May 9

Mother’s Day

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

As I tell my family story, I realize how much of it is about mothers and daughters – strong women protecting their children from adversity as much as possible, trying to give them a better life, as mothers everywhere have been doing since time immemorial. Several of these women married men who, although charming and intelligent, did not have a practical bone in their bodies, leaving day-to-day affairs to their wives.

Rosa and Helene (and perhaps Helene’s father Adolph?) planned to move from Bohemia to Vienna in the early 1900s. Unfortunately, Rosa’s eldest daughter Ida died in 1902, leaving 4 children under the age of 7. I believe Adolph died at this time as well. Helene moved to Vienna on her own. In 1903, Rosa’s daughter Mathilde married her sister’s widower Julius Zerzawy. She died in 1910 and Rosa again took care of her motherless grandchildren until the end of World War I. It must have been heartbreaking for Rosa to be called upon to bury her daughters and care for her grandchildren, and then to lose three of those five grandchildren to war and illness before 1920. Yet, she soldiered on trying to hold the family together.

We learned a bit about Helene’s grandmother Babette and mother Rosa in the post from February 16.

I think often of my own mother’s strength. At a time when most American teenagers were going to high school dances, Eva and her brother had left their parents behind in Vienna, imagining that they would see each other again in a few months. She finished high school and began earning money to send to her parents, hoping that what little she could provide would ease their lives and perhaps help them make the journey to America. After the U.S. entered World War II in 1941, Eva and Harry stopped receiving letters from their parents and had no idea what was happening to them. Eva completed nursing school and began working. Her brother joined the army as soon as he was able. By 1943, Eva was in San Francisco with neither her parents nor her brother. She must have been terrified that she might never hear from her parents again and that Harry would be killed in the war, particularly given how often he talked in his letters about longing to see combat. In 1945, Eva must have been thrilled to know that her mother was safe, but she also had to find the resources to help her mother come to the U.S. and help support her when she arrived. My mother was always an ultra-responsible person, but I can’t imagine how difficult it was to shoulder the responsibility of supporting her parents (and probably trying to act maternally to her younger brother who wouldn’t have been interested), all before she was 25 years old.

I am touched that one of the few cards my grandmother kept was a Mother’s Day card I gave her at some point in the 1960s.

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I am so grateful to all of my foremothers. Happy Mother’s Day!

May 8

Today we have a letter to Harry in San Francisco from Lucienne Simier who was a fellow prisoner with Helene at Ravensbrück. We saw a letter that Helene wrote a to Lucienne on January 22. More information on Lucienne and others Helene met from Angers, France can be found at the post of April 18.

May the 10th 1946                                          

1 Avenue Marie Talet
Angers

Dear Harry,

I just got your parcel and my friend’s letter telling me your dear mother has come to you. It is so sweet of you thinking to send me such good things. You certainly are the dear boy your mother spoke to me of and I thank you very, very much indeed.

Since your mother’s letter, I am thinking of you and trying to imagine your meeting. I feel so happy about it. At last, my dear Helen is free. I cannot tell you how much she has been for me. I love her like a sister and all those she loves I love too. You must think I am very “Frenchy” in telling my feelings!! I have been so near feeling no more that I feel now much stronger and enjoy what is good. And your mother may explain – she knows me so well.

I hope she will write to me very soon – she has such a lot to tell me. Mrs…. writes that you are getting an apartment all together. I hope your mother is not too tired after such a long journey. How is she? She was so thin when I left her.  

I must leave you now. Tell your mother I am with her with all my heart. I wish her such a lot of happiness, poor dear. She must be missing terribly your dear father. I kiss her most affectionately. 

For you and Eva mille remerciments et mes sentiments très affectieux.

            L Simier

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There is nothing to add to this beautiful letter except how heartening it is to know that in the depths of hell, these women found and comforted each other. No wonder Istanbul was such an isolating and wrenching experience for Helene – imprisoned again but with no moral support from fellow prisoners and no way of contacting her husband.

May 7

As the letters jump from time to time, my husband suggested that a timeline would be helpful. I hope this simple chart is useful:

Today’s letter is from Helene in Vienna to her son Harry. He and Eva have been in San Francisco for a little over 6 months.

 Vienna, 7 May 1940

My most beloved pickled herring!

There is a song for the Heurigen [young wine in the fall]: “Vienna becomes beautiful only at night.” The person who wrote this song surely had no idea how right that was. While all of Europe is in danger of war, there is only one oasis: the land of my dreams where everything has remained just as it was. The doctors who have not figured out the secrets of dreams yet would probably laugh at my interpretation. Wouldn’t it be possible that nature has helped out by creating a balance? A fraction of a second creates a dream and takes us to almost heavenly realms, and leads us to believe in the fulfillment of our most nostalgic wishes and this little fraction of a second gives us the power and inspiration to further plans.  Sometimes I can hardly imagine myself how I could always wish: “I just wish the children were outside.” In my motherly way like the raven I even went so far as to be happy about having this wish fulfilled which often seems to me like a confusion of feelings and I ask myself :“Are you really normal?” The expression of joy has been pushed off a bit. Inside, one is happy to know you are outside of this witches’ cauldron and go around with the bitter expression of a corpse. But sometimes it’s the opposite. “Keep smiling” should hide how it feels from the inside. There’s nothing new here. “I’m sitting in the rain waiting” for mail and the possibility of seeing you near me not just in my dreams. Papa calls me nothing but “Mrs. Lowell” and believes he has a formula for his dreams. I don’t wonder about anything else. I wouldn’t even be surprised if I lay down here at night and woke up in Frisco. It would seem so natural for me that I could express my joy not just in antics because it just seems so natural to wake up where one wants to and actually belongs. Four weeks is a long time to wait for mail but they would pass quickly if we were sitting across from each other.

On back, handwritten:
Just received your letter of April 6. Thank you, great joy, [?]
Kisses
Helen

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I love the wonderful pet names Helene has for her children – a way to show her affection for her children as well as her joy in clever wordplay. In this case she calls Harry “Herring” as a play on his name.

Helene and Vitali are hoping to soon join their children in San Francisco. Vitali has taken to calling his wife “Mrs. Lowell” since their children now go by that last name. I don’t know if it was their intent to change their names upon arrival. My grandmother never did, but by the time she was reunited with her children, they were adults and on their own.

When Roslyn first translated this letter a few years ago, I did not yet realize that Helene made so many references to music and literature. When preparing today’s post, I googled a few of the words she had in quotations marks and found two songs. The first about Vienna at night was popular during World War I.

The song about sitting in the rain appeared in a 1937 film “Zu neuen Ufern” (To New Shores)

 Here are the Lyrics:

Ich steh' im Regen und warte auf Dich, auf Dich
Auf allen Wegen erwart' ich nur Dich, immer nur Dich
Der Zeiger der Kirchturmuhr rückt von Strich zu Strich, ach, wo bleibst Du denn nur? Denkst du nicht mehr an mich?
Und ich steh' im Regen und warte auf Dich, auf Dich
Immer warten nur die Menschen, die wirklich lieben

Kommst Du noch nicht? Wie die fallenden Tropfen am Ärmel zerstieben
Ich steh' im Regen und warte auf Dich, auf Dich
Auf allen Wegen erwart' ich nur Dich, immer nur Dich
Der Zeiger der Kirchturmuhr rückt von Strich zu Strich, ach, wo bleibst Du denn nur?
Denkst du nicht mehr an mich?
Und ich steh' im Regen und warte auf Dich, auf Dich

And a translation from Google Translate:

I stand in the rain and wait for you, for you
On all roads I only expect you, always only you
The pointer of the church clock moves from line to line, oh,
where are you? Don't you think of me anymore
And I stand in the rain and wait for you, for you
Only the people who really love are always waiting

Aren't you coming yet? Like the falling drops on your sleeve
I stand in the rain and wait for you, for you
On all roads I only expect you, always only you
The pointer of the church clock moves from line to line, oh,
where are you?
Don't you think of me anymore
And I stand in the rain and wait for you, for you

May 5

100 years ago today…

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

My mother Eva was born 100 years ago today. I have found as I tell my family’s story that she often gets the least amount of attention. Some of it is due to documentation – I have so many of her mother’s and brother’s words, but few of her own. In life, too, she often was relegated to the sidelines. She did not like to call attention to herself and usually listened more than she spoke. Her brother Harry had a huge personality and charmed and filled the room. 

Eva was smart and independent, much like her mother. She had hoped to be a physician, something unusual for a woman in the early 20th century. She was so self-conscious about her accent and other-ness as a new arrival in the U.S. that she never pursued that dream, deciding instead to become a nurse. She longed for a life of adventure and travel. She loved opera and music, even trying to enjoy the music I listened to. She was an avid tennis and bridge player. She loved to drive, and whenever we went on vacation when I was young, we would get in the car and drive as far as we could during her time off, usually two weeks a year. In retirement, she traveled all over the world and loved every minute. She had a wonderful sense of humor and loved playing with language, writing clever poems (in English!) for people on special occasions. She always wanted to help, had high expectations of everyone but especially of herself, knitted beautiful hats and sweaters, and showed her love by showing up whenever and wherever she was needed. She did not believe she deserved nice things and was reluctant to spend money on herself. Although she was generous with others, she would not rely on others for anything. Above everything, she loved her family.

Eva lived a long life: she escaped the horrors of the Nazis and was able to survive and thrive in San Francisco. After some early support from relatives here as she completed high school, she made her way in the world – she completed nursing school, married, became the primary breadwinner, bought a house, earned a masters degree, became a public health nurse, raised a child, cared for her mother, retired, and explored as much of the world as she could. She had a debilitating stroke when she was 85. There were two silver linings: first, the stroke destroyed the part of her brain that was constantly judging herself so she was much mellower; and second, her brother Harry visited weekly and brought her great joy – after not seeing each other that often during their adult lives, their final days together were sweet and meaningful to them both. They would play backgammon (like the tric-trac of their childhood) and listen to music they both loved (thanks to their mother). She died 10 years ago, just a few months before her 90th birthday.

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Eva in Vienna - 1921-1939:

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 Eva in the U.S. - 1939-2011:  

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From Helene to her daughter Eva on her 50th birthday:

S.F. May 5, 1971

Everly,

May the coming birthdays be happy & gay as I wish you, to see when I will blink from above. From there it will not happen that I forget this day, happy that the Herrgott gave me my sweet Everl.

Your forgetful
mother
Helen

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Eva on some of her many travels:

May 4

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

In today's letter, Helene writes to her nephew Paul who has recently arrived in New York from Europe. She summarizes the letters we saw on May 2 and 3 that her children sent to her from Istanbul, and the letter explains to us the circumstances of their going. She has not yet begun typing her letters to make sure they got through the censors.

 Vienna, 5 May 1939

My dear Paul, we were waiting with impatience but not with unease your first letter from the land of unlimited possibilities, an attribute that relates to our Germany. I am not surprised that Arthur and his wife received you in a most cordial manner. I was only together with them briefly but the impression was a deep and very pleasant one. I am sure that you will regain your resilience and find a job soon, which, even if you really don’t think it appeals to you will not condemn you to idleness, which must seem like the absolute worst thing to people here. Keep your head high. I see in your spirit already now that your face is becoming more American and with your ability to fit in/assimilate, your circle of friends mostly imported from Europe, will increase considerably. I wish Robert were already there – the poor guy is alone and perhaps melancholy. Oh, the doorbell is ringing and it must be the postman.

Yes, indeed it was the post and we got a letter from Istanbul. Paul, since April 27th, the children are there because of a momentary inspiration on the part of Vitali. There was a satirical article that appeared with name and address about Vitali, the consequences of which we couldn’t really know just yet. A few weeks ago, a reporter unknown to us showed up and had a long consultation with Vitali. On the next day, another fellow came from this newspaper and he wanted an interview. You know Vitali. The man went away and after that appeared this article I mentioned. We made a pilgrimage to the Stubenring [their shop]. Four days later there appeared in the same newspaper, the article of the first visitor, who of course without naming names claimed exactly the opposite. If the first article writer had something else other than publicity in mind, one thing he certainly did manage to accomplish, the children were sent away “just in time.” Harry, in a morning, he managed to get all the visas - Hungarian, Yugoslavian, and Bulgarian; Vitali got the tickets; and Eva took care of the sewing with Jo and her mother who is 81 years old the rest of the clothing; and I packed the suitcases. And two days later, we sat with each other and 17 pieces of luggage in the Orient Express and rode to the border. This short trip, which has many interesting moments, I will describe to you next time. After a 48-hour trip, the children arrived safe and sound. Their detailed, illustrated reports are so well written that you could publish them. In succinct sentences they give a vivid picture of our next domain.

With the trip of the children, we have managed to pull off a very clever chess move. Apart from the actual purpose of the trip, we also managed to get an automatic extension of the passport and the children both got their feet on native soil before their 18th birthday. And finally, Onkel, a sort of Turkish Marco Polo, managed to have the effect that the General Consul here took off his “invisibility cloak” in front of Vitali and let us see our whole file of paperwork. We were able to see that our application with all of its papers and photos was all in the folder just exactly the same as the day we turned it in. Vitali is now very enthusiastic about following up on it. Whatever and whoever Onkel is, we now know because of what the children have said, that no person, not excluding our ancestors, may come to him without announcing themselves and getting permission. But for my children there are special provisions. They all want Vitali to come soon and are sure he will get a job there.

There is a complication. The children were supposed to go to the American Consulate and report themselves right away. There is no Turkish quota. It would be possible to intervene here because our consulate is not allowed to get involved in emigration matters. But we will certainly find the means and the ways. Unfortunately, I have not heard from the Zentners since January. I have only heard from Bertha Schiller that Tillie has an agent who is dealing in this matter. 

The children will write to you themselves. Paula Bekhor is now visiting us quite often. She is a charming person, a really great person. I don’t understand why you withheld her from me as a friend. We sympathize very strongly with her.

Paula Friedman and her mother also followed my invitation. They say hello. I think Paula will be going to England soon.

Written around edges:
Greetings to the Schillers to whom I will write separately.
Marie is well. I told her about your arrival.

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Paul has just arrived in America, the first in the family from Europe to do so. He is staying with Arthur Schiller in New York and hopes to find work there. Paul’s and Arthurs’s mothers were first cousins although they may not have met since Paul’s mother died in 1902.

We saw the newspaper article Helene mentions in the post from April 7. Although I have just two newspaper articles about Vitali, it appears he showed up in newspapers at least a few more times, including the second article Helene mentions here which I have never seen. Another research project!

Helene talks about their pulling off “a very clever chess move” by sending their children to Istanbul before they were 18 years old. This was just under the wire, since Eva turned 18 just a week or so after their arrival. I’m glad at least one step in their efforts to escape Vienna went smoothly.

May 2

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have two letters, one in German and one in English, written from Helene in Vienna to her family in San Francisco. You can see that Helene’s English is far less fluent here than it was by the time she was writing letters from Istanbul five years later.

Vienna, 2, May 1941

My dear children!

I probably only got Paul’s letter from April 8 because he sent it registered. And so I ask you for as long as we are still here to also register your letters. I imagine that at least 10 letters are on the way and for some of them it is really rather questionable if we will ever get them. In any case, I ask you to repeat what interesting things you have written us (school matters, etc). We are interested in everything that you have told us, but I would be happy if you could fill this postal gap as much as you still remember the events. I will be writing to Hilda, Paul, Bertha Schiller and Erwin Fulda in the next couple of days.

We are healthy and are waiting from day to day for mail and for the declaration from the consulate. The next letter will be more detailed.

I kiss you dearly
Helen

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Vienna, 2, May 1941

Dear Tillie!

It was not indolence, when I Paul requested to say you our thanks for all troubles, excitements and expenses, simply I felt myself unable to find words to express my love, gratefulness and devotion. I hesitated to alarm you, waiting for a wonder, but the wonder did not appear and when I sent our cable, it was not the last chance only, it was the only way out. One inconvenience relieved one other and the most dangerous affaire was the possibility to lose our nationality. This fear was not unfounded. Fortunately we had your cable that our affidavit and tickets for ship and railway are on the way. So we hope to have no accident till we have the information from the American Consulate.

It is terrible, that we have no mail since February 17 from the children, just one day after sending our cable. I am sorry I am not in sorrow for them, but I am angry, that they do it for us. Paul’s letter from April 8 we received, because it was recommandet. Please tell the children to write only twice a month, but registered, till post functionally normal.

From Paul and the children I know, you are much on the way and in his last cable Paul mentioned that you all are well and that makes me happy. I hope to see you very soon and our inconvenienced moments had been a bad dream only.

With my heartiest greetings to you and Julius, I kiss you
Helen

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Tillie was Helene’s first cousin, the daughter of Helene’s father’s brother. She was born in San Francisco and had married a wealthy man. She was apparently a formidable personality, calling the shots and knowing what was best for everyone. From what my mother told me, Tillie decided who she and Harry would live with and gave (sometimes unsolicited) advice about choices they should make in terms of school and work. Eva and Harry had different ideas and as we’ve seen from some of Harry’s war letters, they did everything they could to get out from under the local family influence. Tillie died in November of 1961. I have only a hazy memory, probably one of my first, of going to her house for a visit. My mother spent a lot of time prepping me and ordering me to be good. I don’t know how successful she was since I was only 2-1/2 years old. I am so grateful that Tillie helped make it possible for my mother and uncle to come to the U.S. If only her efforts on behalf of Helene had been as successful.

April 25

Today’s letter to Helene’s children and nephew in San Francisco appears to have been added to the envelope of the one we saw yesterday – today’s is Clipper letter number 93a, while the letter from April 24 was number 93. The censorship numbers are also the same.

 Vienna, 25 April 1941

My dear children, including Paul!

Do you know what day is today? Two years ago today, a certain pair of siblings went to Istanbul. Do you remember? It’s been 2 years but it seems like yesterday, but I can’t think at the same time that we have not seen even a single line written from you for such a long time. The second bunch of letters in this month has not reached us, but I have no right to grumble or complain because Paul’s happy news came yesterday and with every hour I am waiting for mail, that is another step into our heavenly kingdom. I do not trust myself to imagine what it will be like when you meet us at the pier, because secondly it always turns out differently than how one first thinks it’s going to be. If I think about the way Harry looked when we saw him when you were traveling through here at the Ostbahnhof [East Train Station] and when we received you there, my knees shake still. So different it must have been for the godly Faust when Gretchen uttered that famous quote. (Pardon, she wasn’t that crazy that she actually quoted Berlichingen. [another Goethe work]) I wasn’t in the mood to laugh then and in the later weeks I wasn’t either when I was thinking of any possible way that I could give my Harry, whose batteries seemed to have run out, a boost to get him on the right track. But I do not have to worry about experiencing such unpleasant surprises when I see you next and you don’t either. Papa has changed very little. There’s a little bit of grey hair around his temples, it actually looks quite nice. It fits his appearance and he looks now quite a bit like Uncle Isaac, maybe the way Isaac looked about 10 years ago. I however look like one of Verdi’s witches, but as such I would certainly get a beauty prize. You will see and in the first joy of seeing each other, you won’t notice it right away. I would love to call to myself: “get down off the goat [double meaning: goat/desire] because before we get the declaration from the Consulate and we’ve burned our bridges, it’ll take quite a while. I do enjoy imagining: “on such and such a date your ship will sail” and until then may my heart remain calm and not do anything stupid.

I hope the next wave of mail which comes to Europe will bring a few lines. I actually took the whole morning off this morning to write to Tillie and Hilda, but my thinking cap is not working well, especially for English it needs a detailed inspection and needs to be oiled. Please get ready for a whole pile of letters to arrive in the next few days which express my thanks. I greet all of you and all of our dear ones and I will end with my best wishes and my most sincere greetings to you. 

I hug you affectionately and I kiss you
Helen

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The first line of today’s letter resonates with me – like my grandmother, I am someone who remembers and likes to mark all important dates and anniversaries, much more than the average person. I often am surprised by the synchronicity of something that happens on a particular day that has echoes to the past. As I write this, I realize that my entire 2021 blog is based on this idea – what happened on this particular date in the past?

April 24

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

On April 8, we saw a telegram from Paul regarding money for Helene and Vitali’s journey. On April 22, Paul sent a follow-up telegram which is referenced in today’s letters from Helene to Paul and her children.

Money for 2 train
ship tickets Joint New York
The money has been spent Joint will inform the consulate
Understand everything is fine.
See you soon.
Paul

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Vienna, 24 April 1941

Dear Paul,

I was really quite despondent until your calming dispatch from the 22nd of this month arrived and brought me back to life. Many, many thanks. I am so glad that you mentioned that you are all doing well. “See you soon”, how wonderful that sounds! I was informed from two different sources today that American letters have arrived so I had a new glimmer of hope that I might get to nibble on those as well. There must be, if the children are writing in regular rhythm, quite a lovely bunch of them on the way so I would like to know to which number you have received my letters. Now that we are sure of getting train tickets, which is very great happiness for us, but you probably can’t even appreciate how great it is. We are so eternally grateful to all those who helped make this happen. Please give everyone my greetings and my thanks. I will get Erwin’s address from the affidavit. Tomorrow I will write to Tillie and Hilda, and to you and the children as well if there is time. I have planned to do so much that I need more hands and feet to do it all. So Paul, thank you again! I think the dispatch came in good time.

Hugging you most lovingly
Helen

_______

My dear children! Did my telegram with our modest wishes get your tongue so that you forgot how to write? Is that true? Although Paul’s dispatch is dated yesterday, I am still missing your letters so much because I want to know what you’re doing and to ask you to not lose your good mood and to be happy and full of good things. What’s new they want to know? Tout va très bien, Madame la Marquise, tout va très bien, tout va très bien, just that Paul’s uncle and his wife have been notified that they have lost their citizenship. A strange couple, these two! They just accept it as if it were nothing. I often think “either they have no nerves or they have nerves of steel.” However, I always thought Paul’s aunt was quite a bundle of nerves. When I heard of this mess, I had to think of the inscription on a wayside cross at Madonna di Campiglio, on which you read: “Ha, I knew it,” said Everl: “A dog came into the kitchen, etc., etc.” No that’s not true, this is what it said:

[in Viennese dialect]

St. Barthelma is trash like the dog
A sudden bump on the ground
Do you think he cried?
Nah, crap, he laughed!

Tout va très bien, tout va très bien, only that Papa received a summons to appear on Bräunerstrasse today. I hope he will be allowed to stay until 19 June like me. The telegram that I received yesterday caused my personal barometer to go up to clear with only a few clouds. Yesterday it was mostly dark and stormy. If I, however, get letters from you then it immediately changes to no clouds, beautiful weather. Papa wanted to send you roses via Fleurope, but unfortunately they couldn’t fill the order and Everl will have to spend her birthday without any wishes coming at the right time. Please smile like when you get your picture taken, Everl, okay? Maybe among those letters piling up there will be new pictures from you? We hope that if we get any information from the Consulate, we will be able to dispatch something to you. 

That’s enough for today, I will continue tomorrow. 
Heartfelt, Turkish, honey kisses
Helen

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Harry quoted the same French song in a letter to his sister four years later, which we saw on January 21. The song is happy and high spirited while telling the story of every disaster imaginable, just like the world Helene was experiencing.  

April 19

Here is the text of the telegram in a more comprehensible format:

Received at 28 Geary Street San Francisco CAL 1946 April 19 10:29pm Standard Time

To Harry Lowell 3494 21st St, San Francisco

Arrange meeting me New York Vulcania April 29th
Happy to see you
All liberty sweet
Enjoyed Egypt, Naples
Love
Helen

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Below is a copy of Helene’s travel document, including stamps from Egypt. Since she was stateless, this affidavit was issued so that she could make the trip to the U.S. After that, it was meaningless.

Note the stamp that says the affidavit is good for a single journey within 2 months of issue.

Passport control stamp from Alexandria

AFFIDAVIT IN LIEU OF PASSPORT.

City of Istanbul
Consulate General of the
United States of America

Before me, Charles P. McVicker, Jr., Vice Consul of the United States of America at Istanbul, Turkey, duly commissioned and qualified, personally appeared this 28th day of November A.D., 1945, Mrs. HELENE COHEN, affiant herein, who after being duly sworn, deposes and says:

That her full name is Helene Cohen and that her present address is c/o Gislaved Ltd. S., Asirefendi Cad., Bencibara H. 4/8, Istanbul, Turkey; 

That she was born at Bilin, Czechoslovakia, on November 20, 1886;

That she departed from Bilin, Czechoslovakia, in December, 1902 for Vienna, Austria, where she lived until October, 1943, at which time she was deported to a concentration camp in Ravensbruck, Germany, by the Gestapo; in March, 1945, she was released by means of an exchange of Turkish and German nationals and sent to Istanbul, Turkey, where she was interned together with other refugees;

That she was formerly of Turkish nationality but is unable to obtain a regular passport because her husband and herself were expatriated as they had not been in Turkey since 1927 and are no longer recognized as Turkish citizens;

That she executed this affidavit in order to have a travel document upon which to proceed to the United States where she intends to reside permanently.

And further deponent saith not.

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If I were not writing a blog based on the date, I might end the story here as Helene boards the ship to the U.S. It’s wonderful to think about the happiness and relief Helene and her children have about her safety and their imminent reunion. 

April 12

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have the first letter Helene writes to her nephew Paul Zerzawy as he is en route to America. In the post of April 10, we learned about the logistics of his travel.

 Vienna, 12 April 1939 [answered from Southampton 13 April]

Dear Paul! Your greeting from London was both a pleasure and a surprise.

The point of writing today is only to reach you while you’re still in Europe and wish you a good trip and to express my hope that I hear from you very, very soon and I will be using your New York address in a short amount of time. Please greet Arthur and his family from me and tell them how much I would be happy to see them again. I have already told you that our eviction was rejected. We have taken care of this worry. We have not heard anything yet about the children and the waiting around is demoralizing for me.

Paul, I wish you all the best for the future!

I believe Goethe said ‘“Do the best, throw it into the sea, if the fish doesn’t see it, then God will see it.”

Throw all your dark thoughts into the sea and keep only the most beautiful and good ones in your memory. We have much in common. We have many common experiences and into the ocean, maybe we really will not be separated.

Many, many kisses from me to all of you
Helen

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I was struck by the sweetness of this bon voyage letter. Like in letters to her children, Helene talks about their common bond and history, which for them goes back more 40 years. For once, she is not actually quoting Goethe. He wrote a poem called Der Fischer but this quotation comes from elsewhere.

As I searched for the quotation, I discovered that many cultures take credit for it. Is it German? Turkish? Greek? Arabic? Other?

I found it as a German song (Tue das Gute und wirf es ins Meer, sieht es der Fisch nicht, so sieht es der Herr.: Do what is good and throw it into the sea, if the fish doesn't see it, the Lord sees it.), as a German aphorism from the Turkish (!) (Tu' Gutes und wirf das Brot ins Meer! Sieht es der Fisch nicht, so sieht's doch der Herr!: Do good and throw the bread into the sea! If the fish doesn't see it, the Lord will see it!), and as a Turkish proverb (İyilik yap denize at, balık bilmezse halik bilir.: Do good and throw it into the sea; if the fish don’t know it, God will.)

April 9

Today we have a newspaper clipping from the April 9, 1965 edition of the San Francisco Examiner.

From the April 9, 1965 edition of the San Francisco Examiner

A Widow’s $1,000 SS Jackpot

Mrs. V. Cohen, 1408 8th Ave., wins $1,000 in the Examiner’s Social Security Game. A 78 year old widow, Mrs. Cohen is a long time player in the game and her first win is the top prize.

“When I saw my social security number at the head of the list all I could think is ‘this must be crazy.’ I’m dreaming. I’ve often thought how wonderful it would be to win the big prize but I honestly never thought it could happen to me.”

Well, it happened to Mrs. Cohen and it could happen to you when you join in this simple, easy-to-play game. All you do is write out your social security number on a postcard or put it in a letter and mail it to: The Examiner, P.O. Box 3634 Rincon Annex, San Francisco 19.

Once your entry is received at this address, you are in the game. Step number two is to check The Examiner each day to see if your number appears.

Daily, Monday through Friday, The Examiner publishes 30 winning social security numbers with a total cash value of $2,000. This is the way the cash divides: 1st prize, $1,000. 2nd prize, $200. 3rd prize, $100. 4th prize, $50. twenty-six additional prizes pay off $25 each.

Any person holding a social security number can play. It doesn’t matter where you live, how old you are, or whether or not you subscribe to The Examiner.

However, the point of the game is for you to find your own social security number. No person associated with the Social Security Game either phones, writes or contacts winners.

---

How nice to see some happy news for a change! Helene’s nephew Robert Zerzawy mentioned this article in his letter in the March 23 post. Times have certainly changed – imagine a newspaper publishing your Social Security Number these days. $1,000 in 1965 would be worth about $8,300 in 2021. It must have felt like a fortune.

April 4

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Vienna, 4 April 1940

To Paul, the reporter! You can certainly keep on with this system. It is entirely enough for me to hear from you even just a few lines and to find out from you how you’re doing acclimatizing yourself to life there. I think it’s easier for the children. You can believe me that it’s easier for you to do that than to deal with all the changes here which wouldn’t be even possible anymore with your profession. If I only knew if the separation we are now experiencing is payment for the happy family life we have had or if it’s some sort of test for even further things. I will try think of myself worthy of the latter interpretation and try to do better at being patient and virtuous. It’s really hard to be virtuous - it would be unthinkable for me if I did not admit that the postal harvest this month has been particularly satisfactory. We received almost every week about a piece and a half of mail, although sometimes of course it was three letters in one week and then totally quiet for 14 days. Then we just get out the folder where we keep these things and we read the old letters again. This flight from reality has become a cult with us and is an excellent way of not losing contact. With the intensity with which all this happens, the other person must feel how one is with him in thought. Are you laughing? Well let me have this delusion, but it is not a delusion. Sometimes I feel as if the children had stayed just a little longer at school. The few weeks which children went to summer camp during school vacation seemed longer to me than the current separation. But back then, one had the wish or at least the possibility to amuse oneself. But this is not always the case. Then there are days, usually when there is no mail, when everything seems twice as hard and one thinks of the difficulty about 3 times as often. A heavy sleep is like a narcotic. Then, after such a nirvana, when the mailman rings the bell and actually does bring a letter from you, then I take a deep breath and my limbs firm themselves up. It becomes a delight to do the dishes, and my fantasy has received new wings during cleaning. Thank God there is no more room for any further outpouring. Please greet all of our dear relatives from me and kisses from

Helen

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After almost a year of living in the U.S., Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy is still trying to acclimate himself to his new environment. As we have seen in earlier letters, he found it difficult to make a living, particularly since his English wasn’t very fluent. I don’t know whether it was much of a comfort when Helene points out that he would not have been able to continue in his profession as a lawyer in Vienna or Prague. No matter where he was, life would have been hard.

Helene says that she thinks her children have found the transition easier than Paul. I have been thinking lately about what it’s like to be a refugee or immigrant depending on your stage of life. Landing in a new environment could be freeing or terrifying or something in between.

My mother and Harry were teenagers when they arrived in San Francisco and became fluent in English very quickly. They completed high school in the U.S. and had their first jobs here. Although they came with nothing, their whole lives were ahead of them. Their cousin Paul was 45 years old. He had been a successful professional in Europe, but also had nothing when he arrived in the U.S. He found it much more difficult to learn English than did his young cousins, and his European legal training was worthless. The little money he could make was by giving piano lessons and being an accompanist. It must have been very depressing and demoralizing to imagine the years ahead.  Helene arrived in San Francisco at the age of 60, having lived through atrocities and lost her husband. She too had to figure out how to start anew. Unlike her children who looked forward to their futures with hope, she clung to past happy times, knowing she would not see them again. All of them landed in the same place and yet all of them saw life in the U.S. through different lenses.

March 26

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have three letters written on the same day. One to each of her children and one to her nephew.

Vienna, March 26, 1940

He, Hi, Hu, Honey, Harry!

Do you know if Jo and Paula are our only acquaintances? I have had some contact with the following: Frau Imi, Frau Ata, Herr Vim and Mr Fex. I have more to do with them than I would really like. Other acquaintances you might like such as Jarzebinka, Griot, Cherry, Brandy Marilowka and some other Polish citizens [includes little drawings - probably brands or flavors of alcohol]. “If you have problems, you also have liquor” and we have enough liquor [from H.C. Wilhelm Busch from Die fromme Helene – “Pious Helene” or “Helene who Couldn’t Help It”]. Now you will see why my letters are kind of weird sometimes. Papa says I’m going to get a red drinker’s nose, but Jo and I drink competitively and Papa just watches us and says “Oh, jeez, too bad about every single word.” In the land of Prohibition I will probably become a solid coffee drinker again.

How is my ROTC boy doing? I am looking forward to the next illustrated newsletter. I got a letter from Eva today which only took 47 days to get to us. That seems almost normal. Paul wrote on it too so I am a little more oriented as to what’s going on now.  

There was a man from the air command here looking at our apartment because we have received notice that we will have to leave the apartment soon. Papa acknowledged that we received that notice but that we are not at the present time thinking of giving up our apartment. How much I would like to since so many people have shown interest in seeing us elsewhere and maybe will help us to figure that out.

Papa tells me I need to finish this up because it’s time for him to leave and I want to add a few lines to Paul as well. See you later and don’t forget me!

Kisssssssssssssssssssssssssss…..s
Helen

Handwritten note at bottom: Greet Hilda & Nathan, Tillie and Julius

Handwritten note on top: Hi Harry, Jo, Cheers!

---

As usual, Helene keeps her sense of humor in her letter to her son, drawing pictures of alcohol bottles, quoting a German humorist from a book with her name in the title. At the same time, she alludes to the difficulty of their situation: having few friends left, drinking alcohol to ease the pain, and wishing there were a way out of Vienna when it’s been made clear that they are no longer welcome there.

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 Vienna, March 26, 1940

My much beloved Eva-child!

I was just writing to you when the post brought me your letter from February 7. My suspicion that you are not getting all the letters I send comes from Harry’s letter - he got 7 but you only got 5 letters from me. I have been keeping to the order pretty carefully although I may have inserted a birthday letter to him which would not have been in order. My letter of today is the 23rd Clipper letter.

I am thrilled that school and school materials are free. I believe that if I ever do make it across the big pond, I will go to school again myself. Marie Theresia studied languages when she was 72 years old. Since the study of nursing takes 3 years and you may have the chance for further study, I am on board with your idea. I might have wished for you an easier profession, as you can probably tell.

In a recent letter I gave you a list of every letter I received and it would help if you kept track of them in a similar manner. I’ve made copies of most of them and then I can tell if certain important communications have gotten lost and repeat that information if it is of importance.

Lizette let us know about the kind letters you wrote. She let us know right away. It seems to be a lovely fellow who has now been born into this family. I don’t mean Fortuné and Beppo but the well-born Macka-Linie. Since we are thinking of Istanbul, I mention that nothing has changed in our matter. I’ll ask Paul if has time to go to the Turkish Consulate in Frisco and ask if they can maybe give us a tip. Because of the name, I don’t want it from you. I don’t promise myself much from this intervention, but in these times you shouldn’t leave any stone unturned. Papa could earn money in Europe. For example, Switzerland would be wide open for him in Koppl’s opinion, but without our passports we really can’t do anything - we have to let dear God be a good man. Even though this passive way of acting fits our lifestyle, my impatience would lead me to go to a place where at least I could get normal postal communication with you. I suppose that’s a lot to ask.

How are your teeth Eva - girl? Why didn’t you write to me about that? Please make up for this. Sometimes I get after myself that I didn’t ask Dr. Ornstein right away when you had the flu. But Dr. Schneider was so sure that I was convinced that he was a good diagnostician. Don’t worry about it my child - you will get used to the dentures and they have very good dentists over there.

Papa and I took an Easter walk yesterday. We walked through the city park. Not only was there a lack of flowers, well-dressed people weren’t there either. Even those people couldn’t make up for the spring flowers we didn’t see. We looked for the little ones at the smaller and the larger playground and I felt like we were looking 10 years into the past. I saw you in my mind playing ball or playing in the sand or just looking out to see if the man with the “sticks” [?] was around. After we put ourselves in such a sentimental mood, we left that place which connects me with some of the most beautiful memories of my life. Papa said “At least you can visit your grandchildren here sometime.” We went home via the Ring, Kärntnerstrasse, Wollzeile. The streets were very lively, because the first spring air lured everyone out of the house. We were gone for more than an hour and we didn’t see a single face we knew.

Now I’ll end and I’ll write you a few more letters by hand. Farewell my child and let yourself be kissed in spirit.

[Many handwritten notes all over both pages:

At the top of first page: Prosit. Why haven’t you written to us about the letter we sent on the 21st of this month?

Upside down at top of first page: Best greetings to the Schillers

Upside down at the top of the second page: Today I have no more paper. Next I will write a long handwritten report. Kisses from Helene 

At the bottom of the second page: My dear child, I am so ashamed that you want a handwritten letter. I once gave up something because I couldn’t type … because you can’t read my handwriting. Maybe my Istanbul letters have been misunderstood. ]

In this letter to Eva, Helene revisits her guilt about her daughter’s teeth. We learned about this in the letter posted on January 28.

At the end of her life, Helene lived at the Jewish Home for the Aged in San Francisco. She no longer spoke English and she had no memories of the present – she may have had Alzheimer’s, but it didn’t have a name at the time. She was happy, sang opera, and in her mind she was living in pre-war Vienna. When I went to visit her once in 1979, I was taking a course in German and understood a bit of what she said. She did not know who I was and talked to me as if we were in a park in Vienna. She asked if I knew her children. I think she must have been living the very same memory she described in this letter. So although Helene didn’t get to visit her grandchildren in Stadtpark, her granddaughter visited with her there in spirit.

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Vienna, March 26, 1940

Dear Paul,

Congratulations on the apartment!  It’s a step forward, slowly but surely.  We don’t live in the land of milk and honey nowadays, but if we are patient and can wait, we can accomplish something.  Soon you will have regained your independence and achieved a sphere of influence appropriate to your enthusiasm and knowledge. In a country where you are still in the process of learning the language for practical use, it may take a bit longer.  I am reminded of what an acquaintance, who now lives in London, once told me: “What good is it that I can read Wilde or Galsworthy in the original, but I don’t know how to say ‘rain gutter’?”  We looked it up right after that, but I don’t think this knowledge would really help me make progress in the USA.  I only wish I knew if it would serve any purpose for me to learn Turkish, Chinese, Spanish or English.  But what does a goose dream about?  Just about corn. (something is wrong about that word, but I don’t know what). So I dream about reuniting with my children.  While I work with a broom and duster, I wander through California’s blessed fields with you.  Let me hear from you soon, and don’t worry about whether the letter will arrive or not.  That’s all for today, and break a leg!

Helen

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I am in awe of Helene’s seeming fearlessness at facing uprooting herself, finding a way to earn a living and learning a new language. As we see in her letter to Paul, since they don’t know where they will end up, she doesn’t quite know which language to learn. In thinking about learning new things, in her letter to Eva, Helene refers to the Habsburg ruler, but for once she had her dates wrong. Maria-Theresa lived to age 63.

March 25

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

As we saw in the letter of March 17, 1941, Helene was finally desperate enough to ask for financial assistance from her relatives in San Francisco to help her and Vitali come to San Francisco.

Today’s letter is written from Paul Zerzawy to Erwin Fulda, a (distant?) cousin of Helene’s – you can see a photo of him visiting Helene in Vienna in the post of February 18. In the letter from that day, she is adamant about not wanting to ask him for money. Presumably this letter would have been used as proof for the American immigration authorities that if Helene and Vitali were allowed to come the U.S., they be able to support themselves or have the assistance of American relatives. You can see that $70 went a long way in 1941.

Paul makes it clear in this letter that the expectation is that Helene and Vitali would find a way to make a living in America, or that Paul and Helene’s children would support Helene and Vitali until they could do so. This letter is a back-up plan should they be unable to come up with the money. We know that Paul had been having a difficult time earning a living in San Francisco and at this point Harry was finishing high school and Eva was in her first year of nursing school, so it’s likely they would have needed this assistance, at least in the beginning. According to this letter, Paul expects to assist his brother Robert as well. Presumably when Robert comes to the U.S. from England (which he never does).

March 21

Copy of letter from Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy in San Francisco to his step-brother Fritz Orlik and his wife Hanne in Haifa. We saw a letter from Fritz on January 25.

 21. March 1940.

Dear Fritz and dear Hanne!

After almost 2 months your letter from January 24th arrived. You were at that point still without any mail from me. I got your first card and an earlier letter which was forwarded on to me from Arthur Schiller and I answered those shortly after getting them. In case my answer was lost, I will, before I go into what your last letter said, repeat the content of that one in brief.

After I had expressed my joy at the end of your journey and the long and even longer period of uncertainty, which was very nerve-wracking for all of us, and expressed my hope that you would get used to your new situation soon and smoothly, I told about myself. First, I unfortunately had to deny the news that you’d gotten from somewhere (from where?) that I had already found a job. As proof, I mentioned that after six months of futile attempts to find work and be able to support myself, I had moved from New York to San Francisco to stay with the parents of the person who gave an affidavit for me in order to save money on food and lodging. Then I reported about the Stopford matter. Since common fortune to the extent that it could be made liquid had already been doled out to us, your portion of the foreign accounts was already sent on to you by Robert. And since the rest was invested in securities and are frozen and secondly really belong to the bank to cover our loan and probably don’t entirely cover it either. Otto got the approved amount of £200 in my name with Robert’s money (a service handled by Stein), he got this for an exchange rate and had transferred it to me in New York right when the pound was at its lowest. I kept as much of this money as I was entitled to after my private settlement with Robert. Robert’s private debt to me had been reduced by my costs for food and lodging in Prague. This money I used up both here and in New York - all I really have anymore is an emergency reserve. How much Robert has of his part of this which I had transferred to him in London is not known to me. You know perhaps directly from him or from the Schauer girls that he has no job, and he is not doing very well with his stomach or his teeth (or he was); I really don’t know the details. Every letter says he’s doing better, but you can also see that he wasn’t doing that well at the time of the last letter. In any case, he had to have all of his teeth removed and dentures made and he has to follow a strict diet (or at least he’s supposed to!).

The other stuff I wrote is pretty much out of date so I’ll go to the present now. I am concerned that you have not yet been able to earn enough money and that Hanne on top of all that is suffering from gallstones. I really cannot help you with a sufficient sum of money as you see from what I've told you before and what I will be telling you in a moment, but in consultation with Robert who told me about your unfortunate situation in his letter and in both of his names because he still has a settlement to make with me, I am sending you the enclosed check drawn on the Bank of America here, #133965, for $60U.S. to the Ottoman Bank in Haifa. (The check is made out to “Frederick Orlik” so you will have to cash it that way. I hope you will not have any modesty about that.) According to today’s exchange rate, that may be a bit more than 16 English pounds. It’s not much, but we wish to send you a little bit to help with Hanne’s health, or if her health is already restored to her, then you can keep it for your household. Take it as intended. It is less than we would wish, but is unfortunately all that we can give you.

Otherwise, we will have to comfort ourselves that as we know from experience, all immigrants spend many months and sometimes years to manage to get a decent income no matter where fate has sent them. For myself, I do not want to complain much because San Francisco is a splendid city with a magical climate, tranquilly living well-mannered kind of people live here who even show some interest in art and music and have no hatred of Jews, unlike in New York. But a regular job is something one cannot find and so I have taken on the career of a piano teacher and accompanist. I earn a little more than my furnished room costs me, which I felt prompted to do because I think I was bothering the older Schiller married couple. (For mail however, nevertheless you should still use my address: 731-Eleventh Avenue. - that’s the best way to reach me.) With the help of the many invitations, I can pretty much make it financially and I hope I do not have to make any more use of the bank account which has pretty much shrunk to an iron reserve which is not even enough to buy anything with. But if I’m lucky, the number of my students will increase. I have plenty of company and through the help of all my relatives and my own promotional activities, since the 1st of February - the day on which I started my new activity - I have gained five students. But you see, although I am speaking relatively of luck, it has taken nine months to do this, to get to earn my first dollars. And many others are doing just the same. So don’t give up; it will happen.

Now I want to report what I know about our relatives. Mother wrote on February 10th from Podebrad that she hasn’t had any mail from you for months and that she has only heard indirectly that you are staying with Fritz P and that you are looking for a way to make a living. She is somewhat comforted in her own comings and goings because she has the Schauers and Marianna. The pension question has been solved to her advantage, as far as I know. There has been a huge number of letters in both directions which have been lost, and so I can do more with the help of my fantasy than with concrete reports, but I do think that she is really suffering from the lack of mail. Robert’s letters are getting lost too, and vice versa. Since he does have mail from you, I assume that you are in touch. His address in any case is “Heston” West Kilbride, Ayrshire, Scotland. He is near Anny and Doris, and you probably have a letter from them.

The huge distances and the war and the losses of letters associated with it make it quite impossible to keep correspondence going in all directions. I write as much and as well as I can and I am happy when I hear at least a sign of life from you. I hope to hear from you soon and through you, about the others.

I wish you all the best from the bottom of my heart.

Your
Paul

I have also received a copy of the letter you mentioned which was written from Mother to Robert on the 5th of November, and I don’t really know what they are talking about either.

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I am grateful that Paul Zerzawy was trained as a lawyer. I assume that is why I have so many copies of important letters and documents. Beyond the description of his own and his relatives’ challenging lives and financial hardship, he gives a moving description of the lives of immigrants, as true today as it was then.

March 20

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

 Today we have two letters written on the same day.

Front side of Helene’s letter to her son Harry.

Vienna, 19. March 1940.

My only little Harry boy.

In what I sent to Eva, you will have realized how few pieces of news get through from you and you see how hungry I am for even the littlest bit. If I did not have my imagination, which allows me to imagine what you’re doing, I would have to be very sad. Papa is trying his hardest to distract me and he is such a good person. For other reasons I am looking forward to Sunday because the following day is Monday and I might have a chance to get some mail that day. Last Monday brought us a letter from Eva but the fact that you’re worrying about us and doing things for us is making me sad. No sense in worrying. It’s not in the cards - it would be so easy to solve the problem that we are separated from you - but that would not even be normal. Parents are always interested in what their children’s lives are about. One of the oldest things in the order of the world, which nowadays has really come into a certain amount of disorder. I feel like I am a country cousin who is sitting at the train station hours before the train is scheduled, waiting for the train. The waiting period seems so long, but finally I hear the whistling of the locomotive. The heart pounds a bit more and you get to your destination. 

How are you doing in school? Do you have nice classmates and what do you do in your free time? Easter is just around the corner, are you going to work as a clerk again? When I imagine you doing this job, I think about all the Hanseatic books once occupied my imagination. From “should and have” started to “Max Havelar.” We live in our world of thoughts and that’s not really such bad company.

Your letters are the only thing we have to read because we don’t really have to concentrate on those.

Yesterday I wanted to go to procure for E&H Lowell some shaving cream for Papa for March 21 [Vitali’s birthday] but our account was overdrawn. We have an advance until July and so can’t really buy anything.

Yesterday, there was a family scene and I thought about the fact that you were not here really didn't think it was possible to win the following fight without help. I wanted to get Papa’s nightgown, the one with the Indian pattern, to be washed because you could barely see the design anymore. But Vitali went wild and was making crazy gestures. I had to laugh how he was defending his piece of clothing and I could almost not win this battle. He was afraid that washing his nightgown might ruin its “elegance” and the expression on his face was so fearful that I promised he could borrow my morning parade outfit. That lasted 1/4 hour and then his nightgown with its one-time Indian pattern was indeed sent out to be cleaned. My promise was kind of a ruse because I knew Papa wouldn’t be able to use my clothing because it wouldn’t fit him. He didn’t take me at my word but he bought himself another one for the points he still had so he could change and he’s quite proud of his new acquisition. It was a really nice Busch family scene. Unfortunately, I can’t use your camera. That’s too bad because you would have gotten a kick out of this. What is your Baldina doing? Is she working? Is she out of a job? Not making movies anymore? It seems like maybe she’d make 5 schillings, but that seems unlikely.

I’m glad that my waiting will bring me the reward of a detailed letter. I will soon join the ranks of classic “waiting women” like Penelope, Solveigh, etc.

So that’s it for today, greetings to all the dear ones.

Kuuuuuuuuuss

Helen

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Front side of letter from Helene to Paul Zerzawy

(handwritten note that it was received April 3)

Vienna, 19. March 1940.

My dear Paul! I assume that you did not just leave it at the one card from November 4 and that letters from you and from the children are still on their way. So I am answering one of these imaginary letters. Please excuse me if I don’t respond to any questions that you might have asked. You can’t really accuse me of superficiality in this case.

If I were to give you a description of our days you could be forbidden to fish because you are yawning so much. That’s why I can only assure you that it’s not an easy task to go from being quite busy to being forced to do nothing. Well, doing nothing is not quite the right expression because my time is really taken up with cooking, washing the dishes and the laundry, straightening up, and other kinds of housework. However I have enough leisure during these activities to think about a lot of things. This thinking is what reminds me in a painful way that in our matter we must take consciousness of our situation. In addition, there’s the matter of the mail dragging along and that just makes me have dark thoughts. But I don’t want to foist off my melancholy mood on you. It goes away as soon as I get one of those letters that’s on the way.

Now you’ve been in San Francisco for 5 months already and we only know from you that you’ve arrived well, you live at Bertha’s house, and that you are studying language with Hilda and paying for it by the clearing certificate. That’s quite a bit, isn’t it?

For the care of my children in New York I have not really thanked you, because I only recently found out from a letter from Harry from October 21 in what a selfless way you cared for the children. I will make up for all of this and I hope that I can pay back all the love that was shown to my children.

I am afraid I have today against my will have let myself go here and I hope I haven’t ruined your mood. Sometimes one is so melancholy and it would be better to not write letters when one is feeling that way, but today is the last day for Clipper post. Even though I know that it will still lay around, I don’t want it to be my fault that you are delayed in getting mail.

Paul, get yourself together and write me a very, very detailed general report. Maybe send it as a package so it’ll be cheaper.

I am wishing all the best for you. I am your

Helen

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Although written on the same day, the letters posted today were translated 18 months apart — we get a fuller picture when both are read together. Like the letters from March 17, Helene’s letters to her son Harry and to her nephew Paul were very different. To Harry she tells a story of family life filled with literary references. To Paul, she is much more direct. We learn that Paul met Eva and Harry when they arrived in New York and how he helped them make their way to San Francisco.

Helene’s likening herself to the “waiting women” of myth and literature paints a vivid picture. From a summary of characters from Ibsen’s play Peer Gynt, “Solveig, Peer’s ideal love, always beautiful and always patient. Although she grows old and almost blind while waiting for Peer’s return, she has power to defy the Button Moulder by her belief that her faith and love reveal the real Peer. She seems to represent love, holy and remote but everlasting.” Edvard Grieg wrote music to accompany the play, including “Solveig’s Song.”

Even when asking Harry about his job as a clerk (probably for the Levy-Zentner wholesale fruit and vegetable company), she brings in references to old international merchant and trading companies and efforts, painting a more interesting picture than the mere title “clerk” would do.

March 17

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today’s letter to Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy was written on the same date and has the same Clipper and censorship numbers as the letter posted yesterday, which makes me believe both letters were sent together. I organized and archived the papers based on recipient as well as where and when they were found. At that time, I didn’t understand that all of these letters belonged together and told parts of the same story. Therefore, I prioritized translation of Helene’s letters to her children over the documents I found in Paul’s box, never imagining how integral they would be. So these two letters were translated months apart and the “conversation” wasn’t obvious until I began looking at the letters by date.

 #82                             Vienna, 17 March 1941

My dear Paul! Your telegram on the affidavit, etc was certainly the answer to my letter of February 12th. I am blaming myself again, not that I overestimated the necessity and direness of our situation, but because I am causing you so much expense. I know from Hilda that you are working like crazy and when I imagine your weary, exhausted face and think about how many hours you must still torture yourself to earn money even to send a telegram, then I could just cry. I would have answered you with a prepaid answer telegram if it were possible in order to tell you about my health. So please don’t send a cable unless it’s really necessary. I do not want to make so much trouble for you. I have certainly not exaggerated, nor did I want to cause you unnecessary fear; but I believed that Robert or someone else had written about us, but since I had heard nothing from you I knew that you were either not informed about us or incorrectly informed. There is no place for reproach here. I certainly hesitated when it came to telling you about unpleasant things, but until November the postal service was fairly secure and it took 12-14 days for a letter to arrive. But after this time the Clipper letters were taking so long and sending a telegraph would have also been possible. I know that I wrote to you last year that I didn’t need any material assistance and that I would like to save the willingness of the relatives to help until the time for our departure. Now it has come and I must add to my request for ship tickets, namely tickets from Vienna so that we can get to the ship. We are not allowed to pay this with our own funds. I promised you on my honor at the time that I would tell you the naked truth. The point has come when I must swallow my pride and ask our relatives to stand by me. What it costs me, the effort to do this, you can well imagine. Not that I have any doubt about the generosity, but precisely because of it I find it so agonizing. As far as the second part of your telegram goes, you didn’t tell me anything new. We knew all this already, but it’s not true of all districts in the USA. But it’s tout égal to us, in other words we don’t care how we earn our living. It’s premature to rack our brains about that now and it’s kind of like the story of the two people from here who had a fight with each other. They had grown up together as friends and decided to buy a car together. They fought about it and they treated each other rudely because each of them thought he should be in the driver’s seat and neither wanted to sit inside the car. They fought until the stronger one said “you’re going to get off that coach box!” and then he k.o.’ed the other. But we don’t want to land over there with such an intent. I have figured out (!!) that you have received all of my letters and you will know what’s going on. If the post were running normally, you would not get such hurried news from us all at once. In closing Paul, I thank you for your willingness to help, your trouble, and last but not least I am sorry that I caused you such dark hours. And now it seems between our departure there are not hundreds of days but maybe thousands, measured by what’s going on. So please I ask you to forgive me for my inappropriate expressions of reproach and my unjust accusations. My disenchantment with Europe is the reason for everything and the excuse for it. Please greet all the loved ones from us and be kissed by

Helen

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Helene says that the telegram she received must be in response to a letter from February 12. Despite the dozens of letters I have from Helene at that time, I don’t have a letter from that date. But we have seen letters addressing their situation and requesting that Paul reply by telegram, as well as the text of the telegrams that Paul sent.

Helene is much clearer with Paul about the direness of their situation in Vienna than she was in the letter to her children which I posted yesterday. She remains ever resilient and optimistic, certain she and Vitali will find a way to support themselves in America. As I read through the letters from this time, I am filled with “if onlys” – if only Helene had asked for help sooner, if only Paul had more resources at his disposal, if only…

March 9

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today’s letter is from soldier Harry Lowell to his sister Eva who was a nurse in San Francisco.

 New Guinea
March 7, 1944

Dear “Angel in White”,

Thank you for your letters, old girl; letters here are as welcome to us as a piece of a boot is to a starved Arctic explorer – even more so.

The news about your quitting your good job had me sort of worried, in view of Tillie’s probable anger. (I like to have “all quiet on the home front.”) Furthermore, your intentions to accept that Standard Oil offer led me to believe that you are becoming more and more like your brother – looney is the word. I appreciate your adventurous spirit because I know I’d do the same thing if I were you. Due to my valuable experiences in the desert and tropics, I am in a position to give you sound brotherly advice; my “cons” outnumber your “pros” by a longshot. I can about imagine what your “pros” are, so lend an ear to the “cons” of your affectionate brother who is always looking out for the welfare of his foolish little sister. (How dramatic, eh? I would be pretty good at writing soap operas don’t you think?) Well, to begin with, life there will be different from what you expect it to be. I know what it is like to be far away from family, friends, and things which in civilization are taken for granted but which, far away, gain a thousand percent in value. It’s a sort of loneliness that overcomes one. To add to your tasks as a nurse, that feeling of loneliness and quasi seclusion from the outside world and its comforts, would be foolish. (As you are not very religiously inclined you are apt to go batty before you know it). That part of the world has nothing to offer in scenic beauty or nice weather; desert may be the only scenery surrounding you and intense heat is the climate there. (I suppose you’ve read about the hardships of the Foreign Legionnaires. That Standard Oil plant may be just as secluded as a legion’s fort.) A further “con” is that a pretty face on a nurse in that corner of the world is a disadvantage rather than an advantage. If the men over there feel the way we lonely soldiers here do – o lá lá – some maternity ward would have plenty to do. (By cracky, I sound like an old grandmother!) Believe me, Eva, one does the most irrational things away from civilization. (The nurses here have the reputation of the WACs of whom I wrote you from Fort Warren.) There are more “cons” yet, but they would fill pages. Tell me in your next letter whether my lecture surpasses that of Paul’s.

Things are about the same as before; New Guinea is a good place to stay away from. If it weren’t for the postal regulations I would like to send a nice foot-long constrictor to Ursula’s mother [Ursula was a friend of Eva’s from nursing school]. I’ve seen quite a few big snakes and rats that were about two feet long. There are many peculiar insects to make life more interesting and itching.

The food isn’t bad at all.

How are things going in San Francisco? I would give a lot to be there right now. Daydreaming is becoming a habit with me.

Have you seen Hilda lately? I hope Paul is coming along fine.

So you are teaching French to Ursula; what is she going to do with that knowledge? I think English will be used instead of French as the international and diplomatic language.

I certainly envy you for the opportunity of going skiing every weekend! Well, I’ll be back soon; it won’t be long now.

Well, that’s about all there is to write at present.

As to my advice, I hope I have described the situation as dark as possible. It should give you something to think about; anyway, think twice before you rush into such an adventure. (Ugh.)

Love,
Harry
(Chaplain)

P.S. Give my regards to everyone.
P.P.S. Please, send me some copies of the Sunday editions of the Examiner and Chronicle.
P.P.S.S. If it’s possible send me also some Readers’ Digests.

        Thank you.

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This letter gives us a glimpse into the lives of Helene’s children after living almost 4-1/2 years in the U.S. They have been separated from their parents since 1939 and have heard virtually nothing from them since late 1941. I imagine they know their parents have been sent to the camps, but communication was far more difficult and sporadic than it had been while Helene and Vitali were stranded in Vienna. Eva and Harry are unable to do anything at this point to assist their parents.

This letter is filled with the same kind of humor and spirit as their mother’s letters. We learn a great deal about Eva’s life thanks to Harry’s references to her letters.

Eva wanted a life of travel and adventure. We learn here that she was considering a job as a nurse at Standard Oil, presumably in the Middle East since Harry mentions the desert. Her brother was able to get out of San Francisco, but there was no encouragement for her to do so. I have often wondered how different her life would have been if she had been born at a time and place where she was encouraged to follow her dreams.

I love Harry’s brotherly advice. He has adopted a lot of American slang. It is interesting that he talks to Eva about what it’s like to leave everything and everyone behind to go to some remote location. Of course, that’s exactly what they did together in coming to San Francisco! My mother’s experience of American young men was not positive, and his advice would not have made her any more trusting. It’s no wonder she ended up marrying an older immigrant from Europe.

Below Eva’s 1943 nursing school graduation photo. She is at the far right in the front row (a bit out of focus).

March 8

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

# 25

Vienna, 8 March 1940

Harry my boy,

Yes, I got your illustrated letter from January 22 and from February 22 (the latter arrived 5 minutes ago) and I’m very happy. Every letter is read aloud several times. Even those who aren’t that involved would pretty much have to memorize it.

The milk of the US and the pious thoughts - I’m so glad that you have given up the American habit of chewing gum. The lion’s share I know from your sister to whom I express heartfelt thanks. If she helped you in your attempt to give up this habit by calling you the term of endearment “Pig”, she was wrong. As far as I can remember my studies of science, this tasty animal which delivers ham to us is not a ruminant. If you should fall back on your old habits, she should remember this.

The loss of your mustache apparently wasn’t a problem. Have you forgotten that promised me a picture when it grows back? Now you have taken it off without us getting to meet it. When you’re growing this male attribute which I find unattractive - if you stop that, then there must be all sorts of surprises awaiting us when we see each other.

I’m a little jealous that the stories of Mouffle’s meat rations correspond to ours but I would be happy to switch places with him as far as the quality goes.

Now there’s not much new to report. It’s still freezing cold. In the Prater Park, the trees aren’t blooming yet wine is not growing yet, the first harbingers of spring are a pair of flies who apparently intended to come into our kitchen. I don’t think I was very polite to them. At least its still a little warmer. I took off my third pair of stockings and am only wearing two pair now, one from rubber and one from a wool-like substance which is not really following the Palmers’ model, which is my main concern.

We are worried about San Francisco, but then we go to the movie theater on the corner and see a Wild West film. There may be some little bit of California to see there - thievery in the Pacific or cut down one of those giant 1000-year old trees. Whatever. We are not going to this as a student of gangster-ology, but just to be entertained.

Tonight the king of Iraq gave us passports so we could visit you. Unfortunately, that was just a dream and he’s dead anyway and his resurrection is fairly unlikely.

Until we get the next illustrated news, we will get some news without pictures and I am looking forward to that. You haven’t gotten any letters for a while? He, Hi-Hu-Honey-Harry-Bubi, I am writing until my fingers fall off. Do let us know what letters you have received and I will let you know how many letters I have. You won’t have much of that but to the extent that there’s anything interesting to say I will repeat what I said.

My beloved sugar baby, let your heart’s desire guess what you want and give up your philosophizing. It will just give you a bald spot, just ask Paul. No sense in asking Papa about that, because he’s the ultimate anti-writer. However, he is always on the lookout for the mail carrier so that he can get hold of your letters first.

Long final kiss (buuuuuuuuuuuu…ssi),

Mutti

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First of all, notice how this letter is virtually illegible – the paper is thin and delicate. Helene has typed on both sides of the page with no paragraph breaks to save on postage.

Harry would periodically send “illustrated letters” to the family. He was a talented cartoonist, able to give a sense of a person or place in just a few pen strokes. Unfortunately, we only have a single example of one of these letters which he sent from Istanbul in 1939 — we will see it later in the year. I wonder whether some of them didn’t survive the censors which meant that fewer of his letters arrived in Vienna, while many more arrived from Eva. On the other hand, Eva was by far the more reliable correspondent.

In a letter filled with affection and humor, Helene still conveys her and Vitali’s discomfort - the lack and quality of food (Hilda’s dog Mouffle eats better) and the cold (the trees are still bare and she’s wearing two pairs of stockings).

It’s interesting to see what they learned of California – mostly through westerns and newsreels. I wonder what news they heard that made her anxious about San Francisco?

My husband mentioned to me recently that he was surprised that by the absence of Vitali in the many letters we have. Although Helene mentions Vitali often, it is extremely rare to see his writing. Today we have our answer — Vitali was a poor correspondent. He could be relied upon to mail and fetch letters, but he left the writing to his wife.

March 5

In addition to the letter we see today, I posted earlier about a letter Helene wrote on March 5, 1941 relating a lovely memory about playing a “Name That Tune” type game with her children. In that same letter she explains that they cannot send the Gablonz pieces they described in the letter posted on March 3. In today’s letter from March 4 and 5, 1940 we learn of another game they played.

Vienna, 4 March 1940

My beloved children!

The next premiere in the Burgtheater is something entitled “136 Days” because that’s how long Harry’s letter of 21 October took to get here. Even though it was really late we were really happy to get it because we found out more details about your trip and the impressions you’ve had and how you were received. We are doing much the same as you are: we live with you and among you in our thoughts so we often find in your letters the proof of the way we’ve been feeling. It’s been 5 months since we took you to the train station and it’s unbelievable how fast time has passed although there’s days that never seem to end. Especially those when my imagination leads me somewhere. Yesterday was pretty much a day like that. I could have sworn we would be getting letters. I might have gotten it yesterday if it hadn’t been Sunday. We spent the day with a game that was the latest things a couple of years ago. This very successful game was invented by Harry L Lowell and it goes like this: You hide something behind your back and say “What do I have in my hand?” And you say “Retina 2” and you do this until it drives the other person crazy. Papa played this yesterday and as often as I thought I’d guessed it, he said “no”. This is the way we spend an English Sunday as at a church festival. I am curious which crazy ideas we’re going to end up with next Sunday.

5 March 1940

Harry just got an order to appear today at 11 at Seitenstettengasse 2-4, Room 27. It will be noticeable if he does not show up. After I told you of the experience of the day, waiting for the mail wasn’t really worth it. So I will not take my anger out on you. The sun is shining and I will take care of some various details because I can imagine we shouldn’t let sunny days go unused. So that’s the end of my 19th Clipper letter. Will have more next time.

10000000000000000000000000 Kisses,
Helene

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Helene refers to a letter they just received that Harry had written on October 21, just 6 days after Eva and Harry’s arrival in the U.S. They probably wrote about visiting both the 1939 NY world’s fair and the Golden Gate International Exposition on Treasure Island. Imagine being introduced to life in America that way!

Here are photos of souvenir coins Harry saved from those visits:

 Here are photos Harry took from the ferry to Treasure Island and of acrobats at the fair:

Although I don’t have a copy of the letters Eva and Harry wrote to Helene and Vitali, I have one that Eva wrote to Paul Zerzawy while he was in New York telling him about their safe arrival in San Francisco. He met them upon arrival in New York and made sure they got on a train. An earlier post includes excerpts of this letter with Eva’s first impressions of San Francisco.