October 2

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Today we see a half page letter from Helene to her children in San Francisco — she had already written a longer to her nephew Paul in honor of his 46th birthday. Unfortunately, that letter is missing from the archive.

Vienna, 2 October 1941

My dear children!

Since today I wrote to the birthday “child” first, this letter will probably be a little shorter than usual, because Papa is going to combine his walk to the post office with some other errands which have to be done at certain times, such as shopping. But that doesn’t matter—I’ll start by telling you what we consider important right now. If you need any documents, then we can only get them to you by telegraph since it’s questionable whether we can receive other news; for other important communications, please send them by post, and write to Olga every now and then. Our neighbors say hello to you. They are supposed to be moving tomorrow, but they’re not sure where. But otherwise, everyone is doing very well. Papa is impressing upon me that I should tell you that if you need photos of us, you should get them reproduced from the ones you took with you. I believe that you have thought of this yourselves, but I am obedient and I do what I am told.

Otherwise, I am dying to receive a letter from Everl again. I’m hoping one of those will slip through soon. But I have had to give up hope of ever getting a letter from Harry. I am fearful for you, but I have to call it a day. Papa is calling from the next room that he has finished shaving and he has to mail the letter. I will smooch more next time. Kisses and hugs.

Helen

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Although only in her mid-50s herself at the time she wrote this letter, Helene often thought of Paul as another of her children – a few months earlier in 1941, she wrote to him recalling a time she was his babysitter. After Paul’s and Robert’s mother and step-mother died, she was the only connection hey had to their mother’s generation.

As we’ve seen, acknowledging birthdays was paramount for the family, regardless of circumstances. Whether in the army in World War I, as prisoners of war in World War II, or continents apart in the 1960s, Helene and her nephews made sure their loved ones knew they were thinking of and missing them.

Even in this brief note, we see how constrained life has become: Vitali must plan his errands to coincide with limited business hours; vital documents and photos are impossible to send, even if required to satisfy paperwork requirements to leave the country; friends continue to flee Vienna (or are being deported?). We see the need for economy in the letter itself – there are no margins and every bit of the half-page is filled with type.

September 27

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In the September 25 post, we read about the situation of the refugees in Istanbul. At the same time, today we see that one of Vitali’s relatives was working to facilitate Helene’s reunion with her children in San Francisco. As a prisoner, I don’t know how she could have managed it on her own.

Istanbul, 26 September 1945

Very dear Mrs. Helena,

I have the pleasure of telling you that the local Consulate of the USA just advised me that the documents for your visa have arrived here.  Since those at the Consulate are very busy for the next few days, I was asked to wait 8 days to visit the Consulate about this matter.

I am very happy to give you this good news.  In three or four days I will contact the American Consulate to find out on which day you will be able to present yourself.

In case you need to tell me something, please write to me, because I am very busy these days and do not have time to go to Moda.

I am sending you 50 pounds via the person delivering this letter; I assume this will be welcome for you.

Hoping to see you again within a week, I greet you warmly

Yomtov Cohen

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Earlier in the year, we saw several letters from Yomtov Kohen – I believe he was one of Vitali’s nephews. He was a successful businessman, working for the Turkish division of Gislaved, a Swedish company that produced rubber goods. I found a Turkish site which is selling a copy of Yomtov’s business card.

We saw other letters from Yomtov in the June 22, July 20, January 14, January 26, and April 17 posts (listed in the order they were sent during 1945 and 1946). What a comfort it must have been for Helene to have his emotional and financial support, as well as a connection to her beloved Vitali. Fortunately, Helene was still in Moda when Yomtov wrote this letter, since we learned in the September 25 post that the Joint was planning to move the refugees to less expensive lodging. After they moved the refugees, it became difficult for Vitali’s relatives to find and visit Helene. I do not know what 50 Turkish pounds were worth, but it must have felt like a windfall!

September 22

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My mother Eva received her nursing degree from Mt. Zion Hospital School of Nursing in San Francisco in late September 1943 when she was 22 years old.

I wrote about Eva’s career in the July 7 post. In Vienna, she dreamed of becoming a doctor, but the lack of financial and emotional resources, as well as insecurity about being a non-native English speaker, prevented her from pursuing that goal in the United States. Instead, she took the more traditional route for a woman and became a nurse.

In the last few posts, we read about how Eva and her brother Harry worked summer jobs during and after high school, sending their meager earnings to help their parents in Vienna. After coming to San Francisco in late 1939, they had to grow up immediately. Eva completed her final year of high school and then enrolled at Mt. Zion. Harry finished high school a year later and joined the army. They supported themselves and asked little of their relatives who emphasized that they could not be relied on for further financial assistance than what was given to them to help them come to San Francisco. They saved as much money as they could in the hope and expectation that they would help their parents once they made it to the US. They had to be practical and could not pursue unprofitable dreams. My mother, already a serious sort, threw herself into school and work. 

In the 1980s, when I worked at San Francisco State University, I taught a course designed to help undergraduates do well in college. I asked my students to identify an issue or skill that was preventing them from academic success and to create a plan to develop the skills to improve. One semester, one of my students was a Baha’i who had come to the US to escape religious persecution in Iran. He was appalled by the complaints of his American classmates – to him, they had everything, their complaints were insignificant, they took their education for granted and did not care about learning. For him, education was the key to survival and there was no time to waste. He had no choice but to succeed. His story resonated with me – my mother had escaped similar circumstances and felt much the same as he did about her high school experience. While her classmates were worried about prom, she was worried about her parents’ survival. Education was the key to her being able to support herself and, hopefully one day, her parents. Such a heavy burden on young shoulders.

September 13

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Today we see two letters written in September 1939 to Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy in New York. He arrived in the U.S. in April and is trying to find his feet while also helping his relatives in their efforts to emigrate. It may be that they were sent in the same envelope.

13, September 1939

My dear!

I suppose you have written to me, as I have to you, and that your letter describes the clipper… of August 19.  I don’t have anything new to report.  Since the war began, I haven’t received any mail from Europe.  Please follow my suggestion and send mail about once a week, even if just a card (numbered!).  Mail from neutral countries seems to be getting through.

Warmly,

The Cohen Family

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Vienna, 9/11/39

Dear Paul,

Please don’t worry about us.  We will certainly try to leave somehow, but we don’t have any prospects at the moment.  Maybe you can write to the Zentners to get our ship tickets transferred to another line.  Here, you see, we can only pay in dollars; since the tickets from the USA are paid for, we cannot complete this transaction.  I don’t know which ship line you could consider because there may be changes. At this time, it would be possible to take the Italian line; however, it would have to be paid for in hard currency/foreign money.  I hope this can be taken care of soon.

If you write to Robert, tell him not to worry about us.

I’ll write more next time; I’m out of room today. 

Try to send us some news the same way.

Warmly,
Eva

Dear Paul,
Once we did experience history, but it was not that exciting.  I hope a direct connection is possible soon.

Kisses,
Helene

Paulie, look, here I am again today.  Don’t worry.
A thousand kisses.
Illegible signature

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Each of today’s letters have an element of confusion in them. Paul has been in the U.S. since April and is trying to help bring Helene’s family to join him. The typewritten letter has the #2 at the top, meaning it was the second of Helene’s numbered letters from Vienna to America. It is dated and postmarked September 13, 1939 from Istanbul, Turkey with a return address from Josef de Sévillia who I believe was married to one of Vitali’s sisters. Did Helene post-date the letter, knowing it wouldn’t be sent until several days after she wrote it?

The handwritten letter was confusing because Eva was already adopting the month/date order that we use in the U.S. (month-date-year), rather than the European convention (date-month-year), but used a Roman numeral for the day (XI) which in the letters written in German would indicate the month. So naturally, the letter was originally archived with the date of November 9, 1939. However, that would be impossible because Eva and Harry were in San Francisco by October. In the August 19 post, we learned that they had ship tickets and expected to arrive in New York on September 7. It appears that this letter was sent via Istanbul as well – perhaps in the same envelope as the typewritten letter? They would be following their own advice by sending these letters to Vitali’s Turkish relatives and asking them to forward them to cousin Paul. Mail between Germany (Austria was annexed in 1938) and the U.S. was unreliable at best. 

Three people wrote something on the handwritten letter – Eva, her mother Helene, and a third person. At first I thought the last part was a second note from Helene before posting the letter, but the signature looks nothing like hers. Perhaps it’s Paula, the friend who wrote so many letters after the war assuring Helene of Vitali’s survival?

I wonder whether Helene’s sentence about experiencing history alludes to a literary quote. I assume she is talking about the fact that she and Paul had been separated by war before, when he was a soldier in WWI.

September 2

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Today’s letter from Helene in Vienna to her children in San Francisco is the 124th numbered letter she has sent. In the August 30 post, we saw her 48th letter from a year earlier -- she was writing a letter every 5 days plus an unknown number of other letters to friends and family.

Vienna 2 September 1941

My dear children! No mail again. I should probably have gotten used to this already, but probably that’s not possible or else I would have learned to do it after all this time. As I reflect on this, I am not really in the mood to write long letters, and I will just confine myself to assuring you that we are doing okay, and that everything is the same. There wouldn’t be anything more to say about us if my desire to write were not below the freezing point.

The weather is also not improving my mood. We’ve had a few rainy days which weren’t that intense and not such that they didn’t even let the sun through, but midsummer is coming to its end and the temperatures in the morning and evening are quite cool already. A cold, violent wind made me unpack my winter clothes today, which I will do right away when I’m done with this little scribble to you, which serves to greet and to kiss you. But for the time being, I am not quite ready. Since I had planned to free myself of everything I had until recently, you can assume from the way I am writing that I am making this kind of division between the past and future. I don’t even think any more about having some grammar professor make comments about the way I write.

Papa got his pullover out this morning. He was cold, so I will get right on it to take out the carefully packed winter clothing. I am doing it with a heavy heart because I thought that you would be with me to help me with this. Maybe it’s the other way around: “Man leads and God thinks.” Maybe that’s the way it should be, but I wonder what God is thinking about.

We have acquaintances who have gotten letters from August 16, but the last one we got is dated July 23rd. I hope as always to get news from you soon. Now I will close because I want to get to the activity that I mentioned already.

Keep us in your hearts and write a lot please? I hug you and hope that you are as I am wishing for you.

With sincere kisses and greetings to all the loved ones. Your 

Helen

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We feel Helene’s deep sadness and frustration. Their bags have been packed (and unpacked) for more than a year in the hope that all of their paperwork and tickets would be in order and they could board a ship for America. The rules and goal posts kept changing – each time they thought they were on their way, something prevented their success. What cruel torture – elation at the thought of being reunited with their children, followed by agonizing failure and the need to gather their inner resources to try again. Somehow, they never gave up hope, the one thing that kept them going. But today it feels that her ever-present hope is deserting her. She had at last believed they would succeed and board the Ciudad de Sevilla on July 15, and that her children would already have helped her unpack her bags in San Francisco.

Helene mentions that she has stopped caring about writing perfectly — most of her previous letters have been typed perfectly, whereas today she has written in several corrections.

Helene reverses the saying: Der Mensch denkt und Gott lenkt - “Man proposes and God disposes.” According to Wikipedia, it is from the Latin Homo proponit, sed Deus disponit from a 15th century book by Thomas à Kempis. I would imagine that Helene used this quote often, given her self-identification as a fatalist – see posts from February 15, February 18 and August 1.          

Although this letter was her 124th, I am missing most of the letters written since #110 on July 1 — the censors or cruel fate in the guise of undelivered mail kept her children from hearing knowing the details of their parents’ failed attempt. They must have felt further from their parents than ever.                

August 30

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Today, we have the 48th letter from Helene in Vienna to her children who have been in San Francisco for ten months. It was written on August 30, 1940.

Clipper # 48

My dear children. It is the 30th of August and no news from Harry, and Everl’s letter from this week either failed to materialize or did not arrive, nor did I hear anything from the other side, which might have been a comfort to me.  My head is just a depository of ghosts. I feel like I’m in Dante’s circle of hell. I’m not in the mood to write and please don’t be hurt by that. As soon as I get the letters from you which I wish for I will write in more detail. The letter to Everl arrived yesterday and I apologize for opening it, but I’m enclosing it without having read it. In order not to damage the stamp that we needed, Papa had to cut open the envelope which had already been damaged by the long journey. After this second operation the original envelope wasn’t in good shape anymore. Also, if I had sent it in the original, the letter would have taken another 9 months, as you can see from the postmark.  

Papa is in a hurry, he has some things to do, so I am going to end for today and I hope that next time I’ll have a reason to tell you more and nicer things.

I wrote to Paul months ago that he should ask at our Consulate what should be done about our situation. The information which I got here did not seem competent. Do you remember how the American Consulate took up your case in such a different way than the one we have here? Even when you consider that the one I just mentioned is not so busy as the one here I still think that I would get better information from over there. Since Paul didn’t answer, I’m assuming he didn’t get the letter because otherwise he would have at least sent me a message, even if his news was negative. It’s really necessary to give Fate a kick in the pants.

We’ve had a visitor, and I’ll tell you all about it in the next letter.

Kisses.
Helen

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At this point, Helene has stopped even hoping for letters from Harry, noting only that the weekly letter she could count on from Eva has not appeared. The post continues to be unreliable. Apparently, Eva received a letter in Vienna that was sent from someone the previous year. Postage is expensive and resources are tight, so Vitali and Helene conserve every stamp and piece of paper.

August 20

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Today we have a letter from Helene to her children in San Francisco. Mail continues to be unreliable and is all that she lives for.

Vienna 20, August 1940

My dear children. The heavens have opened up completely and are sending huge amounts of rain on us as if it had been paid for and new rain clouds would be bought. I have only seen this much rain in my life when we went on vacation in the Salzkammergut or the Semmering area but long long ago. The postal worker looked up from her coat that she was wearing while riding a bike. She had quite a few letters hidden under there, kind of like a spinning top. My face looked like I suspected that among those many, many letters I might get quite a few from you. But there was nothing for me, not even a magazine which was a good thing because I would have gone crazy or had murder on my conscience. Papa’s consolation that other people have a right to letters too is plausible, but that’s not very comforting. I still haven’t heard from Harry since the 10th of June. Can you imagine that? I really try to keep calm but this is too much. Instead, I end up whining about not getting any mail, not that it does any good. Paul and the other ones have nothing to say and Everl’s reports are getting more infrequent and shorter. I really don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t want to be a problem to you but it’s really awful to live with such insecurity.

We are doing okay and the only thing we lack is mail from you. You don’t need to worry about us at all. We are not worried either and our deus ex machina is still working for us and of course he has no influence on your letters. That’s not really his department, unfortunately. The letters I have from you I have read through again and I have noticed that there aren’t that many. It’s not about the quantity of course, but one tends to think in absurd ways when one is so dependent on mail.

It’s so dark now that I have turned the light on even though it’s mid-day. I can’t believe where all this water is coming from. It must have rained an entire ocean already.

Vienna 21 August 1940

Oh my dear ones, my dear, dear children. Fortunately, I didn’t finish this letter yesterday, and now that I have just received Everl’s letter from August 6 it will be easier for me to continue writing. Of course, the previous letter once again did not arrive. The last one which we received was July 17 and just contained a mention that you had applied for “free station” [housing?] and some pocket money in order to wait for the wife and children to return. But Everl turned that down for moral reasons. Harry hasn’t sent anything (since the 10th of June!) and we are happy that Everl in her last letter did mention him so we have proof that he is alive and presumably that he is all right. Feuchtersleben once said that one has not figured out exactly at one point of disturbance of the soul insanity begins. In my case however, it wouldn’t have been any doubt - even a lay person would have been able to figure out that I am not even borderline anymore. Everl’s letter has strengthened my backbone and now the psychiatrists can argue about me.

The lively description of Mill Valley and the region reminds us that we saw some pictures of this area a long time ago. In fact, we saw how a primeval forest giant was cut down and the wood from this was transported in many, many different truck trips to the valley. It was mentioned that the wood from just one of these trees is enough to build a city and provide furniture for the homes. I thought in those days: well, I’ll just get a little branch, bring it home, and then I can replace our furniture in Vienna. Eva, who has artistic talent, and Harry, who’s good with his hands, will manage to turn that branch into a nice little home. Also, they showed how three cars could fit quite nicely driving through such a primeval forest, if they were crazy enough to try something like that. Now you know why we like to go to the movies so much. The fact that Everl happened to run into the chamber singer “F” shows that you wild ones are just better people.

I beg you if there is time to write to me in great detail. It’s so much easier to feel that I am with you in that case. Since you’ve been over there, I’ve only dreamed of you; but in the last few weeks, I’ve dreamed only of infirm people, most of whom are not even alive anymore. I don’t really feel that great in such company.

That’s all for now and I send kisses.
Think of me.
Mutti

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According to some scholars, Feuchtersleben was a precursor to Freud, although the latter made no mention of the former in his writing.

It is interesting to learn the vision of California and America that was available through movies and newsreels around the world.

August 19

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Today we have a letter from Eva and Harry to their cousin Paul Zerzawy in New York. Paul wrote an illegible note in pencil at the top of the page – it appears that he received the letter on September 2. Eva wrote her part of the letter in German, while 15-year old Harry wrote his in English.

 From Eva:

19. VIII. 39.

Dear Paul,

I’m glad there is someone who is even lazier about writing than the Cohen family.  It can be nice to make yourself (seem) interesting by not writing, but too much of that is unhealthy.  The reason I am breaking my long silence is:  We want to announce our arrival to you.  We will board the ship on September 1 and then arrive in New York on the 7th.  I wonder if the Statue of Liberty will be so emotional about the fact that we are finally on American soil that she will no longer be able to stand.  But maybe she has, by chance, already found out this news and can handle the great joy.

Everything is still the same here.  The parents are still waiting for their visas.  It will have to happen soon, though, since the process was started in Istanbul five weeks ago.  I think they will leave Europe almost as soon as the children do.

Greetings and kisses,
Eva

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In English from Harry:

Vienna, August 19th 1939.

Dear Paul,

I thank you very much for the letter you had in mind to write to us. Mother every day says; “What has happened to Paul, that he doesn’t drop us a line? Is he perhaps ill?” If you have been kidnapped by gangsters, please write us without delay and give us a detailed report. Yesterday I read in an English newspaper about kidnapping on light day. Thereof comes my supposition.

When I left Vienna for Turkey my weight was 75kg; on leaving Istanbul my weight was sixty.

“Ja, das macht die Luft Luft Luft“

Now I’m as slender as a racing horse. Can you imagine it? You’ll be astonished when you’ll see me.

Aren’t you thrilled by the speed we got our visa? It’s a record, indeed; it took only more than a year.

The American-Vice-Consul in Istanbul has been very kind; he even wished us a good trip and good luck. So the physician who examined us. I’ll write them a card.

Yours as ever
Your cousin clever
Harry.

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According to Wikipedia, the song Harry cites is Berliner Luft by Paul Lincke. I would like to think that the family sang this song with cousin Paul accompanying them on the piano during their musical soirees in Vienna.

In German and English, Eva and Harry express the same sentiments with similar humor – the ever-present refrain about letter writing, the promise of America, optimism for the future. Eva sounds very grown up and responsible - she’s already had to manage the trip with Harry to Istanbul and back. It is wonderful to hear my mother’s voice in this letter — her wry sense of humor and huge sense of responsibility werre the same at 18 as it was at 80. 

Harry’s English is very good, although not as good as in the letters he wrote in the army a few years later. In August 1939, Harry has not yet lived in an English-speaking country and has gleaned most of his knowledge from reading English newspapers and listening to the BBC on the radio. Throughout his life, Harry was fascinated by foreign language newspapers. Whenever my mother Eva traveled anywhere, she would bring him back a newspaper. He was thrilled when he got a computer and was able to read newspapers from around the world.

Although Eva sends the date of their anticipated arrival in September, they did not board a ship until a month later. Like their parents in 1941, there were multiple tickets and dates for departure. Fortunately for the children, one of the attempts was successful. Presumably each of these arrangements cost the family money, draining their ever dwindling resources.

We saw drawings and photos of Harry’s physical transformation in the June 6 post.

August 11

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Today we have a carbon copy of a letter written by Paul Zerzawy in New York to his aunt Helene in Vienna — you can tell it is a carbon copy because his signature is off kilter on the second page. He arrived in the U.S. in April. This is an interesting artifact because the vast majority of the correspondence in the archive between Helene and her family from 1939-1941 is in one direction. Fortunately, Paul saved a copy of this letter and copies of those written by his cousins Eva and Harry to their parents while they were in Istanbul establishing citizenship (see April 27, April 28, and May 6 posts) so we hear a bit from their perspectives.  

718 West 178th St., #44                               New York City, 11 August 1939.

Dear Helene!

To divert you from the worries that you have expressed again I will start by telling you that I am doing very well. I am in sort of a summer hibernation mentally because of the climate. I am not inactive – for example, I am taking classes in English and business subjects which take up 5 or 6 hours a day. But with that, my will power and my initiative are totally exhausted. Everything which is not tied to these prescribed hours gets put off to another time. I’m not the only one who feels this way. Most of the New Yorkers are suffering from the heat and humid weather just as much as those who have promised me a position who don’t seem to be able to get it together to make a decision. Because of this I am quite sure that I will, after Arthur gets back from San Francisco at the beginning of September, make my move to San Francisco. The refugee committee here which has pretty much failed to find work for me has at least pledged help for me to pay for the move, since my funds are not enough to pay for the trip and some amount of time of living costs.

About me you need to worry not at all, I’m not worried either. I am only nervous when new arrivals bring reports from different parts of Europe and I wonder how I can possibly enable you and Robert can immigrate here. In order to extend his stay in England or perhaps if it doesn’t work out in England to try and make it here, Robert desperately needs an affidavit. I have not found anyone here and it’s getting harder and harder. But it has to happen and it will. For you two, I will do what I can within my powers. However, there is a problem here and that is the reason why I have to wait to hear your opinion about this, before I speak to Bertha or other people. It has to do with the field in which Vitali is so successful and with which he could certainly earn his livelihood. But there are some legal blocks to that. The laws in the individual states are different. As far as California goes, apparently there, according to a letter that Bertha wrote, anything having to do with astrology or palmistry and such is forbidden. (I have already talked to Bertha and at least hinted around for you, and you may also have expressed your wishes to go to San Francisco.) It is possible that it is not an explicit ban on this, but it may be more like it is in the state of New York where according to my inquiries, general anti-fraud regulations are sometimes used against false prophets/swindlers. Sometimes there are police involved in this. (I will try to find out more exact information about the conditions here and in other places.) Now I don’t need to tell you that I hold Vitali’s talents in very high esteem and that I am sure that he if he were here, he would be able to convince doubters, whether official ones or not, of his abilities as he has done so in Vienna. By the way, even in New York, I know of some cases where this kind of work is in fact accepted, and some people have even put notices in the paper, while other people are not allowed to make any kind of propaganda.

But the risk, whether large or small, will make anyone shy away who might be able to sponsor him if it is not a relative who is particularly interested and wants to bring the immigrant here. As far as non-related sponsors, it is normal procedure that there would be a fee to pay which might be paid over several years and might be several thousand dollars. So really, the only ones who come into question are Bertha or someone in the family, and besides the fact that they believe they have already done their familial duty, and really they have already done quite a bit, they may be afraid of having trouble with the official bureaucracy. In order to mitigate these concerns, it would be good to provide proof that you are able to support yourself by writing. I don’t have any connections myself. There’s no point in going to a newspaper with empty hands. But do try to get some of the articles you’ve written for your work, and of course that doesn’t cost anything. Try to make them sound interesting and you do know the American taste - try to write something that would be appropriate and send it to me. In good English, or if it’s German I could see that it gets translated. If a newspaper accepts this, then you have already won quite a bit. I don’t think I can get an affidavit via a newspaper, but if we did get something published, we might be able to go to the relatives with a little more assurance that you could be successful. Please don’t be angry with me that I’ve burst your bubble [literally, thrown water into your wine], but there is no reason to shut your eyes in the face of the truth. There are problems, but of course they are just there for us to overcome, and doubt would be, as you would put it, a sacrilege.

I don’t think Vitali’s relatives in Istanbul will help you much according to what I know about Eva and Harry’s experiences. Or am I being unfair to them? I was, however, quite horrified when Eva wrote to me that the small amount of money which she has earned by the sweat of her brow she had to pay to them for room and board costs. I was so angry that I was afraid to answer because I was afraid the letter would be censored and it would just hurt the children. If they are not with you again, do please send them all my love. For the time it takes from the ship arrival to the delivery onto the right train to go to San Francisco, which could mean a few days in New York where they can take a rest and maybe take a look at the city, I will certainly take over the costs and the responsibility for them. I owe you some money anyway, for example for the music newsletter, which I got the first issue of but not the subsequent. Just make sure the children come soon while I’m still here. If that doesn’t happen, I will have someone take care of them, most likely Arthur. Those who can issue the affidavit - the Zentners and Firestones - should take out a power of attorney or proxy in my name and send it to me. Or if Arthur is already there, then they can send it to Arthur. It is a good thing if the sponsor or authorized representative is present when they land. What about the cost of the trip to San Francisco?

What I said above about my excuses about not writing is true for relatives whom you may see and to whom I may not have written yet. Keep me informed if it’s not too much trouble for you and you don’t have to pay for postage. Tell me, rather, what I owe you. You may complain to your heart’s content about my rudeness for not having written for so long - but, write! write! write!

Kisses from
Paul

Helene, can you draw the family tree of our American relatives and how they’re related to us once more? Arthur’s version does not correspond with your memories, which seem more accurate to me.

---

We learn so much from this letter. As usual, Paul’s correspondence is almost all business. It is filled with everything Helene and Vitali need to know and understand to facilitate their children’s and their own journey to America. Vitali’s unusual occupation is a stumbling block.

In the May 22 post, I included testimonials from satisfied clients. Also in that document were translations of several newspaper articles (including the ones in the April 7 and June 29 posts) – after reading this letter, I assume the document was created in response to Paul’s request for writing samples and other things that might convince officials and potential sponsors to help them emigrate.

We see that it was Paul’s responsibility to bring over his brother Robert from England, and his aunt and her family from Europe. This was quite a responsibility given his own lack of resources and limited English. He is doing everything he can and it’s proving extremely difficult.

August 1

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This letter from 1941 is labeled #118 – meaning that Helene had sent at least 118 letters to her family in San Francisco since she began numbering them in December of 1939. I have about 100 letters from that period – as Helene suspected, not all of her letters made it to their destination. The letter is damaged so the last big paragraph might not be translated correctly.

 Vienna, 1 August 1941

My dear children! 2 years ago today we were running around with pleasant stomach aches. We imagined we were going to see you on the 4th at 8 in the evening. I can still see myself walking the whole train to get a glance of my children but this didn’t happen. Eva was already standing on the train platform talking to Papa. Harry decided it was a good idea to stay in the background a little bit and let Eva prepare us for what he looked like. The stomach ache and the shivering knees are still with me today, just that the hope of such a train station scene is now with the roles reversed and it seems very far away. We are condemned to sit around and do nothing about our issues here and our hope is that our luck is dependent on yours and on your cleverness in dealing with these matters. It is impossible not to believe that fate has a hand in the game. It is very distressing that the door was slammed in front of us, but on the other hand, when believes in fate, it’s possible to endure it. “We will get away on time” says Papa, as he always does. He’s in such a good mood and he is so confident that he can hardly understand my impatience. This time I even insist that he must be right about this after all. There’s not much left of our tiny circle of acquaintances here and there is nothing nice to report so I will just confine myself to writing about generalities.

“C’mon let’s get to it,” speaking in Harry’s jargon. It is August now. The heat is the only thing that has remained the same and the airy clothing (usually none at all) of the neighbors across the way, assures us that they find it so hot as we do. Yesterday following Papa’s orders, I took 2 aspirin and I was surprised that these candies had such a prompt effect which for me is usually not the effect of being all sweaty. My nightgown was all wet, the pillows felt warm and damp, I lay in a murky puddle. Was I in a jungle? I wasn’t at all surprised when a cobra laughed at me and stuck out its tongue. This feverish bath atmosphere got on my nerves. I threw the pillows, sheets, and my nightgown off of my bed. There’s the solution to this problem. In my hands, I felt a leaking heating pad [Thermophore - brand name for a moist heating pad]. It had leaked out and it seemed like it was dried out. I have never seen Papa so quick and nimble. In no time, he brought fresh bed clothes and he turned the mattresses over, which on the other side looked like they had been under a chronic bed wetter. He rubbed me down and said “My word, you’re like a big chamois! Couldn’t you have called me a little earlier?” I was so proud of the unusual effect that the aspirin had had on me. Although I had been dried off, my skin looked like the hands of a washerwoman after a big wash day. My mattresses are standing up against the window and are being exposed mercilessly to the rising August sun and I hope that they will have the strength to get rid of the water they have soaked up. Well...

I was just interrupted by Jo. She had had some sort of argument 14 days ago and she vented about her bad mood. She came to make it an issue with me because I had not bothered about her while she was sooo sick. Of course, she was so sick that I am happy right now, but you know my mentality. I believe everything, so I am deceived by the stupidest people. Why shouldn’t I give my loved ones a little joy?

To close off the letter, I will make my stereotypical communication that I hope to get mail from you and that I love you unendingly.

I am greeting all of our dear ones and I still long to see you.

Helen

P.S. Please when you get a chance can you let me know which of my letters by number did not arrive? Of course, I mean those from the last months.

---

Helene begins her letter recalling her joyful reunion with her children two years earlier when they returned to Vienna after a few months in Istanbul to obtain their passports. As we saw in the June 6 post, in that short time, Harry had changed a lot – growing much leaner and taller, becoming almost unrecognizable. In recalling this earlier reunion, Helene is dreaming of a future one. The roles are now reversed and she is relying on her children to help them in their efforts to leave Vienna and join them in San Francisco.

In many of her letters, Helene looks to fate to pave the way. In the February 15 post, we saw a story Helene wrote about Vitali entitled “On being fatalistic.” When writing the Febraury 18 post, I realized that her description of fate comes from Goethe’s Faust. Sadly, in so many ways, fate was unkind to Helene and Vitali.

Throughout their lives, both Eva and Harry would describe themselves as fatalists – one of the many lessons they learned from their parents. I now realize that each time they would call themselves fatalists, they were evoking the memory of their parents. At the end of Harry’s life, we worked together to write his obituary. Harry spoke at length about how lucky he had been in his life – being an optimist, he dwelt on the aspects of fate that had been kind to him.

July 28

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Today we see two letters that Eva kept with other documents and letters in an envelope marked “Otto.” Helene’s nephew Paul kept a copy of his reply to Otto’s letter Paul — he takes the lightest tone I’ve seen in any of his letters – he jokes about becoming a “rich American cousin.” If only he had succeeded!

Prague, 16 June 1939
(received June 28) 

Dear Paul!

Many thanks for your last letter, which I will answer in detail later.  

I just wanted to send you a short piece of news that on 10th of this month I married Steffi and I am sending you a photo.

Many greetings and kisses from Steffi as well. 

Your
Otto

P.S. On the 23rd, we will be moving into Robert’s apartment which we have rented for the foreseeable future.

718 W. 178th St.                                                                             July 28, 1939
c/o Cooper, Apt. 44
New York NY 

Dear Otto,

I was so happy to get your marriage announcement.  I know you will not regret this.  From the moment I met Steffi, I knew, despite difficulties in communicating, that she was a person one can get along with.  She will be a good housewife and a compassionate companion for you, just what one needs in these times.  Please translate my congratulations into good Czech for her.  Tell her of my request that she and I be on friendly terms, just as I have always been with you without any trouble at all.  I owe you a wedding present, and in order to pay this debt, I hope to become a “rich American cousin” as soon as possible.  With patience and luck this goal should be possible even nowadays, although it may be the exception.

My complaints about being lazy about writing letters are perhaps tempered somewhat by your failure to send me a detailed letter.  You are forgiven, of course!  But you won’t get a detailed description of my life, either. It’s bad, and uninteresting.  Thousands are running around who share my fate.  My intention is to go away from here, probably to San Francisco, if I don’t find something soon. Job opportunities are better anywhere but New York.  What are you going to do?  I think you have your job until September; and do you have any plans for later?  If you have time, tell me about it in detail, and let me know what your brothers, cousins and other relatives are doing.  If you get together with them, say hello from me, and tell them I’m sorry I haven’t written yet.

I know that you are dealing with my issues, since Leo Schauer wrote to me that he, in agreement with you, asked me to provide the bank with my address because of the locked-up papers (may mean:  frozen accounts).  I have done this.  How does it look re selling Czech state papers; do you think we will ever see anything from that?  Thank you so much for your trouble and care. – Also, re getting the sum back which I paid, under the title “surrender”, for the approval/permit of further (payments), I hope you can confirm that you have tried everything humanly possible.  I don’t suppose I will get the first 200 pounds back.  The first 200 pounds (and, after all, that is all I got approved) were tax free, and legally the ministry should return the surrendered amount, if not the donation demanded.  ---  I also wanted to ask you if Mother, from whom I haven’t heard in a long time, is receiving her full pension – and if not, why not?  You are in touch through letters with Robert, whom I’m very worried about.  Otherwise, I unfortunately don’t have any good news to tell you, other than the fact that I am in good physical health, except for being bothered by the New York hear and humidity.  That last thing is really a serious excuse for not writing.  --- Your climate probably has not changed, so I hope to hear from you.  Greetings and kisses from

---

We saw related letters in the July 4 and July 22 posts. I believe that Otto was one of Paul’s cousins. He wrote and sent packages from Prague to Helene and Vitali when they were in the camps.

July 25

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When translating my grandmother’s letters, we began with the typed letters to Helene’s children, which seemed most important and were most legible. My archivist sorted the letters by date, recipient, and the location they were found. Because of this, the handwritten letters to Paul were some of the last to be translated. As we have seen, these help us piece together the story of my family’s journey.

At the time of this letter, Eva and Harry are living in Istanbul to obtain passports to join Paul in America. In Vienna, Helene and Vitali are doing everything they can to organize their children’s passage. Paul is in New York, having arrived in the U.S. a few months earlier. He was sponsored by his mother’s cousin’s son Arthur Schiller (son of Bertha and George, with whom Eva would live when she arrived in San Francisco), a law professor at Columbia. Paul’s brother Robert has been in England for a few months. 

Vienna, 25 July 1939

Paul, why do you not write to me? I don’t know what I should think. Existential questions, different climate, tiredness, just no desire to write. Yeah, I know. I can imagine your situation, but just a postcard Paul, a postcard with just a few lines would be enough. It would free me of this pressure that I feel from your lack of writing. My fantasy does not come up with such beautiful flowers through my reading of trashy novels, but I live in Vienna and do you still remember a Wallace who needed to sit down to put out 300,000 editions for the army? Are you ever going to answer? We expect the children to be back soon when they have traveled in the shortest time, by ship. Arthur Schiller is at his parents’ house so I will probably have to ask you to take care of meeting the children and taking them in. Weren’t you in touch with the Schillers? Hasn’t he granted you any dispositions about the children? Bertha wrote to me that she hopes that the children will not arrive right when Arthur is not there, July-August. I don’t want to leave the children in Vienna any longer than I have to however. Papa Zentner told me good things about you about Dr. Heinz and French bread. Are you in touch with him? As soon as I know more details about the children’s departure, I will write to those two in case you may not be in New York, so they will be able to take care of them when they arrive.

Mela W wrote to me last week to ask how you are doing. Paula J also asked for your address, and Marie and Mila who have been in San Remo for 14 days to recover. This case, which in my opinion, is hopeless, in our circle of acquaintances has gone up in smoke. A letter from Robert, in whose health I believe very firmly, did bring me some joy. Few, in fact very few, familiar faces are here. The vacuum becomes greater every day. Please Paul, write, write, write.

Many kisses
Helen

---

We get a real feel for the urgency Helene feels and how quickly things are changing in Vienna. Helene is trying to work out the logistics from afar – who will be in New York to meet her children when they arrive in the U.S.? Their ultimate destination is San Francisco, so she wants to make sure an adult familiar with how things work will be there to meet them and facilitate their journey.

I did a quick search for “Wallace 300,000 army WWI” and found an article about Colonel William Wallace, who commanded an American unit in Italy in 1918. According to the article, although theirs was the only unit stationed there, the Austrians believed that they would be facing 300,000 men. Wallace decided to play on their fears and made it appear like he had many more men. The main definition of the word Auflagen is “edition”. Other definitions relate to printing terms like copies and impressions. Given Helene’s experience in newspapers and stationery perhaps she was alluding to how Wallace made it seem like there were many more “copies” of men.

July 20

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Today we have a letter from Yomtov Cohen, one of Vitali’s relatives (a nephew or cousin?) in Istanbul. We have seen previous letters he wrote trying to facilitate her release and emigration to the U.S. to rejoin her children at last. Helene arrived in Istanbul two months earlier in a prisoner trade which liberated her from Ravensbrück and has been living as a prisoner in Istanbul as well. In a few of Harry’s letters to his sister Eva (see May 17, June 5 and July 13 posts), it is clear he is frustrated about not being in San Francisco to help her bring their mother over. Letters and memos from the Joint, which was paying for housing for the prisoners in Istanbul, talk about trying to move people though as quickly and economically as possible (see July 10 post). I assume I have this letter because it was sent to Eva in San Francisco to help her understand what steps were necessary to speed up her mother’s release. This letter touches on yet another worry for Helene – will she be “encouraged” (pressured?) to go to Palestine instead of waiting for the resources to get to her desired destination?

---

Istanbul, July 20, 1945

Dear Mrs. Helene,

I have received your valued letter.

According to your wishes, I sent one of my employees to the American Vice Consul to find out something about your case.  He was informed that the papers having to do with the affidavit have not been received yet.  To speed things up, it would be necessary for Eva in America to expedite sending in the relevant documents.  Can you write to your daughter and send me the letter so that I can send it on to her via airmail?

As far as the registrations are concerned, my employee was given the enclosed form which you should kindly answer and return to me so that your request may be registered at the American Consulate.  However, I have the impression that the matter will take quite a while.  Thus, expediting the matter in America could speed things up here.

Could you please let me know what your situation is here.  Will you be able to stay here longer, or will you be encouraged to go to Palestine?

Expecting, as always, your valued news, I remain

Yomtov

July 18

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A letter from Helene in Vienna to her nephew Paul Zerzawy in San Francisco:

Vienna, 18 July 1941

Dear Paul! I took stock of things today, but it’s pretty sad. I have written 48 letters to the children since the beginning of the year, but I have received only 10. It is 4 dozen letters: 1) I have not included letters of a different date when they were sent on the same day but in one envelope, 2) letters to you, Hilda, the Zentners, the Schillers, etc. when they were sent to your separate addresses. As you see, my writing business is passive and it must bring up feelings in you about 1870. I am turning to you therefore because I am looking for some sort of resolution. The problem is as you see not coming from me. Of the 10 letters I’ve gotten from the children, the first 7 came closed and they appeared regularly in the first 7 weeks of the year. The other 3 appeared in intervals of 3 months. Since the last 2 were filled with matters of our emigration and made up for the prospect of not getting any mail, we were able to endure this unpleasant situation rather more easily. But since this hope turned out to be fallacious, the lack of letters is appearing twice as painful to me at this point. Do you think that fate has let itself play a bad trick on us? Why? We were so close to getting our goal in life, our happiness and our bliss, come to fruition. We have heard that the children can obtain something in Washington to cause the embassy in Berlin to give us an exit visa. At some point the documents would have to be deposited and this does seem plausible and I don’t think it’s “Bonkes” (a technical term for non-Aryan fairy tales). Please take steps to make sure this happens. It is very very urgent and please let us know if you can’t, where we can turn. About 100 people did get permission to emigrate to Cuba but as we’ve already written, we decided to refrain from such a request because there are new kinds of bother and annoyance with us and apparently doing this requires putting up a certain sum for a deposit. But perhaps you know more about these possibilities over there than the religious community here does. Please Paul, could you take an interest in this and get us some news?

I hope that you are all doing well and I request that you send my best greetings to everybody. Hugging you and greeting you in the best way I can.

Helen

---

Their July 15 departure date has come and gone and Helene and Vitali are back at the drawing board. They have given up their business and gotten rid of most of their possessions. Having culled to the bare necessities they could take in the few kilos of luggage they were allowed to take on their journey, they now have very few clothes and resources left. They find themselves right back where they began their efforts to emigrate two years earlier. But the paperwork and bureaucracy are virtually insurmountable at this point. There are rumors of ways to expedite the process and Helene places her confidence in her nephew to make it happen. As I read through all the letters, I think about how this responsibility must have weighed on Paul. Although he had been a successful attorney in Europe, in the U.S. he has no resources, credentials, and few language skills to tackle these virtually impossible obstacles. He must have felt helpless and a failure — wanting so much to help his beloved aunt and her husband escape, but being unable to do so.

Helene mentions 1870 as a memorable year for Paul and perhaps herself. Neither had been born yet. Since she is writing this letter on July 18 from Austria which has been annexed by Germany, she is probably referring to a momentous date in European history: Napoleon III declared war on Prussia on July 19, beginning the the Franco-Prussian War. Germany won the war in 1871 and emerged far more powerful. (The only other events I could find that might have been of interest to them both: the concert hall in Vienna that housed the Vienna Philharmonic opened in January and Charles Dickens died in June. In terms of dates of personal importance, Paul Zerzawy’s father Julius was born on September 9, 1870.)

July 15

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Today was the day Helene and Vitali were to have boarded the ship to America. Instead, they found themselves still in Vienna. Due to the disappointment, Helene confused the date when typing the letter. From the contents, it’s clear she wrote it on July 15 -- as I assume Paul Zerzawy wrote in pencil to clarify. Paul often noted the arrival date on letters he received.

Vienna, 15. April 1941 (in pencil: July? Arrived August 5)

My dear children! It’s more than 30 degrees in the shade [86 degrees Fahrenheit] and it’s pretty extreme when you don’t know whether you’re a man or a woman. I do in fact know that we should have been on a ship today had things lined up right both in heaven and on earth, but we are doing nothing but wiping sweat from our brow. I just came from one of those paths from which the devil must have been responsible. I went with Papa. Result? “And here, poor fool, I stand once more; No wiser than I was before.” Papa who apparently thought that he hadn’t run around enough yet, said good-bye to me so that I could prepare the meal for him and he decided to keep wandering around in an attempt to gather memories of his existence in Vienna.

Yesterday there was a terrible thunderstorm. For us it was a grandiose nature spectacle; for others whose nerves reacted differently, spent a fear-filled sleepless night. We, however, were ecstatically breathing in large gulps of the air that had been cleaned by the storm, enjoying it to the fullest. How appropriate, I want to Züge! [a pun meaning both to board a train and to breathe] When there are temperatures like this, it is not really much of a pleasure to travel, but perversely we seem to be assessing it differently, because we are really looking forward to it. We would really just like to know when, where, and where to. To find this out, we have both needed to hurry up. But the heat paralyzed me – otherwise I would have been behaving like a volcano  -- Etna and Vesuvius could have learned from me.

Since it’s really not sure yet when we will be able to grace the Western Hemisphere with our presence, I am going to switch over to waiting for the mail again. Get started! A few days ago, it looked like I would be able to get the mail myself, but the storm was so bad that that idea went away as soon as it showed up.

What did that old shoe maker say? Oh, don’t ignore it. Bravo. Today in my dream, a cavalry officer known to me - well this is to amuse you - well, he did a somersault with his horse and he did it in a goldfish pond. I don’t think I’ll have to do a dangerous jump to entertain you.

Until then, many letters will be written. I’m at 114, how about you?

Many, many unnumbered kisses from the old world. Greetings to everyone, whose names I will not list because it would probably cost too much to mail. Please don’t forget anybody.

Helen

---

Helene is still hopeful that all will work out despite the delay. I so admire her resilience. She will not lose hope that she will see her children soon. She is full of puns and word play. As usual, the quotation is from Part I of Goethe’s Faust: “Da steh ich nun, ich armer Tor, und bin so klug als wie zuvor.”

I assume it was not a coincidence that the sentence about getting the mail herself included the words “helen können” -- a play on her own name. Helene gets right back to letter writing, continuing to number her missives to keep track of how many make it to their destination. At the same time, her kisses remain numerous but unnumbered.

July 12

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Helene wrote this letter just 3 days before she and Vitali were to have boarded a ship in Lisbon for the United States. Her happiness and hope of a few weeks earlier are gone (see May 29 post), replaced with a fatalism and unease. She writes to Hilda in English, but not with the fluency we see in her letters sent from Istanbul 5 years later. I have edited today’s letter a bit for clarity.

Vienna, July 12. 1941

Dearest Hilda!

I was philanthropical enough to advertise this dangerous letter to you in the last one to the children. Hoping to have plentiful chats with you very soon, I deferred the answer to your charming letter from 12 April. Your letters gave me a great enjoyment, and feeling myself unable to write to you in the same manner, I waited, waited and waited. Indeed, I believed I would have occasion to embrace you in a short time, but our joy was premature. The Lord takes care that trees don’t grow into the heaven. My fatalism entreats of God to be a good man, and the idea that we all are marionettes only, helps us to let things slide. I gave up the eruptions of my temperament at such opportunities and remain silent. Of course, this silence is external but inside, the volcano bubbles. For some weeks, we have lived in a room which has more resemblance to a removal business than to a sitting-room. A pillar, shaped by our luggage, is the most remarkable furniture. No wonder that the scene in my dreams always is of the station or a waiting room in the station, but I never saw the railway in my recent dreams. I feel the inconvenience of a great voyage with insufficient possibilities. My neck and legs become stiff and I have a foretaste of the dreams of future. The most disagreeable thing is that I only dream this unpleasantness. I should prefer the reality of tired extremities and a transient Genickstarre [stiff neck] as a reward for being united with my children, and seeing you and all I want to see again and those I don’t know personally but wishing to know them. Once I read a story of a Schlemiel, who had never fallen in love, but he always dreamed about accidents. He became a father of an illegitimate child - in the dream of course - he gets condemned on account of permitting an abortion -- the poor fellow never had had a sweetheart. With similar feelings I am awakening.

Vitali has compassion for me and advised to write to you in German. What a glorious idea! But for the next time. This letter must leave. Too much softening of the brain it has caused. Forgive me, darling, that always you must be my victim. But I know that my children, including Paul, are for the most part with you and therefore you know most about us.

I love you more than you can imagine, and I am happy at the thought of seeing you. For now, I am sitting at the station, waiting for railroad, not knowing what to do with my arms and legs. I kiss you. Please send Nathan my best wishes for you both. Vitali just now is hunting for food. I wait for him with impatience and a great deal of hunger. Wishing you a good repast, I remain your crazy, foolish, mad, silly, idiotic, weak-minded, imbecile (I am sorry, I didn’t find more synonyms in my dictionary) loving

Helen

---

 I found this quotation attributed to Carl Jung:
“No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell.”

July 6

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Today we have another letter from Helene to her nephew Paul Zerzawy in New York. Her children are in Istanbul in order to obtain passports to allow them to travel to the US.

 Vienna, 6 July 1939

Dear Paul, do you know how many letters there are now to which you owe me an answer? I don’t mean this in a bad way, I can’t really imagine that it’s a matter of time or that you don’t have the inclination to write to me. But I am also considering that you have other readers and I hope at least that I am pretty high on the list. This jargon must remind you of Zelinkagasse and your previous domain. Across the street from there now is some kind of financial office which has invited me to come by for a visit. When I am there, I will do a little wave to you, at least mentally. By the way, I met in Meistersingerstrasse recently (now you’d probably like to know where that is), it used to be known as Mahlerstrasse, I met the Pomweiser [?]. He asked about how you were doing. He was upset that he hadn’t heard from you. I had to come up with a plausible reason for that, because he asked me for your address so he could write to you. There’s no reason to worry, but partly to amuse you and partly to give other reporters a chance to write about Vitali, I am enclosing an article of the Volkszeitung in English translation. In the last letter I sent to you a copy of our registration cards. What do you think about the number 53? We don’t have very many front men and I believe that it would be our turn soon if we were in possession of an affidavit. Can you make it plausible to our relatives that we would not be a burden on anyone? Vitali’s achievements are unsurpassed and I wanted to ask you to go to some newspaper and ask maybe based on the articles and the material I am sending with this letter and the brochures you asked for so we could have current articles and information about Vitali’s work and that might help us to get the affidavit. It would be wonderful for me if we did not have to bother our relatives who have already done so much for us. As soon as the children are over there, you will get beautiful postcards from me.

For today, just lots of kisses
Helen

Say hello to the Schillers.

---

According to the Zerzawy family tree, Paul’s law office in Vienna was located on Zelinkagasse. In looking up this address, I found his home address on Geusaugasse. I was delighted to discover that he lived just around the corner from Helene and her family – my map program says the two homes were just 400 feet apart!

As I read Helene’s letters, I often think about how disorienting life must have been. Life was growing ever more dangerous, rules and bureaucracy changed daily, the country she lived in was now Germany, and even the street names changed – in this case from the name of a Jewish composer from Bohemia to the name of an opera by Wagner. Helene must have had a complicated relationship with Wagner’s music – he was one of her favorite composers, yet was known for his antisemitism and was a favorite of Hitler. Helene named her daughter Eva after the heroine in the Wagner’s Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg.

The newspaper article that Helene mentions might “amuse” Paul was the hateful article we saw in the April 7 post. Helene continues to be hopeful that Vitali’s occupation would be accepted and thrive in San Francisco.

Meistersingerstrasse no longer appears on a map of Vienna. According to a website of Vienna street names Mahlerstrasse was known as Meistersingerstrasse from 1938-1946 and then reverted back to its previous name.

In the July 1 post, we saw the document Helene sent to Paul about their number of 53 on the Turkish waiting list to emigrate.

Possibly Paul Zerzawy’s law office on Zelinkagasse

July 3

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Today we have a letter written from Helene in Vienna to her children Eva and Harry in San Francisco.

 Vienna, 1 July 1941

My dear children! Do you remember how much we once laughed when I asked Dr. W, a friend of Paul’s, how he liked Linz where he had moved to and he replied: “Yes, Linz is a lovely city. You can drive to either side of it, but you don’t realize that until your first year there. The second year you become used to it and you realize that it doesn’t do any good to wish that you could leave. The third year you’re already a fool, and the fourth year you’re a real Linzer native.” I am sort of at that point myself. I don’t know if Dr. W knew then how wonderful it is to have the possibility of driving in both directions. I doubt it. Another advantage he forgot to mention: after only 4 days you get a letter that was mailed from Vienna. That’s how it was at one point. But my membership in the Linz club as it were I can claim because of the condition of never getting any mail, and that I can’t even drive away in one direction. Certainly, our deus ex machina does not think it’s the right moment for this to happen or otherwise he would have already intervened. I wait for him, although I know that he will not appear even one second earlier than planned. He’ll be on time, but always at the last moment! If I were not so terribly worried about you, I would just wait patiently, but the way it is, it is very, very painful and the mail is merciless.

Today is the first day that Papa is an independent gentleman. This morning we gave our successor the keys to the shop. In the beginning of September, the shop will probably come out of its summer hibernation. They say that walls have ears. If they had a mouth too and could talk, they could really amuse many of us. When we were going on a walk through the city yesterday, Vitali showed me a shop that looked even more dusty than ours. It looked like Zwieback! (May it rest in peace.) Papa only goes downstairs to send a letter to you. It’s a real private life! But I [don’t] expect him back soon because many of his acquaintances haven’t said good-bye to him and they will not let him leave unless they can shake his hand. Today they will supposedly issue visas again. We’ll see if we’re included in the group.

I kiss you most fervently and I send you my best greetings.

---

We can feel the anticipation and anxiety as Helene and Vitali’s departure date of July 15 nears. The tale of Helene’s nephew Paul’s friend’s experience of Linz makes us feel the claustrophobia and paralysis they’ve felt the past several years in Vienna. It sounds Vienna was feeling like a ghost town, with many stores closed or abandoned. Certainly something we can relate to in the last year when the entire world shut down due to Covid.

In 2017, Vienna’s Jewish Museum had an exhibition in 2017 on Jewish-owned department stores, including Zwieback. According to an article on the exhibit, these stores had disappeared by 1938. On page 257 of this PDF link, you can see a picture of a changing room at Zwieback Department store in 1910.

In the last line, Helene mentions waiting for a visa — we learned in the June 19 post of their giving up their store and that the American Consulate was closed for vacation during the last two weeks of June.

July 1

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Today we have a letter and document each from July 1, 1939 concerning the Cohen family’s efforts to come to the United States.

 American Consulate General Vienna, Germany

Mr. & Mrs. Haim Seneor Cohen and Helene Cohen

Under consideration of the questionnaire which you have filled out and submitted here containing your request for preregistration for the purpose of emigration into the United States of America, it is being communicated to you that you have been registered as of the date October 21, 1938 on the Turkish waiting list under the preregistration number Turk. 53 D, 53 E.

You will be notified in good time when your number on the waiting list has come up. This written document is to be carefully preserved. A copy cannot be issued. The preregistration number is not the same as the quota number.

Stamp: American Consulate General Vienna, Germany                 July 1, 1939

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Vienna 1 July 1939

My dear Paul! On the 20th of July, the children have an appointment for a medical examination. Since we took all necessary steps to take care of this formality in Istanbul, it is not impossible that the emigration of the two children can happen at an even earlier time than we thought. All documents are ready. Vitali has really outdone himself this time. If I try to tell you about his work, there’s too much to delve into. As soon as we have the date set, we will let Arthur know and the Zentners so you will know about receiving the children. I am very happy that my patience of a lamb is not going to leave me in the lurch. It becomes clearer every day that doubt is a sacrilege. There are also things I could say about me, but I’m protected from head to toe from everything that does not have to do with the children’s departure. As soon as this question is clarified, you will hear about our plans. I think of you every day and I must ask you not to worry about the future. You have worked so hard in the last few years that the non-voluntary break from work is almost a blessing. We have no reason to tempt fate so don’t worry about us. If you are in good standing with the lord God like we are, there is nothing to fear. Do not make me wait so long for an answer. Both of you, you and Robert, have the talent to play the violin out of my nerves. I’m hoping you get better soon. How is your health? How do you stand the rather unpleasant New York summer climate? The children have become rather slender. Harry has lost 8kg but he is still healthy and he calls himself a “matjes herring”. Eva has, according to the passport picture, the kind of figure that she always wished she had in Vienna but which the cuisine in Seidlgasse made it possible.

Paul, please write soon and please don’t be insulted that I am sending you postage. I automatically include it with all letters sent to other countries.

Kisses
Helen

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Both of today’s documents remind us again of how difficult the process to leave Europe was — no one made it easy or straightforward. As in previous letters, Helene talks about the lengths Vitali went to get the proper paperwork and documentation. It sounds like he haunted the American and Turkish consulates daily.

At this point, Paul Zerzawy has been living in New York for a few months, staying with relative Arthur Schiller who was a law professor at Columbia, and unable to find work. Like Vitali, Paul has spent much of the previous few years trying to get himself and family members out of Europe. When Eva arrived in San Francisco, she stayed with Arthur’s parents. We saw Eva’s letter about the physical exam in the June 26 post.

We saw in the letters from April 13 and May 7, 1940, that almost a year after today’s letter, Helene addressed Harry as “matjes herring” – her pickled herring. It appears he dubbed himself that in a letter I do not have that he wrote to his parents from Istanbul. I thought Helene made up all her pet names for her children, but apparently sometimes she had help! A friend who read this post found the following definition of “pickled herring”: “[Dutch pekelharing, from German pickelhering, from Pickelhering, droll comic character of the 17th century German stage] : buffoon.”

June 27

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have a letter from Helene in Vienna to her children Eva and Harry in San Francisco. As in a previous letter, they are still awaiting their visa from the American Consulate which has irritatingly closed during the last two weeks in June. They have tickets for a ship voyage from Italy to America on July 15.

Friday, 27 June 1941

My dear children!

There has been a terrible mugginess here the last few days, which has a debilitating effect on one, but what is debilitating me even worse is the fact that I have still not received any letters from you. We are experiencing the longest day, not just in the sense of the calendar but with the effects of not getting any mail and the fact that nothing is happening with our matters of emigration. We are living in such an abnormal time that the meaning of all geographical and astronomical concepts has shifted. For example, we have here at the same time the longest days and the longest nights. When we are able to be with you again, it’ll be the opposite. We are waiting every day 48 hours for the visa. You try doing that! The feeling of missing the train and waiting for the next one at the train station is coming over me when I look at our suitcases that are already packed. I could write a book about that. “The suitcases are looking at you!” Downright reproachfully. I suppress the wish to get a handkerchief in the most valiant way because I don’t want to have to open a suitcase. Every day I have washing to do because I have organized the changing of clothes in such a way that one set is drying while the other is being worn. You will tell me that that is how you do things in America. That’s true, but it’s only when you’re talking about underwear which is so easy to wash it’s like child’s play. But that’s not true of the sheets on the bed or the things you have to wash in the house. But what kind of nonsense am I telling you? I find that when I am writing to you, I need to keep my temperament in check because I don’t want you to be witnesses to an emotional outburst. And so I will end now. Maybe the days will start to get shorter again by Tuesday.

With many kisses
Helen