Hebrew School

During the early 1930’s, when the time arrived when I was to go to Hebrew School, there were no Hebrew Schools per se in the Pimlico area. The closest was Isaac Davidson on Shirley Avenue. There were only individual Hebrew teachers, rebbes, and this is where I went. Mr. Rudnitzky was a Shochet, a ritual killer who slaughtered chickens and other fowls in the prescribed Kosher manner. He lived in a row house at the end of a street off Garrison Avenue about three blocks west of Park Heights Avenue. He had five other students, all boys about eight years old. We only learned to read Hebrew. We learned about holidays and other Jewish rituals and customs at home where they were practiced throughout the year. We also learned Jewish values from our parents and other family members. We students sat around his dining room table and read Hebrew from a Siddur, a prayer book. When a housewife appeared with a live chicken to be slaughtered, Mr. Rudnitzky donned a large rubber apron, waved his arms and said, “Lez, lez,” (read, read) and disappeared through the back door into the yard. We would hear a loud screech and Mr. Rudnitzky would reappear with blood and feathers clinging to his rubber apron.

When the time arrived for my Bar Mitzvah, I was sent to a Rabbi who taught the Haftorah. He lived on Classen Avenue, the street off Park Heights Avenue just before the Avalon movie theater. I was first taught the notes; the little sqiggles and lines and dots around the Hebrew letters. Once the notes were learned, any Haftorah could be chanted. The Bar Mitzvah boy (there was no such thing as a Bat Mitzvah for girls) was taught only the Haftorah, not the Torah portion or the prayers. I cannot remember a “lavish Kiddush” after the service; probably herring, kichlas and whiskey for the men.

My Father insisted that I go to Hebrew College located on Eutaw Place and Preston Street in a converted mansion. I hated it. I did not have the basic background knowledge; I could translate very few Hebrew words. It was frustrating, and when my grades were very poor (as opposed to A’s at Poly) my father realized that Kenny would never become a Talmud Chochon (wise student of the Talmud). I lasted less than a year.

My father realized the lack of a Hebrew School in the Pimlico area and he was later instrumental in the establishment of a Hebrew School affiliated with the Petach Tikvah Congregation.