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From a newspaper article, 1928. Excerpts below:
To most people a trip abroad means a trip to Paris, London, Berlin ...
We went to visit my grandparents ...
My mother had not seen her parents in twenty-two years. ... my grandparents live in Dzisna, Poland.
Dzisna is a town of four thousand people, located in the northernmost tip of Poland. It lies directly on the russian border with only a narrow river, the Dvina, separating it from Russian territory. Prior to the World War it was a busy town. It was the county seat and trading center of the surrounding farming region. Boats travelling on the Dvina stopped at Dzisna. A bridge spanning the river linked Dzisna with the rest of Russia.
Then came the War. In rapid succession there followed the Russian Revolution, invasions by the German, Bolshevik, and Polish armies and the war between Russia and Poland. In the last conflict Dzisna was a battlefield. Practically every house in Dzisna was [illegible], today used as sash-weights.
Finally calm was restored&emdash;that was all that was restored. And the calm was not of peace but of death. Everything that had been the source of life of Dzisna was removed. The bridge was burned, the Dvina was declared the boundary ...
Too much was left in Dzisna. Hunger, disease, poverty, misery ... Twentieth century life ahs departed ...
To this "Paradise" we went last June. We have our firest taste of "Heaven" after we arrived at Zyabki, the railroad station nearest to Dzisna&emdash;a matter of only thirty-five kilometers ... we had to complete our journey in horse-drawn wagons. Although it was eleven at night we decided to start immediately for Dzisna.
... Never before had I encountered such roads. Each square foot had more ruts than the United States has automobiles. ... A little farther on, in the midst of a large mud-hole, the wagon my mother was in all but upset.
... About three miles outside of Dzisna I observed a speck in the distance. ... I had a sudden inspiration.
"Bertha," I called to my sister. "Here they are&emdash;here's grandma."
I was right. A moment later a reunion took place between mother and daughter after a separation of twenty-two years. ...
... After eight hours of bone-shattering travel we reached Dzisna. ...
Another curious feature of Dzisner life was the attitude toward marriage. Everybody must get married, regardless of economics, health, or personal wishes. I asked my grandmother why she was so insistent that her sons marry.
"What a question to ask! You know that every minute of the day my sons are being cursed by the souls of their children from whom they are withholding life. ...
... Not until I came to Dzisna did I realize the advantages of understanding and speaking Yiddish. All our conversation was conducted in Yiddish. ...
...
... Some things repelled me; others amused and fascingated me. Some things saddened me; few things gladdened me. ...
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© A. Beilin et al., Tel Aviv, 1969