Yael Tzur, March 2006
Yaakov was my first music teacher. In my memory, I see him moving slowly across the elementary school yard in Tel Mond, carrying his accordion. His schoolbag was filled with sheets of music. On each sheet was an Israeli song - songs that reflected the spirit of those times: songs of the homeland, songs of love for the land, songs about flowers and life in Israel. These songs connected us, the students, to what was happening in the country and instilled in us a deep love and belief in our homeland.
Music lessons were my favorite. I loved to sing. The music class was refreshing - a break that allowed for emotional expression and personal creativity.
Yaakov always made sure to bring in the newest and most popular songs of the time. Songs I learned with him remain etched in my memory to this day, as if they’ve become part of my own repertoire.
Yaakov also cared about our musical education. He taught every child in class to play the recorder.
In those lessons, we learned from the works of composers like Sambursky and Admon, among others. Yaakov developed a special method to teach music notation to any student who wanted to learn. Many children found it difficult to learn note placement, so he marked them with special signs to help students play from written text more easily.
Yaakov supported every student who showed musical talent - whether in singing, playing an instrument, reciting, diction, or rhythm. As a result, there were always gifted students around him. They were given opportunities to perform at school events, celebrations, and ceremonies. Through this, Yaakov was able to nurture each child according to their talents and give them a place to shine.
The Tel Mond school choir was a distinguished institution. Rehearsals were held after school, so participation was entirely voluntary. The choir won many national awards.
Work in the choir was disciplined. Each student had to perform the song precisely. Yaakov would walk among the students, his ear like a radar, picking up every note and every tone. He would correct anyone who was off-key - sometimes in a way that embarrassed the singer.
For me, participating in the choir was a wonderful experience and a great source of pride - being part of a grand creation that produced heavenly music.
Occasionally, Yaakov would enrich the choir’s performances by including his wife, Ashira, whose singing allowed us students to hear a true vocalist with a bell-like voice.
Yaakov had a rare gift for recognizing struggling students - those who had difficulties in their studies - and he made an effort to help them in all areas of life, even outside school. He knew how to listen to them, treat them with respect, and offer support. He assigned them roles to give them a sense of importance and belonging. He often invited students to his home and tended to their physical needs - personal hygiene, meals, even school supplies. The school principal recognized Yaakov’s devotion and allowed him to teach a class composed entirely of students in need. Yaakov poured his soul into that classroom, bringing joy and pride through music.
As a neighbor of the Berg family, I was able to get to know them more closely and feel the rhythm of their home. A typical scene: Yaakov sitting at the piano, playing various pieces, the entire house wrapped in music. Anyone who entered was invited to sing, dance, and enjoy. Yaakov often recorded songs from the radio and, in doing so, always kept up with the latest tunes. I remember the first time he played for me the song “Yerushalayim Shel Zahav” - it felt like it came from another world.
Yaakov and Ashira performed frequently at singing evenings and on the radio (there was no television yet). At the time, live vocal music was very common. Yaakov would ride his Vespa scooter with Ashira on the back. In the scooter’s trunk was the accordion, and together they traveled across Israel. We often listened to them on the radio and felt proud of them.
Ashira and Yaakov were a symbol of cultural harmony. Today they would be called the ultimate couple - a blend of East and West. Yaakov was the musically educated one: precise, creative, and the guiding force. Ashira was the gifted young woman with a beautiful and unique voice, eager to absorb all that Western culture had to offer. She often sang arias from operas and sentimental Italian songs.
Shortly before retiring, Yaakov expanded his work and began teaching at the school in Even Yehuda. There, too, he was known for enriching the school’s musical and cultural atmosphere.
An educator, a man of the working settlement movement, a dedicated and active member of the party and the working class - and above all, a man of deep emotion.
David found his calling in the teaching profession, educating the younger generation to feel a profound connection to their homeland, their village, and their community, all guided by the ideals and values of the working settlement movement. Economic considerations were always a guiding principle in his educational work. During the “busy season,” he was attentive to parents and students alike, adapting the school to current needs, even releasing students - and sometimes entire classes - for urgent agricultural work.
In his early youth, David was a yeshiva student. He later completed his general and pedagogical education at a teachers’ seminary in Poland. In 1920, he was among the founders of the Yavneh school of the “Tarbut” organization in the town of Prochiany. During this period, he also participated in agricultural training with a group called “Petach Tikva” on land leased from the local priest, fulfilling his great love for nature and plant life - a passion that accompanied him all his life. He made sure that every school he worked in had a garden, which he cultivated together with his students.
David immigrated to Palestine in 1925. His first teaching job was at the school in Balfouria, after which he moved to serve as principal of the school in Bat Galim, Haifa.
While still in Haifa, he joined the founding core group of Moshav Herut.
In 1934, the first settlers of the Tel Mond bloc left the temporary neighborhood - the Tel Mond labor camp - and laid the foundations for their villages. At the time, there was a modest school for the handful of children from the first settlers. The school was poor and underdeveloped, and its teaching staff was not suitable to become the foundation of a regional school. Back then, regional schools were not in fashion, and the few that did exist were regarded as unproven experiments. Veteran settlers opposed regional educational institutions for social reasons.
Tel Mond at that time was a remote corner, with poor access roads and far from other Jewish settlements, making it unlikely to attract experienced teachers, who were scarce in the country anyway. There was therefore understandable concern among community leaders for the fate of the school. However, among the new settlers were a number of experienced teachers who formed a competent staff with promising prospects for the 1935 school year.
David, who stood out as the most knowledgeable and experienced among the teachers, was appointed principal and teacher at the school. Within just a few months, he succeeded in uniting the teaching staff, and the school grew rapidly, becoming a respected institution recognized by all public bodies involved in education. Pedagogical council meetings - which included local kindergarten teachers - turned into enrichment evenings, where David guided young teachers with warmth and empathy. David devoted most of his time to the school and identified completely with its needs. He maintained close ties with parents, both in private meetings and in public gatherings, helping to instill in them a basic understanding of educational issues and the role of the school in general, and within moshav society in particular.
The school’s holiday celebrations under David’s direction became central social events for the entire Tel Mond bloc, gaining a strong reputation throughout the area for their educational and artistic content. Shavuot was celebrated in the school’s large courtyard, attended by all residents of the bloc. Hanukkah was celebrated in the school hall, where students and their parents packed in tightly.
In 1952 (Hebrew year 5712), the school had already grown and produced several successful graduating classes with a well-known reputation. A major wave of immigration reached Tel Mond, bringing children from many diaspora communities. A transit camp (ma’abara) was established, and the school had to absorb hundreds of children who had never received basic Hebrew education, and whose home environments lacked educational support. It became clear that not all could be absorbed into the existing school, and that a new school had to be established for the immigrant children. The Ministry of Education agreed to this plan on one condition: that David Gilboa would serve as the new school’s principal. The Ministry insisted on this condition because they knew that under David’s leadership, the new school would have a proper chance to succeed.
When the division of the joint school in the Tel Mond bloc between the regional council (Hefer Valley) and the local Tel Mond council was being debated, David was one of the fiercest opponents of the split. His opposition was not motivated by a desire for control or status - these were far from his concerns - but from the belief that youth must be united and integrated, and that they should not fall victim to municipal conflicts. All of his efforts to prevent this separation, which went against his principles, failed. When the physical barrier - a fence - was eventually erected between the two schools, David suffered deeply, empathizing with the pain of the children who stood face-to-face on either side of the fence.
David was active in many public initiatives. Thanks to his outstanding public speaking skills, he would deliver speeches and eulogies, honoring those who had passed away.
David possessed a rare ability: he could engage deeply with social issues without becoming entangled in arguments or conflicts.
On Yom Kippur, he would gather residents of the moshav in the kindergarten grove in Herut to discuss educational matters, emphasizing the day as one appropriate for soul-searching.
He devoted significant time to managing the local branch of the Mapai party in the Tel Mond bloc and was also active in labor union affairs.
In 1960, David retired from his role as school principal, but continued his public service in village leadership and ran Bible study groups throughout the bloc’s communities. He also dedicated time to growing ornamental plants, especially bulbs and tubers. His pride and joy were the various species of narcissus, which he cherished and cultivated with great love.
On the 24th of Kislev, the eve of Hanukkah (December 26, 1967), David passed away at the age of 67. He died a “kiss of death” beside the Bible, which was his lifelong passion and which he studied “day and night.”
David is no longer with us, but his work and spirit continue to live on in the village and throughout the bloc - and will continue to do so for many years to come.
Esterin’s character was shaped in the shadow of world wars, the Holocaust, his deep faith in Judaism and its values, and a profound respect for human dignity.
Eliezer Esterin was born in 1914 in the city of Polotsk, in what is now Belarus - the very year World War I began. The war years were marked by suffering, hardship, and hunger for his family. His father, a teacher in Warsaw, was separated from the family - then under German occupation - and was only reunited with them after the war ended, four years later.
Eliezer’s first school was a cheder metukan (“modern cheder”) where the day was divided: half dedicated to religious studies, and the other half to general secular education. After completing the cheder, he went on to high school, where he also followed a dual curriculum - general and Jewish studies. He completed high school in 1932 and continued to study history at university. His final thesis was on “The Study of the Jewish Community of Zamość,” his childhood city. His university degree qualified him to teach history and Jewish studies at the high school level.
He taught at a high school in Warsaw until 1939, when World War II broke out.
Warsaw was occupied by the Germans, and anti-Jewish decrees and persecution began almost immediately.
The Esterin family decided that Eliezer must flee to the Soviet Union to save his life. His parents believed that they themselves were not in danger, and the rest of the family remained in Warsaw.
The fate of Polish Jewry - and the Esterin family among them - was tragic: they were all murdered in the Holocaust.
In the Soviet Union, the Jews continued fleeing the Nazi threat, heading east to Central Asia. Wherever Eliezer stayed - even for a short time - he would immediately integrate into the local educational system, striving to provide children with knowledge and education under the shadow of war.
In 1945, at the end of the war, he met his future wife Dora. They married and returned together to Poland, which had become a vast Jewish cemetery. With no surviving family, Eliezer and Dora continued to wander with the waves of refugees across war-torn Europe, on their way to the Land of Israel. In every refugee camp they passed through, Eliezer continued to teach children Hebrew and the history of the Jewish people, preparing them for immigration.
In 1949, the Esterin family arrived in Israel. Their first home was a tent in the Beit Lid transit camp.
From there, Eliezer set out across the country in search of work as a teacher. He eventually arrived in Tel Mond, where he found a warm and welcoming environment and was hired by the regional joint school.
The reality was far from easy. In addition to the economic hardships faced by any new immigrant - housing and livelihood - he also had to adapt to unfamiliar teaching methods and a new educational atmosphere, very different from what he had known in Europe.
Helping him through this difficult period of adjustment was the school principal at the time, David Gilboa.
Esterin quickly became part of the school’s life and culture, bringing with him his gentle manner, good spirit, and vast knowledge. His work did not end when the bell rang. After regular hours, he continued to teach at the Beit HaNaara (Girls’ Home), a residential school in the moshav Ein Vered for girls in distress. There, he served not only as a teacher but as a father figure, radiating warmth and care.
He also founded an evening school for working youth and opened Hebrew language classes for adult immigrants - a community Tel Mond was blessed with.
In 1968, Esterin was appointed principal of the local school. Administrative duties brought him little joy; the budgetary and bureaucratic challenges, along with conflicts between the local and regional schools, made the work difficult. He was, after all, a man who loved direct interaction with his students - not the burdens of administration.
When the two schools were eventually reunited, Esterin retired and turned to the things he had always loved - history, Judaism, and public life. He served on the Tel Mond council, gave lectures at senior centers, and wrote about current affairs.
Esterin was always engaged with others - a man of conversation who could speak with anyone. He had a shared language with every person, always greeted others warmly, and never harbored resentment. He was involved in both everyday politics and lofty matters of the world, discussing and debating in speech and writing across a wide range of people and topics. He invested his talent and love for history in researching the history of the Tel Mond bloc, interviewing old - timers and collecting materials that would later serve as a foundation for the bloc’s documentation center.
We will always remember Esterin as a lover of humanity, warm-hearted, humorous, steeped in Jewish tradition and knowledge, and eager to share the best of his treasures with others.
He passed away in the year 2000.
The life story of Zvi Zevulun Weinberg is rich in content. Though many of his writings are autobiographical in nature, they could easily form the basis for a sweeping novel spanning his long journey “in a foreign land” and “among my people.”
He descended from a large and deeply rooted Polish family, tracing his lineage back to Avraham Yaakov Stern (1769–1842), one of the pioneers of the Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment) movement in Poland. Stern was a Torah scholar, Hebrew writer, mathematician, and inventor - famed for creating a calculating machine capable of performing the four basic arithmetic operations, fractions, and extracting square roots. He demonstrated this machine to the Society of Science Enthusiasts in Warsaw, and later to Tsar Alexander I, who provided him with support and a government salary.
Zvi’s childhood and youth were marked by hardship. He endured life’s bitterness, poverty, and deprivation, studying Torah “with bread and salt, and water by measure” under the rabbi of Gostynin.
By his thirties, Zvi was a family man and certified not only as a rabbi but also as a teacher, having completed Hebrew teacher training courses in Grodno. He earned a modest living teaching private lessons and working in high schools - first in Suwałki, and later at the “Chinuch” gymnasium in Warsaw. Gradually, he also carved out a path in Hebrew literature.
A proud Jew, Weinberg could not bear the indignities he faced and, in 1920, immigrated to Eretz Israel with his beloved daughter Sonia, of blessed memory. He spent a year in the country, serving as the principal of the school in Zikhron Ya’akov. There, he introduced modern educational methods and fought fiercely against proponents of outdated practices of corporal punishment. After one year, he returned to Poland - not by choice, but due to various delays in bringing his whole family to Israel. He remained “in foreign lands” until 1934.
During those fourteen years in Poland, Weinberg was remarkably active. He founded the “Association of Hebrew Writers and Journalists in Warsaw” and served as its first chair. He was deputy of the Polish PEN Club and one of the leading activists in the “Tarbut” movement. Together with his brother, Dr. Shmuel Weinberg, he founded the “Askola” gymnasium in Warsaw and helped shape its Zionist-Hebrew character.
The daily newspaper Hazman, published in Vilna in 1905, was the first to publish Weinberg’s early works, encouraged by its editor Barashdetsky (see “Footsteps” in the book Matter and Spirit). From then on, his stories appeared in Hameorer (edited by Brenner) and various literary collections. He contributed to Sifrut, Reshafim (edited by Lachower and Frischmann), Hatzfira, Torah, Hatekufa (edited by Lachower and Tchernichovsky), Gilyonot (edited by Lamdan), Atidot (edited by Barash and Meltzer), and others. His pen names included Michael Sternberg, Z. Zweig, and Zur.
His books include: • Stories and Sketches (1913–1914, Ahisefer Publishing, Warsaw) • Childhood (1920, co-authored with Aba Birnbaum; published in ten editions) • Home and Street (1932) • On Mourning Paths (1942) • Partitions (1943) • Jami (1944) • That Which Passed (1951–1957, two volumes) • There and Here (1953, published by Dvir and the Hebrew Writers Association) • A Man in His Tent (1957), meditations and reflections • They Were Gone (1957), dedicated to the fallen of the Tel Mond Bloc • One of Them (1963) • Young in Their Time (1968) • Human Ways (1966) • In a Foreign Land (1970) • Among My People (1971) • In Those Days (1973) • Matter and Spirit (1975).
These later volumes were revised and reissued in modern Hebrew, published by a public committee under the initiative of the President of Israel, Zalman Shazar.
Weinberg’s return to Poland - originally intended to facilitate the aliyah of his entire family - stretched into fourteen years. During this period, he reached the height of his activity as an educator, writer, and public figure. Throughout these years, he often quoted Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, saying he was sustained by the spirit of the Land of Israel, which he had absorbed during his time there - and that spirit helped him endure life in the diaspora.
Like Rabbi Yehuda Halevi in his day, Weinberg left behind a high social and material standing in his homeland. Much to the amazement of his friends and admirers - who considered him almost mad - he departed with his family and immigrated to Eretz Israel in 1935. He settled in Tel Mond, then a newly founded settlement, where he remained until his final days.
At the tenth-anniversary celebration of the Tel Mond local council, and upon reaching the age of eighty, the settlement - led by Mr. Naftali Din - awarded him honorary citizenship in recognition of his devoted service to the community.
Zvi Zevulun Weinberg was a master of the short story - able to capture entire worlds with few words. Every image in his stories could serve as the backdrop for an entire novel.
On the September 12, 1971, he was laid to rest. His funeral procession was attended by family, hundreds of youth, most of the bloc’s residents, friends, fellow intellectuals, writers, and even a government minister. He was buried in the Tel Mond cemetery, alongside his beloved students to whom he had dedicated his life as an educator and writer.
Though Elimelech and his wife, the late Bronka, were residents of Ein Vered, their impact as educators extended across the entire Tel Mond Bloc, including the village of Kfar Hess. Bronka, a veteran kindergarten teacher, indirectly guided all the kindergartens in the region, while Elimelech, a teacher at the joint regional school in Tel Mond, served as an educator to dozens of children in Kfar Hess.
With their tragic deaths in a car accident on the 11th of Nisan, 5724 (1964), the region lost two exceptional educators - figures of stature who had helped shape the educational system of the bloc.
Elimelech formed a deep and unwavering bond with Tel Mond - a commitment he never broke. From the day he settled in Ein Vered, the Tel Mond Bloc became his haven. Though he received attractive offers, it never occurred to him to leave Ein Vered or the school in the bloc.
His enlistment in the Jewish Brigade, his work at “Beit HaNa’arah” (a home for girls in distress), and his mission in Italy were all, for him, temporary stations on the path back to his school in Tel Mond - the place from which he drew strength and inspiration for new missions.
In the early years, there was full cooperation between the kindergarten and the school. Bronka rightly saw herself as an integral partner in the larger educational endeavor - the school. Pedagogical meetings were held jointly. There were few teachers and kindergarten educators, and they would sit together to prepare topics, sing songs that would be taught to children both in kindergarten and school. Celebrations were held together as well - even later, as the system expanded.
At the Tel Mond school, Elimelech initially worked as a teacher of crafts and physical education, and later as a general teacher. But he never saw himself as just a teacher - he saw himself as an educator.
Even when away from the bloc, he maintained close ties with his school. While serving in the Brigade, he corresponded with his students, and his letters had a deep educational impact. Often, upon hearing his letters read aloud in class, one would get the impression that, though physically far away, in spirit he was present at the school, radiating inspiration to fellow teachers and students alike.
The division of the bloc’s school into two separate institutions - one regional, for children of the moshavim, and one local, for children living within the jurisdiction of the Tel Mond local council - deeply disturbed him. He saw it as a blow to the absorption of new immigrant children. He opposed the split, never reconciled with it, and chose to move to the local school, knowing his help and experience were most needed there.
His students loved and trusted him. They visited his home, enjoyed the fruits of the garden he lovingly tended with Bronka, admired the small aquarium he had built with his own hands, and listened intently to his captivating stories of World War II, of Italy, and of the Jewish children there. He illustrated these stories with photos and memorabilia from his travels across post-war Europe. He also took care of children from underprivileged families, bringing them clothes and shoes he collected from his many friends.
Elimelech and Bronka - two iconic educators of the Tel Mond Bloc. Their students and numerous friends will forever remember them with love and admiration.
Eliezer Esterin
Elimelech and his wife, the late Bronka, though residents of Ein Vered, had a significant educational influence on the entire Tel Mond bloc, including Kfar Hess. Bronka, an experienced kindergarten teacher, indirectly guided all the kindergarten teachers in the bloc, while Elimelech, a teacher at the shared school of the Tel Mond bloc, was also an educator to dozens of children in Kfar Hess.
With their tragic death in a car accident on the 11th of Nisan 5724 (April 24, 1964), the bloc lost two outstanding educators, figures who shaped its educational system.
Elimelech formed a loyal bond with Tel Mond, a commitment he never broke. From the day he settled in Ein Vered, the Tel Mond bloc was a safe haven for him. Though he received tempting offers, he never considered leaving Ein Vered and the school in the bloc.
His enlistment in the Jewish Brigade, his work at “Beit Ha’Na’ara” (The Girls’ Home), and his mission to Italy were all temporary stations on his journey back to his school in Tel Mond, from which he drew strength and inspiration for new endeavors.
In the early years, there was full cooperation between the kindergartens and the school. Bronka saw herself, rightfully, as a respected partner in the broader educational enterprise – the school. Pedagogical meetings were held jointly. The number of kindergarten teachers and schoolteachers was small, and they would sit together, prepare learning topics, and sing the same songs to be taught both in kindergarten and in school. Celebrations were also held jointly, even after the institutions grew.
At the school in Tel Mond, Elimelech initially worked as a crafts and physical education teacher, and later became a general educator. However, he never saw himself merely as a teacher – but as an educator in the full sense.
Even when he was outside the bloc, he maintained a close connection with his school. While in the Jewish Brigade, he corresponded with his students, and his letters had an educational influence on them. Often, when his letters were read aloud in class, it felt as though, while physically distant, his spirit remained in the school, radiating inspiration to fellow teachers and students alike.
The division of the bloc’s school into two separate schools – a regional school for the children of the moshavim and a local school for children residing within the jurisdiction of the Tel Mond Local Council – deeply shook him. He saw it as a blow to the absorption of immigrant children. He fought against the division, never accepted it, and chose to work at the local school, knowing that his help and experience were more needed there, for the children of the new immigrants.
His students trusted and loved him. They would visit his home, enjoy the fruits of his garden, which he tended lovingly with his wife, marvel at the small aquarium he built by hand, and listen to his captivating stories about World War II, about Italy, and about the Jewish children there. His stories were accompanied by photos and mementos he had brought from his travels across postwar Europe. He also cared for children from underprivileged families, providing them with clothes and shoes he collected from his many friends.
Elimelech and Bronka – two educator figures of the Tel Mond bloc. Their many students and friends will always remember them with love and admiration.
Eliezer Esterin
The local school operated from 1959 to 1976, and Mr. Yona Berkman was its first principal from 1959 to 1965.
Yona Berkman arrived in Tel Mond in 1950 and was accepted as a mathematics teacher for the higher elementary grades and continuation classes (ninth and tenth grades). At that time, the school served all the communities of the Tel Mond bloc, and the late David Gilboa was the principal. Yona contributed greatly to raising the level of mathematics in the continuation classes and also organized a drama club, with year-end performances of high quality.
The year 1955 marked the end of the continuation classes, and four years later came the division: instead of one shared school, two separate schools operated on the same campus, with a fence separating them.
Mrs. Ruth Gersten was appointed principal of the regional school, and Mr. Yona Berkman was appointed principal of the local school.
The “empire” that Mr. Yona Berkman took over was fraught with challenges. The school had around 500 students.
The population consisted mostly of new immigrants from various ethnic backgrounds, with all the difficulties that entailed. The economic situation in the country, and particularly in Tel Mond, was difficult at the time - issues of employment and housing were widespread.
Yona faced many difficult challenges, including the issue of staffing classes with good teachers. While there were some local teachers, their number did not meet the school’s needs, and due to transportation difficulties, it was hard to bring in qualified teachers. Everything had to be fought for. Through great effort and with the help of Mr. Naftali Din, Yona managed to coordinate with the Egged bus company to more or less align bus schedules to and from Tel Mond for the convenience of the teachers. There was also the problem of teacher tardiness (due to transportation), as well as illnesses - handling replacements occupied both the principal and his deputy.
Among the parents, there was often insufficient awareness of the school’s needs. They did not always know how to stand by the principal or support him in his demands for the benefit of the institution. Yona did everything in his power to overcome all obstacles. Educationally, a tremendous effort was made.
Yona, a Holocaust survivor, knew well the importance of instilling in our youth a love for the homeland and for our heritage. He was wholeheartedly devoted to the school, and since he lived nearby, it often seemed as if the school was truly his home.
He would use both the short vacations and the long summer break to handle administrative matters and prepare the school for the new academic year.
Yona Berkman was a man of many talents. In Russia, he was an engineer in steel plants. In his youth, he studied in a yeshiva, and when he retired in 1965, he dedicated himself to writing. He wrote many wonderful Yiddish poems, which were compiled into several books and published. He translated extensively between Hebrew and Yiddish and gained a reputation as an expert in translation and lyrical Yiddish poetry. The positive reviews by both writers and scholars are testimony to the important place Yona held in the history of Yiddish literature in Israel and around the world.
Eliezer Esterin