October 30

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As we learned in yesterday’s letter, Vitali would only go to the post office on Fridays, so this letter from Helene to her children was probably sent along with those from October 28 and 29. 

Clipper 57b                             Vienna, 30 October 1940

My dear little bunnies!

Yesterday I grumbled a little bit, and today a letter actually arrived (#6 from October 15). The question I asked Eva yesterday – whether she has Sunday off – have become pointless because the letter today explains all that. Two hours of work on Sunday wouldn’t be all that bad, but it’s unfortunate that they are so far apart. Well, you can’t do anything about that. I guess life would be just too good otherwise. About the first evening dress that Tillie bought for you - you had a cyclamen-colored lipstick to match the dress and I do hope that you don’t go for a bright green one. Harry, as a kitchen expert, well that’s nothing new. It’s interesting that Papa recently brought me a rolling pin to make pastry with, to which I kind of had the same reaction as Hilda did. Only the fact that there were a whole week’s ingredients in that dough, that’s the only reason I didn’t throw the dough right at the wall. The dough did not really stay stuck to the roller but one sheet of dough only made two cakes, which were only the size of a flat plate. It would be efficient, but imagine if everybody were a little wanted to eat fine cakes? No, no, I’m going to use the old system, even if Papa calls me backward because of it. Harry had the same wish to rescue the reputation of the Viennese coffee cream torte. That’s sweet, funny. Yes, yes. Two souls and one thought, two hearts but only one stomach. Since your letter today arrived, Papa’s been scratching and he is of the opinion that our sacred boy stuck a flea in the envelope. At least the description of the flea hunt was a journalistic masterpiece, even if Papa who usually only believes in facts was able to imagine the magic of being bitten by a flea.

You wanted to hear more about our subletters? Okay, let me present to you Herr Lubinger, an old age pensioner who has quite a historic face. His activities now are going to get cigarettes for himself, going to get milk for me, copying my recipes for his wife, and asking me if we could make all of that again. I told him, well, yes, eventually. While his wife and I support each other in house and culinary work, he sits there over a chess problem. In the afternoon he reads Homer or Ovid or he borrows one of the books that we still have around.

Frau L looks like your piano teacher Einö-Zweiö and I managed to impress her because I was twice as tall and three times as wide. After we wash dishes, we don’t see each other until we make breakfast together. This is the time for cooking lessons. The recipe instruction “you take a…” is a problem that is hard to solve., but at the last moment the redeeming thought will come. Mrs. Clara Friedman, on whose recommendation we decided to take this pair in as our subletters, is now herself in a difficult situation because her big apartment has been requested. Unfortunately, I cannot reach her by phone anymore, because she no longer has a phone. If Everl gets a letter from Jo, “dear Eva and dear Alf”, don’t believe she is crazy. The letter is actually for both of you and you should send the original to Alf. Your mother is fresh and spry and at the moment quite busy with sewing sleeves onto your father’s sleeveless vest (without eyeglasses). What a generation that was! So, does Lotte Lehmann still sing? I cannot imagine “Rosenkavalier” being performed without Richard Meyer. What is Mr. Fleischer doing? Does Paul get together with him very often?

That’s enough for today! Keep me in your loving thoughts and stay the way you are. I love you!

Helen

P.S. Say hello to everybody.

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In addition to numbering and keeping copies of letters, Helene often gives a recap of the letters she receives, giving us a sense of their “conversations.” It’s impressive to see how quickly mail arrives when it does arrive – I don’t know that our international mail is any quicker these days.

Helene’s comment about both Vitali’s and Harry’s desire to “help” in the kitchen sounded like a quotation and it is. The original is: “Zwei Seelen und ein Gedanke, zwei Herzen und ein Schlag" Two minds with but a single thought; two hearts that beat as one attributed to Eligius Franz Joseph von Münch-Bellinghausen from “Der Sohn der Wildnis” in 1842

It is wonderful to hear more about the couple sharing their apartment – each letter brings them more fully into focus. They provide a welcome distraction from the ever-worsening situation in Vienna as well as from the sporadic mail delivery.

I could not find any mention of Richard Meyer, but found an advertisement in the San Francisco Examiner for a performance of “Der Rosenkavalier” on October 16, 1940 featuring Lotte Lehmann. I assume Eva wrote to her parents about this, and perhaps even attended.

From The San Francisco Examiner, October 16, 1940, p. 35

Baritone Arthur Fleischer was born in Vienna in 1881, arrived in San Francisco in 1939, and died there in 1948. Interesting to hear that Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy was friends with him. Like Paul, he taught music and performed in the Bay Area. The San Francisco Examiner from 1939 and the 1940s has several articles and advertisements about Fleischer. In an article about his first concert in San Francisco, on page 52 of the May 7, 1939 edition of the San Francisco Examiner it said: “Famous throughout Central Europe as opera and concert star, Baritone Arthur Fleischer, a newcomer here, will give a debut recital at the Century Club Thursday evening….Fleischer will sing arias of ‘Don Giovanni,’ ‘Meistersinger,’ Verdi’s ‘Requiem’ and ‘Don Carlos’ and Smetana’s ‘Bartered Bride.’” Helene and Vitali had musical soirees at their home in Vienna – I wonder whether Fleischer ever joined them?

October 29

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Today we have the companion letter to the letter to Harry we saw yesterday; this one is from Helene in Vienna to her 19-year-old daughter Eva in San Francisco.

Clipper 57a                             Vienna, 29 October 1940

My dear Eva-child, I have been spoiled by how quickly the last letters have reached us and so the interval between the last one and today is starting to feel a bit long. Certainly a letter will arrive tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, or the day after that and I will once again find out a little bit about your life. You have a lot to do nowadays my little bunny? A few weeks ago, Papa ran into your teacher Gina who asked all about you. I visited her after that and she was very interested when I described your institute of higher learning. I am supposed to say hello to you from her and her sister. She told me that your card from Istanbul was the last time she heard from you directly. I think a letter from you would make her very happy, especially if you were to tell her about your school. She inquired about how Harry’s progress in just as much detail. She is a fine and good person and there aren’t many like her. Yesterday I visited the old seamstress across from us, the grandmother of your former schoolmate Trude Koch. She told me that her granddaughter has also been away from Vienna for a year now. I sought her out because I wanted to ask if she could rent a room or even just a closet to an old lady who has been living in the home of Frau Clara Friedman up until now. Unfortunately, her apartment is quite full and I could not help the good woman. I also knocked on the door but there was no answer.

On Sunday the old Zentner couple was here to visit us. Unbelievable how agile the old gentleman is and he decided to go straight up to the 4th floor to visit us and even the darkness didn’t seem to bother him much. They have good news about their children and they are looking forward to the time when their number is up to emigrate. Frau Jeck had everything ready for her departure, but apparently she missed the proper date and is still here.

We have snow for the first time today. That’s always a reason for serious observations. How strange that the winter months particularly increase my anxiety for you and my wish to be reunited with you even greater. It’s probably because we didn’t used to be apart from each other so much in the winter. The last ski trip to Radstätter-Tauern and the few days we spent in Kaumberg were just about the only time we hadn’t spent together during the winter months. In the summer it just seemed easier. But don’t think I’m not happy that you’re over there.

I wrote to Lisette last week and asked that she take care of our issues. If it’s still possible, I ask? Olga’s brother was here yesterday. He gave me some letters to read and they weren’t as rosy as before either. It’s pretty lousy in all of Europe. “America, you’ve got it better!”

I read with regret and sympathy that you wanted to go out and spend some time with Tillie but you were unable to do so because of your work. Don’t you have a fixed day of the week that’s free? And Sunday, don’t you even have Sunday free? You were in Mill Valley with Paul last time. Do you spend a lot of time together? In any case, the many invitations that you get together do manage to keep family contact alive.

Papa just told me that he’s ready to leave and for him it is an unwritten law that he only mails things on Friday. Well, apparently I drove my little typewriter workhorse for no reason because the letter is not going to be sent until the 1st anyway.

Kisses, kisses, and more kisses,
Helen

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Note: October 29, 1940 fell on a Tuesday

It’s lovely to see how fondly my mother’s teacher remembered her. Perhaps Gina is Gina Mayer, whose inscription we saw in Eva’s Poesiealbum in the May 18 post.

We may have seen photos of Eva and Paul in Mill Valley in the February 7 post. Despite her sorrow at their separation, it must have lightened Helene’s heart to know that her children regularly saw their older cousin Paul and that other family members welcomed them into their homes..

We hear that people continue to leave Vienna, to plan to leave, or are prevented from leaving. Money is so scarce that finding a spare closet to call home was a luxury.

I have always imagined that this photo of Eva was taken on a ski trip – she’s dressed warmly, drinking a hot beverage, and is wearing sturdy walking shoes. Perhaps this is one of the rare separations Helene mentions.

October 28

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A letter from Helene in Vienna to her 16-year-old son Harry in San Francisco:

Clipper 57                               Vienna, 29 October 1940

My dear Harry boy! Maybe you’re wiping the sweat from your brow and sighing “Boy, is it hot today!” Meanwhile, here we can see the first snow on the roofs. Maybe this is the reason I have been looking out the window more than I usually do. The boy across the way looks like he is fascinated by the unusual scene as well and he is doing the same thing that I am instead of doing his homework. I am taking this opportunity to notice that his similarity to you seems greater every day, at least it seems that way to me. It’s possible that I have such anxiety in my body that Helen is seeing Harry everywhere she looks. But now I want to answer your questions from the last letters you sent.

I see that you find American girls more sophisticated and ambitious. You find them more sophisticated than the Europeans, but I must go to bat for them. It’s not really their fault, it’s the people who brought them up who made them this way. The American girls are more infused with their alleged value than the European girls are. Women are put on such a pedestal over there - it’s a holdover from the time when many men – there because of gold fever – emigrated. There were so few women there - every single one of them was considered a great object of value. In the meantime, the percentages have switched in favor of men, but American women have managed to maintain their position to this day. Even today, the value of a book, a musician, or any other artist is determined by what women have to say. 10 years or so there was a book, the case of Herbert Crump. The description of a typical situation in which a talented, sensitive artist was shattered by the condemnation bestowed on him by the women’s club. The book - a roman à clef - was banned in America. The author had to leave the country and many European writers, well-known and of a certain status, went to bat for him. No book has upset me as much as this one. The next was a book that Everl brought home in 1936 which Paul had enjoyed reading so much. Do you remember? I cannot remember the title anymore, but it took place in Prague.

I think it’s good that you are changing your study to languages, because it’s the only way to find your way through this modern Babel. I am going to forget how to speak at all, because I come into contact with so few people. Do you have an idea of what you will be doing when you finish your school year? Do you also know that I want you to write to me again a description of what you did at Lake Tahoe? There are three and a half months in which I have no idea what my son did. Horrible! Isn’t it?

At my insistence and that of the property manager, Papa got the glass case made. But he wanted to wait 13 days because then it would be the anniversary of the shattering. Now he is quite proud and he goes to work a half an hour early everyday because it takes a lot of time to maintain the new display.

The description of the birthday party inspired me to make a torte and I ate it in your honor. This was much easier because that very day we had 5 dkg per person of coffee. A taste of this inspired our tenant to write a poem, but I think the cake turned out better than the hexameter. He does seem to have noticed that I like this particular kind of poem.

The machine says I’m done now and I have to respect that.

Helen

[around the margins: kisses, kisses, kisses, kisses, kisses, kisses, kisses, kisses, hmmmm, hmmmm, hmmmm, hmmmm, kisses, kisses]

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There was an author named Geoffrey Herbert Crump who was born in 1891. The only information I found on him was that he wrote and wrote about poetry.

This letter contains the only reference I’ve come across in my grandmother’s papers to November 9, 1938 — Kristallnacht — and its effect on my family. It sounds like Vitali chose to keep the shattered shop window boarded up for the past two years as a reminder of the event.

We saw a 1934 photo of the shop window on August 23. Below is another photo with a very different display – date unknown. Every inch of the window is filled with handprints, newspaper articles, mystical sayings and symbols, and mandrake root.

Harry’s Fall 1940 Mission High School report card shows that he has been studying Spanish for a year – it is at least his fourth language. In Vienna, he studied German and Latin, and at Mission he is studying English and Spanish.

It is nice to see how well Helene and Vitali are getting along with the couple who shares their apartment. Earlier letters showed Helene’s trepidation and distaste for this unpleasant, but economically necessary, arrangement. At this point, they seem to have found a way to peacefully coexist and even to enjoy each other’s company.

October 27

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Today we have a letter written by 20-year old soldier Harry Lowell in New Guinea to his 23-year old sister Eva in San Francisco.

New Guinea
October 28, 1944

Dear Eva,

With the war in Europe coming gradually to an end and with the probability in view that I’ll be here in the Southwest Pacific area still, even if the war over there should be over, I am sending in this letter a few instructions and suggestions concerning mother and father. My suggestions will probably correspond with your own ideas about the matter; however, we’ll save ourselves a lot of delaying correspondence in the future if I summarize now all the steps that’ll have to be taken immediately after the completion of the European war. First of all, determine the exact whereabouts of our parents (thru the Red Cross) and, after you have received word of them, send them as much money as is permitted by authorities (probably about $200). If you haven’t got it, try to borrow the amount to save time and let me know right away so that I can send you a money order for the amount sent. Furthermore, advise me of any transaction involving money; be very careful not to fall for any phony or fake relief societies or other possibly shrewd enterprises. (Just a warning, old girl.) Don’t fail to consult Paul about anything if you are not sure about things, he is experienced; also, be sure to consult me, too. I will meet all expenses for transactions, fees, traveling, etc.

Just send me a detailed request. (In case anything should happen to me, you’ll be the recipient of $10,000 which will be paid to you in monthly installments of about $50. On the face of that pension, it would be easy to obtain a large loan if necessary.)

As to the question of support, it’s needless to say that we’ll be able to support our parents. Moreover, stress in the application the fact that father and mother will not accept any work nor in any other way will constitute an economic or social burden (whatever the legal terms may be) to the government. Be sure to mention this because it’s one of the main factors that delay and hold up the processing of applications. I guess you know all the steps that have to be taken in making out applications, affidavits, etc. Let me know if you want me to make out a letter of authorization to authorize you to sign my name. Well sis, you’ll have a job on your hands when the time comes, but I know you’ll carry it out successfully despite the few difficulties you may have to overcome. Keep me posted on everything that you do.

Now that the business part of my letter has been completed, I’ll proceed with the answering of your letters (which I have been receiving quite regularly, save for the last month and a half). I’m glad you finally had a picture taken and I am looking forward to it. (It’d better be a good one!)

As far as that job as a plantation nurse in Hawaii is concerned, I’d advise you to stay away from it for various reasons (other than the ones already mentioned) Your place should be in the states while I am so far off. I’ve spoken.

I was surprised when I read of your experience at the blood bank. After three years of blood-curdling events at the hospital, you weaken at the loss of a pint of blood, tsk, tsk! In regards to your sunburn, I cannot say that I am surprised; as far as I know, it happens to you every time. If it weren’t for the fact that you are my favorite sister, I would trade you in for a radio or a twenty-acre farm. You’ll never learn, will you?

Apropos radio, the other night I listened to Radio Tokyo. After an hour of entertaining (to the ridiculous) propaganda, they broadcasted the performance of “La Bohème” in Nipponese. What a treat that was! In imitating the Met they failed; they murdered that poor little opera thoroughly. 

I don’t think I’ve told you of my postwar plans yet. Here goes. According to the soldiers Bill of Rights, I am entitled to a scholarship at any college for the period of my service in the army, not exceeding four years. Well, my plans are rather Spartan, indeed; it’ll be two or three years of self-discipline and abstinence from worldly pleasures. (What prospects!) I’ll work full time at night and attend college in daytime, which leaves me about ten hours to divide between study and sleep. What do you think of your brother now? (Ain’t I the one though?)

“Gaudeamus igitur, inverses…” – however, it seems that I will not take full advantage of my youth, though that it, I won’t have time to “Sow my wild oats” as is customary for a chap my age. In the future, if you want to see me, you’ll have to either come to my place of employment at night or to watch me sleep during daytime. I’ll be known then as “Harry the unavailable.”

I am expecting your opinion and approval of my plans in your next letter.

I just thought of something you could send me in a package, namely, two pairs of swimming trunks (32), an assortment of dehydrated soups (there is some brand that is sold in a tin foil package. No canned soup!). If there is some room in the box, add a few cans of sardines to it. We make life here more bearable by frequent pot luck picnics; up till now, all I brought to the picnics was a big appetite. (By the way, the fountain pens you sent a long time ago haven’t arrived yet.)

Well, that’s all my pet,

With love,
Harry

P.S. My new address is on the envelope.

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Today’s letter reminds us how quickly Helene’s children had to grow up and that they were not unaware of how much of their childhood was lost. Harry ironically quotes Gaudeamus igitur, an academic and drinking song – given the responsibilities he and his sister are taking on, he acknowledges that he won’t have a chance to sow any wild oats.

By October of 1944, Eva and Harry had been separated from their parents for five years. For the first two years, everyone believed that they would be reunited soon. By the end of 1941, especially after the U.S. entered the war, it was clear that a reunion would not happen anytime soon. From 1942-1943, only a few brief Red Cross letters were exchanged between Vienna and San Francisco. As we saw in the October 15 post, Helene and Vitali were arrested and deported to Ravensbrück and Buchenwald in 1943. By the end of 1944, success by the Allies in Europe seemed not far off. Harry writes to Eva today to make sure they agree how best to expedite their parents’ arrival in America as soon as that might be possible.

Earlier this year, we saw letters where Harry tries to talk his sister out of accepting a job in Saudi Arabia. Today it is Hawaii. Eva dreamed of an exciting life working as a nurse in some faraway place and wanted to emulate Harry’s escape from the expectations of their San Francisco relatives.

Harry has been requesting a photograph from his sister for a few months. We saw the likely portrait in the September 12 post. In the January 21 post, Harry also wrote “Ain’t I the one?” – he must be referring to something familiar to them both, but unknown to me. 

A curtailed childhood is echoed throughout the generations. According to my grandmother’s memories of her family history, her father was born in a small Bohemian town with little to offer. Helene wrote: “One fine day, the oldest son Adolf, then 10 years old, packed his bundle to be off. He had neither money nor any idea where to go but for the fixed plan to go to school wherever he would have an opportunity. At random he chose the road toward Pilsen. At that time there was no railway, but even had such a transportation been available, he wouldn’t have had the money to pay for his fare. He was very tall for his years and didn’t show his age which made it easier for him to get a job which enabled him to attend high school. It was in Pilsen where he found the work he was looking for, as helping hand on the night shift of a liquor factory. He received room and board and some spending money and had so the opportunity to get through high school. Having finished that part of his education, he went on foot to Prague and registered at the college for teachers.”

Helene wrote stories about her own youth, including several chapters that she titled “Child Without Childhood.” Bilin’s rampant anti-Semitism and her sister Ida’s early death forced Helene to grow up quickly. In the World War II letters, we see how quickly Eva and Harry had to grow up.

Interestingly, despite much easier life circumstances, Harry’s son Tim couldn’t wait to grow up to seek adventure. Like his great-grandfather, as a teenager he looked older than his actual age and began working on fishing boats at the age of 12. 

October 24

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Helene says that she sent this letter to her children with the one we saw on October 18.

Clipper #56                                                     Vienna, 24 October 1940

My dear children! With letter #55a, Papa had to pay extra postage but now that it’s written I’m going to include it with this one. In the meantime, your letter #5 of October 10th has arrived. It took only 12 days to get here. That’s fabulous! Isn’t it? So, Everl has already found out that this profession of nursing also has its downside. When she wrote to me her decision to become a nurse, I only saw that but then I was very surprised by the description you provided up to now of your exemplary institution. I hope, however, that your enthusiasm will last, despite the difficult and sometimes unpleasant work. Your description of the ball was so vivid that I felt like I’d been there. Everl said that she danced with an Austrian. Did she meet that doctor from Vienna, or is this a friendship that has come about in San Francisco?

Harry asked quite a few questions which I will answer in the next letter – today I will not have enough time or room for that. I will just say that we are very happy in every way with our sub-tenants. Papa just came home with an “I’m hungry” and I’m going to see what I can do about that, so I’m going to interrupt my writing. After I have solved the stomach question, if I still have time I will continue.

Now I’ve satisfied the guts and I am continuing my report with the feeling the wolf in the fairy tale must have felt when he had eaten the seven little kids and after the grandmother’s operation. You remember this beautiful little story in which the wise grandmother freed the hostages and in their place she sewed 7 rocks into the stomach.

On Seidlgasse, an earth-shattering move will take place. Our Angelo Zamini, who was the most angelic creature in the third district and the most representative stomach of the area, is going to very soon show all this off in a lovely little corner restaurant on Löwengasse. We don’t know if he had a fight with somebody or if the wounds were the problem, but somebody apparently hit him (according to Roswaenge), which worries me. My eyes will weep because they have to look around for another pasture.

I have sent your greetings on to Paula, Jo and Becks and the Stapplers. As undeliverable I must send back those to the Weidlich (tumor), the Fahnenjunker (angina pectoris) and “Herzerl” (delirium tremens) and in the loyal entourage of his neighbors, the tobaccanist (paranoia). Everl, could you maybe ask at the hospital? I’d like to be able to get a vaccination to protect me against various things: hunger, upset, and poverty (the last one just in case). I think I’m immune to everything else.

That’s enough for today. I do need to keep something back for the next letter.

With many kisses
Helen

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It’s impossible for us to know what it was about letter #55a that made it more expensive. It was just one page – perhaps Helene sent something in the envelope?

It is so touching to read how Eva in her letters tried to make sure that her parents felt like they were not missing out on the lives of their children. She describes her studies and work in the hospital – the good and the bad – as well as social activities and the people she was meeting. She sends greetings to friends and neighbors, including Paula whose post-war letters caused Helene such hope and consternation. In the list of ungreeted people, Helene may be listing professions rather than names.

I briefly tried to find something on Angelo Zamini, but came up empty-handed. Nothing in the 1939 Viennese directory or newspapers. I assume he must have run a restaurant or pub near their apartment on Seidlgasse. Löwengasse was just a few blocks away and currently there are at least two pizzerias – perhaps one of those was the same location as his new restaurant.

October 23

 First Impressions 

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I am always thrilled to see letters written by my mother and to “hear” her young voice. In this letter from October 23, 1939, 18-year old Eva is writing to her cousin Paul Zerzawy. We see her first impressions San Francisco. If I didn’t live here already, I would want to visit! 

San Francisco, October 23

Dear Paul!

Aunt Bertha was disappointed that we arrived without you. I told the story to the committee, although it wasn’t necessary. From the beginning, it was neither listened to nor was even mentioned as a formality. I think you will like it here. The whole house reminds me of a dollhouse, both the size and the furnishings.

Hilda’s house is also sort of a miniature like this one, but it is somewhat more modern. Both homes are in rather exclusive residential areas, but they are on different sides of the city.

Since the exposition is going to close at the end of this week, we went on the first day. I like it better than the one in New York. It is quite similar in character but it is not so big. The external impression is much sweeter and more romantic. The emphasis is on fountains, lakes, and flowers. It is similar to the impression the city makes.

What I have seen so far reminds me quite a bit of Istanbul. The city is rather scary and has many streets which are so steep that you can’t really walk without slipping. Yesterday and the day before yesterday, it was hot weather like in the middle of summer, but now suddenly it has made way for fall weather. Bertha says that the climate here is usually like that.

Now I am at the beginning of the story when I am actually ending. So, the story of the journey – it actually was somewhat boring. It was however wonderfully relaxing to just sit in this nice train. In Chicago we thought we could see the city, but we apparently just ended up in a very poor neighborhood. There was almost no light to be found. Only when we got closer to the train station did we see the beautiful lights of the city.

So that you don’t get lost when you leave the train station, go out on the left side.

For today I will end with best greetings from Aunt Bertha and me.

Most sincerely
Eva

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After sailing to America on board the Rex, Eva and Harry were met in New York by their cousin Paul Zerzawy and then boarded the train to go to San Francisco. Upon arrival in San Francisco, Eva and Harry were split up to stay with different relatives – Eva with Bertha and George Schiller, and Harry with Hilda and Nathan Firestone. Since they lived in different parts of the city, they attended different high schools.

In their few days in New York, they attended the world’s fair. Since the Golden Gate International Exposition on Treasure Island was about to close when they arrived in San Francisco, they immediately visited and Eva shares her impressions here. Within just a few weeks, Harry and Eva got to attend two world’s fairs. What an introduction to life in the United States! 

Below are two photos from the San Francisco exposition:

October 18

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A letter from Helene in Vienna to her children Eva and Harry in San Francisco:

Clipper 55a                             Vienna 18 October 1940

My dear children! Haha, I have also gotten some new paper. In other words, Papa just bought 1000 sheets for me and I would actually be able to write letter #55 but I have neither the inclination nor the time. What I’m still missing is anything to write about, and everything is just going along as usual. I dreamed I lay down in a bed that Eva had made and slept wonderfully, although my daughter had somehow folded the sheets into something resembling a lampshade. I shyly made her aware of this but Everl said “Mom, you just don’t get it. The creases in this are a type of central heating or they can be an air conditioner.” I was perfectly happy then and fell asleep. When I woke up, I had the natural explanation for this strange dream. My feet were sticking like icicles out from under the cover which had fallen down. Clattering from the cold, I pulled the top part of it over my head and I felt like I was laying on the central heating but my poor feet were enjoying the air conditioning. There was this wonderful feeling I had only because I was dreaming about Eva. The second half of the night continued with the attempt to find some sort of equilibrium between the Equator and the North Pole. The result was quite pathetic. Cold feet are an indication of great loyalty. Their only competition is a stuffy nose, but it’s really not the season for that yet. We’ve had a beautiful fall here which seems to making up for what the summer did. Actually, the summer didn’t do anything wrong. It just passed us by and forgot about us. Strange that something can happen in nature like that. In the evenings and the mornings it is bitterly cold, but in the middle of the day and early in the afternoon the sun is so strong that some people can sit outside.

Last year we had already had to use the heat for three weeks at this time and I am so glad that we can save so much on fuel this year and not have to use so much of our material to burn for heat. The horrible cold last year was probably just a harbinger of the coming winter. I’m sure other people have such pipe dreams, just like I do.  

I ask Harry because he has such a close relationship to the newspaper, to publish his Gazettes again; otherwise, I will lose my instinct for reading a newspaper. Your letters from the last few weeks were really the only thing I had time to read because I was so busy with the work going on on our house. Yesterday I unwrapped our entrance door which had been wrapped up in paper for weeks, but our painter was quite an artist. He managed to get the door under the paper splotched with paint. I washed it until my skin felt like sandpaper, peeling down on the door. Paul may want to write a few notes for your newspaper since I will probably not live to see the publication of his collected works.

I am reading Everl’s descriptions of her anatomy classes from the point of view of someone who has meat coupons. Fibula = 4 times as much; lung, heart and liver = you get the whole amount without any bones in it, etc., etc.  

Fortunately, I can’t think of anything else and I am going to end this letter with a concert of kisses. Greetings to all the dear ones and I will write to them separately soon.

Helen

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Despite having new paper for letter writing, Helene follows letter #54 from October 11 with #55a -- a shorter-than-usual letter, which she doesn’t deem worthy its own full number. Helene begs Harry to send one of his “gazettes” – the only example I have is one he sent from Istanbul that we saw in the June 6 post. In the March 8 post, Helene mentions receiving two illustrated letters from earlier in the year. His “relationship” with newspapers was as a delivery boy.

As is often the case, Helene fills her letter with humorous musings. Yet, beneath it all, we can feel the cold winter coming, the meager food available, and her yearning to be with her children again.

October 17

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

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

The YMANDOS in Action

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

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

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

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

Hand to Hand
It’s an Art

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

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

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

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

Caption for the bottom 3 photos:

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

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

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

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

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

October 15

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DOOMS-DAY, OCTOBER 15, 1943

In addition to hundreds of letters, Helene wrote a number of stories and reminiscences, mostly during the 1950s while she was in San Francisco. She often wrote more than one draft – the following knits together several of her drafts. Helene’s writing about the horrors she experienced look and sound very different from the stories of her youth – they are single-spaced and feel very intense and immediate. By November 5, 1943 Helene was imprisoned in Ravensbrück and Vitali in Buchenwald.

The small group of about 60 Jews of Turkish nationality (the fate of those of German, Austrian or other origin is universally known) learned by a rumor which spread like a wildfire over Vienna that they had to leave Austria within a fortnight. That was on October 1, 1943.

My husband and I were rather astonished when some of our non-Jewish friends, who lived in different districts told us over the phone that they incidentally heard about a Gestapo-decision concerning the Turkish Jews, and wanted to know if there is something in it as the story goes. Some invited us to come in their house, which we gratefully refused in case it would be true, it would have been too dangerous to them. At first, we thought it was merely a false alarm, or it was one of the notorious Nazi jokes of which the German-Supermen have been so very fond of. Maybe the Gestapo spread this news to have some fun in scaring people who were in a trap. Playing cat and mouse (a nice and favored entertainment for the gallant nation of heroes). If it was not a joke, then it was bestiality in the most cruel form, coward and hypocrite. Every child has known that to leave the country was impossible, because all the borders were closed, and even if those people had had valid passports (which they did not have), they could not leave Austria, because none of the satellite states had granted them a transit-visa. Not even Switzerland. They were too afraid of Germany. So was the situation of this bunch of people whose crime was to be born as Jews. They would have shaken off the dust of their sandals, and their sandals too already if there had been the slightest opportunity.

Who knows? Perhaps there was still a grain of verity in that Tartar-tidings. In spite of the early hours, my husband and I found the ante-room to the office of the Consulate General crowded with people who got the alarming news as we got acquainted with the Hiobs-message [Hiobsbotschaft = terrible news]. The inquiries showed that indeed such an ukase was issued, but that was not for the first time, one of the Vice-Consuls said, indicating that Berlin for 5 years harped on this subject, and nothing ever happened to the Jews of Turkish origin. “Food never will be eaten as hot as it cooked.” [may be a version of a line attributed to Heinrich Müller, a high level Nazi official: “Soup is never eaten as hot as it is cooked.” in The SS, Alibi of a Nation, 1922-1945 by Gerald Reitlinger]    The consolation was well-meant and sincere, but not too convincing. The Consul General showed much consideration and would have liked to help, if help would have been possible. His countenance expressed Goethe’s: Noble man should be helpful and kind.

With Hitler’s entry into Austria, the Turkish Embassy has ceased to be a beautiful building, in the same room was the Turkish Consulate General established. The Diplomatic staff and the office personnel were mostly the same, but the Turkish Ambassador was recalled, and a Consul-General appointed, who unfortunately had not the same plenary authority as the ambassador. All directions came from Berlin. The small number of Turkish Jews were the rest of one, once-upon-a-time big and rich colony, which was very significant for the Export and Import Trade between Turkey and Austria before and after World War I. The majority of the well-to-do Oriental Rug Dealers, brokers, and importers said good-bye to Vienna as soon as Hitler came to power in Germany in 1933.

Actually, that small bunch of Turkish Jews was protected by the Turkish authority in Vienna from 1938 until 1941, in spite of Hitler’s parole: it was an act of humanity, de facto the God-forsaken group was stateless by a decree of the Turkish Government, saying that all the Turkish subjects living in foreign countries who have not entered Turk territory became expatriated. This decision was retrospective because nobody in Vienna knew about it, otherwise they would have had plenty of time to leave Austria; their children were born there and attended Viennese schools, and all were over-optimistic; like the Austrian people, they didn’t believe in Hitler’s conquering Austria. That was their fatal mistake.

My husband was furnished with his military papers showing that he served in the Turk army under Kemal pasha of Gallipoli.

The Consul General intervened on their behalf as often as any necessity occurred, except in residential cases, viewing that this would have been an interference in affairs of the German authorities. Until June 1941, the T.J. [Turkish Jews] were not much more bothered than those Austrian “Aryans” known to the Gestapo as Non-Nazis. They did not have to wear the yellow star on their garments, could even stay in a park if they wanted to, could ride the street car, privileges the native Jews didn’t have. The discrimination consisted of ration cards for food-stuffs. The Jews received cards with the ominous letter “J” which exempted them from the purchase of so-called valuable victuals such as eggs, “tea” (substitute of course) which was not too hard, because the receiver of ration cards without “J” didn’t get those items either because they were available on paper only. They were also exempted from the ration-card for smoking materials.

With the entry of the USA into the war, things changed. The first observance of the Hitler doctrine “Jew is Jew” was put into practice, that by decree the T.J. were to be evicted without delay. The Wohnungsamt — that branch of the Gestapo which had evidence about any place called “habitation” — badly needed places for the invaders from the Reich (Germans who invaded Vienna locust-like). It was their business to find a roof over their head – if not ,the Gestapo had moved away their furniture. They were only allowed to live in the Leopoldstadt — the Viennese Ghetto — which had a long time ago ceased to be a Ghetto. The former inhabitants, if they were still alive, populated the concentration camps. Several families had to live in 2-3 room apartments with one kitchen, bedrooms separated by a folding screen or curtain. Such mass quarters were occupied by people who had not been on speaking terms before. The number of people who had to live in such a close community depended on square measures.[?]

Incompatibility grows quickly in such a dense and involuntary Wohngemeinschaft [shared flat/communal living], and in such a nerve-racking time even with friends. That life was hell, but compared with the existence fate had in store for them, it was paradise.

That the boisterous, demanding Austrian people disparaging “brothers” from the Reich were not warmly welcomed by some landlords was no consolation to those who had to give up their homes in their favor.

For two weeks life went on as before, only that the frightened people idled in the ante-room of the Consulate, too afraid to be on the street or in “their homes”. This building was extraterritorial and the arm of the Gestapo couldn’t fetch them as long as they were there.

On one of these exciting days even when no arresting had taken place — the calm before the storm — my husband said to me: “You traveled a lot with the children; several times you took Family-passports. You even had a Tev [?] Have you kept them? I had, and my husband went to the Consulate again. He treasured and said that it would be possible for me to get a passport to enter Turkey but not for him. I was a Turkish-Subject (subject, not citizen) by marriage, married in Vienna and registered as Turkish. I refused to leave my husband alone. Our children were saved and at this time fortunately American Citizens already, my son — we learned from the last letter delivered to us — enlisted in the army.

October 13

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Like the letter we saw yesterday, today we have a letter written in old German script to his sister Eva. Both letters were sent from San Diego where he was recovering from an illness he contracted serving in the South Pacific. Yesterday’s letter was written on official USO stationery, while today’s was on Christian Science Service Center – the center appears to be one of the many places in San Diego mentioned by Harry that provided a welcome and resources to soldiers.

13 October, 1945

Dearest little Eva!

I haven’t received your letter in which you criticized my Erlking [Elf King] and I must say that I am very surprised by your lack of sense of humor. What is your complaint, my dear lady? Hell and damnation! Did you really think that I was responsible for such a murder of the Elf King? My own sister!

Many thanks for the dictionary.

Speaking of critiquing – after I put my last letter in the mail box, I remembered that I was mistaken in one of the expressions that I used. Instead of “press your thumbs”, I should have said “hold your thumb.” I humbly beg your pardon. Such a mistake will not be made again.

I want to draw your attention to the fact that I am writing this letter without a dictionary. I know that applauding yourself stinks, but you have to admit that I have not entirely forgotten my German.

(🎵 Do you know the country where the lemon trees bloom...?...tra la la”🎵)

My plan is to ride with some of the others tomorrow to Mexico. The hospital will provide us with horses. I have an inkling that on Monday I will have a callus on my rear end.

The … of Aunt Matilda was very good. Quite a coincidence, n’est-ce pas?

How is it going with my married sister and brother-in-law? Are the dear relatives still on the warpath with you? You have no idea how much you’re losing out on because of that.

San Diego is a miserable city. There’s nothing better to entertain a serviceman than many drinking establishments and prostitutes and such. About a week ago I went to the zoo and spent a whole afternoon there. From now on, I will stay in the hospital and will have fun with the horses. We also have a pretty good swimming pool that we can use every day.

As far as my health is concerned, I am on the road to recovery and I hope to be discharged from the hospital very soon.

Your favorite brother

Harry

P.S. Many greetings to the family. (Heinrich, you’re terrifying me!) (you ain’t a’kiddin’)

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When Amei Papitto translated the letter, she pointed out that Harry had been correct in the original letter when he used the German expression akin to our “cross your fingers.” In German, they say “press your thumbs” which Harry used correctly in the previous letter October 11 post. Here, he corrects himself, but incorrectly. Amei mused that perhaps Harry and Eva had some childhood memory of using the wrong expression – I like that idea – that he is referring to the past that only they share.

In this letter, Harry harks back to their mother’s beloved Goethe three times – letting his sister know that their mother is present in his thoughts as they work to bring her to the U.S.

The first Goethe reference is to a poem referring to a German legend about an Elf King which was set to music by Franz Schubert.

Second, quoting the poem “Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn?" from his second novel Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship. which was set to music by Robert Schumann and Franz Schubert. Johann Strauss II wrote a waltz inspired by the poem.

Finally, in the postscript he quotes Goethe’s Faust, the same quote he uses on the back of an undated photo which we saw in the March 27 post:

PH.0695.1945

October 12

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Today’s letter was written by G.I. Harry Lowell to his sister Eva while he was recovering from a tropical illness at an army hospital in San Diego. This is one of a few letters he wrote in German. When my friend Roslyn translated the letters a few years ago, she had trouble deciphering his handwriting. It was only in preparing my posts for October that I realized that he had written in the old German script and I asked translator Amei Papitto to look at them. Phrases written in English are in italics.

6 October 1945

My dearest little sister!

The pitiful condition of my fountain pen forces me to write this letter with a pencil. I am writing this letter from the one of many USO writing rooms in San Diego.  

I just received the pictures back which I had taken during my leave. I will enclose in this envelope some of the pictures that will interest you. Despite the dim light in your apartment, the photos came out pretty good.

Since my last letter, nothing has changed here. The weather is still the same and I cannot complain about the treatment by Uncle Sam. It seems that I have to stay for about another two months in this hospital. All of my hopes lie in the possibility that I will be dismissed from the army before the end of next year. So there we have to cross our fingers [I am amazed at my memory (in German, the expression is “press your thumbs”)]. I need several hours of memory refreshment (holy mackerel, what a long word!) in order to master my mother tongue again.

Sometimes it is difficult for me to remember this or that word. Then it takes me a few minutes until I find the missing word in the dictionary of my brain. Please send me your German-English dictionary.

How is my brother-in-law doing? (it took me a hell of a long time to remember the translation for b-in-law). Even his criticism of my German language ability is more than welcome.

“Won’t you feed the little lamb,
The little lamb so gentle and good.”

This is all for today. Every time I’m in a grumpy mood, it’s better to end my letter. I’m professing my brotherly love and I remain your charming brother

Harry

P.S. I dare you to answer me in German. Good luck.

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According to one website, “USO clubs served coffee, cookies, donuts and sandwiches, but no alcohol. They offered stationery to write letters, bunks to take naps, services to mend uniforms and the latest phonograph records.”

Like his mother so often did in her letters, Harry makes a literary reference, recalling Der Alpenjäger, a poem by Schiller that was set to music by Schubert.

The only photo I have of Harry in an apartment is of him ironing his uniform – perhaps this is what he is referring to?

October 11

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Today we have two letters from 1940 from Helene in Vienna: the first to her children and the second to her nephew Paul. Eva is in her first year of nursing school and Harry is a senior at Washington High School. Paul is trying to eke out a living as a piano teacher and accompanist.

Clipper # 54                Vienna, 11, October 1940

Children, my beloved children! If the sun were not shining in a summery way and the trees did not have such fresh green foliage, I would believe that it was Christmas because the day before yesterday was so full of pleasant surprises. Within 24 hours we got 3 letters from you, each one delighting us more than the last. The first thing I got was a letter from Hilda written on September 19. In quite a funny way she told about you and Paul and her letter really improved my mood. While I was still studying her letter (deciphering it is really quite a difficult course of study), the next mail arrived and your letter #4 from September 26th and I was absolutely swimming in bliss. I left everything else sitting where it was and I ran as fast as I could through torn up Marx Street to Papa at the shop. The next morning, letter #3 from September 19th appeared. I cannot imagine a happier person than I am right now. We laughed until we cried about Eva’s anecdote #1 and I had to think of the cannibalistic text of the cross-polka. It’s a dance which my older sisters learned which was en vogue then, among the dances that were typical in those days, might be described as the jitterbug that Harry loved so much. The text which the residents of Bilin put to this melody, and I believe there was only one, went something like this [in Bilin dialect]: 

“Oh look there he comes,
He’s taking very big steps.
Here he comes again,
The drunken son-in-law
He finds a woman,
He cuts open her body
He takes her lung and liver out
And makes a great big beefsteak out of it.”

It’s a good thing that your lecturer on operations is not from Bilin, because he might possibly follow the instructions in that song. Maybe Paul still remembers the polka. By the way, talking about polka! Is Eva taking up her piano lessons again? Is she going to do the funeral marches for the hospital? Your hospital surely has its own cemetery, doesn’t it? The geographic anatomy knowledge of your fellow student we found very amusing, as did the washwomen anecdote. We found the geometric knowledge of Harry’s classmate equally amusing. Of course, I give my vote to Harry L. Lowell for board of education! With his usefulness in so many ways, he could be a porter, office-boy, newspaper boy, all that might be possible in the land of unlimited possibilities. A career worth of a Hearst, if not a president. 

We have nothing interesting to tell you. We used to go to the anniversary observation point, the Hapsburg observation site, and all the observation points as they used to be. Today the points are coming to us [makes a pun in German - observation points/guards]. Now the guards come to us - the house guard, the block guard, and all the other kinds of guards and so we have all sorts of visits.

Our renters are quiet, well-brought up and educated people, with whom it’s pretty easy to live under one roof. We finally sort of agreed that I will do the cooking, my renter will wash the dishes, but drying them and keeping the kitchen in order will be my job.

Everything is okay here at the apartment, but everybody who comes here seems to bring all sorts of dirt into my apartment and there’s plenty of opportunity for that because the stairway has been painted recently. On one of the freshly painted walls, there was a giant modern eagle painted. It’s a good thing Harry wasn’t home anymore because they probably would have thought he did it. At his request, I looked up the old cashier from the movie house nearby. She has now become a nice young man [presumably a new cashier, now male]. But I now must tell you a funny story because we’re talking about the movie theater. Last time we were there, the following happened: the newsreel had just ended and instead of the movie we heard “come out, come out”. They turned the light on and the usher repeated “come on out, come on out, come on out, get out of here.” The one who was meant by this seemed not to move. First, we thought a Jewish boy had smuggled himself in there where he wasn’t allowed, but this didn’t seem to have been the case. The usher bellowed “come out, I said!” The culprit seemed not to pay any attention to this order. The usher lost patience with him and he decided to use brute force against him and yanked a young man out of one of the front rows by his arm. Now a few excitable 14-year old boys took up his cause and using their Vienna soccer jargon said “let him out, let him out I say!” And right in the middle of all of this kerfuffle a guard showed up. When the unruly boy saw the eye of the law, he quietly followed the keeper of order out. A few seconds later with a triumphant expression, he went into the audience. Admittance to this film was strictly forbidden to young people under the age of 16. The young hero of my story was however exactly 16 years and 2 days old. So, there was a lot of satisfaction among the 14-15 year old boys who had made some ruckus before. After this exciting scene (which was, by the way, the most amusing thing that happened that evening) the film did run but it got a late start.

Eva wanted to know why I sent a return envelope. Well Paul surely has to write to a lot of people and he probably doesn’t have much money. He shouldn’t be mad at me that I write a few lines to him to put in your letter. I’ve told him so often that I am happy when he adds a few lines to your letters when he doesn’t have time for more than that. I am leaving you now to deal with Paul and I leave you with many kisses. By the way, the number of kisses that you send seems to be affected by inflation. I don’t want to fall behind so I’m sending you 1,000,000,000,000,000 kisses.

Helen

Dear Paul! I was brought up too well to remind anyone of the old promise, but if anybody should should happen to know how much someone would like to be heard from maybe such a person might send a little bit more.

Hilda sent a vivid description of your family life and I was really happy to get that, especially the kindness that you experience in the Firestone house. Unfortunately I can’t answer this delightful letter today because I need quite a bit more time than I have to write back in English. Today I just don’t have time. I want to do that on Sunday and that’s my plan. Hilda must be a real treasure. Tillie and Bertha told me that they were sure I would like her if I knew her. I do, even though I don’t know her personally, and from what I can tell from letters, she seems to be a person with a lot of charm and it would be wonderful for me if you would tell me more about her and her husband. But please don’t forget to report back on everything you like to do. Also, if you’ve heard anything from Robert.

From Harry’s last letter, I understand that you had something to do with sending me money. Paul, I thank you but that’s really not okay with me because I know you work so hard to earn it and you don’t have much yourself. I hereby promise you, on my honor, that I will ask you for help if I need it, but at the moment I don’t.

I am so happy that the children are so well cared for and of course it is my wish and intention to be able to do this myself and I would like to show gratitude [in person] to the relatives. I hope that it’s still possible in this lifetime.

A snippet of your life and work would make me so happy and would be very interesting to me. Also, if you perhaps have heard something from old friends and also about your new friends. I want to know everything, I want to know details. That’s only a modest proposal, right? Otherwise, I don’t need anything except that I would hope that you would greet the Zentners, Schillers, Firestones, and Sol from me.

With warm greetings and kisses
Your
Helene

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After getting a windfall of mail from her beloved family, Helene is positively ebullient in this letter. Yet, there are indications that life in Vienna is stressful and dangerous, particularly for Jews. I could not find a reference for the song Helene recalled from her childhood, but did find a reenactment of the cross-polka. Helene writes of America being the “land of unlimited possibilities” — it certainly was for her children, but she was less enthusiastic about it once she arrived six years later.

October 10

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Today’s letter is from 1941 from Helene in Vienna to her children in San Francisco.

Vienna, 10 October 1941

My dear children! Hopefully, even before this letter reached, you were already able to send us a message that our matter has been definitively and positively taken care of. If that was not possible, we hope that you can send us a letter to that effect after the receipt of my letter today. Which is really necessary in case your news should reach us here. We have to plan for all eventualities. There is a housing shortage and it is leading to some unusual arrangements. The neighbors just said their good-byes, probably forever. I wonder whether the disabled woman will be able to handle the different climate? We are in excellent health. We would just be glad to make room for others. I enjoyed living here, but when they don’t want us, I don’t want to stay, and I will leave, preferably of my own free will, or go where we want to, not where someone wants to send us.

I haven’t received any letters, although I have written not only to you but also to Paul, Tillie, and Hilda. Do you have Olga’s address? It is Alter Kornmarkt 16. I am really hungry for a few lines from you and I hope I will get mail from you soon. The old Zentners were over here yesterday. They get news regularly. 

See you later my dears and I hope all goes well with you, okay? Paul should oil his brain machine and invent some sort of way by which we can take you into our arms soon.

I love and kiss you.

P.S. I have tried in the last letters to arrange, if nothing else should be possible, for us to emigrate to Cuba, and notify us by telegraph immediately should you have gotten one of our letters from us. Papa feels strong enough to be able to pay back all costs as soon as we have gotten ourselves on our feet in Cuba.

Helen

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In her previous letter, Helene makes it clear that getting out of Vienna is becoming virtually impossible. She and Vitali decide that Cuba might be a more viable destination than California.

This is the last regular correspondence that Eva and Harry received from Helene from Vienna. I have no idea when their parents lost hope of being able to leave Vienna – the former city of Helene’s dreams, which has become the source of her nightmares. Once the U.S. entered the war,  the children received a few Red Cross letters (see May 12 and September 18 posts).

October 9

Voyage to America – young and carefree

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here is a photo of Harry on board the ship:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

October 7

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Today we see another letter from Helene to her children in San Francisco.

Vienna, 7 October 1941

My dear children!

Well today although I know that you are working on our issues, despite that I am going to start talking about it again. So please don’t believe we are impatient. You can just assume that this matter is really urgent and that it’s getting more so from day to day and even hour to hour. Papa has given me the assignment to write to you that if there is no other way besides the path via Cuba, then you should go down this path as well. Papa has absolutely no doubts that he will be able to use his knowledge as a tobacco expert and then be able to reimburse any expenditures. Do you remember? Robert, who was really just a cigarette smoker, was enthusiastic about the sample cigars which Papa’s correspondent sent to him. We have come to terms with the fact that we may need to stay wherever we end up for a while at least where he has the possibility of making his livelihood. To live with you in the same city certainly would be wonderful, but it’s something we can only do when we have paid off the expenses that people have paid on our behalf. Papa is a specialist and this will happen. Unfortunately, he has been out of touch with his friends in his profession since the war broke out, but we know that they will give him a hand as soon as we’re over there. I must emphasize the request that I have also made in letters in the past to send us a telegraph if you have any positive news to tell us. It’s possible that the cable might be of use to us or we might need it as a document. Besides that, all of our exit documents for travel have expired. It doesn’t make much sense to renew them unless we know that it’s a done deal. The renewal of the papers will take quite a while, so it’s very important that we start working on it even before we have everything in black and white in our hands. Many of our friends and acquaintances are going to the district where Paul’s friend Edi has his business, but they are not happy because they are afraid that the climate will not agree with them.

We are - well, that’s nothing new - here without any mail from you for a long time. Our acquaintances do get mail regularly and so we’re thinking maybe the fact that we don’t get any is because we have foreign citizenship. But we haven’t heard anything from the relatives in Istanbul for at least a year either.

Papa just brought me a piece of paper which he got in the religious community: “get Cuba papers for entry as soon as possible.” This is from the Cuban Embassy in Berlin – send a telegram for immediate processing.

Robert is supposed to send the address of Papa’s friend Drummond, which he will be able to make use of as soon as we land over there.

In my letter of March 21st, I asked you to get 2 brochures for Papa. Since you didn’t react, Papa really needs these - I am repeating: “The Mystic Mandrake” by C.J.S. Thompson and “Deadly Magic” by Colonel Hayter - both appeared in Rider Publications and the address of that is: International News Company, 131 Varick St., New York.

OK, that’s enough duties for you to fulfill today and I will send more information later on. I close by assuring you that we are in good health and we hope that it will stay that way. I long for news from you.

Please give everybody my best greetings, and I will write to Hilda and Bertha soon. How is Tillie’s brother? Is Everl’s friend already spoken for or perhaps married already? Please answer these questions too. I’d like to get the address of Al and Maxine.

I kiss and greet you most sincerely and I ask you not to be mad that we ask so much of you and we’re causing you so much of an inconvenience. At the same time, I can’t even say that I’d rather be doing all this for you, and dealing with the trouble. I don’t know if I’d want to take that on. I am happy that it’s the other way around. A few more kisses! 

Helen

P.S. Harry’s address!

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Helene and Vitali’s plans for traveling on July 15 to the U.S. did not materialize and theyare trying their best to find a way out of Europe. As has been true since German occupation, nothing is easy or straightforward. The rules and goalposts keep changing just as Helene says – day by day and hour by hour. They had pinned all their hopes on being reunited with their children in San Francisco. By this point, they are ready to go anywhere and have set their sight on Cuba. I found a movie trailer about what happened to some of the Jews who successfully made it to Cuba.

Vitali continues to emerge as an unusual man – in addition to his interest in metaphysical matters, according to Helene he was also an expert on tobacco products, or at least cigars. We learn that Robert’s smoking habit from 1918 (see October 3 post) continued at least another 20+ years.

Apparently Harry and Eva never received the March 21 letter requesting books on mandrake root – it is not in my archive. Both books from the 1930s are extremely rare. There is little information readily available about F.J. Hayter, who was an anthropologist and wrote primarily about Australia.

October 4

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Helene writes from Vienna to her children in San Francisco. They have been separated from each other for a year.

Vienna, 2 October 1940

My dear sweeties! I will have to use all of my powers of persuasion to get Papa to mail the letter because he thinks it’s “immoral” to write letters when you’re not going to get an answer. Since I have a very different view of “morality” in this context, I will insist that the letter gets mailed today.

The rather deep bend on our floor has done so much damage that the work is still not finished. The new floorboards stand out from the old ones quite a bit, and the masonry provided such protection out of this that I had to have the carpenter strip off the floor because it wouldn’t have served to have things rubbing against everything. The carpenter made me a dance floor which I’m sure my daughter would have been delighted at and my son probably would have wanted to dance. Unfortunately, I don’t know what to do with it and I just have the satisfaction that people can see that I’ve really been cleaning thoroughly.

When I pick Papa up in the evening for our usual walk which usually takes us across the quay to the Rotenturm Street, your father always asks me if I have bought my daughter’s built-in soap dish for the bathroom, which is still highly recommended by the Schwadron Brothers. Especially since we now have a sketch of Everl’s room, this acquisition seems particularly important to him. I will see soon what I can do about that.  

Please don’t forget to give all of our loved ones our most warm greetings and best wishes and to assure them of my love and gratitude.

Embracing you with all my heart, I am your
Helen

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When she translated this letter, Roslyn pointed out that there is now a restaurant chain in Vienna called Zuckergoscherl - for sweet tooth – the pet name Helene uses to address her children. Helene gives a brief account of their lives, emphasizing how just about everything she and Vitali do reminds them of their children. The children also try to include their parents as much as they can – in a recent letter, Eva sent a sketch of her bedroom so they could imagine her living quarters.

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 26

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Helene writes from Vienna to her children via Eva in San Francisco.

Vienna, 26 September 1941

My dear children! I am in the pleasant situation today to be able to tell you that I have received a letter from the 2nd of this month. However, we can cross out the ones that are from the 23rd of July to the 2nd of September. But Everl’s letter contained quite a few things worth knowing. For example, we know that our letters have arrived and I am not forced to foolishly repeat everything as I have been; I know that you are working on our very pressing matter, that Harry is still in Sacramento but unfortunately I don’t have his address and so I have not been able to write to him even once. I was quite shocked to hear that cousin Al is still not out of the woods health-wise. Everl, I am grateful that you wrote to me that I should write to Tillie directly. I am not mad at you, I am, rather, thankful. You just have to bear in mind from the many letters that I have written that those that you wrote to me probably contained details were never received. If I write about things that I was informed about but of which I still have no idea, it is because I didn’t get the letters – you might assume that I am not interested or that I am just quite superficial. I therefore ask you, in your interest, to clarify this. I have received quite a few letters in the last few years, not only from Tillie but also from Bertha Schiller. I’ve written to Stella without receiving any answer. Everl, you yourself wrote that Tillie is so busy with Julius’s correspondence that she doesn’t have time to answer. And it is not a matter of affront to my vanity that I have given up on writing to them directly lately, because I assume that Tillie who is being kept up to date by you doesn’t really value this direct, brief contact with me. Hilda also owes me quite a few letters and why even bother to talk about Paul anymore. I can hardly count the number of letters that I have written to him. He has germs that keep him from doing anything that absolutely has to be done. You can tell him that I am very disappointed in him. He can follow my example. I have gotten over my pathological dislike of writing letters and now I write letters even when I’m completely exhausted. My letters probably seem like that, but what did it matter when I got a “pinch” from your professors. The main thing is that you understand me and that the letters arrive. At first, I was bothered by the knowledge that other people were reading our letters, but I’ve even gotten used to that and the Mr. Censors should turn a blind eye to that if they find my spelling or my grammatical errors a problem.

I had quite a bit to tell you today, but I don’t have time. I will follow up next time. Heartfelt greetings and kisses.

Helen

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As I read many of my grandmother’s letters this year, I felt the guilt her children and relatives must have felt every time Helene was disappointed when she didn’t hear from her loved ones. In today’s letter, I recognize something that often happens– when one is unhappy with someone’s behavior, more often than not the person one vents to is an innocent party – one communicates one’s displeasure to the person who shows up, rather than the one(s) who didn’t. So, ever-reliable Eva hears all about the letters not received from Paul, Harry, Tillie, and Hilda.

This is one of the few letters where Helene acknowledges the fact of the censors – I always thought she avoided mentioning them for fear that her letters wouldn’t go through. At this point she realizes how often her letters don’t reach their destination, so she has given up being discreet.

September 24

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

Vienna, 24 September 1940

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friday, 27 Sept. 1940

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

September 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.