June 26

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This is a copy of a letter from Eva and Harry to the American Consulate General. I assume it was written by Eva — her English is fairly good, but not as fluent as it would become.

 Istanbul 26 June 1939

EVA & HARRY KOHEN
            From Vienna III Seidlgasse 25
at present living in Istanbul Sisli Bomonti Sagdic Sokak 14

            To the American Consul General       in         Istanbul

“Concerns the emigration of the above-mentioned Eva and Harry Kohen to the U.S.A.”

We recently received from the American consul General in Vienna a summons to the physical inquiry for July 20th 1939. We are enregistered on June 7th 1938 with the German Quota 28475-76

As we are at present in Turkey and do not want to return to Vienna, we beg you to communicate to the American Consulate in Vienna in order to get the permission that the physical inquiry should take place at the American Consulate in Istanbul and that you should be authorized to give out the visum.

We beg you to write as quick as possible to Vienna, as the physical inquiry must take place on July 20th 1939, otherwise it is possible that our emigration to the U.S.A. would be much delayed.

Please write us before long, to the above-mentioned address if it is possible to get here the visa.

Awaiting your quickest answer we remain, yours sincerely

---

Apple maps took me to Sağdıç Sk. No:14 in Istanbul:

The German quota appears to refer to US immigration quotas for Germany and Austria. It looks like Eva and Harry had visa numbers #28475 and 28476. According to the USHMM, only 27,370 visas were available, so they must have been added from the waiting list.

We see again the number of hoops there were to jump to escape an awful situation when no one wants you – neither the country or countries (both Austria/Germany and Turkey) eager to see you go (but perhaps more eager to torture you), nor your desired destination. Unlike their parents, Eva and Harry’s story had a happy ending.

June 24

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A letter from Helene in Vienna to her children in San Francisco.

Vienna, 24 June 1941

My dear ones! It’s unbelievably long the way the time passes by when my head and heart have nothing else to do except wait for letters from you or wait for the American visa. One would have to be a centipede, or really a millipede, to do all the errands that we have to do. We have put most of our possessions that we still have around into our suitcases and we have only left behind the necessary items such as hand towels and dishes and clothing in order to be able to at the very last minute put ourselves together and get to you. For weeks the containers with our travel effects have been looking at us rather suspiciously and when I dust them every day, I feel like I should excuse myself to them and to assure them that it is not our fault that they have to be penned up together in this heat and wait for the last moment in which we will be freed. A Faustian wish takes me over and when I see you, I will say “stay awhile, you are so beautiful.” This is the nth time that Papa has been to the shipping company and asked about our luggage. Achter is the name of the company that will be taking our order. Paul’s move was like a game of tag compared to ours, and probably the effect will be the same. The few objects which I would like to have there and which would make it easier for me to believe that we were setting up house there, I hope that these will arrive. Sentimentality was never my weakness. It would me most desirable to me to take just a minimum of hand luggage onto a plane and have ourselves transported through the skies to you. But since we live in abnormal times, the luxury of going with just a toothbrush and pajamas is something we cannot allow ourselves. We don’t know how long we’ll be traveling. I don’t really have anything new to tell you today except that the lack of mail is tearing an insurmountable hole in the power of my imagination (the only thing that I really have). When I think about you, I don’t even think of you in diary form anymore, but in contextless unorganized thoughts. And despite the troubles I go through to imagine what you are doing I just can’t seem to do it. From this collection of thoughts, it seems like dark and amber colored eyes are looking at me, those eyes that I love so much and that I will love forever. Little 2-year old Ebi once looked at the starry sky with Pepperl and she was fascinated. “Look Peppal, Ebi’s eyes are going for a walk up there. Do you see them shining?” I see your eyes shining when I look out the window at night and I send you my blessings telepathically. The longest day of the year has passed, and I hope we are soon coming to the most beautiful day of the year, the one in which I will be taking you into my arms, and not just in my thoughts.

With my most sincere greetings and kisses, I remain your
Helen

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Helene never fails to come up with new nicknames and endearments. We’ve seen Ebi, her nickname for Eva, in a few earlier stories about her young daughter. And in this letter we have two sweet names for Papa – Pepperl and Peppal.

Again, Helene quotes Faust – according to Wikipedia, the quotation is from Part I when Faust is making a deal with Mephistopheles: “Werd ich zum Augenblicke sagen: Verweile doch! Du bist so schön!“ – “Tarry a while! You are so fair!”

At this point Helene feels that like Faust, she is making a pact with the devil in order to be reunited with her children. In the end, she was trapped for years in Vienna, was sent to Ravensbrück, and never saw her husband again. She paid a high price indeed.

June 19

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Over the past few weeks we have seen letters from Helene talking about her and Vitali’s anticipated departure from Europe on the ship Ciudad de Sevilla – see posts from May 29 and June 13. The saga continues in today’s letter to her children Eva and Harry.

 Vienna, 19 June 1941

My dear children! The obstacle course is not over yet. We have everything except the visas. Since the American consulate general is closed this month from the 15-30th, we cannot apply for the transit visa for Spain and Portugal until we have the American one. Originally, we were supposed to leave Europe on the Ciudad de Sevilla on July 15, but I can’t imagine that that will be possible since our passports will have to be sent to Berlin to get transit visas issued.

Vitali cannot understand that my dark mood is still continuing, even though we are so close to our goal. I am inconsolable because except for your two letters from the beginning of May, I have heard nothing from you. Although I am very busy with my travel preparations, the thought of what you are probably doing doesn’t leave me for a moment and the 14 days in which the consulate is on vacation seem unending to me.

Our store is no longer in our possession since the 15th of this month. However, Papa is still going there for an hour or two every day as long as we’re here. The new business will not open until the fall, so Vitali can continue to do his “stressful work” from 1200-1300 and from 1700-1800.

There is really nothing new to tell you. I hope that we will soon receive the summons for the doctor’s exam soon – i.e., soon after the opening of the holy doors of your consulate so that the sending and returning of our passports can happen in good time and we will still catch the small family rowboat. We are trying to send our luggage ahead and we are waiting every hour for permission from customs. We are weighing our hand luggage every day and hoping and hoping that it will become lighter by the time we leave.

I would love to know if you have gotten letters from us. Papa sings Manon while he is shaving – that is, my trained ear is hearing what he is trying to sing. He is in a good mood. He sometimes bellows out “He hombre” and when I look up in horror, he says, “oh that will be a great hurry when I call Harry that from the train station.” Well, it’s more than just a rush for me – it’s the fulfillment of the goal of my life -- I am so looking forward to it, but it’s more than singing He hombre can express. Cross your fingers, my little bunnies, that the last stage of our waiting is not delayed longer by any circumstances. I am dying to see you and hold you in my arms. The greatest happiness is waiting for us, although it is a leap into the unknown as far as the possibility of our existence, but Papa just laughs away my concerns about this.

Please greet all the dear ones and friends from us and cross your fingers, cross your fingers. I kiss you, I am yours, and I am still waiting so fervently for you

Helen

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I often felt that my mother didn’t feel loved and appreciated for who she was. Eva was a strong, independent, intelligent, and often stubborn woman who had to grow up very quickly. In her 20s she found herself more in the role of parent than child while helping her mother make her way to San Francisco and settle here. When Eva and Harry came over, she never felt wanted – the story she told me was that young Harry had so charmed the American relatives when they visited Vienna in the 1930s that when it was clear things were heating up in Europe, they wrote to Helene and encouraged her to send him to be safe in their care. Helene would only send Harry if Eva went with him, and Eva felt that she was unwanted and barely tolerated. I don’t think she ever outgrew that feeling. These letters from Helene are so loving, warm, and witty – I hope that Eva believed her mother’s words and that they made her feel loved and valued, if only for a little while.

June 13

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Vienna, 13 June 1941

My children, dear Paul, and all of my dear ones!

On the 15 of July we are leaving with the Ciudad de Sevilla Europe by way of Lisbon. It would be appropriate for me to express our delight in a very exuberant way and to thank all of those who have helped us to achieve this in a very well written speech. But that doesn’t work today because of all the excitement (last week our departure was still very much in question) and the exhaustion – we are getting up about 4:15am and Papa often had to be at some office by 7am – so I am tired and I am no good for any mental work. I am just amazed at Vitali’s vitality! With him, it is a “nomen omen” [omen est nomen - the name is a sign]. But when we are out there on board the Seviglia, I will drink manzanilla with Carmen and dance the seguidilla out of delight that I will be with you soon. Our horses have been saddled and we’re just waiting for the shipper to pick up our things and take them to the Portuguese “stall.” He let you know yesterday by telegram about our order and we hope that the telegram came through without any difficulty. For this reason, we want to get an answer by telegram. We will, if everything goes well, leave a few days early for Lisbon, because the train trip in today’s current conditions will take about 5-7 days. We are thinking of leaving Vienna 8-10 days before our rowboat departs from Lisbon. What do you think about that? We are taking the de Seviglia. Lisette will be surprised when she hears about that. 

Today we really thought we would get our passports issued and while Papa is waiting in Prinz Eugenstrasse [the Turkish embassy] and taking care of the agenda items that are still missing. Then came a card which said that we would also need a certification from the Employment Office to certify that this office has no objection to our departure. One more day of delay, but that’s all right. We still have enough time, even if there are a few more things that stand in our way.

On the 15 of June, the Stubenring will not see us anymore except as visitors. Papa will never have such great work hours again as he has been able to arrange here. Which are from about 11am to 1pm and 5-6pm. I must admit that Papa has been very strict about the closing time. One minute after this time, he was already long gone. The miracle of the Stubenring. All the other shopkeepers admired him.

Our acacia trees on Kopalplatz are really blooming a lot and I can feel their fragrance when I stand by the window at night. Even if there is quiet above all tree tops, I feel their whisper.

Trrrrrrrrrrr [imitating a phone ringing] - it was Papa - he called me to let me know that he had taken care of the matter with the employment office and that I should be ready by 2pm to receive my passport. It all seems like a dream to me and I take care of business like a well-oiled machine. I have a feeling as one often does in a dream - when you dream something that you wish for but to still stay in touch with reality a little bit and say, “well, it is just a dream.” Dreams were my El Dorado in the last few weeks because through dreams I was with you. Soon, in order to speak with you I will not have to dream burlesques anymore.

It is time to finish making the food and I will have to get my ticket for the great big confusion which is known as “Vitali and Helene Cohen’s trip to heaven.” I am starting to reflect and to feel that I am awake and that I am not just some fool who is being duped by her wishes. I run around, I walk, I hurry to receive my happiness document. No matter what I do, the ship will not leave a moment earlier, but I will be cheering: “I have a passport, my own passport!” At night I will put it under my pillow and dream about you again.

On Monday, Papa will find out if he can take his work with him or not. Even in the most unfortunate case Papa promised me we will leave and we will leave his work behind, even though he really doesn’t want to. O n  T i m e! He has, as usual, been proven right. On time! Punctual! A nice word. Don’t you think so?

We are still being boycotted by the post and we haven’t received anything from you. You will have to make it up to me.

Kissssssssssses

Helen

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A few observations:

In her greeting to her family, Helene acknowledges that her letters are being shared with all the relatives.

Helene alluded to their upcoming visit to Spain in the May 29 post.

Lisette was a young relative of Vitali’s (perhaps his niece) in Istanbul (see letter in May 11 post). Her last name was something like de Sevilla – I assume her mother’s married name.

I looked up Kopalplatz, which no longer exists. It is now known as Oskar-Kokoschka-Platz and was quite near Helene and Vitali’s shop on the Stubenring and about a half-mile from their home on Seidlgasse. I suppose it’s possible the fragrance of the acacias wafted that far on a summer night.

As is so often the case, Helene alludes to Goethe in this letter. When she writes of the acacia trees, she uses a pun to reference a Goethe poem  – über allen Gipfeln; Gipfel = mountaintop; Wipfel = treetop]. You can hear a version of Schubert’s version of the Goethe poem here.

As they prepare to leave and it is looking likely that they will succeed, ever more hurdles are put in their way: Vitali haunts the Turkish consulate daily, rules on what they are allowed to take with them change constantly, new bureaucratic requirements pop up to obstruct their progress.

There is one word in my grandmother’s letter that I had trouble finding a translation for: “Remasouri”. Roslyn translated it as confusion or mess, but I wanted to see if there was any other possible reference or translation. The only thing I could find with was “remasuri” which is the name of a German language card in the science fiction role-playing card deck “Magic: the Gathering.” Often the ideas and words in modern games come from classical references, so I’m guessing that the card name came from some arcane source. Given Vitali’s mystical and metaphysical profession and the tone of Helene’s letter — our two heroes on a years-long adventure with obstacles to overcome but appearing to be reaching the end of their quest — the cards with magic, wizards and dragons seemed absolutely appropriate.

June 10

Helene sends the following brief note to let her children Eva and Harry know they are never out of her thoughts.

 Vienna, 10 June 1941

My dear children! This week also has passed by without having received any letters from you. Papa is working like crazy to arrange our departure and all of our matters more quickly. You will have no idea of the difficulties which we have had to overcome. Yes, it is no pleasure to travel during time of war. The pleasure will not come until we can take you into our arms again. We had such a stressful day yesterday that I have very little time for writing today and I am also very tired. The purpose of the few lines today is just to allow for no interruption in our correspondence and to let you know that we are doing well. As far as our matters are concerned, nothing has changed since the last letter. It is possible that there will be more to report in the next few days.

For today, just lots and lots of kisses to you and all the loved ones

Helen

---

As Helene writes this letter, Harry is preparing to graduate from Washington High School

June 7

Today we have a letter from Helene to her nephew Paul Zerzawy in San Francisco.

Vienna 7 June 1940

Dear Paul!

You should not without punishment have given me your private address. I will be using it an awful lot, but you will be disappointed because the content of my letters will not please you. I knew that you were able to evaluate my confused letters correctly, and that the children would understand my letters only literally and not read too much into them. Their departure was delayed far too long for me to have no real reason to believe that their young souls might have been damaged by this. There are experiences that one cannot erase from one’s memory. Sometimes they slip into a secret compartment of the brain and then something makes them reappear. The longer the unpleasant memories stay in the brain safe, the better it is for the young minds. So if my letters are perceived and understood by the children in the way that you have described to me, my intention to leave them carefree has been completely successful. As far as your guilty conscience, you should just take some valerian and don’t take things so hard. You have already known about our attitude and our tribulations of life for a while. I went through the school of hard knocks, so I sort of take things quietly the way they come. Now you should not overemphasize the value of things any more than you can that of people. What does it matter when we’ve had to sell our bedroom? We can sleep just as well on a field bed that’s been lent to us and our digestion will not suffer if we no longer have a dining room. I would however have wished that we could have brought our grand piano. Since you three aren’t using it anymore, it sort of turned my former joy into the opposite, but that’s just a matter of mood and one should not be caught up in these waves. My desire to see you again is so vehement that I am determined that our departure will happen soon even though there is not even the slightest reason to think so. Father has his “one gets everything in life which he wishes for intensely.” He always insists that that’s the way it is, even though it doesn’t necessarily happen at the time you want. Whenever that time will happen, it will certainly make me happy. You should not worry about our pecuniary situation. Certainly, neither Vitali nor I have any way of earning any money, but the little that we need to live on we are managing to come up with by selling off the last few items we have in the business and the larger expenses such as taxes and interest are going to be taken care of by selling our furniture. I have already written you once that the Druseidt [?] have found someone to buy their business. Help, such as material help from relatives, I would only want to accept in the most desperate of situations - maybe to help us emigrate, but who knows when that will be. Tomorrow there are new regulations for post with neutral foreign countries. Illegible letters will not be sent so they should be written on a typewriter wherever possible and not be longer than four pages.

I am glad that you are doing well and that you and the children are in such contact. I couldn’t have imagined that in my wildest dreams. Nor could I imagine that you would have gotten used to it so quickly. Please write as soon as you can and think about the fact that the letters have to go a long way and often arrive late and sometimes not at all. 14 days without mail I’ve had just now again. A long time when one is as hungry for news as I am.

See you Paul and prove that you are thinking of us by writing a few letters even if it’s just something you add to the children’s letters.

In love that knows no bounds

Your
Helen

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Helene’s first few lines are interesting when considering Harry’s illustrated newsletter from 1939 that was posted yesterday. Harry’s tone was light and hopeful, an excited teenager enjoying the adventure and possibility of being in a new place. Helene makes clear that she and Vitali have done everything they could to shield their children from the worst of her worries. I don’t know how successful she was, but the Harry and Eva at least put up a brave face in their letters to her.

This letter was written in 1940 and already they have little way of making money. They are selling their furniture and hoping to leave for America soon. It’s hard to imagine what they lived on in Vienna for the next three and a half years. It must have been such a relief to Helene that her nephew Paul was in San Francisco and could keep an eye on his young cousins.

June 6

Today we have a treasure from Harry, an “Illustrated News Monthly” dated June 7, 1939 from Istanbul. Helene mentions receiving one of his illustrated letters in her letter of March 8 1940. This is the only example I have of these letters. Perhaps inspired by his mother’s love of language, her father’s newspaper, and his own cartooning ability, it seems that Harry sent these to relatives on a somewhat regular basis.

Harry labels this as the “New York Edition” so he must have sent it to Helene’s nephew’s Paul Zerzawy who had arrived in the U.S. in April of 1939 and was trying to find work and make a life in New York.

Harry packs in a huge amount of information and sense of place in two brief pages. 15-year old Harry includes 2 self-portraits showing how much he’s changed in a few short months, growing both leaner (from walking constantly around Istanbul) and taller. He gives a travelogue including “photos” of the sights and teaches some Turkish language. His humor and sense of fun shine throughout. 

Below are three photos taken several months apart. The first is his first Turkish passport photo to enter Istanbul, I believe the second is his passport photo from the summer, August and the third was taken on board the S.S. Rex in October 1939 as he and Eva made their way to the U.S.

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June 5

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Today we have a letter from soldier Harry Lowell to his sister Eva Goldsmith in San Francisco.

 Philippines
June 3, 1945

Dear Sis,

I am writing this letter from a little restaurant near town. I have chosen this spot because I don’t want to be disturbed or influenced by the monotony of my usual army environment. Here it goes – a letter from your escapist brother. 

First of all I’d better apologize again for my laxness. To come to think of it, I haven’t even congratulated you on your marriage and, believe me, I have begun to consider myself an inconsiderate, heartless scoundrel of the highest caliber. On May 5 I suddenly remembered your birthday but could do nothing about it, save be with you in thought. I am trying to convince you that I have not forgotten you or anybody else even if I hadn’t written for some time. In my spare time I turn philosopher and as such cannot force myself to sit down and write letters. I appeal to your good heart again and ask your forgiveness. Granted? Thank you. (I don’t imagine your husband has a high opinion of me; I leave it to you to tell him that I am not as bad as I seem to be – oh yeah?) So much for that.

I guess you know how I felt when I received Tillie’s telegram; from it I perceived that all was well. I thought so until I found out from one of your letters that all wasn’t as well as it should be. I trust that all is well now. My mind is full of plans for the future and I can hardly wait for the day of our reunion. It has been a long time. 

I know you are doing all you can and I feel helpless over here. As far as ever getting a furlough is concerned, I may as well forget all about it. No way. Another close friend of mine in my unit applied for an emergency leave because his mother had been given only a few months to live. After one month of red tape he received a negative reply signed by some second lieutenant in supreme headquarters. You can see how easy it is to get home; count me out for another two years. (For your information, I have only 54 points as of today.) I have submitted myself to fate. C’est la guerre et c’est la vie!

Well, I might as well tell you about our odyssey. We left New Guinea in an overloaded Liberty and roamed the sea for over thirty days; the journey was spiced with rumors, plenty of cussing, and poker games.

I have seen quite a bit of Manila and found nothing but debris; from the looks of the ruins, Manila must have been a pretty city at one time. Many towns have been burnt to the ground; passing through these places the first time I felt a feeling of guilt for being a member of civilization that has permitted wars to cause such destruction. America is lucky not to feel the immediate blows of war. 

I hope the world will wake up this time and prevent wars in the future. Some people say that wars cannot be prevented and that there will always be wars (according to the Bible). I still maintain that wars can be prevented; that is our problem from now on. (I am still the unshakeable idealist.) I haven’t read any of your opinions on the subject in your letters lately. I’d better cut short my idealistic doubletalk and proceed with the description of my travels. Passing through a lot of towns our little convoy was greeted by all junior members of the population. Their battle cry was “Victory, Joe”; variations of that battle cry are: “H’llo Joe, gimme a cigarette; Victory Joe, chewing gum, chocolate;” etc. Some of these kids are quite cute and I always grow softhearted and play Santa Claus giving my candy rations away.….

I am getting my fill of bananas, pineapples, mangoes, and other tropical fruit which are not known in the states. In spite of all these tropical delicacies, I’d still settle for a T-bone steak and a baked potato (and apple pie, maybe).

Incidentally, how has married life affected your cooking? Don’t be surprised if I barge in on you one of these years and I won’t want to be disappointed then. You know my preferences; and don’t forget that gallon of milk!

Well old girl, that is enough for today. Give my best regards to all and announce to everybody that I have emerged from my epistolary hibernation and that I will start a new season of vigorous correspondence. Amen.

Love,
Harry

P.S. Tell your spouse that I think, he should have taken me in consideration before he married you. Or does he believe in taking the bad with the good?

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A lot has happened in 1945 while Harry was serving in the South Pacific. His sister got married on his birthday in January. A few months later, they learned that their mother had been released from Ravensbrück and was now in Istanbul and needed financial assistance to join her family in California. In the May 17 post, we saw that Harry gave Eva power of attorney and access to money to help. He feels powerless so far away and sees no likelihood of getting home soon. He mentions having 54 points. According to an article on the National WWII Museum in New Orleans website, a soldier needed 85 points to be allowed to return home.

Harry describes his journey from New Guinea to the Philippines on a Liberty Ship. One of the last remaining Liberty Ships, the Jeremiah O’Brien, is docked at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco.

As I read Harry’s description of the ruins of Manila, I wonder how much he was thinking of how his own home in Vienna had been affected by the war. No wonder he was so empathetic.

June 4

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This letter to Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy must have been sent with the letter we saw yesterday that she wrote to her children. They both have the same Clipper number 103. She tells much of the same story but in a different tone. As Helene sees the end in sight and a family reunion in San Francisco seems likely and imminent, she takes a “farewell tour” of her beloved Vienna. Click on the links below to join her on the tour.

Vienna, 3 June 1941

Dear Paul! Thank you, a thousand thanks for your telegram of May 31. You should not believe that I have been writing alarm letters to you when something doesn’t go the way I want. You know me better than that. But when I wrote you that letter which you answered with the cable, our situation was worse than bad and the information that we had gotten from the religious community and from Prinz Eugenstrasse [likely the Turkish Embassy which is currently at Prinz Eugen Strasse 40] were more than hopeless. In the meantime, you will have received my letter from May 13 in which I was so joyous and which I told you there had been an amazing turn in our situation, as far as our possibility of leaving goes. That the American consulate had broken its silence and had let us know that everything was all right and mention that our matter is proceeding normally. It is happening too slowly for us which is understandable, but I believe that it is the last phase of our obstacle course but we will win the derby.

Yesterday, we began making visits to say good-bye. We went to the Lusthaus and went down the Hauptallee, which still has floral candles as decoration. We walked by foot to the Praterstern. We went down the middle of the street since we wanted to have the most incomparably beautiful view of the Tegetthoff monument in front of us and we had the view of the Lusthaus behind us and from time to time I turned around to get the panoramic effect. Individual cars containing Firmling [Catholic children becoming confirmed] were decorated with flowers were going to the Lusthaus, but otherwise it was just the usual hustle and bustle that you find on Pentecost Monday. I said I really wanted to take a trip on the Riesenrad [ferris wheel] and see the Prater and the Viennese surroundings in this way. I remembered enjoying the sight with you for the first time. I went to the places that my children enjoyed so much before. I said good-bye to the Prater, and I also want to see Schönbrunn, and Kahlenberg  and Cobenzl still remain, and I plan to spend next Sunday doing that. The rest of the time is busy with all sorts of preparations. It takes an awful lot of time and nerve. There was an interruption caused by the Pentecost holidays and hopefully we will make up for that and we hope that the errands we need to do as far as the paperwork that will come from Berlin - we hope that will arrive. Then it’s a matter of getting up on our feet and running, flying. The days are getting longer and one can convince oneself that everything is going more quickly and more easily. This week there is a very important matter to take care of, but I will tell you more about that when I’ve got the problem solved.

I no longer ask how you’re doing, what you’re doing or what you hear from Robert. For one thing I never get any answer from you and for another I hope to get these answers myself in person, as Vitali has advised me when I was so long without any news and kept whining.

Farewell Paul, and do expect to receive us soon.

My greetings to the Zentners, Schillers, Firestones, and to Erwin Fulda, for whom I’ve only made trouble so far, even though all that he knows about me is that I exist.

My dearest hugs to you

Helen

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June 3

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Vienna, 3 June 1941  

My dear children!

Since you have been away from us, two-day holidays are a thorn in my eye. Even though I can’t say that they are stealing your letters from me, they are certainly guilty of making them quite delayed.

Yesterday my anxiety drove me to the pleasures of the Prater. As long as one looked up at the sky, it was a lovely view, but I could see ancestors, grandmother, mother and child, not dressed, but on the meadow. The Wurstl prater [amusement park part of Prater park] has changed its appearance. Several new places of merriment have been constructed, which I really wasn’t all that interested in. I was only interested in those carousels that used to be so much fun for you. At the Eisvogel [restaurant in the Prater], I wanted to buy a balloon to give it to a child in our building, but they wanted 4 RM. That was too much for me and I suppressed my maternal instincts. Yes, if it had been for Eva-child or Harry-boy I would have gone for it. Papa invited me to go to a restaurant, the one where we had eaten on the last Pentecost holiday. But I decided I didn’t want to, I said no, and we went home.

Today Papa is busy trying to give our matter a nudge, but I don’t really expect any success with this because we can’t do anything of any real meaning since we have some documents that are not here yet from Berlin. It seems like every day there’s a new edict which changes all of the preparations we’d made before. Yesterday, they said that we could take 50kg/person into the train compartment, today they say it’s 30kg. And when you consider the tare weight - our cases weigh about 2-8kg - you can imagine how hard it is to choose what to pack first. It’s clear that all the things which have the smallest value for us must be left behind in favor of those which we will really need. We pack it all in there, we take it all out again. Of course, we have differences of opinion - Papa always thinks something else is important from what I think and he doesn’t want to get rid of any of his winter clothing. But those are just symptoms of travel fever. When we hear the call: “San Francisco, all aboard,” we will even leave our hand luggage there and get on the train. Packing is just sort of a way of distracting us to make the waiting seem shorter.

See you later my little bunnies. I hug you kissing

Helen

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This letter to Eva and Harry is filled with nostalgia, hope and longing — yet fear that things might not work out looms large.

As time goes by, like Helene I find myself walking streets that I’ve walked thousands of times and feeling the presence of people who are no longer there. Layers of the past overshadow what I see in front of me.

We see more of the cruel bureaucracy taunting Helene and Vitali as they plan to leave. Like their lives in Vienna which have become ever more constricted over the past few years, their luggage allowance shrinks each time they think they have a plan.

June 1

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Early Years/High school in San Francisco

When Eva and Harry came to San Francisco, they each were sent to live with a different relative and attended different high schools. They saw each other on weekends, sometimes at family dinners at Tillie’s home. I don’t know why the decision was made to split them up. It always seemed heartbreaking to me that no sooner were they separated from their parents than they were separated from each other. Perhaps it was because of space or economics, or perhaps the relatives thought they would adjust to speaking English and living in another country if they didn’t have each other to lean on.

Eva lived with Helene’s first cousin Bertha and her husband George Schiller. They were in their late 60s while Eva was a senior at Washington High School. At this time, the Schillers’ son Arthur was almost 40 years old and living in New York. Not only would Eva have experienced culture shock, but a large generation gap as well!

Harry was sent to live with Helene’s first cousin’s daughter Hilda and her husband Nathan Firestone. Since he was under 18 years old, he was considered their ward. Hilda was just 35 years old and Nathan was 50, so he was living with people younger than his parents. Harry attended Mission High School.

Eva graduated from Washington High in June 1940 and Harry from Mission High in June 1941. Although she was already 18 years old, Eva hadn’t graduated from high school in Vienna (for their last few years in Vienna, they were not allowed to attend school) and she needed to complete a year of high school in the U.S. to earn a diploma. Harry must have placed into a higher grade than usual for his age, because he graduated from high school a year later at the age of 17.

I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but to me Eva looks very different in her high school photo from her American classmates. Most of their faces seem happier and more carefree, while she seems very severe. Her dark blouse adds to her seriousness.

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 During his first year at Mission High, Harry was interviewed for the school paper:

Eva and Harry playing tennis on the courts at Mission High in 1941:

May 30

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Today’s letter from Helene in Vienna to her nephew Paul Zerzawy is from May 30, 1939, several weeks after his arrival in America. Her children Eva and Harry are in Istanbul establishing citizenship to be able to get Turkish passports to emigrate; Helene is experiencing her first relatively brief separation from her children.

Vienna, 30 May 1939

My dear Paul! We got your letter from the 9th and started right away to acquire the brochures you asked for. We enclose those which we could get here from Breitkopf & Härtel [musical publishing house]. And we could get some from Frieda Benninghoven [another publisher?]. Some of them will take longer to get to us because of Pentecost. The Pentecost hustle and bustle means that getting a letter from Hanover to Vienna takes 2-1/2 days. Unbelievable. At the same time, I asked Jo to get me some English brochures from Piscarer [sp? London publisher?] to send. Maybe these will be of some advantage to you as well. As soon as I get something, I will send it right to you. In the “estate” you left behind I didn’t really find anything. Vitali prepared a list and in the notes I have enclosed you will find such things from the possessions of the Cohen children. A part of this may have been your stuff. There is a considerable amount of song and music [also refers to title of an old march Mit Sang und Klang ] and precious gems (really more like gravel). You’ll find that too.

The biggest surprise is that the children have been in Istanbul for five weeks. And they are doing well in making progress in French, Turkish, and Spanish. But you probably already know that from my earlier letters.

Our life is rushing back and forth without any pause and we are now trying to make the impossible possible and trying to get to the children soon. Our little ship had a leak in the helm, but we hope that you know how optimistic we are that it will be possible for us to plug this leak and get back to our preparations to go home.

I thank you for all the trouble you’ve gone to about hurrying up our entry visa. It was certainly well intended but actually it served no purpose, as we have Tillie who is keeping us apprised of things and the documents that we have sent to you.

I’m including some copies of the first letters we’ve gotten from the children and the later ones I will make copies of those too if you tell me you are interested.

Eva is already earning some pocket money by making flowers. She would probably get a lot more customers if she knew Turkish. And she tells me in the letter that she regrets that you did not go to Istanbul too because lawyers get rich there - there are so few of them. I however am glad that a great big body of water is separating you from us.

I am dumbfounded by the practical nature of my children. Eva writes today for the first time that she quite likes it there, that she has gotten used to it, and if it had to be, she could perhaps for financial independence stay in Istanbul. That is really not what I had in mind, but we can’t really do anything from here.

I am unhappy that my goal to have my children in my sight is not possible and I feel powerless here. The last few necessary steps are the ones I cannot take. When the children were here, we were strongly handicapped and now we really haven’t come much farther. Uncle seems to pull the strings at the highest level, but bureaucrats are the same everywhere. We would probably need to hide the key for the bathroom up higher.

You can hardly imagine a more useless existence than what we lead here. We take care of our cadaver and we try to damage as little as possible so that we will survive the trip.

Vitali went to see Marie yesterday. Both women are healthy and they are waiting. We are all waiting. There is nothing to do but wait here. It is our new profession. I have turned into a typewriter.

My types are all worn out but as long as I am in Vienna, I must take advantage of it. In the train from Vienna to Istanbul, Vitali’s portable radio will work.

I haven’t heard anything from Paula Beckhor in 8 days, but usually we call each other and she comes over quite often.

Paula F. is going to “see” her four children today. I am reading through your letter and I see that at one point I touched upon your wishes. My thoughts are jumping around. The thoughts are ripe and excuse my absent-mindedness. I could never have imagined that a person who doesn’t really have a career could be under pressure.

But you know the “road to Canossa,” where it’s necessary to do that to make progress to get away from here.  

Of your things, I have all of your notes, I have books, notebooks, and documents, and pictures. The other things I did get rid of. I did burn some correspondence and newspapers, postcards; in other words, things I instinctively knew were just a burden.

I did consider the possibility of sending things by post, but I just need a few more days until I could get done with the burden of my taxes. Poor Schiller, he would have to be turning over in his grave if he read this letter, not just because I quote him incorrectly.

The children know about your situation, because I send them copies of your letters and those from Robert as well. Unfortunately, I have not heard from Robert for 14 days now, so I sent Vitali to … I am writing to them pretty often so I hope to get answers soon.

Please do greet the Schillers for me and don’t let me wait too long for news because I have not found my way to the fate of Penelope, and now I realize my old sins of omission and I could just cry at the thought that I did something to the people who matter the most to me, that the weakness of my will may have unintentionally tortured them. Today I can’t really make it right again because the waiting is all we do. We have to wait for a fair, but possibly harsh punishment.

The best to you Paul. Begin your new life in the new world with just as much optimism as you had pessimism in the old world. Keep your head high, whatever happens.

You will hear from me soon and I don’t expect an answer, because otherwise there will be pauses. Somehow it seems to know no bounds.

With many kisses, I am

Your old
Helen

Frieda just brought over some more catalogs. Continuation to follow.

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It appears that mail was very fickle. Sometimes it took months or never arrived at all. This letter was written on May 30, 1939 and was received by Paul Zerzawy (either in San Francisco or New York) on June 6. Pretty quick even by today’s standards.

As Helene and Vitali do in 1941 as they prepare to come to America, Paul Zerzawy took little with him and left a lot of things behind.

This letter answers a question I had – how do I have letters from Eva and Harry that they sent to their parents from Istanbul to Vienna? Helene sent them to Paul Zerzawy so he would be kept up to date with what was happening and he kept them. It continues to amaze me how much information was shared across continents. We take for granted the ability to communicate far and wide with the internet, but people have always found ways to stay in touch with their loved ones, overcoming many hurdles and impediments.

My mother told me that she had learned silk flower making in Istanbul – the relatives thought that would be a good skill and that she could make a lot of money selling them. She brought the tools with her to the U.S. When I saw the Degas, Impressionism, and the Paris Millinery Trade exhibition at the Legion of Honor Museum in San Francisco in 2017, I thought of my mother. You can see examples of hats trimmed with silk flowers from the exhibition here. By 1939, in the U.S. such an occupation was not as lucrative as Eva’s relatives imagined. Probably better that she became a nurse!

Below are photos of the materials Eva brought with her, including a cardboard stencil of flower petals with the flowers’ names written in German.

May 29

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Vienna, 29 May 1941

My dear children and Paul! Well we’ve got it now. The American Consulate General has decided that the reasons we have listed are worthy of consideration and has sent us Form 20 which says that there is nothing standing in the way of our trip. Of course, we have to have all of the necessary formalities taken care of in a satisfactory manner. Papa is right now at the religious community to get some information about what they may have taken care of in our interest. We imagine that after the Pentecost holiday our matters will take a general step forward. 

You must excuse me that I keep talking just about us, but first it is the most important thing right now which is why I am telling you about every last phase of this. And secondly, my thoughts of the trip to you have not come back, so there’s a vacuum in my head. There ought to be a note stuck to my forehead: Nobody home.

We have a lot to do and Papa has even gotten up early to sort out and ponder what we really have to take with us and what, although with a heavy heart, we will have to leave behind. For days he has not managed to get his sun bath on the balcony. I suggested that he put his freckles in with the things we need to send. Or at least one, because it seems like his whole face is a freckle. He is afraid that when we get to the dress rehearsal for our packing, and if it takes any longer his beloved freckles are going to fade and he’s now thinking that he should be using the Pentecost holiday time to get a tan. We’ll see what the weather god has to say about that. My objection that the Spanish sun in July will give him enough opportunities to give his skin color a southern patina is ignored. I am curious how many degrees of fever I will get as a reaction of my pale skin because I haven’t had time to go chasing after every ray of sun, and there haven’t been that many anyway. I am thinking that might have been good to avoid getting a Spanish-Portuguese sunstroke. I haven’t had one since Cesenatico, but I am looking forward to one. The number of kilos we are allowed to take with us will give me plenty of chances to take a sun bath. While I am teasing Papa that his face is a freckle, I believe he is going to get back at me and discover that my body has become a water blister. I will stock up on Brandöl [a burn ointment] but of course I’ll only do that if our trip doesn’t get put off until the winter. I do not want to tempt fate or jinx this. I am so sure that we will be leaving soon that I can hardly imagine having to spend another winter here. Harry’s longing to stick his big toe in the snow and to flirt with the snow on his smaller toes is at this point something that I just can’t understand. Maybe I’ll get it when I’m down there. Easier for me to understand is the fear of pork roast with dumplings which are a good substitute for the Kipfler potatoes we won’t have. I am amazed that you don’t seem to have those, because as far as I can remember from my school learning, Bramburi [another word for “potatoes”] is a tuberous plant that was imported from America. Since Kipfler were unknown either in the the Altreich, I must assume that our dear good Kipfler potatoes were an Austrian specialty. But we can’t even get those in the Ostmark area. What an outrage! Where have our potatoes gone? It was just as hard for me to hear the story that one does not know the kitchen cart. I cannot really take all of my weights with me. Otherwise, I’d have to leave behind my head or some other part of my body.

Because of the stamps, I will have to end again. Take a deep breath. But a few more kisses more or less is not the issue. I will make this concession. I kiss, kiss, kiss you.

Helen

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In this letter to her children and nephew, you can hear Helene’s hope and giddiness as it seems that all the pieces are coming together and that she and Vitali will be reunited with her children in a few short months. As we will see in a future letter, they have tickets to leave on the Ciudad de Sevilla in July, thus the reference to the Spanish sun. Like in the letter posted May 27, she continues to take an inventory of belongings, trying to figure out what to take and what to leave behind.

May 27

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Today we have a letter from Helene in Vienna to Harry who is about to graduate from Mission High School in San Francisco.

Vienna, 27 May 1941

Dear boy of my heart and newspaper boy! The Lord God himself must have felt sorry for me because he saw my useless waiting for letters from you. In order to right this injustice your letters from April 30 and from May 8 from Frisco came today. The great detail in these made me even happier and my resilience - Papa hasn’t really suffered that much from not getting letters. I almost believe it increased his agility and his activity has helped him make quite a bit of progress on our matter. As soon as we receive our passports and clearance certificates [certificates of good conduct] from Berlin, there will be nothing to stand in the way of our departure. The harmlessness [?] will have happened by then. The only thing that still remains a big question mark is the statement from the American Consulate. The general consul will not issue a visa until one can show that the travel tickets have been booked, but the travel tickets are not issued until one can show a visa. So maybe Papa can figure out how to prove which came first — the egg or the chicken.

Can perhaps Mr. High School Graduate recommend some way of decreasing the specific weight of all the things that we must bring with us? I’m not too sure yet how I should do that. Should I leave all of my left shoes or all of my right shoes behind and should I present myself for my trip across the big pond as Mona Vonna when I intend to reach the holy ground of the United States? I would be very grateful to you for any advice on this. Fortunately, Papa and I have over the past few years developed sort of a common wardrobe. I wear almost exclusively his sports shirts as blouses and he enjoys wearing my trousers and my handkerchiefs - that I wear the pants at home [wear the pants in the family?] is only some sort of malicious invention of Jo’s. As far as your second aphorism goes that marriages turn into a 30 to 70 year war - I must tell you that here in Seidlgasse we are seen as a model of a married couple. Papa has never been so gallant as now, and this after we’ve been married for 21 years. Vitali by the way is commanding me to finish this up now because if I write more he will not have enough stamps to put on the envelope. Of course you will be very happy to have me stop since I am going on in this kind of tone. I hope that there will be no interruption in postal service, especially not to such an extent that I would really have to wait and pick it up myself. I would like to be able to help you deliver the newspapers.

Many, many kisses
Helen

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According to Wikipedia, La Joconde nue or Monna Vonna was a charcoal drawing from the school of Leonardo da Vinci. Other artists made similar paintings and Monna Vanna appeared in literature, music and film.

At this point, Helene and Vitali have been downsizing for over a year, thinking in vain that they were on the verge of getting on a ship for the U.S. And yet their luggage is still too heavy to meet the travel allowance.

May 26

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Today we have a letter from soldier Harry Lowell stationed in Fort Francis E. Warren in Wyoming to Julius and Tillie Zentner in San Francisco. Tillie/Matilda Zentner was Helene’s first cousin and the Zentners were instrumental in bringing Eva and Harry to the U.S. in 1939.

 May 26, 1943

Dear aunt Tillie & uncle Julius,

To begin with I want to thank you for the nice card, the excellent candy and your letter.

I have finished my basic training and have been transferred to another company and will get schooling for about eight weeks. I’ll be trained in motor mechanics and operations; I started school Monday morning, and I must say that the army has a very good way of getting the principles of mechanics into one’s head. Although it’s a super-rapid course (the mechanics training has been cut down from 15 weeks to 4 weeks) results have been very good, according to the reports from headquarters.

We get up at 5:30, exercise for an hour, and go to school. (I forgot to mention that we have breakfast before exercise, lest you think they are too hard on us). We stay in school the whole day, save a one-hour lunch period. I must say that for the short time I have attended classes, I know quite a bit about the anatomy of our army trucks. We are going to have a test tomorrow that’ll show whether or not we have digested the material that has been heaped upon us.

I just received a letter from Jules; he seems to be studying pretty hard for his final examinations. I hope he’ll like to work in Sacramento; I am afraid he’ll have to do the work of two men, so it won’t be much of a vacation for him. I received a letter from my landlady the other day; she is expecting her son from Hawaii any day now. She said that she goes to restaurants almost every day because she and her husband work different shifts and because good food is pretty high and scarce. (Is it really that bad in civilian life now/ If it is, I advise everyone to join the Army or Waacs). I’ll be happy to write to them and ask whether they’ll be able to take a gentleman boarder this summer. Unless you have made other arrangements in regards to his boarding, let me know in your next letter whether you want me to find out about it.

By Jules’ letter I see that Lucien is still the banana prince of Third Street.

What kind of packing house are you going to open in San José? I guess you won’t lose much by not sending trucks up the Lake this year.

Every week new rookies flow into the camp and trained men leave for unknown destinations. Whenever I go to town I look around for young men; the only young men are high school boys and the rest of Cheyenne’s population consists of women and ineligible men. I almost got a cramp in my arm saluting all the officers that ran around town last Sunday.

I had K.P. again last week; I washed dishes all day. Because of the soap (G.I. soap) I used, my fingers took on the shape of bananas. It took two hours and a series of vinegar baths to shrink them to their natural size again. (The G.I. soap is said to take the fuzz off a cactus, so you can imagine the potency of it.)

Well, I have to close now as I have a lot of studying to do. (Maybe I can have your business when I come back; I’ll repair your Buick without charge).

Hoping you are in the best of everything, I remain

Yours sincerely,
Harry. 

P.S. My new address is – Co. F-B228 1st QMTR.

P.P.S. Thank you also for the clipping.

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Julius was a widower with children and grandchildren when he married Tillie. He and Tillie had no children. Jules and Lucien were his grandsons. Although Harry worked for Julius’s company for awhile, he was not interested in pursuing it as a career. We learned a bit about the Levy-Zentner company in my February 9 post. Here is an excerpt from Julius Zentner’s obituary that appeared on page 20 of the January 8, 1953 issue of the San Francisco Examiner: 

…Mr Zentner, a business leader here for more than half a century, died Tuesday night in his home at 2001 California Street after several years of ill health. He would have been 89 years old next month.

BANK DIRECTOR.
Although retired from direction of his firm, he was at the time of his death a director of the Bank of America, and attended the board’s last meeting here….

Mr. Zentner came here from Europe in the early 1880’s. From a commission business that netted him $6 a week, he built an enterprise which now grosses more than $30,000,000 a year.

At the time of the 1906 earthquake, he was the president of J. Zentner & Company, with headquarters at Washington and Front Streets.

FIRMS MERGE.
A short distance away, at Washington and Davis Streets, was the rival firm of A. Levy & Company.

Surveying the ruins of their establishments after the quake and fire, Zentner and Levy decided to get together on a new establishment.

The new firm, A. Levy & J. Zentner Company, started out in March of 2907 with twenty-five employees.

Today, the firm has branches in the principal business centers of the West, ships produce throughout the East, and employs between 600 and 700 persons.  

A jovial, robust man, Mr. Zentner worked twelve to fourteen hours a day in building the firm.

“NO HOBBY BUT WORK.”
In the 1920’s, he once said:

“I have no hobby but my work. I never play golf. Neither does A.P. We don’t fancy such things.”

“A.P.” was the late A.P. Giannini, founder of the Bank of America, and one of Mr. Zentner’s closest friends.

Business associates said Mr. Zentner had what could be called a magic touch in the produce business. He knew when and what to buy. “He could scent the market,” one associate said. “His predictions were uncanny.”…

May 23

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Vienna, 23 May 1941

#100

My dear children! Since this is another anniversary letter, I would like to start this Friday ritual with a different introduction than that we still haven’t received any letters from you, but unfortunately that’s not possible. What is the silly goose dreaming of? The year 1941 had a bad harvest of corn, and geese like me should decide to dream about something else. We’ve had a dramatic pause in our matters. It would have been too good if things could have just stayed on track at the same pace. The next transport is going on July 4 and as they say, if the Lord God wills, even a broomstick can grow [a variation on a German saying - God can make impossible things happen.] Maybe he wants us to be among those who go, but in the meantime there is still a lot to do. It’s not really dependent on us, so all of our efforts are not going to help at all. Our fatalism has taught us that the stupidest thing you can do is to bang your head against the wall. All that gets you is a bump on your head on one side and damage to the wall on the other side, so nothing comes from that. My head can do without the decoration and the wall hasn’t really done anything to me so the most reasonable thing to do is to wait for Form #13 in all humility. In the meantime, it’s become summer in Vienna and a walk from Meidling to Hietzing has brought all sort of enthusiasm up in me. Papa cannot be moved into such a poetic mood as easily, and he looks at things with his sober eyes that I cluelessly ignore. It was beautiful in Schönbrunn. Everything was blooming. Chestnuts, lilacs, and tulips were shining in the most incredible colors. Clear blue sky covered this little spot of the world that looked like a paradise. With great majesty, the Gloriette towered above the carpet of flowers and like flowers which had escaped from their beds, a large number of children were darting about. In this environment I can forget the raw reality that we have to deal with. However, I didn’t have much patience for being outside so long because the “maybe the afternoon mail has brought a letter” did not leave me any peace. The possibility would have of course been possible, but there was no letter. My prayer with the rosary beads began again from the beginning. Papa says I am incurable and he says he really doesn’t understand me. Now that I have the possibility of picking up my letters myself, I cannot seem to get away from the obsession of waiting for the mail every single day.

I have some more writing to do for our matters and so I need to go now. Vitali is getting up from his sun worship and I must hurry. Greetings and kisses to all. I will answer Hilda very soon.

Kissing you and Paul most sincerely
Helen

Helene mentions that this is an anniversary letter — I assume that she is referring to her marriage to Vitali on May 18, 1920. Or is it that this is the 100th letter she has written to her children since they were separated almost 2 years earlier? At this point, Helene and Vitale are at a standstill and unable to do anything to further their cause and they have had no news from their children for awhile. In order to not think about their current difficulties, Helene takes us on a lovely springtime walk in Vienna. The walk they took was about 4 miles from their home, so they must have taken a bus or tram to get to Meidling.

It was approximately a two mile walk from Meidling to Hietzing.

May 21

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Vienna, 21 May 1941

My dear sweeties!

Since the 17th of February I have not had a letter from you. The American Consulate has not even let us know if they have received our affidavit. Not even to speak of the strange Form #13 which they should send, and we are living with the crazy idea that we will be seeing you soon.  We call that “Optimismus”, or maybe it should be Ob-die-Miss-Muß? [pun: missing the point]. Papa has already left : he is working on getting us our clearance certificate of good standing as far as taxes go. Joy is also relative. I am happy about every piece of clothing that I have decided I don’t need anymore, which has done its job and which can go away. I don’t think that in other days the acquisition of something like this would have made me so happy as now the realization that it is really not worth keeping this stocking, this shoe, or this fragment of a pajama to take with me or to get permission to take it with me. I would prefer to go on this trip like a very hopeful vagrant, but when we are over there with you, we will need some things. Customs audits were always the drop of vermouth in the glass of joy even when it was a matter of a vacation or a trip for fun, but I would be happy to take on these unpleasantries. The number of the ways and running around is legion, but sometimes one needs several days to get passage. It’s hard to believe with what calm and skill Papa has managed to get over the obstacles which are basically insurmountable and how he manages to pass the greatest difficulties with a laughing and quiet nature. Vitali is only unhappy with me because I cannot seem to get out of the habit of waiting for mail and he is jealous because he says I spend more time thinking about Jessica’s namesake [?] than I do about him. It’s ridiculous after 21 years of marriage, but when we get over there faster than we had originally hoped, then that has always helped to achieve that. But I think of you much more than about Rudolf. Last year I think at this time, Eva was getting ready for her graduation and this year it will be Harry. Or do they not have these ceremonies at his school? What wouldn’t we give to be able to be there, but unfortunately others will have to be represent us. You must describe the whole process to us in detail. Paul will certainly take pictures which will have to make up for our not being there. I have started my travel preparations in the following way: I have had a permanent, and the hairdresser and Papa were happy with the results. I wouldn’t have decided to do that so easily if Papa hadn’t threatened me that he didn’t think they’d let me into the USA with my old hairdo. Well that hit home. Without any further objections I let happen with my head what Papa and his hairdresser accomplice had in store for me. Afterwards I was even allowed to go to the movies, which I laughed very hard at, I was laughing even more that I had gotten this disastrous procedure over with than at the movie, although the movie was very funny. It was of course a rerun. Papa is very careful to keep tabs on the hairdo which is decorating my head so that I don’t destroy it and says I have to wear a scarf to bed. I am planning revenge, but I haven’t really thought of anything useful to do yet. Well, as I know you, you will certainly help me with that. At the moment I’m reading a quite obscene book: “Ladies in Hades”, by Frederic Arnold Kummer. I think I will have learned lot of slang from it by the time I leave. The way to hell is, in my opinion, less paved with good intentions as with curse words. I don’t actually appreciate of this kind of book and in German I would, not because I am a prude, not have reached for such a book, but with these too often chosen expressions of good books, you really don’t get any farther. One time, I even knew a whole book by heart: “The Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens, but I don’t believe that the grocer would have known what I meant if I were to declaim: “Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt Whatever about that” and so on. You get a lot more done with “shut up” and “let me alone.” You will be amazed at what a fine tone I can affect in English, as if I came directly from the underworld. I’m done. Cross your fingers [literally, press your thumbs] that I will get letters from you soon and that we will see you soon. Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Helen

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This is the 99th numbered letter that Helene has sent since she began numbering her letters in late 1939. She did this to try to keep track of how many letters were making it to their destination. The earliest numbered letter I have is #6, written on December 14, 1939. Sometimes multiple letters were sent together, and some letters were not numbered. This means she was writing to her family in America more than once a week. Numbering letters was not a new thing, particularly during wartime. Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy numbered some of the letters he sent home during World War I.

Helene and Vitali are cautiously optimistic that they will be able to get the documents together to travel in the next few months to San Francisco and be reunited with their children. Helene is happy to get rid of everything she no longer needs and imagines arriving in America with virtually nothing. This clearing out, which feels so cleansing at this point, must have felt like yet another cruel blow when they found themselves stuck in Vienna, facing yet another cold winter, even more impoverished than before, and with few remaining clothes and belongings to keep them warm.

We learn about how Helene came to become more fluent in English – reading popular fiction rather than classics in order to be able to speak and understand language. Ladies in Hades appears to have been quite the novel. We see that Helene was an omnivorous reader!

May 17

Today we have a letter and legal document from soldier Harry Lowell to sister Eva Goldsmith in San Francisco.

Philippines
May 17, 1945

Dear Sis,

Enclosed you will find the instrument giving you the power of attorney. Any document you sign as my attorney must bear your signature as shown on the instrument. (Mrs. E.L.G.) Use it wisely and don’t forget to consult Paul any time you are in doubt.

As to your inquiries about my assets, I can lay my hands on twelve-hundred dollars as of this date. In case of emergency wire me for money.

For your information, my bank is the Merchants’ National Bank, Sacramento; in case of my death you may open my safe deposit box which contains documents such as: passports, diplomas, war bonds, etc. I don’t think that the necessity will arise to open the box at any time.

I covered everything, I think, in my letter from New Guinea. I know you’ll keep me posted. 

I’ll write you a long letter very shortly.

Give my best regards to all.

Love,
Harry

P.S. Most of the money is deposited with the Soldiers’ Deposit bank and I can draw it out at any time.

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This letter and power of attorney show us how quickly Eva and Harry had to grow up. By May 1945, they knew that their mother had been released from Ravensbrück and been sent to Istanbul. I doubt if they had seen their mother’s letter that we saw in the May 10 and May 14 posts.

Eva and Harry must figure out how to bring their mother to the U.S. It appears that 21-year old Harry had saved almost every penny from the moment he arrived in America, hoping that one day he  and his sister would be able to help his parents join them – according to inflation calculators, $1,200 in 1945 would be worth about $17,500 today. I’m guessing that Eva had done the same, since all of my life my mother saved every penny, rarely spending anything on herself. Although I have a lot of Harry’s letters from New Guinea, I haven’t seen the letter where he “covered everything.”

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.”