KDVP – a little school with a giant impact

In the dust and dreams of 1950s Johannesburg, a handful of Jewish families stood on what was once a peach farm and imagined something extraordinary: a place where their children could learn, pray, and belong. With rolled-up sleeves and boundless determination, they built more than a school, they built a legacy. 

King David Victory Park began with a dream, and with parents who turned that dream into brick and mortar. Guided by love and purpose, they shaped not only walls, but a future. 

As former principal Jeffrey Wolf recalls, “From the very beginning, there was something special about King David Victory Park (KDVP). It wasn’t just about buildings or textbooks, it was about people.” 

From those humble beginnings, KDVP was born and became the little school that built giants. 

More than six decades later, that vision has come full circle. KDVP has been awarded the 2025 Mann Made Community Service Award, a tribute not only to its academic excellence, but to the generations of love, resilience, and belonging that it helped to build. 

KDVP has been far more than a school, “it has been a home”, said Wolf, a sanctuary of Jewish identity and a forge of character where compassion, curiosity, and courage were lived, not merely taught. Its story was one of grit, heart, and togetherness, he said. 

Its roots stretch back to 1958, when the Greenside and Emmarentia Hebrew Congregations appealed to the South African Board of Jewish Education (SABJE) to build a school for the growing community in the north-western suburbs. A 20-acre peach farm was purchased and steadily morphed into classrooms, and in 1960, the first 109 pupils walked through the doors of what would become a cornerstone of Jewish education. 

“The school’s foundation was literally laid by its community. Parents and teachers rolled up their sleeves, planting trees, mixing concrete, and levelling playing fields,” said Wolf. 

What emerged was not just a school, but a village built with love and determination. 

By 1968, Victory Park High School opened its doors to 250-odd pupils in a new complex – still modest, but filled with promise. That same year, David Ben-Gurion visited the school. As students sang Hebrew songs, he beamed at the sight of so many young Jewish faces, far from Israel yet bound deeply to its spirit. 

Few names are as synonymous with the school as Jeffrey Wolf and his wife, Barbara. Jeffrey joined the school in 1968, and went on to serve as principal from 1975 to 1998. Together with his twin brother, Elliot, who headed King David High School Linksfield, the two were affectionately known as “the twin principals”, shaping generations of Jewish students with wisdom, warmth, and discipline. 

“It was a thoroughbred community school from juniors to teenagers,” Wolf recalls. “This was felt in all the successes and achievements. From the sports fields to public speaking and chess, there was collective jubilation. Everybody took part in it, and was proud of what we had achieved. 

“I knew every student’s name, I knew their strengths and weaknesses, their personalities, and each person felt they had a place,” he said. 

Barbara, who taught Latin and English, said Jeffrey set an example by attending Shacharit prayers every morning. 

“I’m not ultra-Orthodox – traditional, yes – but I saw that as part of my duty. If the school was expected to be in shul, then I had to be there too, with them,” he said. 

The school’s strength, said Barbara, who became the school’s deputy head, came not only from its teachers, but from the extraordinary dedication of its parents. “One mother caught the bus every day from Emmarentia to serve in the tuck shop, never missing a day. No-one asked her to do this.” 

“The parents wanted a good school with the highest standards in secular subjects, but they also keenly and enthusiastically wanted Jewish education for their children,” said Wolf. 

“Luckily, I found a wonderful, devoted, outstanding team. There was a lovely harmony.” 

That harmony extended far beyond the walls of the classroom. It became a family school, where everyone from bobbas and zaidas to toddlers and teens felt at home, with a synagogue on the grounds giving a spiritual heartbeat to the campus. 

“In most schools, the juniors are treated as juniors by the seniors. It didn’t work out like that at Victory Park,” Wolf said. “The little ones felt totally at home with the bigger ones, and they were all friendly with one another.” 

Teachers stayed late, parents volunteered endlessly, and the children thrived in an atmosphere of warmth and care. “It was a school where every pupil mattered; where individuality was celebrated; faith was lived; and community was cherished,” said Wolf. 

Behind the scenes, beloved staff like Eida Schneiderman, Wolf’s devoted assistant for 25 years, kept the spirit alive. She dispensed Panado and kindness in equal measure, tending to children and staff alike with the same care she would give her own family. 

The school flourished academically, spiritually, and emotionally. From its classrooms emerged alumni who would go on to leave indelible marks across the globe. 

“The school produced 19 rabbis, many of whom were head boys and have become renowned,” said Barbara. 

“It’s a small school that has had a disproportionate impact on the world,” said Rabbi Ricky Seeff, general director of the SABJE and former principal of the primary school. 

“It has been home to thousands of South African Jews, and provided them with a superb education and deep-rooted appreciation for Judaism and community. It’s a warm place that created a culture of inclusivity and care and always punched above its weight.” 

He said the school had created a staunch loyalty and affinity among its alumni, who remain connected and passionate decades after leaving. 

“An incredible attribute is the success of alumni in so many fields,” he said. “There are famous rabbonim, artists, musicians, scientists, and business people. It’s remarkable what the school has produced, and the impact it has had on the globe. 

“It has been a mainstay of the community for 60 years, and it’s impossible for anyone in our generation to think of Johannesburg without it.” 

When news broke that the school was closing, the outpouring of emotion was immense. For many, it felt like the fading of something sacred, a piece of communal identity too precious to lose. 

As one alumnus wrote, “Victory Park wasn’t just where we learned. It was where we became.” 

As the school is honoured with the Mann Made Community Service Award, we are reminded that while buildings may close, legacies do not. The school’s story continues to echo through every life it touched.