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Subject: Translation request Polish – English (GRUNES, State Archive in Rzeszów (Poland)
I am looking for a translation and an explanation on a document which I received from the State Archive in Rzeszów, Poland (Archiwum Panstwowe W Rzeszowie).
Can you please tell me what this document is about and please translate it for me?
Searching: DORF, ETSIONI, FISZLOWICZ, GERSTNER, GOLDSTEEN, HART, LEHRER, PA(C)KTER, PAKTOR, S(Y)(I)LBERBERG, SAIL, SANDERS, SCHEEN, SJENITZER,SCH(ö)(O)NITZER, STORK, TIMBERG, VAN STRATEN
Sir Moses Haim Montefiore (1784-1885), a British Jewish banker and philanthropist, determined defender of human rights and sheriff of London was once seated at dinner next to an important personality and an anti-Semite, who told him he had just returned from Japan where they “have neither pigs nor Jews.”
Montefiore replied instantly: “Accordingly, you and I should go there so they can have a sample of each.”
A shadchan (matchmaker) goes to see a poor man and says, “I want to arrange a marriage for your son.”
The poor man replies, “I never interfere in my son’s life.”
The shadchan responds, “But the girl is Lord Rothschild’s daughter.”
“Well, in that case…”
Next, the shadchan approaches Lord Rothschild. “I have a husband for your daughter.”
“But my daughter is too young to marry.”
“But this young man is already a vice president of the World Bank.”
“Ah, in that case…”
Finally, the shadchan goes to see the president of the World Bank.
“I have a young man to recommend to you as a vice president.”
“But I already have more vice presidents than I need.”
“But this young man is Lord Rothschild’s son-in-law.”
“Ah, in that case….”
Yankele, from the Bronx, goes to vacation in Florida and decides to send his wife a quick e-mail. However he can’t find the paper where he wrote it down so he types it from memory. Unfortunately, Yankele misses one letter in the address and the e-mail is sent to a grieving rebbetzin whose husband passed away the day before. When the grieving rebbetzin checks her e-mail, she lets out a piercing scream, collapses, and is found dead by her shocked family who sees this message on her computer screen…
Just got checked in. Everything prepared for your arrival tomorrow.
Your Loving Husband
PS: Sure is hot down here.
An elderly man in Miami calls his son in New York and says, “I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing. Forty-five years of misery is enough.”
“Pop, what are you talking about?” the son screams.
“We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” the old man says. “We’re sick of each other, and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her,” and he hangs up.
Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. “Like heck they’re getting divorced,” she shouts. “I’ll take care of this.” She calls her father immediately and screams at the old man, “You are NOT getting divorced! Don’t do a single thing until I get there. I’m calling my brother back and we’ll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don’t do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?” and hangs up.
The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. “Okay,” he says. “They’re coming for Sukkoth and paying their own airfares.”
Two beggars are sitting side by side on a street in Mexico City. One has a cross in front of him. The other one the Star of David. Many people go by and look at both beggars, but only put money into the hat of the beggar sitting behind the cross. A priest comes by, stops and watches throngs of people giving money to the beggar behind the cross, but none gives to the beggar behind the Star of David.
Finally the priest goes over to the beggar behind the Star of David and says: “My poor fellow, don’t you understand? This is a Catholic country. People aren’t going to give you money if you sit there with a Star of David in front of you, especially when you’re sitting beside a beggar who has a cross. In fact, they would probably give to him just out of spite.”
The beggar behind the ‘Star of David’ listened to the priest, turned to the other beggar with the cross and said: “Moshe, look who’s trying to teach the Goldstein brothers about marketing.”
Harry Abramowitz wanted to join the Greenvale Country Club, a club known never to have had a Jewish member. This deterred Harry not at all. First, he went to court and had his name changed from Harry Moses Abramowitz to Howard Trevelyan Frobisher. Then he flew to a plastic surgeon in Switzerland, who transformed his Semitic profile into a Nordic one. Then he hired a tutor from England to change his Hester Street [New York Jewish] accent to the mellifluous modality of Regent Street. Then Harry worked his way into the graces of several members of the Greenvale Country Club…
Two years after launching upon his project, Howard Frobisher, né Harry Abramowitz, appeared before the membership committee.
The chairman said, “Please state your name.”
In plummy Oxonian accents, Harry said, “Howard Trevelyan Frobisher.”
“And where were you educated, Mr. Frobisher?”
“The usual places: Eton…Oxford…”
The chairman beamed. “And what is your religious affiliation?”
Sadly, slowly, Duved Krekman entered the headquarters of the Lantsmon’s Philanthropic League. He trudged into the office of the Executive Secretary and sighed, “Glaser, I’m here.” He sat down. “I have to make arrangements for the League to bury my wife.”
“Krekman!” exclaimed Mr. Glaser. “Don’t you remember? We buried your darling wife two years ago!”
Mr. Krekman nodded. “I remember, I remember. That was my first wife. I’m here about my second.”
Second? Mazel tov! I didn’t know you remarried.”
The Pope met with his cardinals to discuss a proposal from the Prime Minister of Israel. “Your Holiness,” said one of the Cardinals, “The Prime Minister wants to challenge you to a game of golf to show the friendship and ecumenical spirit shared by the Jewish and Catholic faiths.”
The Pope thought it was a good idea, but he had never held a golf club in his hand. “Don’t we have a cardinal to represent me?” he asked.
“None that plays golf very well,” a cardinal replied. “But,” he added, “there is a man named Jack Nicklaus, an American golfer who is a devout Catholic. We can offer to make him a Cardinal; then ask him to play as your personal representative. In addition to showing our spirit of cooperation, we’ll also win the match.” Everyone agreed it was a good idea. The call was made. Of course, Nicklaus was honored and agreed to play.
The day after the match, Nicklaus reported to the Vatican to inform the Pope of the result. “I have some good news and some bad news, Your Holiness,” said the golfer.
“Tell me the good news first, Cardinal Nicklaus,” said the Pope.
“Well, your Holiness, I don’t like to brag, but even though I’ve played some pretty terrific rounds of golf in my life, this was the best I have ever played, by far. I must have been inspired from above. My drives were long and true, my irons were accurate and purposeful and my putting was perfect. With all due respect, my play was truly miraculous.”
“There’s bad news?” the Pope asked.
“Yes,” Nicklaus sighed. “I lost to Rabbi Tiger Woods by three strokes.”