R' Yosef and Rachel Kohen
A Biographical Sketch by Their Children

Our father, R' Yosef Kohen, z”l, was born in Waitzen near Budapest in 5656 (1896).

He was the son of R' Moshe Eliyahu, z”l, and Tzirel, daughter of the gaon Rav Binyamin Ze'ev Kohen, the rav of Baden near Vienna and the author of Bazach Levona.

Our grandfather owned a printing press where he printed holy books, among them Maasai LaMelech by the brilliant Rav Yeshayahu Zilberstein, zt”l, Chief Rabbi of Waitzen. Grandfather also had a gravestone engraving business. He ran both these businesses from his home in Waitzen with its large courtyard, and we had the good fortune of visiting this house a number of times as children. Father married mother, Rachel (Ragina) Lazar from Vienna in early 5689 (1928). She was born in 5666 (1906), the daughter of R' Michael (Max, Mikshe), hy”d, and Yiska Lazar, z”l. Grandmother Yiska passed away while her daughters were still quite young.

We know very little about our father's life before his marriage beyond the fact that he studied in the yeshivas of Hunsdorf and Galanta with the brilliant Rav Yosef Tzvi Dushinsky, zt”l.

During the First World War father was drafted into the Austrian Army. Shortly after the war, he made his way to the land of Israel with two friends whose names we do not know. The three lived together. Each of them found work and they eventually succeeded in accumulating a significant amount of money. They returned to Waitzen during the short reign of Communist ruler Bela Kun in order to help their families whose homes had been pillaged and plundered in the wake of an anti-Communist uprising at the nearby central prison. After their marriage, our parents lived in Vienna until the Nazis came to power. There, father ran a printing business with his brother Kalman, hy”d, who was later murdered with his family in the Holocaust.

The events of the tenth day of Second Adar, 5698 (March 12, 1938) remain etched in our memory. On this day, the Nazi regime annexed Austria, an act known as the Anschluss. Fortunately, father traveled to Hungary on that very morning, before anything was known of the Anschluss. Thereafter, mother, because she was a citizen of Austria, managed to travel from Vienna to Hungary a number of times, each time bringing one of the children, so that the entire family was reunited in Tevet, 5700 (winter of 1940). We remained in Budapest until immigrating to the Land of Israel, the children in 5708 (1948) and father in 5713 (1953).

Family life in Budapest was anything but easy. Our status was akin to that of refugees, which meant that it was illegal for father to work. We were forced to cut back on all luxuries, and the entire family (we were six in all) lived and slept in one small room. Very little of what we had owned in Vienna remained. Our silverware was stolen en route, but we still possessed our holy books, and father studied them unabatedly.

During this period, mother labored painstakingly to maintain impeccable order and cleanliness both in the home and in our personal appearance, all the while fostering a pleasant atmosphere and strengthening our spirits. It was this alone that made normal life possible. We were even able to take in a yeshiva student for meals. Father was adamant in this regard, and as a result we became aware of the importance of supporting the Torah from a young age

All of us learned in schools run by the Orthodox community. The boys learned in a cheder (religious elementary school) called Torat Emet, and the girls learned in its sister school. We were thus educated to view Torah study and religious observance as life's central pillar and to hold Torah scholars in the highest esteem. Life's many hardships did not prevent us from rejoicing on Sabbaths and festivals; we even lamented the destruction of the Temple during the Three Weeks culminating with Tisha B'av.

And so, we enjoyed a pleasant yet modest life until everything came to a terrifying halt during the final stages of the war, in the winter of 5705 (1944-5).

On 16 Tishrei (October 16, 1944), the second day of Sukkot, father was taken away and put to forced labor. A number of days later, on 21 Tishrei, Hoshanah Rabbah, mother was also taken away, together with many other women, and we were never to see her again. It appears that she was part of a death march from which none returned. We received a postcard from her that was sent from a place close to the Austrian border, and in it she informed us of her well-being. The Nazis apparently forced their victims to send such notices. At any rate, this was the last sign of life from her.

Father, who, as said, had been put to forced labor, discerned that he and his fellow laborers were fated to death. In addition, he saw the women being taken away and believed that mother was among them, and if this were the case, he reasoned, there was nobody looking after the children. Father decided to try to escape, despite the peril involved in such an act; he reasoned that by doing this he could only gain, for there was nothing to lose.

With God's help, father succeeded in escaping and he reached home about three weeks after his abduction, probably in the month of Cheshvan (November). However, shortly after his return, another search was carried out in our apartment building. They were looking for men who had evaded forced labor, and it was announced that if any such person were found he would immediately be put to death. Father decided not to comply. He hid himself as well as he could in the apartment, next to the holy books, and told us to wait outside. The search began on the top floor, and our apartment was on the bottom. When they finally reached our apartment, a non-Jewish woman who lived in the building and was responsible for its upkeep said to the searchers, "Oh, these filthy people, only the children remain. There's nothing more to look for here." Satisfied with this information, the searchers went on their way, and father was saved once again.

After this event father hid himself in a number of different places. It was too dangerous for a Jew to remain at home. Many sought refuge in houses under the aegis of the Red Cross or the Swedish Delegation (Raoul Wallenberg). We children stayed in one such house, called "Columbus," and father was in a different house. Eventually the Hungarian Nazis searched the house where father was staying and rounded up those who had taken refuge there. About sixty Jews were taken to a pit and lined up along its edge. Then they were shot one after the other so that the dead fell into the pit. When they fired at the man standing next to father, father threw himself before his neighbor at the moment of the gunshot so that he and the dead fell into the pit together. Then, when the firing was over and things became quiet, he crawled out of the pit, bribed a policeman, and returned to our house in the ghetto.

We children were evicted from Columbus about two weeks after we had arrived, and we reached home a short time before father, probably in the month of Kislev (late November or early December). That was when they closed off the ghetto. It was forbidden to enter or leave, and anybody who attempted to do so was likely to pay with his life.

In the end, Budapest was heavily bombed. Most residents, including those in the ghetto, sat in basements that provided no protection whatsoever against direct hits. But we children remained at home.

The liberation came with winter's end, 5705 (1945), but we continued to suffer at the hands of Russian soldiers who, while not endangering our lives, embittered them considerably. At that time, our oldest brother, Binyamin Yehudah, was learning in a yeshiva in Bekescsaba, in southeast Hungary; our oldest sister, Chayah Sarah, was at home with father most of the time; and the two youngest, Aharon and Miriam, were in children's institutions. This continued to be the state of things until we finally left Hungary.

Following the holidays of 5709 (late 1948), we set out for Israel via France, where we were delayed for a number of weeks. Father remained in Budapest until he was able to overcome restrictions imposed by the communist regime, and then he moved to Vienna for a number of years. We do not know how father spent these years in Vienna, however, Rav Pashkes, head of the Givat Shaul Yeshiva (located today in the Givat Moshe neighborhood, Jerusalem), tells us that as a youngster in Vienna he used to attend Torah lessons given by our father, and it was these lessons that inspired him to dedicate his life to Torah study and the world of the yeshiva.

In Israel, we shared the fate of many other children our age, struggling on the one hand to make ends meet, and on the other to maintain a life of Jewish faith and observance. Many youngsters were unable to endure such trials. For us, though, this was when the education we received at home proved itself, for we managed to retain laudable character traits in the face of life's many challenges, and we were especially scrupulous about behaving like Torah observant Jews.

Father reached Israel as planned, in the winter of 5713 (March, 1953), yet he did not have the good fortune of living very long upon her soil. About two months later, on the night of Lag B'Omer (18 Iyyar; May 3), he passed away suddenly. Father was buried in the Zichron Meir Cemetery, and his grave is very close to those of Rav Avraham Yeshayahu Karelitz (the Chazon Ish), Rav Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky (the Steipler), and other important Torah scholars.

During those two months, we saw him dedicate most of his time to Torah study. He met frequently with his uncle, the righteous Rav Shlomo Friedman, zt"l, who was Zeidy Bazach's son-in-law and successor as rav of Baden. Rav Friedman was the husband of father's aunt, Esther. Father had the good fortune of seeing his first granddaughter, the daughter of his oldest daughter, Miriam, and this was the final comfort of his life.