malmesbury today) – enormous
extra distances. For marriage ceremonies bridal couples were obliged to cover
up to and over 400 km to appear before the “Kommissarisse van Huweliksake”
(Commissioners of Marriage Affairs) in Cape Town.
As far back as the mid-eighteenth century, “explorers”
like Spaarman, Thunberg, Paterson and Masson visited and chronicled their
experiences and impressions of the deep North West Cape. They were followed by
Barrow (1798); Lichtenstein (1803); Burchell (1822); Blackhouse (1839) and
others.
Dr Martin Karl Heinrich (Henry) Lichtenstein, a
medical doctor from Germany, who spent some years in the Hantom and surrounding
districts, described in detail for posterity the names of prominent farmers,
their farms and of the type of people these Afrikaners were. In his “Travels in
South Africa in the years 1803, 1804, 1805 and 1806, Vol 1, pages 115 and 116,
he wrote about a visit to farms in the Voor Hantam by Commissioner General
(Magistrate) de Mist, his entourage and himself. I quote verbatim:
Soon after our arrival, several families
of the neighbourhood made their appearance, some in wagons, some on horseback,
attracted by curiosity to see a magistrate high in office, once in their lives.
Everyone brought with him some little present of game, or other things for the
table, which were no less thankfully received than they were courteously given.
We could not help being once more surprised to see so much natural good
breeding and civility, so much propriety in their modes of expressing
themselves, under such simple garments and among people living at distances of
60 miles from the capital, in a dry and solitary country fit only for the
breeding of cattle and half encircled by some of the wildest among savages of
the neighbouring districts. A couple of sturdy young lads whose eyes glistened
with health and contentment, delighted us very much with the eager manner in
which they related a number of hunting and traveling adventures they had met
with; and the effect was exceedingly increased by the concise, yet expressive
Afrikan Dutch language in which the relation was given. We had often the
opportunity of remarking that we never heard from the mouth of a colonist an
unseemly word. an overtrained expression, a curse or an imprecation of any
kind. The more I saw of these people, the more I was convinced of the truth of
this remark ...” The universally religious turn of the colonists, amounting
almost to bigotry, is, perhaps, a principal cause to which this command of
themselves is to be ascribed.” It may also be in some measure the result of
their living so extremely secluded from the world, a circumstance which
preserves them from temptation to many vices.”
But what pleased us above all things in
the good people of the Hantam District, was the amenity of disposition which
appeared in them towards each other. This was the first place where our active
chief (d.i. de Mist) had not been called upon to decide any differences among
the inhabitants.
In October 1851, four years after the establishment of
the Hantam Gemeente, the name of the village and thus also the DRC congregation
was formally changed and registered as “Calvinia” in memory of Calvin the
reformer. By this time there were 700 families requiring spiritual care and
they thinly populated an area 150km in width and 280 km in depth. Already by
1855, the church building had become too small to accommodate the whole
congregation and this applied in particular to the Nagmaal week when perishioners
from all parts of the vast territory it served gathered. Some travelled
distances of 50 to 60 “hours” to get to Calvinia in their wagons.
Quoting from the Congregational Centenary Anniversary
book 1847 – 1947, pages 65 and 66 (translated), one can visualise and
understand what happened in the still very small Calvinia village on those
occasions:
Some had arrived as early as Tuesday or
Wednesday and by Thursday, the majority had reached Calvinia. Round the church
and particularly on both sides of the present Church Street in the direction of
the site of the present hospital, there were rows and rows of “tentwaens” (tent
wagons) with tents, smoking fires and groups of chatting “ooms en tannies”
(uncles and aunts) dotted between. Reciprocal visits bwtween the waggons was
the order of the dy as most of their owners had seen each other only once in three
to six or 12 months at Nagmaal meetings. This was the opportunity to make the
most of social gatherings. Also the “predikant” (minister) used the opportunity
to do “huisbesoek” (pastoral visits) from tent to tent in preparation for the
nearing services. Fun and jollification particularly among the young people
livened the event. Thursday and Friday were used amont all these activities
also to do shopping and to settle accounts at the shops. And “worldly
transactions” were attended to. By Friday, evening non-religious matters would
have been concluded, because from Saturday morning onwards, the nagmaal
services commenced in earnest.
By 1892 the congregation comprised 2220 members and
4820 souls and was served by an outstanding “predikant”, Ds M. S. Daneel, who
wholeheartedly supported plans for the building of a new church. The existing
one could seat only 420 people. £4,500 had already been accumulated as a base
fund and in September 1899 the corner stone of a new building was laid with
great pomp and ceremony. Although the “Tweede Vryheidsoorlog (Anglo Boer war)
broke out 14 days later, the building committee pressed on with their plans and
in November 1900, a beautiful new church was consecrated by Ds Daneel. He was a
fine sportsman and a member of the 1892 Springbok rugby team which played the
first English touring side. The Available 1200 sears were far from sufficient
to accommodate the large crowd assembled for this historic event. The building
had cost £12,000 of which only £2,800 had still to be raised.
Damage to the old church building during the war
amounted to £636 which amount was received as “Government compensation” to
cover the cost of repairs. The building was then sold to a consortium of
farmers who used it to establish a general dealers business, which was named
“De Boer Winkel” (The farmers' shop). This did not prove to be a successful
venture and the owners were pleased to sell it a few years later as a going
concern to Leon Helfet, who retained the same name at their request.
Although men of Jewish descent were involved from
before the advent of Jan van Riebeeck in the establishment of the country,
which was eventually to become the Republic of South Africa, this was not known
by either the Jewish immigrants who had found a new home in the platteland
during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries or by the Afrikaners amongst whom
they settled.
However, as early as the turn of the 19th century,
Jewish traders were visiting the North West Cape and bartering consumer goods
for farm produce and money. But the first Jewish shopkeeper to be chronicled by
name was a German immigrant, Louis Heilbrunn, who, in 1843 established himself
in the hamlet 8 years before it was named “Calvinia”. It is believed that he
hired the premises belonging to two other German Jews named Goldsmidt and
Sussholtz. Heilbrunn was joined by another German Jew, Gustave Wetzler and
their partnership business was in turn bought in 1863 by a fifth German Jew,
Louis Rosenblatt, when Heilbrunn retired to Cape Town after trading for 20
years in Calvinia.
The Calvinia Jewish congregation, one of the earliest
and most influential in the Cape hinterland, played a significant part in the
development of and in putting this enormous district, which was more than twice
the size of modern-day Israel, on the South African map. And Louis Rosenblatt
was one of the hardy pioneers whose family saga in Calvinia involved three
generations over an unbroken 106 years, possibly the longest of any Jewish
family in a South African rural community. The firm which had in the course of
its existence been named L. Rosenblatt and Co, after a partnership including
two other family names, Hammerschlag and Sanders, was formed.
These three families were cultured leaders, who gave
of themselves in virtually all spheres of activity. Max Rosenblatt, grandson of
Louis, one of the town's most popular residents, was also to be one of the last
of its once large, flourishing Jewish community. When he liquidated the family
business and left in 1969 aged 82, he was in fact the oldest male resident who
had been born in Calvinia.
The history of the Jewish congregation which existed
in Calvinia for over 150 years also had its ups and downs. Few in numbers and
spread throughout the vast district, they managed somehow to maintain their
allegiances to the faith of their biblical ancestors without the aid of a
minister and the use of a synagogue. However, as most of the men had learned
Hebrew and to read or chant all the traditional prayers while still in school
in either Germany or Lithuania (home of the later immigrants), one of them would
usually volunteer to lead a service in a private home whenever a “minyan” (10
or more men) was able to gather on the Sabbath or Holy days.
Although there was as yet no Rabbi or Minister it is
known that there had already in 1905 been a “shochet” (man trained to slaughter
animals according the laws of Kashrut) serving the community. This came about
as Sara Levine, fiancé of my father had agreed to leave Liverpool to settle in
Calvinia as his wife on the condition that she would be able to maintain a
kosher home and eat kosher meat. My father and his friends with great
difficulty, found and engaged a “shochet”.
In 1904, the Jewish leaders, M Rosenblatt, D Sack and L Helfet arranged a meeting of their co-religionists to establish the Calvinia Hebrew Congregation. There were 47 members by 1916 and by the early 1920's the community numbered over 100 souls and was to flourish as a comparatively large and influential group until after World War II in the 1940's. The rise of the Grey Shirt Nazi sympathetic movement in the district was the major cause of Jewish flight from the town at that time.