August 13, 2016
August 13, 2016
40 years. Such a long time. I miss you.
This website was created in memory of my father, Grigory Finkelstein, גרשון בֵּן רוזה ו יעקב, who was born on December 30, 1910 (Kislev 29, 5671) and died on August 13, 1976 (Av 17, 5736).
The story of his life is written in my, his only daughter's, voice. But the information, especially concerning my father's life before my birth, comes mostly from my mother's stories, told and re-told over our long life together. Mom, thanks for preserving these memories!
Recent Tributes
August 13, 2016
August 13, 2016
40 years. Such a long time. I miss you.
Gallery
His grandaughter, Judith Prays, with her 3 daughters
My father and me around 1961. A happy day.
The family of my daughter, Judith Prays, Grigory Finkelstein's grand-daugher: Judith Prays, her husband, Yonatan and their daughter, Roat.
The family of my son, Greg Neyman, Grigory Finkelstein's grandson: Greg, Marsha, Evette and their dog, Licorice
My husband, Arcady Milrud and I, Nina Prays, Grigory Finkelstein's daugher.
A family photo of the extended Finkestein family upon their return to Pereiaslav. My dad is bottom left. His parents - middle row, right.
Kiev, 1957
In 1910 the town had about 6000 Jews. To serve this small community, at the end of the 19th century, a synagogue was built. The building had survived the WWII and is preserved until now as a factory of woven products. The factory is, ironically, named aft
Sterlitamak, 1953-54. My parents were very good dancers and I always enjoyed watching them at their best, dancing together.
Recent stories
His 'Vocation'
July 17, 2016
by Nina Prays
Even though my father never became a doctor, he became a specialist in a somewhat medical capacity. We lived in a place where medicine was socialized and was described by a popular saying, "Medicine for nothing is... medicine for nothing".
My dad's specialty was as follows: whenever anybody in the circle of family or friends would get seriously sick, they would call my dad and explain the situation.
He would say something jocular and encouraging and go for his personal address book. He would call everyone in the book to find out if they knew somebody with connections who could help find a doctor willing to take money 'under the table' and provide some decent care in the case. My dad was very good at that and had a lot of success stories of people who would not have survived but for his help. Naturally, his services were free of charge.
His Regrets
July 17, 2016
by Nina Prays
My father's life was full of accomplishments:
he survived, achieved, persevered and created a life for himself and his family that was quite decent by the standards of the place we lived in. My father was and eloquent speaker, good writer, an athlete to the last day of his life, a creative handyman. And yet quite often he voiced regrets which made me feel that he did not quite reach his potential.
These are his regrets, practically verbatim:
1. I never became a doctor.
2. I never learned to play an instrument.
3. I never learned how to water-ski.
4. I never went into outer space.