Sam came to the U.S.A. as a young man, settled in California .  The valley near Palo-Alto just began agricultural development, as water reached it at that point.

Sam was a natural farmer – he had feeling for the earth.  He would take some in his rough hands and feel its throb.  He understood it, and the land understood him and returned the feeling.  He owned over two thousand acres, growing mainly tomatoes.  This genius understood early the need for mechanical picking, to grow special kinds of tomatoes for canning.  Life was not easy, and his family found it difficult to adjust to the pioneering conditions under which California farmers lived in those days.  He stayed alone on his giant farm very often, and would come down and talk to his foreign workers.  They respected him, and although they had a lot of difficulty in understanding what he was saying, they understood him very well.  They also came from districts and countries where poor but obstinate farmers hang on to their arid land, and work it to the bone, to make it grow produce.  They, too, like Sam would watch the California sunset, and see in it another sunset to which they intended to return when they had saved enough money to establish a farm of their own.  Sam who watched the sunset and imagined the sunset in the Middle East .  His roots were there.

     A good friend of Sam’s introduced us in l959.  She told me that Sam was worthy of meeting someone with whom he could talk about Israel .  By then he had already made enough money, and enough standing and respect in the community, and let his son run the farm.  Now he was looking for a way to help Israel . I accepted what she said and we set to meet at the entrance to the U.N. building in New York .  I met an average height, stocky man in his sixties.  Showed him to the entrance. Instead of coming in, he dismissed the building and its occupants with a famous gesture, and suggested we take a walk instead.  When we started walking he asked: “are you a desk man or a field man?” I assume he got an answer he liked and said: “I would like you to come with me to meet my banker.  A very important man.” This is how I entered Sam’s life, and never exited till his death.  

The meeting took place.  It seemed to me that indeed he was very knowledgeable about Sam’s affairs, and the agricultural conditions in California .  He seemed full of admiration for Sam and for the way he ran his farm, turning a farm that could hardly sustained itself into a multi-million a year project.  The banker also showed a lot of interest to what was happening in Israel , as if saying “do I have a choice? Sam incessantly talks only about your country”. I obliged, and gave them what can we defined as a situation assessment.  Sam suddenly got up, came to my side, bent down and kissed me on the brow.  It would seem strange had it been anybody else, but with Sam, all his actions seemed natural.  The strength behind them covered the roughness.  

     Sam did come to Israel , and what he did here cover a lot of the history of agriculture in Israel .  He turned Israel into a cotton growing country.  As he believed only in action, he understood that he first had to have results before convincing others that this was what should happen.  This is how “Samuel’s Farm” in the Bet-Shean Valley came into being , and cotton became king.  He fought hard to convince people to start growing tomatoes for industry, and here too he succeeded in overcoming the objections of orthodox thinking.  Growing tomatoes for industry became a major factor in Israeli agriculture.  

Sam continued to look for new challenges and discovered the Israeli work in Africa .  

     One day, the phone in my office rang. On the other side I could recognize the familiar harsh voice: “do you want real agriculture in Africa , or just talk about it? So why do you prevent me from going there? I’ve just been to the Agriculture Ministry and was told that without the Ministry of Defence Missions management teams nothing can be done”.  When I finally had the chance to answer that I see no objection to his going to Africa , he said: “I am coming right over”. We prepared pamphlets of instructions for our team is Africa , asking them to assist Sam in anything they could.  Very soon afterwards, he burst into my office, with his bear hug and a kiss on the brow.  “What now?” I asked. “I had read your instructions. I am leaving tomorrow morning”.

    On my next visit in Africa I met him.  One could not find a happier man.  Farmers all over the world, sensed and guessed Sam’s agricultural genius.

My next meeting with Sam took place in San Francisco two weeks before the outbreak of the Six Day War (l967).  It was already obvious that there was going to be a war in the Middle East and it was my last fundraising meeting before taking off back to Israel .  The Israel Bonds representative asked me whether there was anything else I would like to do before leaving, and I said that the only thing I want to do now is visit Sam Hamburg.  I had just heard that he had been lying in Hospital, completely paralyzed, for some months.  They said that it was not allowed to visit him.  I insisted saying that I was going back to war, and it was important to see Sam and convince him he was not forgotten, and that we were interested in him.     They had to give in, and we went to the hospital.  A nurse met us barring our way.  I explained again this time saying I was a relative, and was going to war.  She examined me carefully, directed us to wait outside.  Some minutes later she came out, shivering with excitement. “he never reacts, but from time to time he manages to touch a bell near his bed to show he understands.  I keep whispering in his ear, never knowing whether he heard me or not, but now I whispered and the bell rang twice.  It never happened before.  

     I sat by him for about fifteen minutes, whispering in his ear, telling him what I thought was going to happen, and at the end I said that we are committed to doing what was necessary, and expect him to do the same, overcome his illness and come over. He didn’t move, just lay there; eyes closed and tears running down his wrinkled cheeks.  I bent own, and felt his fingers touching mine, holding my hand, directing it towards his face.  Then he kissed me for the third time, this time on my hand.  We both understood.  We were going to war.