"The colony is the outgrowth of the desire of some Russian immigrants to find a spot where they may live a secluded life in their own peculiar way, free from the rush and bustle of the world and with a freedom of speech which was impossible in Russia," reported The Sun.
"Their leader is Rabbi Toblas Goodman, who had preceded his flock by several years. It was his idea to found such a settlement and it was he who brought the Russians here from New York. He is treated with veneration and his word is law in the colony."
According to The Sun, there are at "present 20 families in the colony and each is assessed $1 a week to aid in paying a mortgage of $15,000 on the place."
The newspaper explained that the "principal occupation at present is the pursuit of agriculture and stock-raising" and the "spirit of freedom, cleanliness and industry pervade the whole community. There are no idlers. Everyone is busy in the fields or homes. Only the young children seem to have time to play."
Yaazor represented a way of life that freed residents from the bone-breaking hours toiling in Baltimore's sweatshops and living in crowded tenements.
The commune's residents were largely tailors, silversmiths and carpenters, not skilled farmers, which ultimately caused its demise.
Adding to its woes was the fact that a promised clothing factory was never built on the site.
"Salvation was not to be found from the land. For most immigrants, daily bread was to come from a sewing machine," wrote Dr. Isaac M. Fein, in his book The Making of an American Jewish Community: The History of Baltimore Jewry from 1773 to 1920.
Eventually, many of the commune's residents tired of the humid summers, long cold winters and the difficulties of the agrarian way of life and began returning to the city.
By the early 1930s, Yaazor was well on its way to becoming a memory.
"Christians purchased some of the land and houses after the Jewish farmers returned to Baltimore. Other acreage was sold to the state for the Patapsco State Park," wrote Philip Kahn Jr. in his book, Uncommon Threads: Threads that Wove the Fabric of Baltimore Jewish Life.
"Russian Jews never became suited for farm work. With the exception of a highly successful Polish community in Vineland, N.J., no amount of money could successfully change Jewish small shopkeepers and artisans from the shtetls of Russia into farmers," Kahn wrote.
fred.rasmussen@baltsun.com
