Tampa man keeps alive 90 years of loving Yiddish in his books of words, phrases

Pauline and Murray Witchel in their new home at Weinberg Village, with one of his three books of Yiddish. Ninety year-old Murray Witchel has many loves in life. Pauline, his wife of 68 years, is the first of them, along with the couple’s two children, five grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

Witchel’s other great love is the Yiddish language he remembers from his Orthodox Jewish childhood in Harlem, New York.

Yiddish, the primary language of Eastern European Jews, is considered by many to be a dying language. As older generations of Eastern European Jews die, the language, for the most part, is dying with them.

The haredim (ultra religious) in Israel and pockets of Orthodox in New York still speak it, but many younger Jews know only the words that have crept into the vernacular, such as “shlep,” or “chutzpah.”

To Witchel, though, Yiddish is very much alive.

Murray Witchel’s three completed books of Yiddish terms and words He grew up hearing it spoken in his home. Witchel said his paternal grandmother, who spoke only Yiddish, was the main way he learned the language.

Now, in a series of books, Witchel who recently moved from Largo to Weinberg Village in Tampa, is promoting that beloved Yiddish for future generations.

The result of years of effort is a three-volume lexicon (a fourth is currently in the works) containing a wealth of words and phrases reflecting the daily life of the Yiddish speaking.

“I love the language,”said Witchel, who in his younger years worked in the family-owned chain of grocery stores called Daitch Dairies, with stores throughout Brooklyn and the Bronx. “As words came to me I jotted them down.”

Unlike Leo Rosten’s popular Joys of Yiddish, first published in 1968, Witchel’s books do not offer tips on pronunciation or provide background on the history of the words. His collection offers the reader a chance to explore Yiddish for fun, with no particular order to the words and phrases.

Some are mundane expressions. Some are humorous. Some even refl ect the Yiddish version of curses, such as “You should grow like an onion with your head in the earth and your feet sticking up,” which in Yiddish would read approximately like the following: “Gayen dred mit da fees aroise azeh vee ah tzibeleh.”

Pauline Witchel shares her husband’s love of the language.

“Yiddish is a tongue-in-cheek language,” she said. “You can’t take every word seriously.”

Husband and wife agreed that words and expressions changed subtly country by country. Murray Witchel’s Yiddish is that of Minsk, Russia, in his grandparents’ time. His wife’s Yiddish goes back to her German roots.

“I’m the only one in my family who intermarried,” she joked.

To date, the lexicographer has two volumes of Yiddish phrases printed, bound and ready for sale to the tune of $22. The third is completed and ready for printing.

The first book, a slim 97 pages, is called So How Do You Say Chicken in Yiddish? The book contains lists of words and common expressions, some of which are humorous, and most of which derive from German.

“Eighty percent of Yiddish derives from German,” Witchel said.

“I’m stuck with a lousy wife,” a “machashafer” in Yiddish is one such humorous phrase; “In the earth is my money,” translated as “en dred iz mine gelt,” is another.

Book Two, Oy. A Guggle Muggle!, was inspired by a recipe for a sore throat used by Witchel’s grandmother.

“A guggle muggle consists of the yolk of an egg, warm water and warm milk,” he said. “It works.”

This volume contains old favorites in Yiddish, such as “Where is it written?” (“Ve shatait dus gestbribben?”) “It should happen to me,” (“aff mer gezukt”) and “People think and God laughs,” (“Menchen trach un Gut lacht”).

Book Three is the longest book to date—253 pages of words and expressions. Witchel entitled this one Hungry? When did you last eat a kuchen?

The “kuchen,” he said, is the Yiddish name for an elongated bialy, an onion-filled chewy roll that is a favorite substitute for bagels in many Jewish kitchens.

In the making is volume four— Gefilte Fish with Chrain (Horseradish).

Witchel’s documenting of Yiddish words goes back to early marriage.

“I began working on the first two books right away,” he said.

Today, even at night, he can’t escape the Yiddish favorites of his youth.

“I get up in the middle of the night to make notations on my fourth book,” he said.

How many entries does he have?

“I never counted them,” he said, “but I guess about 3000.”

In the meantime Witchel said he plans to keep documenting Yiddish words, volume by volume, and maybe move beyond Yiddish down the line.

“I might write another book,” he said. “That one will be about Pauline’s brother who was the family comedian.”

The self-published Yiddish books are available only from Witchel, who can be contacted through Weinberg Village. Call (813) 969-1818.