---

ATTLEBORO - It's a small plot tucked away in Dodgeville, unnoticed for the most part by many in Attleboro.

But, it's been there a long time. And it holds great significance to Attleboro's vital Jewish community.

Known formally as Agudas Achim Cemetery, it also has also been called the Dodgeville Hebrew Cemetery, or simply the Jewish Cemetery.

And it is about to turn 100.

The local Jewish community will pause during the Ten Days of Repentance - the period of solemn reflection and soul-searching that occurs between Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year 5769 will begin at sundown Monday) and Yom Kippur (the 24-hour Day of Atonement will begin at sunset Oct. 8) - to rededicate the sacred plot that says much about the journey undertaken by the community. The four-acre cemetery will be rededicated on its centennial at 10 a.m. Oct. 5, the Sunday between the New Year and the Day of Atonement.

The little-known gem is tucked neatly away on Orchard Street off South Main Street in the city's historic Dodgeville district, about a half-mile past the Dodgeville Mill.

It is literally sandwiched between the St. Stephen's and Hillside cemeteries, and shares an entranceway with Hillside Cemetery.

But the rare treasure is a remarkable piece of Attleboro history.

Those interred in the almost 90 graves are not only many of the founders of Congregation Agudas Achim - which, itself, will turn 100 in 2011 - but also are people with family names known well to Attleboroeans of all ages: Rotenberg, Fine and Volterra, for example.

A leisurely stroll through the site turns up many patriarchs and matriarchs of the Jewish community in Attleboro - people who contributed mightily to the growth of what was at the turn of the century still a town not all that far removed from the separation with North Attleboro in 1887.

Agudas Achim Rabbi Elyse Wechterman says it's not by accident that the cemetery will mark its centennial before the synagogue. That's because, after starting to settle in Attleboro about the turn of the century, the Jewish community was just starting to grow.

Its members were holding daily, Sabbath and holiday services in people's homes using the required religious quorum, called a "minyan" needed for a formal service - 10 males age 13 or older, although many branches of Judaism today allow women to be counted toward the minyan.

It was traditional, the rabbi explained, for such nascent religious communities to take care of three tasks before finding or building a house of worship: Find burial land to care for its elders, create a school to educate its youth and find a "mikvah," or ritual bath for conversion and observances.

"The fact that it (the cemetery) was founded three years earlier was not unusual," Wechterman said before leading a tour of the cemetery for The Sun Chronicle with Lisa Berenson, the director of development for the Jewish Cemetery Association of Massachusetts. The association administers 101 of the 209 Jewish cemeteries in the state. Agudas Achim is listed in the association's guidebook, but is privately owned and operated by the synagogue.

Berenson plans to give a similar tour the morning of the rededication, when the synagogue will start, in the rabbi's words, "a new tradition of honoring all those who have come before us in this community."

That ceremony will include a service of remembrance and a reading of the synagogue's "Golden Book" containing the names of the synagogue's ancestors, who paved the way for future generations.

Berenson said during the tour that she was impressed with the neatly manicured cemetery.

"I get the feeling that this is a very intimate community," she said. "I could tell this was a very close community, that people knew each other."

An indication of that - and that the community remains deeply connected - are the way the graves are marked.

One grave, for example, has a guitar on it to denote that the deceased was a musician. The gravestone of Judge Ernest Rotenberg has a scale of justice on it.

The cemetery holds special meaning for people such as Gladys Rotenberg, the famous judge's widow.

Gladys, 82, who was a history teacher at Attleboro High School and who still is a substitute teacher there, said she and Rotenberg, who was born in Attleboro in 1924, met at Boston University, and she moved to Attleboro in 1949.

She was originally from Plymouth, and finds it a comfort to have the cemetery close by to pay her respects during the year.

"It's nice having the cemetery in the same town where you live," she said after a brief visit with The Sun Chronicle on a gorgeous, sunny late-summer day that made the cemetery seem even more peaceful.

Also buried in the cemetery are many members of the Fine family, who came to Attleboro in the early part of the century, and who have left their mark on Attleboro and Rehoboth in countless way.

Lois Fine-Sargeant, who still works mornings at the Rehoboth Council on Aging, is the daughter-in-law of Sam Fine, one of the children of Charles and Bayla Fine.

Charles - whose father and family patriarch, Abraham, and his wife, Nellie, came around the turn of the century - has a fascinating story that is outlined in the related article that appears with this story. One of the markers on the gate at the cemetery is dedicated to Abraham and Nellie Fine.

Lois, whose husband, Jerry, died on Memorial Day in 1993 and remarried Richard Sargeant in September 1998 finds the cemetery to be a comforting spot, especially in the period before and during the High Holidays, when it is customary for Jewish people to visit their loved ones.

Special graveside prayers are often said during such visits. Stones, and not flowers, are also left on the graves as a sign that a visitor has been there.

Charles' sons included Hyman Fine, who was active in Attleboro education and whose name bears an elementary school in Attleboro. Another son was Benjamin Fine, who worked his way up to education editor of the New York Times, where he won a Pulitzer Prize. He also wrote 10 books on education, according to Ruth Fine Handy, whose father was Hyman Fine.

Another prominent Attleborean whose parents and grandparents are buried in the cemetery is lawyer Max Volterra, the city's state representative from 1971 to 1978, and who still serves on numerous city and community boards, including the Attleboro Redevelopment Authority.

Volterra, asked about the cemetery being established three years before the synagogue itself, said, "It makes sense in a way. You have a death, you have to be able" to deal with it according to Jewish law.

Volterra finds the cemetery "a place of quiet and peacefulness," when he visits the graves of his parents, Renzo and Germana Volterra. In addition, his paternal grandfather, Guido Volterra, and his maternal grandmother, Bianca Levi - all of whom came to this country from Italy- are buried there.

"It's perfect for us. We don't need a huge piece of land," he said.

The cemetery might be historic, but it's still vital.

An expansion of up to several hundred gravesites is planned, including a new interfaith section so that families will be able to be buried together.

Traditional Jewish law forbids non-Jewish persons, even spouses, from being buried next to observant Jews, but many cemeteries have been adding interfaith areas connected by a walkway to accommodate the needs of families with blended faiths.

Agudas Achim also will further accommodate visitors by building a sitting area with benches to the right of the entrance.

Volterra applauds the efforts to expand and improve the cemetery, and he singled out a generous gift from Steve Rubin, who lives out of the area, for helping to make the improvements and expansion possible.

Volterra also lauded the year-round cooperation of the cemetery's neighbors, the St. Stephen's Catholic and the Hillside cemeteries.

"It's a good relationship. It's worked wonderfully," he said, noting those caretakers also keep a watchful eye on the Jewish cemetery.

That is a far cry from the time before 1843, when Berenson said Jewish people were forbidden from being buried in Massachusetts cemeteries because of a Puritan-era law, forcing families to travel out of state to places that permitted Jewish burials to properly care for their deceased loved ones.

LARRY KESSLER is a Sun Chronicle local news editor. He can be reached at lkessler@thesunchronicle.com or at 508-236-0330.