News of the Past

In May, my husband and I visited Prague and Vienna. I am still processing all I saw and learned. Over the next few months I’ll write a few posts about the experience.

We hired a Czech genealogist, Julius Müller, to take us to the area my grandmother lived as a girl in the late 19th Century, and about which she wrote when she lived in San Francisco in the 1950s. She wrote stories about the 1889 influenza epidemic, local events and festivals, and mentioned that she had written a few articles for her father Adolf Löwy’s weekly newspaper, the Biela-Zeitung.

Although I don’t speak German, over the past few years I have spent hours poring over online issues of the Biela-Zeitung. The Austrian National Library had digitized several years of the paper, and I had been able to look through the first 10 years of the paper since its first publication in 1874. My grandmother was born in 1886, and on our trip I wanted to look through issues from the years after her birth. I hoped to find information about family events and about things my grandmother had written. One morning, Julius took my husband and me to the Czech National Archives in Prague where he had reserved several volumes of the paper.

At the Czech National Library Archives in the outskirts of Prague.

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Julius showed us how to identify death notices – they looked like advertisements, but were surrounded by a plain black border. One of the first things he found in the 1902 edition of the paper was a notice of Helene’s sister Ida’s death in 1902:

From supplement to Biela-Zeitung 1 January 1902 issue. From the Czech National Library Archives

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As publisher of the paper, Adolf probably didn’t have to worry about the cost of taking out a notice other than lost advertising revenue. He printed a full-page notice, which seemed to emphasize what a tragedy it was for the family.

The notice translates:

Anyone who has suffered a similar fate in their life as we have will understand our deep and justified pain over the unexpected and unfortunately all too early passing of our beloved good wife, mother, daughter and sister, Mrs

Ida Zrzawy, née Löwy
Engineer’s wife in Brüx

and will feel and understand the pain and sorrow that comes, along with the inability to adequately thank everyone for the expressions of heartfelt sympathy from so many through verbal and written condolences and accompaniment to the grave….

Many thanks
The deeply grieving Zrzawy-Löwy family

My grandmother wrote a story called “Dandelions in May 1902” where she told the story of the upheaval Ida’s death caused the family. Everything changed from that moment. Helene’s mother Rosa moved in with Ida’s husband and their 4 children, all under the age of 8. Her sister Mathilde also moved there to help with the family, ultimately marrying the widower a year later. Helene was the only family member still home with Adolf. In addition to his grief, he was left managing the business side of his printing and publishing enterprise (which Rosa had done) as well as continuing writing and publishing of the paper. Helene wrote that her father seemed to age overnight.  

Reading Ida’s obituary, printed evidence of my family’s trauma, confirmed what I knew in an intimate, immediate, and personal way.

During our day at the Czech archive, we were not able to look through all the volumes Julius had reserved, but I knew we could do the same at the Austrian National Library in Vienna the following week. I wrote to make arrangements to visit the library and reserve the volumes I still wanted to review. To my delight, the librarian told me that more volumes of the Biela-Zeitung had been digitized up to 1898 so I only needed to look at a few later volumes, knowing I could look online at home.

I enjoy being able to look at digital editions because the technology is so good that I can search for a word or name and get results. However, there was something special about seeing and touching the paper that my great-grandfather published and my grandmother read.

The first thing I did when I got home from our trip was to download the additional volumes that had been digitized. I then searched for “Helene” in the 1886 volume, even though I didn’t recall seeing birth announcements when I had looked through the newspaper before (not that I would know what to look for). Imagine my delight when I found the following in the November 27, 1886 edition, 4 days after my grandmother was born:

From the Austrian National Library digital archives of the Biela-Zeitung.

Church News:
Born:
…Helene, daughter of Adolf Löwy, Bookseller

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And so the story begins!

More sifting through history

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Earlier this year, my husband and I took a trip to England. A few weeks before we left, I received an email from the World Jewish Relief Archives in response to a question I had asked about my mother’s first cousins Paul and Robert Zerzawy’s attempts to leave Europe in 1939. Robert was the first in the family to get out, arriving in England in March 1939. Paul soon followed in April, stopping briefly in England before sailing to New York.

I must have made my query through their website and have no record of when or what I asked. The writer, an archives volunteer, apologized for how long the response had taken. She explained that “World Jewish Relief (formerly known as The Central British Fund) opened case files for each person who came to the United Kingdom fleeing Nazi occupied Germany and Austria before the Second World War.” She told me that she found a registration card for my mother’s first cousin Robert Zerzawy and also “registration cards for an uncle by the name of Vitali (Chaim) Cohen and his wife Helene (nee Cohen).” That of course was important information for me since those were my maternal grandparents! If I understand the cards, it looks like the ones for Vitali and Helene were created by Robert after he learned of Helene’s release from Ravensbrück and the prisoner trade that sent her to Istanbul. The Istanbul address is the business address of one of Vitali’s relatives who helped my grandmother ultimately make her way to the U.S. The only thing Robert knew about Vitali in late 1945 or early 1946 was that he had last been heard from when he was imprisoned in Buchenwald.

Robert’s card indicates that the authorities believed he may have gone to the U.S. This corroborates family letters which talk of Robert planning to join his family in San Francisco. Unfortunately, that never came to pass.

Information provided by the World Jewish Relief Archives

I wrote back and asked whether the archives had any information about the Stopford Fund which was created to help Czech refugees get out. I believe that this fund helped Robert and Paul emigrate. The volunteer had not heard of it but kindly did a bit of sleuthing and found that the National Archives at Kew in the outskirts of London had information about the fund. I went on their site and asked some questions through their “chat” feature. Although I ultimately found no information in the Stopford Fund files related to the Zerzawy brothers, the librarian on the chat found Robert’s British naturalization certificate. It hadn’t been digitized, but since I was going to be in London, I could make an appointment to view the document.

The National Archives at Kew

It was fun to do something non-touristy while in another country. I took the train to Kew. Unlike other tourists, I headed for the archives instead of the famous gardens. I was given an official library card and requested the file. When the file was ready, I was assigned a specific spot in the reading room where I could look at it. The naturalization certificate told me a bit more about Robert, including his occupation – an expert in hemp and cotton spinning.

While I waited for the file, a librarian helped me search further in the online catalog and we discovered that there were additional documents available related to Robert’s naturalization. I tried to request them, but for some reason these documents had been closed for 100 years until 2069! I knew I couldn’t wait that long and made a Freedom of Information (FOI) request to be allowed to see the files. The request was granted, but not in time for me to go back to see the files in person.

When I received the digitized documents I’d requested, I learned more about Robert’s first years in England – about the company he worked for and some of his early experiences. For example, in 1940, his landlady had said negative things to police authorities about his “moral conduct” with no details or corroboration from others. Later character witnesses for his naturalization said nothing but positive things. It made me wonder whether this was an example of antisemitism or xenophobia. Not long ago, we watched the first episode of “Foyle’s War”. It takes place in 1940 and showed clearly how unwelcome Jewish refugees were to much of the general population in England during the war.  

Also on this trip, I visited a few of the addresses Robert lived in in the 1960s. An apartment building in the Kensington area of London and a small house in Chiswick, a lovely town near London. I didn’t have a house address for the Chiswick, just a name – Pontana. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to find it. However, it exists, and it still has the name rather than a number!

Apartment in Kensington

“Pontana” in Chiswick

It was wonderful to learn more about Robert. I still have questions about why he never joined the family in San Francisco. Hopefully one day I will find the answer. 

A Family Heirloom

As I mentioned in my last post, in 1979, my mother flew to France to join me at the end of my junior year abroad in Montpellier, France. She had not been to Europe since she and her brother had been forced to flee Vienna 40 years earlier.

While in Paris walking around Montmartre, my mother paid a sketch artist to make a charcoal portrait of me. I never felt that the portrait looked much like me, but my mother was happy with the likeness. Perhaps I just didn’t like the way I looked! She was inspired to have the drawing made thanks to a pastel portrait she had of her own mother which had been done in the 1930s in Vienna. My mother and her brother brought the portrait them when they came to the U.S. in 1939.  

Upon arriving back home in San Francisco, my mother framed the sketch and hung it on her bedroom wall, accompanying the one of her mother which already hung there. Although I didn’t like my own portrait, I thought the artist captured my grandmother’s likeness well.

I don’t recall seeing my grandmother’s portrait before 1979, but perhaps it was hanging in our home throughout my childhood.

When my mother moved to the condo I live in now, her mother’s portrait hung prominently in the dining room. I loved seeing her each time I visited, looking out on her family. After my mother’s death, I stored the portrait safely in a closet.

In 2017, when I began going through my family papers, I brought out the portrait again to add it to the digital archive I was making. I then hung it up in our hallway. Looking at a newly digitized photo of my mother’s 16th birthday party from May 1937, I could see clearly something I had not noticed on the small original 2-1/2x3inch photo – my grandmother’s portrait was hanging on the wall in their dining room! I loved that my grandmother was now looking at me every time I walked down the hallway, just as her image had looked on she and her family in their home in Vienna.

Recently, I wondered whether my grandmother’s nephew Robert Zerzawy had made the portrait – he had been an accomplished artist. I was going to ask Sherlock Cohn (a woman who helps identify people and places in old photos) to compare the drawing to others I know he had made. Before doing that, however, it occurred to me to take the portrait (gingerly) out of the frame and see whether it was signed. Indeed it was! As so often has happened on this journey, I discovered that the story I told myself about the object was not true. The portrait was signed and dated by Wilhelm Wachtel in 1937 – so the portrait was quite new when my mother celebrated her birthday. My grandmother’s 50th birthday was in November 1936. Perhaps the portrait was made in honor of that milestone.

There is not much information available on Wilhelm Wachtel. It appears that he was born in Poland in 1875 and died in the US in 1952. He seems to have been prolific and fairly well-known when he was alive. If you do an internet search, you can see many examples of his work.

What an amazing artifact that gets richer each time I look at it!

Top photo: at their home in Vienna on my mother’s 16th birthday in 1937 with the portrait on the wall behind them and a red line pointing to Eva; bottom left photo: at my mother’s home in San Francisco with her brother Harry and her caregiver with the portrait on the wall behind them; bottom right photo: the portrait itself.

December 5

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Today we have another early letter from Helene in Vienna, at a time when she and Vitali were confident that they would soon be following their children to San Francisco.

Vienna 5 December 1939

My dear children! An eventful week has just passed for me. We got mail 2 days in a row, but unfortunately not from you. Olga N acknowledged my card which I wrote on November 23, yesterday. It of course reached her late as seems obligatory. She told me that she sent a message to you immediately upon receiving it on the 30th of November. The second letter was from Mila and Nervi [?] and we found out that Robert is Ayrshire. He is feeling well and glad to hear the same about you and Paul. I am happy at least to receive good news from all of you in indirectly. And as an unkillable optimist, I believe that one or the other of the letters written will reach you.

Otherwise, it is fairly quiet in Seidlgasse. Yesterday it was a very lovely springlike day. Papa called to invite me to take an evening walk. We walked first through the dark streets and then we came to the Red Tower movie house. There was a shoot ‘em up film being shown and since it was about the construction of the Pacific-Railway, we went in. Harry would be very surprised because we don’t like things about shooting anymore. But at the end, when the train in its current form rushed across the movie screen, my heart stopped for just a few seconds at the thought that my children were just recently sitting in such a monster of steel and iron. Really, a lot of what has happened to you is so problematic for me and my imagination is certainly quite different from what it was.

The truth is that I feel old as the hills and I feel like a hen would feel if she were hatching duck eggs and I am clucking. When the young ones go to the water and happily swim away from her for the first time, she probably can’t believe her eyes in that situation. But I’m an intelligent hen, and even if I do cluck sometimes, I am happy to know that you are with people who are good and noble.

Please kids, be detailed in your reports, write me about each and every thing, and you may imagine that your letters will reach me someday and that I will be informed by letter about everything. I know it’s a lot to ask in such a completely different environment from where you’ve been before, but I think it’s justified.

After 9 in the morning, the whole day is pretty uninteresting to me. There are just so many minutes until the next time I get mail and a lot of what has happened is really not that essential to me.

What I also want to tell you is please don’t get mad if I mention something that is kind of obvious -- don’t forget to write to Olga. First, it is possible for me to get news and besides it is as somebody once said that you only recognize the value of a person except on the worst days. Olga invited me to spend some time with her before we say good-bye to Seidlgasse forever.  I wasn’t wrong about Hedy either. She arrived at my birthday with a piece of butter which her parents had given her so she’d have something to eat on her trip. Touching, isn’t it? In these days, we are doubly thankful for proof that humanity still exists.

For statistical reasons, I am mentioning that this is the 3rd Clipper letter which I have sent. The others don’t count.

To all the dear ones, many, many greetings and to each one of you, thank you very much.

Many, many kisses
Mutti

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After just a few weeks’ separation, Helene realizes that mail is unreliable and asks Eva and Harry to write to friends and relatives in the hope that news about her children will reach her through their letters. Helene mentioned her friend Olga in several Vienna letters, including one in which we learned that her last name was Nussbaum. I did a quick search on Ancestry and found a physician named Olga Nussbaum who was born in Vienna and was a year younger than Helene. She was living in England by 1941, moved to Los Angeles in 1948, and returned to Vienna a few years later. She may be the correct Olga, but who knows?  

Cecil B. DeMille directed a movie that came out in 1939 entitled Union Pacific — perhaps that is the film that Helene and Vitali saw. The trailer would strike terror in anyone considering a cross-country train trip, such as the one Helene’s children had taken just six weeks earlier.

Piecing together my family’s story has not been altogether straightforward. My mother had some letters and papers, her brother had others, and some were originally in their cousin Paul Zerzawy’s possession and ultimately were kept and organized separately. In 2006, I discovered the 1945-1946 letters written by Helene from Istanbul. I could read the few that were in English, and from those I learned more detail about my grandmother’s wartime experience. I made copies for Harry, thinking he’d like to see old letters from his mother, having no idea about the hundreds of letters he had stashed away. After Harry’s death in 2017, I didn’t know which of the letters were worth translating, so my translator friend Roslyn and I began with the typed letters, which were easier to decipher. Thus, Roslyn didn’t translate the first letters Helene wrote by hand to her children until after she had translated most of the later Vienna letters.  

November 12

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

The Value of a Translator

I found the letters we see today in the same box where Harry kept his memorabilia from his and Eva’s trip to America on the Rex (see October 9 post) in October 1939. Not knowing German, I tried to understand why a woman (a baroness, no less!) had sent an outline of her hand to Harry or Eva. I assumed she was someone they had met on the ship. We learned earlier that their relatives in Istanbul had decided that Eva needed to learn a trade that would be useful for someone emigrating to the U.S. – she learned to make silk flowers (see May 30th post). In the 1990s, my mother made outlines of everyone in the family’s hand shape with the intention of making each of us a pair of leather gloves (unfortunately, she never got around to making them). When I saw the drawing on today’s letter, I assumed the baroness was commissioning my mother to make her a pair of gloves because they had discussed it on the ship. How wrong I was!!

After Harry died in January 2017, I began going through many boxes of papers, photos, and letters. There was no organization, so each box or envelope contained a surprise. By April 2017, I was overwhelmed by the number of letters and documents I had in German. I had no idea what most of them said or whether they were important. I needed a translator and was at a loss to find one. The final straw was finding a box of letters that I thought was filled with Helene’s correspondence – I was so happy to think I had been given a window into my grandmother’s world. Imagine my disappointment when half the box was filled with a smaller box containing the Zerzawy brothers’ World War I correspondence! At that point, I still thought of them as distant and unimportant relatives.

As I went to sleep that night, my brain was churning with how to move forward. In the middle of the night, I woke up recalling that I had gone to college with a woman who completed a PhD in German. Roslyn and I had connected a few times over the decades, but not recently. The last time we had been in touch, she was a faculty member at a local university. I hit a dead end searching the college directory because she had retired. Not being on Facebook, I asked my husband to search for her through his account. Happily, he found her and we reconnected. That middle-of-the-night aha moment led to almost four years of our working together and to my getting to know my family in a way I could never have imagined.

When we met for the first time in a café in June 2017, I showed Roslyn a few documents to give her a sense of the kinds of things that needed translating. This was months before I found the envelope that was stuffed with almost 100 of the letters Helene wrote from Vienna in 1939-1941. I brought the letter with the drawing on it since it was short and looked easy to read. What a surprise when I discovered its actual contents! 

Mandrake Collector

As you may remember, you have my hand in one of your books.  I now live in America and am slowly making a name for myself as a graphologist, and I am now getting to a place socially where it would be advantageous to use my connections to achieve something positive. I think that in my position as Baroness Hasenauer and graphologist, I could work well with mandrake root if I get enough articles into the newspapers.  Couldn’t we work together? And should we sell them for an expensive price, or “lend” them?  Where could I get mandrake roots to satisfy requests I may get? Maybe you could provide part of your collection. If you need references, maybe the German Consulate here?  May I hope to hear from you soon?

Best Wishes,
Elvira Hasenauer

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12 November

Madame.

I have received your letter with the original topography [of the hand]. Unfortunately, I was not able to find your handprints in my collection, which consists of 2997 pairs of hands.  Unless you could tell me in your next letter when you had come to see me.

Regarding your request about mandrake root and our possible collaboration, I would be glad to pursue this suggestion as soon as I arrive in the USA, which has been my plan for some time. I have already submitted [application] to the American Consulate; I would be very grateful if you could use your connections to ensure quick immigration for me and my wife. I would then bring over my mandrake collection, my handprint collection and all related works.  It is an interesting field that would be suitable for both parties.

Included is a brochure containing some of the expert appraisals I have received.  If you wish, I can send you an English translation of this which I am working on.

Sincerely,

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There is little easy-to-find information on the Baroness. In a newspaper search, I found an article taken from marriage records about her marriage in the December 8, 1938 edition of Baltimore Evening Sun, and announcements in the Reno Gazette of her subsequent divorce proceedings the following summer. The former stated that she married a 28-year old New York composer named Carlos Muller. She was 33-years old and “identified herself as a countess of Holland, divorced in Austria in 1937. She stated she was a graphologist.”

The Baroness’s letter is undated and the copy of Vitali’s reply does not have a year. I assume the letters were written in 1939, when Vitali got his testimonials translated (see May 22nd post) and was working to get papers so he and Helene could join their children in San Francisco.

Vitali’s handprint and mandrake collections are described in the 1934 newspaper article that we saw in the June 29th post. The Baroness had great confidence in Vitali’s abilities, thinking that the outline of her hand would be sufficient for Vitali to recall their meeting! Below is a photo of Vitali making a handprint in one of his books:

Archived with these letters was a newspaper clipping about an odd-shaped branch (not mandrake). Given that the Baroness mentions newspaper articles, it’s quite possible that she included this with her letter. In preparing today’s post, I did a quick search for “mandrake” in the New York Times, and found very few mentions, most of them before 1930.

November 7

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have a letter from G.I. Harry Lowell to his sister Eva in San Francisco. He is in desert training in southern California (see August 16 post).

November 7, 1943

Dear Sister,

Well, I’ve finally decided to write you a letter – after a lot of struggling with myself. This is the first letter I have written since I came back from my furlough.

You’ve probably received that recording from L.A. by now; I don’t think that voice sounds like mine at all, do you? The lady that made the record at the U.S.O. dragged me into her studio, and I couldn’t say no.

How is everything going with you? Did you find a job that suits you yet?

We are having quite a few sandstorms these days; have you ever been in a sandstorm? Most of our tents were blown away or torn; we have to wear goggles to protect our eyes; the food consists of 50% sand; our rifles and trucks are clogged up most of the time, etc. All in all, it’s a mess. We are told that it wouldn’t last much longer. (I hope)

On my trip to the desert I looked all over for snakes, but I didn’t even see a lizard. As for cacti (cactuses? cactusi?), I saw very beautiful ones but wasn’t able to get any because they belonged to a hotel at Palm Springs. Tell Mrs. Koenig (I think that’s her name) I’ll keep looking.

I have been quite disgusted lately; blue is the word. The other day I drove for the salvage depot and saw one of a few examples of inexcusable waste. Brand new test tubes, pill boxes, first aid kits (containing hard-to-get drugs), loads of filter paper, and cases of sodium amytal for injections. All these things had been thrown together with old clothes, storm tents, shoes, and other salvage. I could have killed the officer who was responsible for such an outrageous waste of and unconcern for valuable government property. Grr!

Quite a few of the men in the company are getting soft gums and bad teeth because a stupid bastard of a colonel or general has made up his mind to feed us canned food only. Oh, I am so mad*!@% (Could you send me a set of teeth?)

Well, that’s all for now. Say hello to your household, keep your nose clean, and don’t get into any fights with the family.

As always,
Your favorite brother,
Harry

P.S. How about that picture? What’s your phone number?

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I included a photo of a USO recording Harry made in the May 3rd post – I assumed he had made it for her birthday. I have a vague memory of listening to it when I was a child, but can no longer make it work.

In this and other letters, Harry refers to Mrs. Koenig – she was the mother of Eva’s fellow nursing student Ursula Lucks and Eva’s landlady for many years. I remember her as a sweet old lady who took me to the zoo. Earlier this year I searched on Ancestry for more information, and discovered that Margaret Koenig was born in Germany in 1898. Her daughter Ursula Lucks also was born in Germany. Margaret was widowed before coming to the U.S. with Ursula in 1927. According to the 1930 census, she worked as a wrapper in a candy factory (shades of I Love Lucy!). In 1934, she married Ewald Koenig, also an emigré from Germany.

Here is a photo from the late 1940s of Helene, Mrs. Koenig, her husband, daughter, and my parents:

Back row: Helene, Mrs. Koenig’s second husband Ewald Koenig, Ursula Lucks, Eva
Front row: Margarate Koenig, Eva’s husband LP Goldsmith

October 17

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After graduating from high school in 1941 at the age of 17, Helene’s son Harry worked for the Levi-Zentner produce company in Sacramento. Matilda (Tillie) Zentner was Helene’s first cousin and her husband was co-owner of the company. They were instrumental in Harry and Eva’s coming to the U.S. 1939 and arranged for them to stay with other cousins. There were clear rules and expectations for the younger generation and Harry and Eva quickly found ways to become independent.

Today we have an article that Harry saved from the Sacramento Bee. I recently did a search on Newspapers.com and found that it appeared in the paper on October 17, 1942.

The YMANDOS in Action

The Ymandos are the recruits of the Sacramento Young Mens Christian Association physical culture classes in which prospective members of the armed forces, war workers and men now in service attain and maintain physical fitness.

The program includes weight lifting, judo, play gymnastics, pulley weights, stall bars, wall climbing, calisthenics and scientific tests to determine vital capacity, strength, flexibility, motor ability, swimming ability, agility and endurance. 

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Harry appears in the photo indicated by an arrow. The caption reads “Harry Lowell practices going through a small opening speedily.” As his granddaughter said upon seeing the photo, “Grandpa was a hunk!”

Harry made many copies of another Sacramento Bee article from January 9, 1943 on the subject of self-defense:

Hand to Hand
It’s an Art

Judo, the art of self defense, is taught at the Young Mens Christian Association by Merle Corrin.

His civilian classes, composed chiefly of young men preparing to enter the armed services, now are augmented by officers from the military establishment in this area.

Judo is the answer, they say, to the hand to hand combat which comes with war.

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Caption for top 2 photos on the left: Harry Lowell, left, locks hands to break Frank Moore’s strangle hold. And here’s what happens…He swings his arms upward, breaking the strangle hold and striking his assailant in the face. He follows through with knee to groin.

Caption for the bottom 3 photos:

• The Judo come along hold is illustrated at lower left by Frank Moore, front, and Harry Lowell.

• In another come along hold at left, Merle Corrin’s victim is Harry Lowell. A little pressure would break Lowell’s wrist or thumb or both.

• Above, Frank Moore uses a cross arm grip on Harry Lowell’s jacket for a strangle hold. Moore’s knuckles against Lowell’s neck halt the flow of blood to his head.

Recently I did a search for Harry’s name in the Sacramento Bee and discovered that he was mentioned in many articles in 1942-1943, the vast majority of them in the sports section when he competed for the YMCA in badminton, swimming, and indoor rifle. By April 1943, he was in basic training in Wyoming.

I’ve been wondering as I find newspaper articles about family members whether this is unusual – are other families so well-documented? This year, I’ve found newspaper articles about most of the men in the family: Vitali and his son Harry, and Harry’s cousin Paul Zerzawy. Does their affinity for newsprint spring from Harry’s and Paul’s mutual grandfather, Adolf Löwy, publisher of the Biela-Zeitung in Bilin in the late 19th century?

October 14

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As we’ve seen in past posts, Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy had difficulty landing on his feet when he came to America. He had years of education and several degrees, had risen in the ranks as a soldier in World War I, and had a successful career in Vienna. Yet, when he arrived in the U.S. in 1939 at the age of 43, he had neither the means nor the skills necessary to have a successful career. He fell back on his skills as a musician and became a piano teacher and accompanist.

Today we see a flyer for a benefit concert held at a private home in Berkeley, California on October 14, 1946.

The concert raised money to help settle European Jewish war orphans in Birobidjan/Birobidzhan in the farthest reaches of eastern Siberia. Note the price of postage in 1946: 1-1/2 cents! This remote area was designated by the USSR as the “Jewish Autonomous Region”. Although there was a revival of the area from 1946-1948, Stalin soon made life hell for the Jews living there -- unfortunately these generous people probably made things worse for those poor children.

Paul accompanied a Polish contralto named Anna Opaletska in music by Brahms and Polish and Russian folk songs. It appears that he accompanied her on a fairly regular basis. In trying to find more about Miss Opaletska, I found an article from the October 11, 1946 issue of the Oakland Tribune which described the upcoming event:

from newspapers.com: page 14 of the October 11, 1946 issue of the Oakland Tribune

Affair Set for War Orphans

Polish and Russian folk songs, presented by Miss Anna Opaletska in native costume, will be a feature of the tea Monday afternoon at 2:30 at the home of Mrs. Henry Sicular on La Loma Avenue, Berkeley, to benefit European war orphans.

Giving the tea is the Bay Area American Biro-Bidjan committee, whose work [is] toward resettlement and rehabilitation of orphans and refugees in Biro-Bidjan, a Jewish autonomous republic of the U.S.S.R.

Paul Zerzawy of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, who will accompany Miss Opaletska, is also donating his talents to the benefit. Sponsors include….

A report on work being done or planned for Biro-Bidjan orphans will be made at the tea by J.B. Aronoff based on information just brought to this country by B.Z. Goldberg, National Committee representative. Dr. Albert Einstein is national president of the committee.

Apparently the fund was set up in 1945 and was known as the “Einstein Fund”.

We have already spent a fair amount of time this year in another part of eastern Siberia, where Paul’s brother Erich spent the last years of his brief life at a POW camp in Beresowka/Beresovka. They do not appear to be close to each other except compared to anywhere in Europe.

I do not know which Brahms songs were played, but I found a Brahms song for contralto, viola, and piano which gives us some idea.

October 9

Voyage to America – young and carefree

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

I spent most of my life thinking that my 18-year old mother and her 15-year old brother were wrenched by the separation from their parents as took the train in Vienna to Genoa to board the ship headed for New York. After reading Helene’s letters, I realize that although being apart must have been a challenge, the entire family was confident in October 1939 that they would be reunited within a few months. They had no idea they would never see their father again and would not see their mother until 1946 after she had been through hell.

Thus, Eva and Harry could look forward to their voyage and future with enthusiasm and optimism. My mother always spoke fondly of the ocean voyage. For a brief period in her life, she was carefree – no responsibilities, no expectations, and the promise of America before her. Rather than being a foreigner in a new land and school, she was surrounded by others making the same voyage with the same hopes, who were not judging her accent, clothes, or manner. She loved every moment and as soon as she could afford it, she took cruises all over the world. I imagine none of them lived up to her first experience of traveling 3rd class on the “Rex”.

Growing up, my mother had a small album of photos from Europe, which included these 2 photos of her on board the ship:

 On back of the photo with Eva in a bathing suit, with the date 10/10/1939:

When I was going through Harry’s boxes of documents and letters after he died in 2017, I found a roll of negatives labeled 1939. I held them up to the light and only one photo seemed familiar – the one with Eva on deck with a scarf. Since the photo of her in the bathing suit is not on the roll, I assume that Luis Antonio Martinez sent her that photo.

I realized that the roll of film included images from their voyage and first moments in San Francisco and got the negatives digitized. Imagine my delight at seeing their voyage and new world through Eva and Harry’s eyes.

Harry documented much of the trip, presumably in order to send photos back to their parents in Vienna, which I imagine is why we had no hard copies of the photos. Below, we see a grainy photo of an Italian town, presumably Genoa. From the ship, we see a vendor selling rugs to a crowd of people below, other ships in the harbor, the deck of the Rex, and even the “view” from their porthole.

Here is a photo of Harry on board the ship:

Harry saved a menu from the ship – I don’t know whether they had menus for each meal, or just for October 12 in honor of Columbus Day – which must have been quite the celebration since the ship departed from Genoa, the birthplace of Christopher Columbus. Apparently even the 3rd class passengers were invited to participate in the dancing or watching the featured film La Mia Canzone al Vento of the evening which featured Giuseppe Lugo, a famous Italian tenor. Harry used the menu as a sort of autograph book – someone wrote a nice note and a few people included their addresses.

Harry kept in touch with at least one of the people, Elsy Howard, who sent him a card the following year from the New York World’s Fair, on which she wrote around the edges: "Many thanks for letter, which I will answer later. Hope you like Amerika now. Best regards, also to Maria, Elsy Howald."

After nine fun-filled days at sea, Eva and Harry arrived in New York. In one of my first forays into searching through Ancestry at the public library in 2017, I found the ship’s manifest page of arriving passengers on the Rex that showed Eva Marie Kohen and Harry Kohen’s departure from Genoa on October 6 and arrival in New York on October 15, 1939. They are listed as students, Turkish citizens who could speak English , born in Vienna, Germany (Austria had been annexed), planning to live permanently in the US. They had visas issues July 31, 1939 from their last permanent residence of Istambul, Turkey. Amazing what you can learn from a line from a ship’s manifest!

In August, I attended a Jewish genealogy conference, and at one session the speaker mentioned that manifests covered two-pages. I went back to Ancestry and found page 2:

We learn that their father was named Simeon (presumably a mishearing of Haim Seneor) who lived in Vienna, Germany; that their final destination was San Francisco; that they paid their own way; that they had $8 in their possession provided by HIAS; that they were planning to reside at 200 Washington St. in San Francisco (I’m not sure whose address that was); that they did not plan to return to their home country and intended to become U.S. citizens; that they were never in prison, were not polygamists, anarchists, did not believe in overthrowing the government; they did not have a promise of employment; had never been arrested and deported; that they were in good mental and physical health and had no deformities; their height, complexion, hair and eye color, and had no other identification marks.

A new piece of information was that they had received $8 from HIAS – worth over $150 in today’s dollars, – although probably not enough money for the journey from New York to San Francisco.

I spent most of my life having a vague idea of Eva’s and Harry’s voyage. I had only seen the first two photos above. After discovering Harry’s trove of saved objects and photos and doing some research, I now feel like I have a sense of what it was like. A wonderful window onto the beginning of their new life.

October 6

Other voices from the past

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As I was getting ready to prepare today’s post, I realized that the letter I had planned to write about wasn’t completely translated. It was one of several that my original translator had trouble reading. I had ascribed the problem to difficult handwriting, but now understand that it was written in the old German script. We will see the letter at a later date.

When I began trying to make sense of my many documents, I contacted the US Holocaust Memorial Museum when I was trying to find contact information for historian Corry Guttstadt because she had done a fellowship there. From that contact, I learned a great deal about my grandmother and my family and I made a new friend. I requested information about my father’s parents and they sent me documents from the International Tracing Service. They had been deported from Frankfurt on September 1, 1942 to Theresienstadt. According to one of the documents, my grandmother Rosa Adler Goldschmidt says she was transported to Maly Trostinec. Although there was no proof of death, the letter said that fewer than 10% of prisoners returned after the war.

My father was born in 1907 in Gelnhausen, a town in Germany not far from Frankfurt am Main. He came to the U.S. in 1934. At that time, his parents were living in Frankfurt. He had a brother who also came to the U.S. and lived in San Francisco for a few years, but I never met him and do not know where or when he died. He never spoke about his family.

In 2007, I began going through the papers my mother had saved. These included: her mother’s letters sent from Istanbul in 1945-1946; the letters Harry sent her when he was a G.I. in 1943-1945; Paul Zerzawy’s photo albums, school records, bank records from 1939, and his death certificate. She also had about 2 dozen letters from my father’s family.

When I first began looking through those papers, I asked for help from a few German speakers. Although they were able to read Helene’s letters, none of them could decipher the letters written by my father’s parents. When Amei Papitto started translating Paul Zerzawy’s letters written in the old German handwriting, I asked her to look at them and she couldn’t read them either. I had resigned myself to never knowing what the letters said.

When I contacted Michael Simonson at the Leo Baeck Institute a few months ago to ask for some advice, I mentioned my father’s letters. He asked me to send a few examples and he would see whether one of the LBI volunteers might be able to read them. Incredibly, he could!

In early August, Michael sent me the translation of the undated letter below. Imagine my delight at hearing my paternal grandmother’s “voice” for the first time. Given my grandparents’ tragic end, I’m glad that they were not silenced forever.

My dear children!

We were very happy with your dear letter, particularly since you sound so satisfied. Have you gotten properly settled in your apartment? Now let me give you the recipe for a potato soup. You start some water boiling, cut small cubes of potatoes, some celery, leeks, carrots, everything cut small, and also some cauliflower, place it in the water and let it cook until it is soft, then put some fat in a little pan, some onions, cut small, brown two spoons of flour in it, stir in a little water until it’s smooth, then pour into the potato soup, bring to a boil and add 1 small sausage per person. Now the recipe for wafer cuts. Mix ¼ pound butter, 30g grated chocolate, 2 whole eggs, 2 heaping spoons of crushed sugar cubes, allow this to dry on a sheet smeared with wafers, allow the mass and the wafers to dry alternately when everything is ready. Finally, cut.

If you would like another recipe, write to me I will gladly send it to you. If you make the potato soup, dear Tane <?> should also eat with you. You must also put 1 or 2 small sausages in it. Aside from that I know of nothing to write for today. Sending warmest greetings and kisses. Your faithful

                                                                     Mother

I was charmed that the first thing I “received” from my grandmother was recipes for my father’s favorite foods! It took me a while to figure out what a “wafer cut” cookie is. I tried reverse translation and came up with “Waffelschnitte”. They are the layered wafer cookies known to us as Neapolitin wafers.

Below is the only family photo I have that I believe shows my father’s family - I assume the baby is my father and the people in the photo are his parents and three of his grandparents.

September 29

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Today we see the second part of the letter we saw on September 16 from soldier Paul Zerzawy to his family. As with so many things on my journey, mysteries and missing links have a way of being solved. Pretty amazing after over 100 years.

Upon transcribing the translation for a letter we will see in October, I discovered that it solved the puzzle of the earlier letter. That letter is dated October 3, 1918 and is written to his brother Robert, but included part of a different letter to his family – the missing pages of the September 16 letter!

Since the letters were written in old German script, it was impossible for my archivist and me to determine the order and content of letters. Our only clues were dates and signatures. Letters were organized in a way that would have made sense to their reader, but not to those of us unused to writing letters or worrying about saving on postage. Letters often were written on rectangular paper (7”x10” or so) that had been folded in half. When unfolded, a four-page letter would have the first page on the right side of the front and the last page on the left side of the front, and pages 2 and 3 on the other side. It seems that the writer started a letter with the intent of it being a single page and if they discovered that they wanted to say more, they’d start a new page with the same order. However, they rarely numbered the pages. It was only after finding one long letter where Paul had numbered the pages that we got the hang of it. Today’s letter was doubly confusing, because the last two pages were written on a the same size paper but in the way we would normally write a letter!

The first part of this letter began with a check in about himself and family members, followed by detailed information about the boxes of flour that would be coming their way. It continues here:

…On top of this, there is postage for which 1 kg is about 3kr. On the black market, it probably costs 8-10 times as much. Do you have the opportunity to get the wheat ground or to exchange it for something else? Please write to me about this right away (see my last letter from September 5).

Please write me everything concerning the beginnings of your university studies. -- What is the situation with my war bond insurance? – Has my good shirt already sent out to be turned inside out and when? – I ask Robert to take charge of the work for Couleur news as soon as possible.

Lido writes to me that he probably will go off on his leave in the middle of the month, so you can get advice and help from him.

I do not know if I have already written about it, that here there are 2 color brothers [Farben Brüder] with whom I am in regular contact. They are A.H. Pfiff (medical officer, 62nd Feldpost) and Griff (c/o medical lieutenant Julius Gutfreund, Feldpost 645).

Please send them your questionnaire immediately.

Finally, dear Robert, I still have to write to the following soldiers who are on leave in Brüx; please greet them for me. Please give me the following addresses:  [list of names]

Metzel’s address: Oscar Metzel Feldpost 405
Pepp’s Address: Chief doctor Dr Josef Weiss, FP 638, Field hospital 303
I will send other addresses for CB.

When you reply, please answer the questions so that I do not have to ask everything twice. Especially since the exchange of news by Feldpost is already slow enough.

Kisses to all of you,
Your Paul

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We learn about another money-saving measure – rather than buying a new shirt, he asks whether his good shirt has been sent out to be altered, presumably to be refashioned/recycled by turning it inside out to hide any stains or blemishes to the material. Like food, I would imagine new clothes were difficult to come by, so even if he had plenty of money, he might not have been able to purchase anything.

It appears that Paul refers to his college fraternity brothers and the clothes they wore: per Wikipedia, “Visually, the most discerning characteristic of many Studentenverbindungen is the so-called Couleur, which can consist of anything from a small part of ribbon worn over the belt, to elaborate uniforms with riding boots, sabers, and colorful cavalry jackets, depending on circumstances and tradition.”  

In the letter, he asks for information about and provides addresses for a number of his friends. Paul’s photo album included many photos of groups of men in various uniforms. Paul had numbered the people in some photos which led me to the realization that he had written something on the back of many pictures. This led me to the discovery of the card we saw in yesterday’s post.

I assume that the photo below from April 8, 1915 is of his fraternity brothers. I don’t think he was in the army yet, so the uniforms they are wearing are consistent with the Wikipedia description above. On the back of the photo, Paul lists the names with at least two of the people mentioned in this letter: Griff and Pepp. In his absence, Paul relies on his friends to help his family and give his younger brother advice.

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September 24

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Today’s letter from Helene in Vienna to her children in San Francisco continues the story from September 6, 20, and 21 which describes their straitened circumstances and their surprise and happiness at the windfall from San Francisco.

Vienna, 24 September 1940

My most beloved children! Yesterday I got the money sent from Berlin which I thank you for once again. You can hardly imagine how quickly the letter came, which was proof that the largest part of our subsistence comes from you and relatives, which, with the receipt and proceeds of the remaining stock in our business and the sale of dispensable items in our apartment, all helped us to pay for our living costs – all the easier for us now because we have sublet half of our apartment. We have also figured out a way to cook together and that will cost less as far as heating goes and this will have more of an impact as the weather gets colder in the winter months. That’s about all there is to say about what we are doing here.

In general, quite a bit has changed and, in 10 days, it will be a year since we caressed that train that took you away to a new life. It is odd how it seems to me - it seems as if it was yesterday and 14 days ago, when we had not even had a sign of life from Harry, I believed I hadn’t seen you for an eternity. I can certainly understand that Harry is homesick for Vienna but he would feel as we do like a survivor of the sunken continent of Atlantis. There are hardly any friends left in Vienna. The city of songs has become the city of wandering children’s prams and caryatid columns: all that’s old falls and new life blossoms out of the ruins. Speaking of ruins, in our living room it still looks like there was a battle here. The slats of the floor are stacked up all over the place and we’re waiting for the contractor to have time to finish the work. We are getting used to our acrobatic lifestyle, but at night when it’s dark, my sleepy eyes can hardly understand what this monster is doing because that’s how the furniture that is piled up in the corners of our living room seems to me. Since my bed is against the other wall in the other room, I pretty soon realized that I had bumped my head and then my thoughts straightened themselves out again. Papa is working on the interior design as it were, to make modern furniture from fruit boxes. I wanted to get some fresh air into my lungs yesterday and I picked up your dad and went out shopping with him and I just kept in the background passively. First, we went to Knoll’s store. You would not believe what you would see there, how well Papa does with the shopping when he uses his meat coupons in the best possible way. For example, you get the full weight of liver if you buy that because they don’t charge extra. You get more if you eat innards and if you eat head and feet, you even get four times as much. When he had made his choice and he was looking over the bill, he asked “which is the foot and what is Blunzen [blood sausage]?” The butcher was trying to keep a straight face and he explained: “well typhus is a disease and blunzen is too.” The other people were laughing. Papa got back at him by asking Mr. Knoll “and where do you have the dogs? I want one.” Everyone looked quite confused, like “what did you say?” He pointed to the poster on the wall, where normally you’d have calves and lambs hanging, which said “bringing dogs into the store is forbidden by the police.” Apart from Papa, no one objected to this particular German formulation. We kept going with our shopping. Mrs. Heindl’s store was the next place we stopped and he asked “Do you already have Gock-gock-gock-gack?” and she said [in Viennese dialect] “they just got here so you’re always the first one to get the fresh eggs.” Pech. Let’s go to Crete. “Give me an Omega.”
Pech: “Do you want a big Omega?”*
Papa: “Omegas are always big. I want a Delta** and a Parallelaped.***”

[footnotes at bottom of page: *peasant bread, **Emmantaler cheese with no rind, ***1/8kg of butter]

Our bargain and the Greek lesson for the grocer were over and we are going home with our geometrical food for supper.

I have been in such a hurry to finish this and now Papa has just gone off without taking the letter with him. Before I get dressed, it’s already too late, she letter will have to wait until Friday. That’s okay. Maybe I will have more to tell you by then and I don’t have to just build castles in the air. I am really looking forward to getting your next letter which will tell us about what you’re doing at school.

I am addressing the letters to Harry even though Everl gave us her new address, since I assume that Harry can put the letters in order more easily than Everl. If I’m wrong in this assumption, I will then just go back to the old way of doing things.

Friday, 27 Sept. 1940

My dear ones! Papa was right about waiting to post the letter until today, because I can tell you with great joy that I received your letter #2 from the 8th of this month. I am excited about the Nursing-School. It really seems to be an educational institution comme il faut. Just the right kind of place. Maybe when you get a chance you can tell me which of your clothes were so distasteful to Aunt Tillie and meant that you had to go shopping for some new ones. Harry’s schedule, except for Chemistry and Literature, is the same, only the Australian girlfriend is new. Bravo Harry! There is nothing like starting young. It was like a feast for me to see Paul’s handwriting again. The different meanings of “auditorium” and “audience” are now clear to me from Eva’s Graduation Number – i.e., the dictionary gave me some insight into this ambiguity. I read with schadenfreude that Paul had no success in getting an audience - serves him right since he hasn’t written to me in so long. And I don’t even get anything for his promises at the Dorotheum [auction house in Vienna]. I am also be interested in knowing how many virtuosos have already come out of his school.

Nothing much has changed here. From the balcony and windows to about halfway into the room, we are waiting for the floor contractor to show up; however, he cannot be reached. I explained to the architect today that I would use the basin to put goldfish in (not silverfish). He did not seem very happy with my intention to put an aquarium in there because the ceiling supporting beams seem to have a problem because of the unfortunate positioning of the balcony. When it rains hard, the water flows down.

I’m already looking forward to #3 and the day after tomorrow I will continue. Papa will have no excuse about not waiting for the end of the letter. I feel unusually well because I am getting regular letters again and I am not worried about Everl’s health anymore because she is seeing a doctor regularly. Harry should not be careless when he’s playing football. He shouldn’t overdo it and get all overheated and then have to drink tons of cold water. Paul could have done his cure more easily here. He really didn’t have to go across the big pond for that.

I am kissing all of you one after the other and I remain your
Helene

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Helene’s mood is light because letters are arriving regularly from her children. Nothing can bring her down – not their poverty, their involuntary downsizing and sharing their apartment with strangers, the unreliable contractors (apparently a problem that has been going on all over the world forever), or the meager rations of food and distasteful cuts of meat. She makes light of all of it, making us laugh instead of cry at their situation. They don’t just laugh at the situation in the letters – they make light of the circumstances as they search for the meager provisions that are available at the markets.

I can identify with Helene’s joy at seeing her nephew Paul’s handwriting for the first time in ages – I had the same feeling when I saw my (then 18-year old) mother’s letters for the first time.

In 1940, Paul began giving piano lessons to earn money. He was unable to continue his profession as a lawyer in the United States, probably primarily because his lack of language proficiency — unlike his young cousins, he was in his 40s and not able to become fluent in English. In the February 25, 1940 issue of the San Francisco Examiner, I found a amall announcement in the arts section:

New Piano Studio
Formerly of Vienna and Prague, Paul Zerzawy has opened at the Heine Piano Company, 279 O’Farrell Street, a piano studio for instruction, for coaching in ensemble and for accompaniment.”

September 4

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As we have seen over the past several months, Helene loved the works of Goethe, often quoting him in her letters. In addition, she believed she had a personal connection to him. First we see a copy of a letter that Helene sent to Goethe Haus in Frankfurt, Germany on Goethe’s birthday in 1955. Goethe was born on August 28, 1749 and died in 1832.

On Goethe’s birthday, 1955

To Professor Dr. Eugen Beutler,
Goethe Haus, Frankfurt am Main

Dear Professor!

Since Dr. Alfred Warner of New York was so kind as to give me your address, I am taking the liberty of turning to you with a request.  Neither in the San Francisco library, nor in the more extensive library in Berkeley, where I rummaged around looking for a reference book, could I find even one book about what I want to find out. I want to know if Ulrike von Levetzow’s castle was in Weseritz or Trblice, two neighboring towns in Czechoslovakia.  All I could find out is that Professor Sauer wrote a book about U. v. L’s life, but I could not find this book in either library or in any bookstore.  I was told at one of the bookstores that the book is no longer available and that publication of a new edition is very unlikely.

The reason for my interest is that my grandmother lived in both of these towns and that, according to tales my mother heard as a child, Goethe’s last love was an eccentric woman who had very little human contact, if any.

My grandmother was an aesthetically inclined woman who earned a living as a milliner. 

One of her clients was Ulrike von Levetzow.  After the latter found out through conversation with my grandmother, that my grandmother was an enthusiastic reader of Goethe, and, through further conversation, learned that her milliner’s second hobby was playing chess, a certain camaraderie developed between the two women, the details of which, dear Professor, I will not bother you with.

I don’t think there is any point in my asking Czech authorities about this matter, so I ask that you forgive me for taking the liberty of turning to you with such an unusual request.

At age 68, I thought it would be nice to leave something behind for my children that tells them about a better world, rather than just my memories of a concentration camp.

I hope that you will forgive my boldness, and I thank you very much in advance.

Sincerely,

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Frankfurt, September 5, 1955

Frankfurt Goethe Museum          

Dear Mrs. Cohen,

We are happy to answer your question and let you know that the castle of Ulrike von Levetzow is in Trblice.  There is information about this in the following books:

Hedda Sauer, Goethe and Ulrike, Reichenberg 1925.
Adolf Kirchner, Memories of Goethe’s Ulrike, Aussig 1904.
A. Schams, At the home of Ulrike von Levetzow; a remembrance.  In:  German Homeland, Year 8, volume 6/7 Plan 1932

I hope this has been helpful.

Sincerely

 Dr. Josefine Rumpf

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Helene says that she was referred to Goethe Haus by author and art critic Alfred Werner. We learned about their connection in the June 25 post.

In 1823, Goethe wrote a poem about his unrequited love for Ulrike von Levetzow (1804-1899). There is a museum dedicated to her in Třebívlice. One site I saw mentioned that by the end of her life, it was likely that Ulrike was the last person living who would have known Goethe personally.

A friend sent me a fun video about the life of Goethe, including mention of his infatuation with Ulrike.

I have vague memories of my mother telling me that one of her ancestors had been Goethe’s mistress. This letter clarifies the story - it turns out that it wasn’t a relative, but a client of my great-great-grandmother Babette Kraus as we see in the letters below, and she wasn’t his mistress but his late-in-life unrequited love. We learned about Babette in the February 16 post and that she loved Goethe — a love that was passed on to her granddaughter.  

August 24

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Warning: today’s post may be difficult to read.

In yesterday’s post, I described the most recent part of my journey to learn more about my family, particularly about my grandfather Vitali. Perhaps some of the information has not wanted to be found until quite recently. Or perhaps I wasn’t ready to find it.

Only by searching in the right source at the right time have I been able to get answers to questions, some of which I thought might never be answered. Perhaps a particular document has only recently been digitized or uploaded, or perhaps it’s the luck of the search. My search has certainly been easier than it was for my grandmother and the thousands of people looking for traces of their loved ones at the end of World War II.

This summer I decided to look for information about Vitali at the Arolsen Archives in Germany. I had searched there in the past and found nothing. As I mentioned in the July 5 post, I found several items related to Vitali’s time at Buchenwald, including what may have been the original document that said that Vitali had been seen at the time of liberation – the statement that encouraged Helene and her children to believe that Vitali had survived (helped also by her friend Paula’s letters assuring her that she’d seen and heard from him).  

Häftlings-Personal-Karte, Haim Cohen, Buchenwald p. 2; ITS Digital Archive, Arolsen Archives; https://collections.arolsen-archives.org/G/SIMS/01010503/0273/52439235/002.jpg

Handwritten statement: “This person appears on lists of liberated prisoners (compiled by the American Army)”

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Most of the documents were intake and other official cards, with information about him and the belongings he brought with him to Buchenwald. The document below (which is the front side of the image above) sent a shock wave through me and it took several days to recover. Having an intellectual sense of my grandfather as a prisoner was very different from seeing photos.

Häftlings-Personal-Karte, Haim Cohen, Buchenwald p.1; ITS Digital Archive, Arolsen Archives; https://collections.arolsen-archives.org/G/SIMS/01010503/0273/52439235/001.jpg

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In early August, when I went back into the Arolsen Archives, I found additional documents, including one that answers the question of Vitali’s fate – that he died on a “death march” near Penting, Germany. When I first spoke to historian Corry Guttstadt in late 2017, this was her theory –tens of thousands of men were marched out of Buchenwald in early April 1945 when the German SS realized they were losing the war. Few prisoners on the marches survived.

Investigations regarding the sites Neunburg vorm Wald - Rötz. DE ITS 5.3.2 Tote 29; Attempted Identification of Unknown Dead, https://collections.arolsen-archives.org/H/Child%20Tracing%20Branch%20General%20Documents/General%20Documents/05050000/aa/ao/pl/001.jpg

The document states that Haim Cohen was among the unknown dead who were buried in Penting on April 21, 1945 and were reburied in Neunburg v. Wald in the fall of 1949. He was deemed to be one of the buried based on his prisoner number.

Although the above document was created in 1950, it was never found during the many times my grandmother requested information about her husband.

It appears that Vitali died on April 21, about 165 miles away from Buchenwald. The map below shows the distance between Buchenwald and Penting. Also on the map is Flossenbürg – the only reference to Penting I could find said that the prisoners who were in Penting had come from Flossenbürg concentration camp. It would make sense that they would believe that Vitali had been with the group from Flossenbürg since it was on the way from Buchenwald to Penting.

All of my life, I knew that all four of my grandparents had been interned in concentration camps. My grandmother Helene was the only grandparent I ever met. It was comforting to think that Vitali might one day fulfill his wife’s and children’s hopes that he would show up on their doorstep.

For most of my life, I avoided reading books and watching films about the Holocaust – I never felt I “needed to” learn about the specifics because I had internalized the loss and trauma and didn’t feel the need to gain more understanding or empathy. It’s taken me until now to be able to look more closely – poring over my grandmother’s letters and stories, and looking until I finally found what happened to Vitali. Over the past few weeks I have felt sad and anxious and sick. It has taken me many days to sit down and write this post. Last week, I arranged to meet with my translator to look at some of the Buchenwald documents before writing today’s post, and conveniently “forgot” to hit send so she was not able to look at them in time. But they really need little translation.

When Corry and I spoke about discovering Vitali’s fate, she hoped that I would feel a sense of closure, that I would feel better no longer wondering why he never contacted his family if he survived. At this point, I guess it’s good to know that he didn’t desert his family. Still, it’s hard to let go of the dream my family held for so long and accept that the life of this smart, resourceful man was cut short in this awful way.

I’m glad that at the same time that I was discovering evidence of Vitali’s death, I found more information about his life in Vienna through newspaper articles (see yesterday’s post). He was much more than a victim or a statistic.

After learning about Vitali’s fate, I began thinking about my grandmother’s time in Istanbul. She arrived there in April 1945, about the time Vitali would have been marched out of Buchenwald. She remained in Istanbul for an entire year, boarding the SS Vulcania on April 14, 1946 and arriving in the U.S. on April 26. The Jewish period of mourning is twelve months. Unknowingly, my grandmother spent the entire year after Vitali’s death in his birthplace. There seems something sadly poetic about that.

July 5

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Today’s letter is the reply to Helene’s query in the June 21 post.

Special Registry Office, Arolsen

6 July, 1955

Dear Mrs. Cohen,

As an answer to your letter of June 21 re searching for your husband Chain Cohen, I must inform you sincerely that my office has no information.  The International Search Service in Arolsen has only the information that the State Police in Vienna took your husband to the Buchenwald Concentration Camp near Weimar on November 5, 1943.

Since it is possible that your husband died in the Buchenwald area after the concentration camp was liberated, I recommend that you contact the Registry Office in Weimar/Thuringia in the Soviet occupied region of Germany.

I am extremely sorry that I cannot provide more exact information.

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The Arolsen Archives were formerly known as the International Tracing Service. The office was set up after World War II specifically to deal with questions about the whereabouts of prisoners sent to concentration camps.  In preparing today’s post, I went to the online Arolsen Archives and found documents related to Vitali that I had never seen before. A comment handwritten on the back of one document from 1948 (presumably made in response to one of my grandmother’s queries) said “This person appeared on lists of Liberated Prisoners (compiled by the American Army)”. In several documents in my possession, I had seen references to the fact that Vitali had been reported alive at the time of liberation, but I had never seen it attributed to the American Army. However, I assume “compiled” means they wrote down the testimony of a presumed eyewitness, so I am no closer to an answer than my mother and grandmother were. It is heartbreaking to think how often their hopes for answers were dashed.

When I was young, my mother told me what a brilliant man her father was. She said he spoke around 10 languages. I always thought she must have been exaggerating — although my mother was always completely truthful. One document in the Arolsen Archives corroborated her claim — listing the (9) languages Vitali spoke: Turkish, French, English, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Arabic, Persian (Farsi?), and German.

It was not unusual for people in those days to speak multiple languages, although I think Vitali had a longer list than most. It was useful, particularly in cosmopolitan areas, to be able to communicate with the wide variety of people passing through. Toward the end of Harry’s life, he was fascinated by the memoirs of Elias Canetti, which he read both in the original German and in English translation. I read the first volume of Canetti’s memoir to see what caught Harry’s interest. I’m guessing part of it was feeling a kinship to Canetti for being the son of a Sephardic Jew in western Europe and the other was to read his memories of Vienna in the decade before Harry was born.

Harry followed in his father’s footsteps, fascinated by any publication in any language. As a student at UC Berkeley after the war, he studied Russian and I think Japanese. He considered pursuing a career in the foreign service. By the end of his life, Harry had amassed a library of hundreds of books in dozens of languages. I sometimes wondered whether that was also a way of hiding in plain sight – an interest in multiple languages could hide the fact that he had not been born in the US.

Harry kept his father’s Turkish-German phrasebook. According to the Wikipedia entry on the publisher, Meyers Bibliographisches Institut published German language phrasebooks from the 19th to early 20th century. The phrasebook I have is embossed with Vitali’s initials.

Genealogists and family historians all recommend periodically searching for answers to unanswered questions. More information and documents are being digitized every day.

July 4

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

I believe that the 2 pages below are part of a single letter, although the pages were not obviously together. So page 2 could actually belong to another letter entirely. If taken together, this is a letter from someone named Leo, probably Leo Schauer, Paul’s father’s third wife Eliza’s brother. The letter would have been written to Paul Zerzawy in New York City.

Prague 4 July 1939

Dear Paul!

Up until now I have only sent greetings to you from all of us through your mother.

There have been some regulations that have been announced in the last few days for the conscription of securities and emergency bank notes. The reporting forms for this matter are to be filled out personally by the owners who are in Germany and this is done by affidavit or declaration.

Otto, who is a recent husband and in his honeymoon weeks is finding no time for any extra kind of work and he leaves the office and goes home as soon as possible, asks me to write to you about this and I am happy to take the opportunity to brief you on it.

The mortgage period actually ran out a few weeks ago but has been extended for 3 months. Therefore, you do not have to do anything about this. Just so that the emergency bank notes do not expire and lose their value completely, you need to send the following letter to the Union Bank:

“In your bank with you, I have the amount of 120,000 Czech krone and 3-3/4 are in emergency bank notes on deposit and there is a mortgage of 60,000 Czech krone.

I hereby communicate to you that I have changed my legal address from Prague and today my new address is Paul Z c/o Cooper, 718 West 178th Street, Apt. 44, New York City.”

We read all your reports and we know about everything. Nothing new has happened here. Anny is still waiting for her Gestapo permission to emigrate, but we think that should be taken care of in a few days. Doris is writing reports that she is satisfied and happy and she is waiting with great longing for Anny’s arrival. I was in Poděbrad for a few days, which had a very positive influence on your mother’s state of mind and we have decided that we will certainly do this more often so that she not feel so lonely.

[Page 2:]

We haven’t received any direct news yet from Fritz and Hanne but the transport office has already told us that the transport has landed. The passengers are being registered. They are legal emigrants and they are part of the quota. The advantage of this is that people can keep their name and that the documents that they have had up till now will still be valid. Because there have been some possible cases of typhus during the transport, the participants are only let go after several weeks of quarantine and that’s why there is no direct news from them. We hope to get this news soon. According to the reports of Mr. Zwicker from Haifa, the Lift must have already arrived there. We have decided to send this only because the freight to Haifa can be paid in Czech krone here. Now the sender comes with the unpleasant news that according to the latest regulation, the freight to Haifa must be paid in hard currency when it reaches Trieste. This is about 20 pounds and I do not know at all if Fritz would have this amount available there.

I hope to hear good news from your existential question soon and for today with most sincere greetings from all of us

Your Leo

Rud Hanak reports today that he has received a job in his branch (office machines) with a beginning salary of 1000 pesos and he is quite happy about it. You must make sure to date your letter to the bank exactly on the day it is sent!

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I found this letter in an envelope labeled “Otto” which my mother kept (see January 25 post). It was filled with bank documents and letters between Paul and his stepmother’s son in Palestine. I am not certain who Otto was. There is an Otto on the Zerzawy family tree who is some sort of cousin to Paul. According to the tree, he was an officer of Union Bank in Prague, had married in 1922 and divorced at some point. If it is the same Otto, according to this letter he remarried in 1939.  

Paul Zerzawy’s father Julius died early in 1939. His widow Elise is in Poděbrad, a spa town near Prague. Her son Fritz and his wife Hanne have emigrated to Haifa. Other friends and relatives are strewn across the globe. We saw letters from 1940 from Fritz in the January 25 post and from Elise in the February 10 post.

An aside: isn’t the German word for “honeymoon” wonderful?: Flitterwochen

June 25

Today we have a postcard from Vienna sent on June 22, 1958 to Helene in San Francisco.

We think of you often, not least in Vienna, on the Ring. Why don’t you write.
Love,
Judith & Alfred

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I thought this would be a very brief post, given how short a greeting there was on the card. But as often has been the case on this project, more puzzle pieces came together and suddenly this seemingly random postcard from an unknown friend leads us to something much richer.

When I first saw the postcard a few years ago, I read the signature as being from someone named Judith Alfred. I’d never seen her name before and was surprised that my grandmother had kept the card. Perhaps because the picture on the card was of the Vienna opera house? In the March 13 post, we saw what Helene wrote about the rebuilt opera house in 1955 after it had been destroyed during the war. 

As I was preparing today’s post, I looked again at the signature. I realized it might say Judith & Alfred. Which made me recall the name of someone whose writing takes up a lot of space in the papers my grandmother kept. In addition to several binders of her own stories, Helene kept two binders with magazine articles, German language cartoons, newspaper clippings, etc. Included in the binders were several articles by a man named Alfred Werner. I found that, like my grandmother, he too had lived in Vienna until being deported to Dachau. He came to New York in 1940 and became an art historian and journalist. His first wife died in the 1940s and he married Judith in 1953. You can learn all about him at the Center for Jewish History and can look at and download his entire archive. 

Since they had been in Vienna at the same time, I assumed that my grandmother was interested in Werner’s writing because she’d read work by him in Viennese newspapers and because he often wrote about her beloved pre-war Vienna in US publications. As I looked more closely at the articles my grandmother kept, I noticed that he had signed two of the reprints for her. He signed a reprint of a 1949 article entitled “Vienna Paradise Lost” that first appeared in The Chicago Jewish Forum (Volume 7, Number 4, Summer, 1949), when he was in San Francisco in 1955: "To the muse of twelve generations of Austrian writers and artists, honored by one of her many sons of the muse - Alfred, SF 1955." Presumably he is likening Helene to her namesake Helen of Troy. The signatures on the article and on the card look like they came from the same hand. Although there was an age difference of almost 25 years — Alfred was born in 1911 — Helene and Alfred shared a love of literature and music. I imagine them meeting at the Café Central in the 1930s and chatting for hours.

We have already seen a bit of his writing in the May 22 post, showing the testimonials to Vitali’s work in Vienna. Alfred Werner’s quote does not appear in Vitali’s “business card”, but it was in the translated document created when Vitali and Helene were preparing to come to the U.S. I do not have the original German.

Sub specie aeternitatis
The deeper I am looking into thee, blue sky,
The nearer dost thou still appear to me;
The stronger, God, I think Thee to the end,
The pitifuller do I fall before Thee….
From my volume of poems
To Mr. Cohen, with grateful admiration.
Alfred Werner.

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As I have found so many times before on this journey, my grandmother kept everything for a reason. Even people who at first seem like strangers or mere acquaintances end up playing a much more important role in my grandmother’s life and story than I could have imagined.

June 21

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

The Search for Vitali

Helene and her children never stopped hoping to see Vitali again. One of the most poignant things my mother ever said was in March of 1988 when she acknowledged that she probably would never see her father again. She had never lost hope that he would arrive on her doorstep one day. He would have been 100 years old.

Helene’s search began the moment she arrived in Istanbul from Ravensbrück on the SS Drottningholm in April of 1945. The JDC archives include several documents that included Vitali’s name on the list of missing persons being sought by the released prisoners. We learned about Helene’s voyage and experiences in Istanbul in several earlier posts, including JDC documents posted on April 16 and April 20.

Today we see documents from 1947, 1949, 1950, and a copy of a letter from Helene dated June 21, 1955. Helene was tireless in her search for Vitali, ever hopeful that she would see him again.

21 June, 1955

To Special Registry Office

Arolsen
Germany

Dear Sirs,

With this letter I send my polite request that you inform me about further steps to take in my quest to find out if my husband is still alive.  I would be extremely grateful to receive any information about him.

My husband and I were arrested on October 15, 1943 in our home.  While I was transported to Ravensbrück, my husband was sent to Buchenwald. 

From the PCIRO Child Search Tracing Division Wiesbaden (16) I received this information on July 7, 1947:

Cohen, Haim, political prisoner (Jew) was alive at the time of liberation. 

The attached document contains a copy of the data I have.  I will be glad to send more if necessary.

Thank you in advance for your trouble,

Sincerely,

May 14

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

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Moda. Istanbul, May 10-45

My Harry-boy! Did you ever think that your mother aimed at adventures? Never, or did you? For voyages, yes, I always had a foible but under other circumstances . Six weeks I was doing nothing else but eating, drinking, sleeping, and reading and admiring the various landscapes, all things I was missing during a year and a half as I had been in Ravensbrück, a concentration camp for women. Probably there were great gaps in my education which must be repaired found out the Nazis and I learned things which do not belong to a good all-round education. I can see by the astonishment of the reporters who came to see us and I had been interviewed and printed several times. Now I am surfeited by sea, glaciers, towns, people but not yet of tea, coffee and chocolate. I am sitting among magnolia, lemon-bushes, quite indifferent, from the balcony I see the Sofien-Marchee from one side, Prinkipo.

from the other, not having the wish to see more. All my thoughts are directed to you all and to Vitali from whom I don’t know where he is just now. He was arrested with me on the 15th of October 43 and separated immediately. After 6 months I knew that he was brought to Buchenwald, a concentration camp for men. His letters - I received one every 3 months - were gay and full of confidence. This camp, I had been told, was better than that of mine and he assured me in every letter that his condition is in apple-pie order. I hope he had withstood the last days of Buchenwald till the liberation. I can’t understand why Turkish men were released with the exception of those from B. One must have forgotten them. You can believe me I have not let untried everything. I know it will last very long till I shall get answers to my inquiries but notwithstanding I hope I shall bring him with me as soon as you have done those steps which are necessary to claim us.

Please, Harry write me very soon. I am sorry for you too.

I am happy about Eva! Marriage, although at the first day I was anyhow stricken nearly stupefied. By and by I became familiar with the thought that Ebi became pledged. I asked so many questions that Eva will not be able to answer them. You must help her, likewise Paul.

Now I am glad that I have finished my letter. There is a great fuss about a thing I don’t know what. Farewell, darling, remain healthy and write very soon.

I kiss you.
Helen

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This letter was kept with the letter to Eva that we saw on May 10 (which cousin Lisette’s sent with own letter of May 11). So much is packed into this brief letter to her son – details of her separation from Vitali, and Helene’s relishing of her first days of freedom and plenty after a year and a half of cruelty and deprivation at the hands of the Nazis. Vitali in his letters to Helene from Buchenwald tried to make Helene believe that life was easier for him than for her in Ravensbrück, and it must have been much more comforting for her to believe that fantasy than imagine his reality. She has begun what will be at least a 10 year search for her husband. She is worried about her son the soldier. I don’t know if Harry saw this letter in 1945 – at this time he was stationed in New Guinea. I assume Eva would have at least written to him about the letter’s contents.

May 10

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Moda, May 10. 45

My dear Eva! Since about a week I knew that you were getting married but only that. Neither I knew your surname nor your address. Lizette, Lilli and Ticco contrived the most incredible, no, the most credible excuses making me believe that they have only forgotten your letter. These good children didn’t want to excite me by showing me your writing because they wanted to conceal from me that Harry became a soldier. This I learned by a conversation with Ticco. Of course I insisted to bring me your letter. Yesterday Beppo brought it and I found out that Harry is in the South Pacific still but by no means I could make out that he is a soldier, consequently they must know more about him than they will declare to me. Excuse my long introduction. I am no more up to date and in my time we had been taught to do a long-winded prelude before going on with the real theme. Of course in German my style would be less circumstantial.

Sorry, I haven’t learned how a mother has to congratulate her daughter on her marriage in the case she is separated from her by war and ocean. Again I had the old-fashioned feeling of a sitting-hen which has hatched duck-eggs, cackling tremendously seeing her naughty covey diving the first time at duck-manners: “Köpfchen in das Wasser, Ärchchen in die Höhe.” [should be “Köpfchen in das Wasser, Schwänzchen in die Höhe” – head in the water, tail up] Simply I can’t imagine that my ducky Ebi is swimming in the pond and left me waiting and cackling excitingly. That your wedding took place on the 13 of January must have been a great surprise for Harry, whom I beg not to imitate you immediately. I was - Lord is my witness - with you all the time. On the 11 of January I thought: today it is Tillie’s birthday, tomorrow that of Hilda and a day after tomorrow that of Harry and I learned by my friend Gemma Gluck-LaGuardia (yes, she is the sister of the Little flower) sitting with her hand in hand what a great day it is to come of age. That this day shall be a double-festival to our family I couldn’t dream. - But today I will not relate, I will ask you to do it. At first please, introduce me to your husband. How is his first name? Ebi, do you remember your composition about Hagen? Yours was one of the best, only too short, remarked your teacher. In five sentences the German hero was settled. Well, that was all right, but my son-in-law is not the sullen Hagen, is he? I am sure that you are more interested in this theme and your description will be more detailed. Please answer me the following questions:

1.     Are you happy, really very happy? And your husband also?
2.     Where and how did you make his acquaintance? Is he an American by birth? Is he small or tall, thick or thin, blond or dark, light eyes or dark eyes? How old is he?
3.     What is he doing except to be glad that his mother-in-law is over the big lake? Tell him that 2 parents-in-law in hand are better than one in the concentration camp.
4.     How many Creme-Schnitten had you to pay Harry before getting engaged? And Paul, Hilda, Tillie, did they agree with you?
5.     In which way you were you informed of my staying in Sweden? By dispatch, letter, or newspaper?

In conclusion, I will only tell you that I am in Istanbul just one month. Our relations learned the news by the newspaper. Fortune, Estrea, Beppo, Bondi, and his wife cousin Romano paid me a visit just when they read my name in the Gazette. I am too excited today to describe to you how nice they are to me, and I am glad and proud having conquered the affection of the youth. Lilli and Lizette I see every Sunday, Ticco comes during the week to see me, Fortune, Estrea and Beppo come as time permits it. Moda is situated on the Marmara Sea - and to be reached by a boat not too frequently.

For myself war is not yet over inasmuch I don’t know where Vitali is. His last letter was from January 7.45 - I received it on February 7.45 and after three weeks I left Ravensbrück. I hope I can stay here till I know about Vitali. Please council with Harry what to do to be able to come to you. Lizette will tell you about her information at the American Consulate.

Have you received letters from me from Götheburg, Liverpool, Lisbon? How is Harry, Paul, Tillie and Julius, Hilda and Nathan, how is Tillie’s brother [Al?]? Fulda-Anderson family and did you hear from Robert? How is Bertha Schiller, her husband, Arthur and his family?

Please go to the nearest stationers and buy a ream of paper to answer all my questions. Tell Paul, Hilda, Tillie, Harry to send me long letters, I am letter-starved. In my suitcase there are letters from the Drottingholm still which I could not post. Next time I shall send it to you.

With many kisses I remain your
Helen

 P.S. To fill this space I will give you an idea of our Odyssey.

March 1. Departure from Ravensbrück at Lübeck.
Staying there 5 days, via Flensburg at Kopenhagen Helsian, sojourn 5 days
March 11. Arrival Helsingborg (Sweden) Götheberg by railway and now we climbed [boarded?] the Drottingholm”
March 18. Our ship put to sea at the waters of Norway
March 22 Färro Islands - Thors Hava [Tórshavn] 17 March
March 24 Liverpool
April 1 Port Said
April 10 Istanbul
April 15 Moda

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After my mother had a stroke in 2006, I sorted through her papers to make sure I had everything I needed to be able to handle her affairs. As I searched, I found letters written from my grandmother from Istanbul in 1945-1946, a Red Cross letter from Vienna just before their parents were deported, and one from Buchenwald from Vitali to Helene. In addition, my mother had her cousin Paul Zerzawy’s official papers – school records, bank documents, death certificate from 1948. I was so excited to find all these items that I photocopied them and gave them to Harry since I imagined he hadn’t seen these papers in decades. I had never seen them. Little did I know that Harry had hundreds of letters from Helene and Paul stashed away that he never bothered to mention. Who knows why my mother had some documents and her brother had others?

Today’s letter is one of the first things I read in 2006. Happily for me, the letter was in English and it told me more about my grandmother’s experience than I had known. Until then, I knew the barest of details – she’d sent her children to safety in San Francisco in 1939 and for some reason she and her husband did not follow and ended up in the camps. I knew she’d been traded as a Turkish prisoner and had come to the U.S. via Istanbul and that her husband Vitali was never seen again.  

When I first read this letter, I did not have the context of the hundreds of pages of letters that had been come before. After rereading it in preparation for this post, it feels like a synopsis of the entire archive: even if I had never seen the other letters, I at least had the facts of Helene’s years in Europe after being separated from her children and the sound of her voice.

Although Helene writes of other letters she’d sent on her journey to Istanbul, as far as I know those letters never made it to San Francisco. At this point she is feeling well cared for, before the Joint began moving her around Istanbul and Vitali’s relatives could not always find her. See post of February 2.

This letter reminds me that there’s more research to do. I had recalled that Helene mentioned talking to reporters, but had not remembered that she said that they had published things about her. When I first read her May 1 Joint testimony, it felt like another puzzle piece fitting into place.

Finally, Helene even explains her writing style. In the stories I posted on March 13 and April 22, I commented on how she sets the stage for her story and then takes us in amazing directions. In this letter she apologizes for the long introduction before going on to the “real theme.”