Page 32 - big friday
P. 32
B ehind the Scenes
T he following record has both an advantage and a disadvantage: it
was written in 1953, quite soon after the declaration of the state, but
at that time not all the details of the ceremony and what had taken
place behind the scenes were known. Nevertheless, we cite it as it
was published.
Pinchas Jurman
Close to noon on Thursday, May 13th, 1948, Otte Wallisch, an advertising agent and
graphic designer from Tel Aviv, walked into his studio on Nahalat Binyamin Street. On his
desk he found a note: "Come to Sharef at the [Jewish] Agency right away."
W allisch, haggard after a sleepless night, was not excited about this urgent yet enigmatic
invitation. All he wanted was some rest. He had spent the last ten days in feverish activity
preparing a new set of stamps, nine in number, bearing the inscription, "Hebrew post". A
short while ago the new stamps had been presented at a press conference, and Wallisch
had spent the night, along with A. Idelson (today A. Ayalon, director of the Government
Printer), completing the printing of the stamps. He had intended to take a quick peep into
his office and then go home to sleep.
H owever, the brief note decreed otherwise. A few minutes later, Wallisch was climbing
the stairs of the Jewish Agency building, and was directed to a room on the second floor.
As he entered, he was received with an impatient sigh, "Finally!", and the two men in the
room, Zeev Sharef (today the Cabinet Secretary) and Shlomo Kedar (now in the diplomatic
corps) told him in the briefest of terms, "You have 24 hours to prepare the main hall of
the Tel Aviv Museum for holding the ceremony of the declaration of the state." Before
Wallisch could recover from his astonishment, his ears caught two words: "Absolutely
secret" – and the two messengers of the surprise operation left the room.
A 100-Pound loan
W ithout wasting a moment, Wallisch hurried to the museum, feeling a strange
emptiness in his gut, evidence of unusual excitement. Indeed, Otte Wallisch,
advertising agent and artist, was excited! This 42-year old man, born in
Czechoslovakia, had handled the technical and artistic arrangements for the last
30 The Friday That Changed Destiny
T he following record has both an advantage and a disadvantage: it
was written in 1953, quite soon after the declaration of the state, but
at that time not all the details of the ceremony and what had taken
place behind the scenes were known. Nevertheless, we cite it as it
was published.
Pinchas Jurman
Close to noon on Thursday, May 13th, 1948, Otte Wallisch, an advertising agent and
graphic designer from Tel Aviv, walked into his studio on Nahalat Binyamin Street. On his
desk he found a note: "Come to Sharef at the [Jewish] Agency right away."
W allisch, haggard after a sleepless night, was not excited about this urgent yet enigmatic
invitation. All he wanted was some rest. He had spent the last ten days in feverish activity
preparing a new set of stamps, nine in number, bearing the inscription, "Hebrew post". A
short while ago the new stamps had been presented at a press conference, and Wallisch
had spent the night, along with A. Idelson (today A. Ayalon, director of the Government
Printer), completing the printing of the stamps. He had intended to take a quick peep into
his office and then go home to sleep.
H owever, the brief note decreed otherwise. A few minutes later, Wallisch was climbing
the stairs of the Jewish Agency building, and was directed to a room on the second floor.
As he entered, he was received with an impatient sigh, "Finally!", and the two men in the
room, Zeev Sharef (today the Cabinet Secretary) and Shlomo Kedar (now in the diplomatic
corps) told him in the briefest of terms, "You have 24 hours to prepare the main hall of
the Tel Aviv Museum for holding the ceremony of the declaration of the state." Before
Wallisch could recover from his astonishment, his ears caught two words: "Absolutely
secret" – and the two messengers of the surprise operation left the room.
A 100-Pound loan
W ithout wasting a moment, Wallisch hurried to the museum, feeling a strange
emptiness in his gut, evidence of unusual excitement. Indeed, Otte Wallisch,
advertising agent and artist, was excited! This 42-year old man, born in
Czechoslovakia, had handled the technical and artistic arrangements for the last
30 The Friday That Changed Destiny
