This letter to Helene in Vienna from her nephew Paul Zerzawy in San Francisco is apparently a copy of a note he added to a letter Eva wrote to her parents.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, finding Paul’s letters and papers tucked away in Harry’s closet have been invaluable. We see the immigrant experience from an adult’s point of view. Paul would have been 44 years old in February 1940. Although Paul was trained and worked as a lawyer in Vienna, he was not licensed in the U.S. Perhaps he didn’t feel his English was good enough to pursue a law career here, it cost too much to get licensed, or it did not seem possible to him to get work as an attorney. At any rate, he fell back on his musical talents and gave music lessons, taught at the Conservatory of Music, and accompanied singers, none of which were very lucrative. He does not include his address, adding his note to Eva’s, presumably since he felt he was living a nomadic existence. He had stayed with the relatives mentioned in his letter, but was working hard to get some independence, while needing to rely on them for meals to keep from going hungry.

Address to Eva’s letter of February 7, 1940, sent on Feb. 8

Dear Helene, dear Vitali,

It probably serves no purpose to reassure you that your children are doing well.  It’s superfluous, actually.  The letters they write are the best proof that they lack nothing, except maybe to be reassured about how you are doing, and about your future.  The question is just if our letters do arrive.  We don’t yet have proof of this.  We did start writing, around the first of the year, airmail letters instead of the usual kind, since we gave up hope of the latter being delivered.  I’m doing well; I earn a little giving piano lessons and through other musical activities.  But I couldn’t live on this if I didn’t save money by being invited over for meals (by Nathan and Hilda and their friends, and by George and Bertha).  Anyway, I have been able to rent a furnished room, to the relief of the Schiller married couple, who are not so young anymore and not living so comfortably, and my own conscience is relieved, too.  The thing that bugs me the most is that it takes quite a bit of time to become independent here, let alone to help those of you still in Europe, a goal that I always have in mind.  I’ll write more soon.  (Since there is the danger that letters may not arrive, it seems prudent to send the news in multiple letters and to repeat it as well).  Greetings to our acquaintances and don’t give up, just keep writing!

Your P

One of my most treasured discoveries in Harry’s closet was a roll of negatives. When I pulled out the roll, I recognized one photo I had of my mother on the ship on the way to the U.S., but none of the other photos looked familiar. My guess is that Harry developed the film and sent most of the photos to their parents in Vienna to show that they were all right. The roll of film was a window into Harry and Eva’s first view of America. Below are two photos of Eva and Paul relaxing on hammocks, presumably at a relative’s house in Marin County. They are sitting opposite one another, side by side, companionably reading. This was probably taken in late 1939 or early 1940, when my mother was 18 and her cousin Paul was 44. These photos certainly would have put Helene’s mind at rest that her loved ones were fine.