Frances Greenberg (Chronicle photo by Christopher Rolinson)

But later this month, the diminutive, attractive octogenarian will finally realize a lifelong dream and make aliyah.

After almost 60 years in Pittsburgh, Greenberg, 88, is busy packing and selling her host of possessions she will leave behind. Soon, she will say farewell to a lifetime¹s accrual of friends.

She is emotional, but sure of her decision to leave her Forbes Avenue apartment to move to an independent living facility in Raanana, a northern suburb of Tel Aviv that is home to many immigrants to Israel. In Raanana, Greenberg will be close to her daughter, who has lived in Israel for 36 years, and her three grandchildren.

Born Frances Kanenbrand in Sierpe, Poland, in 1920, the seeds of Greenberg's ultimate quest for Israel were planted in 1939, when her involvement in the Zionist movement literally saved her life.

As a member of a Zionist youth movement, she left her hometown for a part of Poland occupied by Russia, hoping that life might be better there for a Jew than in Sierpe.

Her parents, a brother and two sisters remained behind, ultimately perishing at the hands of the Nazis; if Greenberg had not left Sierpe with the Zionist youth movement, she said, she would have been killed as well.

Eventually, Greenberg was sent to a work camp near Siberia, where she cut wood and worked in the fields until the end of World War II.

She briefly returned to her hometown in 1946 to see if anything of her parents' home, her grandparents' home, or their businesses could be salvaged.

"I came back to find nobody. Everything destroyed," Greenberg said. "I only found where our house was because it was near a synagogue that was still standing because the Germans used it for a stable."

Because the "circumstances in Poland were horrible," Greenberg said, after about two weeks, she went to a displaced person's camp in Germany.

Greenberg intended then that her ultimate destination would be Palestine, to be with the only family she had left: an aunt, an uncle and seven first cousins who had immigrated there in 1934, and who had been sending packages to her in Siberia during the war.

Although she met and grew fond of Isak Greenberg while in the camp in Germany, Isak had his heart set on moving to America, to be with his sister in Pittsburgh, so the two knew they would ultimately have to part.

In 1947, the British, who controlled Palestine at the time, were placing tight controls on Jewish immigration there. So, Greenberg was relieved when a cousin¹s friend, who worked for a Jewish agency, told her that the agency was organizing "a large boat to be sent straight to Israel," and that she could be on that ship. Greenberg said goodbye to Isak to begin her journey to Palestine. She and other survivors were sent by "covered wagon" to France, where, in July, they boarded the Exodus, an old American ship from Baltimore that the Jewish underground group Haganah had refurbished.

"There were many women, children, infants, men, pregnant women," said Greenberg. "We were all under assumed names."

"As soon as we reached the free waters of the Mediterranean, the English torpedoed us," she said. "A few people died. We were all sent on lower decks to hide from the tear gas.

"The boat was almost destroyed," she continued. "The leadership finally gave up their arms and let the English marines tow us to Haifa."

Once they reached Haifa, the 4,500 passengers of the Exodus were put onto three smaller boats holding about 1,500 passengers each, and were sent back to France. As Greenberg recalled, the passengers refused to disembark there, staying on the ships for a month. Finally, the British took the passengers to Hamburg, Germany, where they were put up in army barracks.

World public opinion was aghast at the actions of the British toward these Holocaust survivors, said Greenberg. "Because of that boat (the Exodus), the world awakened to the idea that the Jews needed a homeland. It awakened the conscience of the world."

Indeed, shortly after the Exodus' passengers were returned to Europe, the United Nations Special Committee on Palestine recommended partitioning the land to establish a Jewish state.

Although she was prohibited from immigrating to Palestine in 1947, something good did come from Greenberg's forced return to Europe. While in Hamburg, she reconnected with Isak, and they were married on May 7, 1948, just one week before the State of Israel declared its independence.

Isak still wanted to move to America, and Greenberg agreed. But Isak promised her that with the first $1,000 dollars they saved, she could travel to Israel to visit her family.

Isak, who became a tailor for Saks Fifth Avenue and eventually the owner of a dry cleaning store at the corner of Shady and Forbes avenues, made good on his promise. Greenberg made her first visit to Israel with her 5-year-old daughter in 1955 and has been back many times since then.

Frances and Isak had a good life together in Pittsburgh for almost 60 years, raising their daughter and a son, who now lives in Philadelphia. But now it¹s time for Greenberg to pack her bags and move on.

"My husband died a year ago," she said. Although it was a "tough decision" to give up the life she's known here for so long, it was the death of Isak which led her to decide once and for all to make aliyah.

"I feel very bad about leaving Pittsburgh and my friends," she said, but knows that it¹s the right choice to be near her daughter and grandchildren. Greenberg, who is still active in many organizations, also swims regularly and participates in a book club.

She is looking forward to the move as a new adventure, and is eager to make new friends in Raanana. At the age of 88, she acknowledges she's "gutsy."

(Toby Tabachnick can be reached at [email protected].)