Zicron-Jacob was a little town of one hundred and thirty "fires"--so we
call it--when, in 1910, on the advice of my elder brother, who was head
of the Jewish Experiment Station at Athlit, an ancient town of the
Crusaders, I left for America to enter the service of the United States
in the Department of Agriculture. A few days after reaching this country
I took out my first naturalization papers and proceeded to Washington,
where I became part of that great government service whose beneficent
activity is too little known by Americans. Here I remained until June,
1913, when I returned to Palestine with the object of taking
motion-pictures and stereopticon views. These I intended to use in a
lecturing tour for spreading the Zionist propaganda in the United
States.
During the years of my residence in America, I was able to appreciate
and judge in their right value the beauty and inspiration of the life
which my people led in the Holy Land. From a distance, too, I saw better
the need for organization among our communities, and I determined to
build up a fraternal union of the young Jewish men all over the country.
Two months after my return from America, an event occurred which gave
impetus to these projects. The physician of our village, an old man who
had devoted his entire life to serving and healing the people of
Palestine, without distinction of race or religion, was driving home one
evening in his carriage from a neighboring settlement.
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