Symbol of the North Erased After 70 Years: "A Piece of History That Disappeared"

For decades, the "Elite Instant Coffee" factory was an inseparable part of the landscape of Safed. The tall structure, the sounds of production, and the familiar scent that spread through the nearby neighborhoods turned it into a local landmark and a shared memory for generations of the city's residents.

Today, the structure was demolished to its foundations, exactly 70 years after its cornerstone was laid, to make room for a real estate project. For many residents, this is not just the disappearance of an old factory, but a farewell to a piece of local history that was tied to their childhood, their livelihood, and the smell of coffee that filled entire neighborhoods.

"They used to call it simply 'Nes Cafe'", says Yoni Lubliner, a long-time resident of the Shikun Amami neighborhood. "When the instant coffee era began, the snobs called it 'the cheap coffee from Safed', and today it is called 'the teachers' coffee'. For me, instant coffee in its original form, as a powder, is a wonderful coffee with many childhood flavors". Lubliner remembers the factory from the days when it seemed to the neighborhood children like a massive structure. "As long as I can remember, the tall shadow of the giant Nes Cafe factory, by the standards of those days, impressed me. The white smoke, the loud sounds of coffee production and maintenance, the trucks that left it - and of course the smell. The magical smell of coffee, which I loved to sniff every time an eastern wind blew towards Shikun Amami, where I lived and where I still live today".

The smell that heralded the Khamsin

Over the years, local stories were born around the factory. One of them linked the smell of coffee to the weather the next day. "One of the mythical rumors, which always turned out to be true, was that when we smelled the coffee scent in the neighborhood - it was a sign that there would be a Khamsin the next day", says Lubliner. "And so it was, always. The housewives would do their laundry that evening, because they knew that the laundry they hung would dry quickly".

The neighborhood children also gave the sounds and sights their own explanations. "Childhood passed with all sorts of rumors about giants working in the factory, making sounds of metal on metal, and that the smoke is their anger". However, alongside the nostalgia, the factory also aroused opposition over the years. As it expanded in the heart of the residential area, residents complained about noise, smoke, and pollution. The one who led the struggle was the veteran Safed journalist Yeshayahu Ashani, who acted for years against the hazards emitted from the tall structure that towered over the red roofs.

Lubliner admits that he found it difficult to support the struggle to close the factory, even though he was aware of his neighbors' suffering. "I could not come to terms with the fact that if the factory closed, about 90 families from Safed would lose their source of livelihood. After all, we all know that Safed never excelled in sources of employment".

Neighbors and media joined the protest, and the factory's chimneys were raised, new filters were installed, and steps were taken to reduce the noise. The factory continued to operate for about 60 years, even after it was purchased by the Strauss company, which, according to the residents, invested many resources in filtration and purification measures. Eventually, the activity at the factory was stopped, and the production of coffee powder was moved abroad. Since then, the structure stood in its place, even after the smell disappeared and the machines fell silent, as a reminder of a different era in the city.

Now, according to the published plan, six residential towers of 14 floors are supposed to be built on the site, where hundreds of families will live, alongside commercial areas. The project arouses a debate among the residents: is this a necessary renewal, or an additional burden on a crowded area, where access and exit routes are limited? "What was better for the city - a factory that provided a livelihood, or an urban hazard in a densely populated area? Time will tell", says Lubliner. "I know my opinion. I wish the entrepreneurs success, but I lost another piece of the city's history, which is fading away along with other historical pieces that have disappeared in recent years".

"No need to make coffee, just open the window"

Other residents also found it difficult to remain indifferent to the sight of the ruins. One of them said that she grew up opposite the factory and that the smell of coffee accompanied her every morning on her way to kindergarten. "My father would say to everyone who came to us: 'With us, you don't need to make coffee in the morning. Just hot water and a deep breath from the window'", she said. "It was part of Safed's identity".

According to her, the closing of the factory and its demolition are part of a broader process that the city is undergoing. "It is painful to see how Safed loses more and more symbols, workplaces, and history, and in their place receives towers and density. The factory could perhaps have been improved and adapted, but the memories, the livelihood, and the character of the city cannot be rebuilt".

Another resident said that he remembers mainly "the intoxicating smell that the factory would spread", but added that the current state of the city pains him even more. Another resident said that the factory and the smell of coffee remained an inseparable part of her childhood landscape: "It hasn't been operating for years, but the turn of the Amal school and Nes Cafe will always remain with us".

The structure has disappeared, and instead of chimneys, towers and balconies are expected to rise. But for those who grew up next to it, the coffee factory of Safed will remain identified with the eastern wind, with the Khamsin of the next day, and with a smell that could not be mistaken.