It Fell On My Head

I can't remember exactly when this happened, but it was in summer and Michael was in Europe, in Prague, I believe, taking some classes at the university there. While in that area, he decided to research the Reidbord family's (my mother's side) roots in Lithuania. The Reidbord brothers came from a town called Merich. It is a lonely place now, with few Jews. So Hitler was partially successful--Michael's comment.

He was able to find the synagogue in Merich. It was Shabbos, a Saturday afternoon. The rabbi sat at his desk, studying, when Michael came in. Michael introduced himself but the rabbi didn't speak English. Fortunately Michael speaks many languages and is fluent in French and the rabbi spoke French too. Michael told him that he was researching his mother's family's roots in Merich and if there were any written records of the families who had attended the synagogue he would like to see them.

The rabbi expressed sorrowfully that it was Shabbos and the synagogue's record book was stored away on the top shelf of the room. Reaching up to get the book would be considered work. Disappointed, Michael turned to leave when he heard faint scuffling noises. He turned back to see the rabbi beaming, holding out the book of records of the synagogue. Michael grasped it. The rabbi said, shrugging his shoulders: "It fell on my head!"

You couldn't refuse a nice Jewish boy access to his mother's family records, could you? Coming all the way from the United States?! Even if it was Shabbos.

Addendum: A puzzle was finally solved. There was a kind of aggrement between my mother and her sisters and my sister plus me: the name Reidbord must mean "red beard" because so many of us have red hair. The rabbi in the synagogue put an end to all speculation; Reidbord does mean "red beard."