Shtetl Uniontown

By Rabbi Arnie Fine

Today the term shtetl brings up the picture of a small town in Eastern Europe, with a traditional Jewish community from a century or so ago —Annatevka from Fiddler on the Roof. In my experience there were and still are shtetlach (plural of shtetl) all over the world, whose inhabitants work to maintain Jewish life in small towns, often isolated by distance from Jewish centres, who struggle to live and thrive as Jews. The people do not look like they are from Annetevka but are no less dedicated. I was a rabbi in one of them.

When I received my semikha in 1966, the USA was still very involved in Viêt Nam. Some of my classmates were conscripted into the Armed Services as chaplains. Those of us who were not called up, had the responsibility to become the rabbis of small, rather isolated congregations. Where Chevy and I, along with our then 2-year-old son, settled was Uniontown in southwestern Pennsylvania, 80 kilometers south of Pittsburgh, only about 30 kilometers from the University of West Virginia. This is a region called Appalachia, a beautiful, fascinating but problemetic part of the United States of America, which is encompassed by several states. It was and probably still is relatively poor. The major industry in those days was mining soft, bituminous coal, which was coked. When coking happened the sky turned red from the open flames. At one time there were 33 millionaire coal barons in the town. It was in its transition phase when we arrived, but the Jewish community was quite comfortable financially.

The Jewish community was interesting, then about 300 families. I am not certain when it was founded but probably sometime in the early years of the twentieth century. Many who settled there made their livings by peddling in the various coal patches, villages where coal mining was the reason for their being. These communities were dominated by the company store, which maintained certain prices and gave credit and was unforgiving. Remember the song of the 1950-60’s, “16 tons and what you get... I owe my soul to the company store.” It reflected the reality of these little communities. The peddlers, many Jewish, were a bit cheaper and they also gave credit which was a bit less problematic and perhaps a bit forgiving. While we were there, Jewish peddling was still a reality. However, they no longer walked with a pack on their back or with horses and wagons but drove cars and vans loaded with merchandise. In several of the coal areas the peddlers opened stores and went into competition with the company store. These enterprises were known as Jew stores and the proprietors were very respected. They prospered. Others opened businesses in Uniontown proper. There were two department stores with distinctive Jewish names. The main street had shops with Jewish names. The Jewish population had done well economically. When we were in Uniontown there were at least two pharmacists, several physicians, department heads at the local hospital, dentists, a veterinarian, owners of general stores, bars, a bank owner to name a few. There was a kosher butcher, who also provided a wide range of kosher grocery products. There were two congregations, one Reform and one that was nominally Conservative, with a few people who claimed Orthodoxy. Two synagogue buildings were a few blocks from each other. Each had an afternoon religious school. Each had a cemetery,

each had a Hevra Kaddisha. Both maintained regular tefillah and my shul also had shiva minyanim when needed and, of course a kosher kitchen. And yes, there were two newly minted rabbis. There was healthy competition between the institutions. There was also a Jewish

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Continued from page 23 Community Centre, with a kosher kitchen, and the largest swimming pool in the area, which had perhaps 50,000 citizens in the town and surrounding area and villages. Often Jewish travelers would come to the town on their way south. If they needed a bit of financial help, the local United Jewish Appeal, which was run by volunteers, would get them a room at a local hotel, the rabbis’ wives would invite them to dinner and there was a ticket to their next destination.

While we were there, a few neighboring towns had tiny Jewish communities, which closed down because of deaths and no new Jewish residents. I was involved in closing one of them. Another had moved to Uniontown. Of course, generally the young people of the Jewish community went away for university, but many never returned to live in Uniontown. Unfortunately, at least while we were there, there were many funerals and few to replace the deceased.

A major responsibility of the rabbi was as teacher for the children, to provide courses and classes for the adults. He was the preacher, who conducted services on Shabbat and Yom tov. We had a Shabbat morning minyan and every Friday evening, what was then called, the late Friday evening service. The general community was always curious about us, even in a generally Protestant fundamentalist milieu and a large Catholic community, and the local rabbis were often invited to speak to groups in churches, schools or civic clubs. Among the other duties of the rabbi of my shul was the supervision of kashrut in the shul and the community centre.

When I think of the two years that we were in Uniontown, I am quite impressed with what we found and hopefully added. We saw the dedication of the community as a whole in maintaining the institutions, the goal of passing on who they are to their children, the generally positive response of the kids, the time and effort invested in the welfare of the Jewish enterprise. I had relationships in Canada with similar tiny communities and saw the same drive, the same concerns, the desires and the readiness to realise them. Uniontown was and hopefully still is emblematic of the spirit which maintains Klal Yisrael. These small communities also add to the staying power of Jewish life, wherever Jews are to be found. A