Odessa, Part 1: Coming Back Around

“Odessa has always been more accepting of Jews,” a local resident commented to Claims Conference program officer Diana Kogan. “It’s a port city, giving it a much more diverse population, so it’s not terribly surprising that Jews are so accepted.” Leading up to the opening ceremony of the Jewish community center, a decorated tram made its way through the city, playing Klezmer music which heralded the auspicious event. Standing outside the new building, “Beit Grand,” at the ribbon-cutting ceremony, the Odessa resident commented to Diana that the Jews had come far, as illustrated by the ceremony. They had permission to temporarily disrupt the tram system, close off the street, and blast Jewish music for all to hear. Local residents admitted there is still antisemitism, but quickly qualified that it is not as bad as in some other places.

Just after World War I Odessa had a Jewish population of approximately 250,000, which accounted for 50 percent of the city’s inhabitants. The Jews were a thriving and vibrant community; there were 60 synagogues and Jewish thinkers and businesses flourished. Indeed, the Jews were so numerous they were able to support the manufacturing of their own goods. An iron in the local Jewish museum bears a Star of David – it was made with pride by a Jewish manufacturer, as was the typewriter and the sewing machine also on display.

By 1939, however, the Jewish population had dwindled to about 180,000, roughly 30 percent of Odessa’s total population. Many fled the city before its siege and surrender to the Axis powers in 1941, but more than 80,000 Jews still remained under the new Romanian rule. About half of the Jews who remained were shot or burned alive, while the remaining half was deported to the Dalnik and Slobodka ghettos where many died of exposure, disease and starvation before further deportations to the camps. Today, out of a general population of over 1 million, there are 35,000 Jews in Odessa, including about 7,000 Nazi victims.

Beneath Odessa lies a web of tunnels and man-made catacombs in which you can easily get lost. Dark, gloomy and silent, the partisans hid there during World War II. There is a “communication” well in the tunnels — a pail with a false bottom where the partisans concealed messages. There is a story about a young partisan, a child, that had been caught, but was able to jerk on the rope of the pail, signaling his urgent need for help…and he was saved. And, of course, there were Jews among the partisans who were forced by circumstances to live among the catacombs. When someone gave the partisans away, Germans bombed the entrance to the tunnels and tried to smoke the partisans out, but the partisans persevered.

While in Odessa for the opening of ‘Beit Grand,’ Diana also met with survivors. Their stories to come in subsequent posts.

Part of a sister city program that pairs cities in geographically and politically distinct areas to promote cultural and commercial ties, Odessa is paired with the port cities of Baltimore, MD, USA; Liverpool, England, UK; Haifa, Israel; and Marseille, France, among others.

The Tram pulls up in front of the crowd ouside Beit Grand as the opening ceremony begins.

Onlookers watch the opening ceremony from a balcony in Beit Grand.

Manufactured by Jews in Odessa, the iron bears a Star of David.

A Siddur and Tefillin in the Jewish museum in Odessa

Trees line the walk, each one dedicated to an individual who perished.

Memorial to those killed in the Holocaust

Monument to the victims of the Odessa massacre. It usually refers to the October 22 – October 24, 1941 dates on which between 25,000 and 34,000 Jews were shot or burned alive.