from the Pinkas Synagogue in Warsaw, at Temple Beth El; a Sefer Torah from Novoye Rosanovo, Russia, at Congregation Beth Abra- ham Hillel Moses; a Torah originally from Kyjov, Czechoslovakia, now at Adat Shalom Synagogue; and the Torah of Taus Domazlice, Bohemia, at Temple Kol Ami. Rabbi Richard Hertz of Temple Beth El learned firsthand of the Nazi terror when he traveled in 1959 to Czechoslovakia. He visited Theresienstadt and a wall, at Prague's Pinkas Syn- agogue, listing the 77,297 names of everyone in the city murdered by the Nazis. He also went to the Klausen Synagogue of Prague, where he saw what he calls "the living rem- nants of the Six Million" — the items that were to com- prise the "Museum of the Extinct Jewish Race." Rabbi Hertz was most astonished by the hundreds of Torahs in terrible disrepair. He felt over- whelmed when Prague offi- cials asked him to take all the Torahs to the United States and see to their resto- ration. "I was appalled at the magnitude of such a pro- ject," he says. "Each Torah was like a living person that would need to be cared for, clothed and housed. It would take an organization, a library, a museum, an in- stitution." A Prague art director, Eric Estorick, became interested in the Holocaust Torahs. He held negotiations with Ar- tia, the official agency for Czech cultural properties, and a London philanthropist who agreed to pay for the shipping of the Torahs. This anonymous philanthropist approached Rabbi Harold Reinhart of the Westminster Synagogue, who agreed to care for the Torahs. The Westminster Syn- agogue then numbered and cataloged each Torah scroll Every Torah Has A Story 30 FRIDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1990 and made repairs where possible. In 1971, Rabbi Hertz returned to England, where he spoke with Rabbi Reinhart's successor, Rabbi Albert Friedlander. The two met at Westminster Syn- agogue, once the palace of the Duke of Kent. "Rabbi Friedlander took me upstairs into what were formerly the bedrooms of the royal family, and there sleeping in the little bins were 1,500 Torahs," Rabbi Hertz says. "I was over- whelmed with emotion as I saw what looked like hun- dreds of naked corpses in shrouds. I knew each Torah had to come from some plundered synagogue where men had once pored over these scrolls, reading the sacred texts of the weekly sedra." As the new Temple Beth El was being built in the 1970s, Rabbi Hertz re- membered the Torahs of Prague and asked Rabbi Friedlander that the temple receive one. Torah 987, written in 1800 and once housed in the Pinkas Synagogue of Prague, arrived at the new Temple Beth El in 1972. It was dedicated on Rosh Hashanah and "represents the chain of tradition link- ing the Holocaust with the next generation," Rabbi Hertz says. Rabbi Ernst Conrad of Temple Kol Ami became in- terested in obtaining a Torah from the Westminster Synagogue as soon as he heard they were available. So he wrote in his request, and in August 1969, the Torah arrived. "We have cherished it ever since," Rabbi Conrad says. Officials at the Westminster Synagogue made some repairs on the Torah —corrected letters are darker than the old ones — and sent it with an old wim- ple still wrapped around the scrolls. Temple Kol Ami decided More than 1,500 Torahs sat on the waterlogged synagogue floors. Some were splattered with blood; one contained the note, "Please God, help us in these troubled times." not to restore the Torah be- cause damage is so exten- sive. But the rabbis supplied a new wimple and cover, a dark-blue needlepoint design showing the Ten Commandments. The Torah is taken out on Yom Kippur and Yom HaShoah, Holo- caust Memorial Day. Number 900 of the 1,564 Torahs confiscated by the Nazis, Temple Kol Ami's Torah was written in 1890 and used in the community of Taus Domazlice, Bohemia. Dedicated at Adat Shalom on Yom Kippur 1986, memorial scroll 1017 was written in 1890 and was ir- reparably damaged during the war. Records show Jews lived in Kyjov for hundreds of years. A 1613 charter protected their right to reside there, though townsfolk petitioned for their ousting. In 1930, the Jewish com- munity of Kyjov numbered 319, 7 percent of the popula- tion. During World War II, the Nazis used a large camp, established by Kyjov au- thorities after World War I to aid refugees, as a tem- porary holding area for Jews. From Kyjov, the Jews were sent to the There- sienstadt death camp. After the war, Kyjov became the central commun- ity in the area, with jurisdic- tion over the Hodonin, Holesov, Kromeriz, Uhersky Brod and Vsetin syn- agogues. In 1956, a memorial to Holocaust vic- tims was dedicated in the Kyjov cemetery. The Torah mantle (cover) shows a charred tallit, uniting man and Torah into one. "The soul of the Jew and the Torah cannot be parted," explains Elsa Wachs, who designed the mantle. The cover also includes Job's lament, "Oh, let my cry have a resting place," burned into the tallit, and symbolic colors and designs. The Torah rests on a dark base of nickel silver, bronze and steel, designed by local artist Morris Brose. Black blades cut through panels resembling the Aron Hakodesh (the Holy Ark) to symbolize the slaughter of 6 million Jews. The fifth Torah saved from the Holocaust and now in the Detroit area is housed at Congregation Beth Abra- ham Hillel Moses. Written in the 19th century, the Torah is originally from Novoye Rosanovo, 150 miles southwest of Moscow. It came to the West Bloomfield congregation in 1984 to replace a Torah destroyed in a fire that ravaged the syn- agogue in 1983. The Torah mantle shows a hand reaching toward heaven. The arm is clothed in the death-camp inmate's black-and-white striped garb, and the yellow Star of David the Nazis forced Jews to wear. It also bears the words "Am Yisrael Chai," the Jewish people lives. The Torah was in poor condition when it arrived and has yet to be repaired, but it is still taken out on special occasions including Yizkor on Yom Kippur and Yom Hashoah. "We felt there had to be a place for it in the syn- agogue," Beth Abraham Hillel Moses Rabbi A. Irving Schnipper says of the Novoye Rosanovo Torah. "It couldn't be left alone like an orphan. It needed to have a place with other Torahs." T he man eased his way up to Leo Steinmetz and gently touched his shoulder. "I think I've found some- thing in the garbage can that's holy to you," he said. Mr. Steinmetz followed the stranger to a nearby dump- ster. Inside he saw two treasures: a Megillat Esther and a Sefer Torah. He picked them up and took them straight to a sofer, scribe. Could they be used? Were they reparable? They were, the scribe said. So Mr. Steinmetz paid $80 to fix the Torah handles and another $150 for an inspec- tion to determine if the Torah was kosher. "And $230 in 1951 — that was a lot of money," Mr. Steinmetz says. Today, Mr. Steinmetz, of Oak Park, feels close to the Torah he found abandoned in a dumpster almost 40 years ago in Chicago. "I adopted it," he says. "It's my Torah." The Torah belonged to a congregation whose syn- agogue was sold to a church. When the new occupants moved in, they cleaned out the facility, throwing away any unfamiliar, apparently useless, items. If no one else wanted the Torah, Mr. Steinmetz did. First he lent it to his son-in- law, who started a congrega- tion just outside Chicago. Then he loaned it to his other son-in-law, who was creating a congregation in Miami. After Mr. Steinmetz set- tled in Detroit, the Torah found a home at Oak Park's Machon L'Torah. "I went to daven there once," says Mr. Steinmetz, mashgiach at Sperber's Kosher Catering. "And (Machon director) Rabbi Avraham Jacobovitz told me