A dusty sefer in a Boca genizah connected me to ancestors in a way I’d never imagined
She gasped.
“I know this house!”
It was just down the street from the town hall. She and the deputy mayor walked us there. The house had been a night school in the ’90s. Now it now belonged to a local church.
We turned the corner — and I froze. It was the house.
Same windows. Same sloping roof. Same backdrop.
My grandmother and her family had spent time in this home. As we opened the gate, walked the perimeter, explored the backyard, looked in the windows and stood at the front door, I felt a tremendous connection to her, picturing the people, experiences and conversations that happened there.
After leaving Bushtyno, we visited Munkacs, Chust, and Mád — towns that once boasted a vibrant Jewish life and were now eerily quiet.
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