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


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]


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.


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 26

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Sister and Brother 

This photo from October (or November?) 28, 1926 shows Eva at 5-1/2 and Harry at 2-3/4 years old. The photo was taken at the Hella Katz photo studio, which was located at Stubenring 18, a short walk from their stationery store at Stubenring 2 – a photo of the store’s location can be seen in the June 11 post.

Helene’s children had a special shared history. As children in Vienna, they saw the city through their mother’s eyes – a magical place filled with music and conversation. At the same time, they experienced anti-Semitism in school and never felt that they fit in – in addition to being Jewish, their father was foreign, which made them foreign too. They were Turkish citizens, yet never visited Istanbul until going there in 1939 to get passports. They left their parents and Europe behind in 1939 to come to the U.S., where they lived apart with American relatives who seemed to have no understanding of their experience. They became Americans as quickly as possible, in order to fit in and to hopefully find a home where they felt welcome and safe. This was far easier for Harry, who immediately lost his accent. Eva had a German accent all her life, so the moment she opened her mouth, people knew she was not from here.

Eva adored her brother, who brought her joy throughout her life. Although they lived relatively near each other, for the most part, they lived very separate lives. However, I think that the place that most felt like home for them was with each other.

I believe this photo must have been taken on Treasure Island at the Golden Gate International Exposition — see October 23 post:

Photos of Eva and Harry from the 1920s to 2011:

October 25

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This letter concerns Helene’s application for reparations from the German government.

28 October 1955

RE: Reparations
Regarding: Your letter from 28 August 1955

With reference to your above-mentioned letter, we inform you of the following: Since you never had your place of residence in the area of application of the law, and especially not in the state of Rhineland-Palatinate, the eligibility requirements of §8.1 were not fulfilled, and so the state of Rhineland-Palatinate cannot be claimed for compensation.

However, you cannot assert any claims as being persecuted from the displaced areas, as stateless or political refugees or as nationally persecuted.

Stateless persons and political refugees are not entitled to claim under §§71-75 as you are neither a political refugee according to the agreement of July 28, 1951 on the legal status of refugees, nor stateless persons in the sense of §71, because you have Turkish citizenship today, just as you did then.

The prerequisites for making a claim under the Federal Supplementary Act are not met.

On behalf of:


This letter highlights the cruelty and Catch-22 of Helene’s life. Because of her marriage to a Turkish citizen, she lost the citizenship of her birth. Despite what is stated in the letter, Turkey denied her citizenship when she was sent there in 1945. She did not have the correct address, citizenship, or anything else for her request to merit consideration by any entity. This must have felt immensely unfair. She had suffered so much, and her requests ended up in a tangle of a cold bureaucracy that had no interest in helping her or even acknowledging what she had been through. Although by this time she was safe in San Francisco, she felt that she belonged nowhere and that no one cared about her existence.

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


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


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 22

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Today we see a typed letter from 20-year old soldier Paul Zerzawy, who has been in the Austro-Hungarian army for almost a year, interrupting his university studies (see October 16th post). He is writing to his 17-year old brother Robert, a high school student in Brüx, Bohemia. It amazes me that letters with no street address arrived at their destination. According to Wikipedia, the population of Most (the Czech name for Brüx) was more than 48,000 in 1910 and almost 52,000 in 1921.

LT.0109.1916 (1.2) front.JPG
LT.0109.1916 (2.2) back.JPG

Belgrade, 23 October 1916

My dears!

You can imagine what a joy it was for me to receive Robert’s telegram!  Unfortunately, the address is so garbled that I cannot write to Erich right away.  Please be so kind as to send me Erich’s address and all such details in a letter, if you haven’t already.  Nothing new here, date of my return isn’t determined yet. 

Paul


 The ink stamp on the address side of the postcard says Imperial and Royal (K. u. k.) Military Government in Serbia, Statistical Office. According to a stamp collecting site, “K.u.K. stands for "Kaiserlich und Königlich", ie "Imperial and Royal". The authorities responsible for common affairs acted "imperially and royally". All agencies of the Foreign and the War Ministries thus carried the abbreviation "k.u.k.", whereby the first k stood for the Kaiser (Emperor) of Austria, the second for the King of Hungary…. In the event of mobilization or war, the "k.u.k. Feldpost" swung into action. The army was k.u.k., so likewise the field post offices, the communication lines behind them, telegraphy, the entire vehicle fleet etc. This is simply because the Fieldpost was responsible to the War Ministry acting for both Austria and Hungary, and it directly to the Emperor-King.”

We saw correspondence from brother Erich in yesterday’s post. We saw the only letter I have from Erich written in 1916 in the July 14 post — perhaps he is referring to that letter. Or perhaps he has been captured and sent to Siberia, and the correspondence Paul refers to was the first they had heard of his fate – the first letter I have from Erich as a POW from January 1917.

October 21

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Today we have two letters from October of 1917 sent from 19-year old POW Erich Zerzawy in eastern Siberia to his grandmother, brother Robert, and sister Kätherl in Brüx, Bohemia.

LT.0085.1917 (1.2) front.JPG
LT.0085.1917 (2.2) back.JPG

14./X.17.

My dear ones!

I just received Kätherl’s card from July 22nd. You can believe that it doesn’t exactly put my worries to rest about your health, when Kätherl does something different like getting pulmonary epicitis [perhaps catarrh of the lungs?] again. I am not entirely satisfied with Robert either. Erich would set a good example for you, because the fellow enjoys the best health. But you may be assured that I’d rather lie around in the chaise longue with you. So, get better. With a thousand kisses, especially for Grandma who doesn’t write to me at all anymore,

Your Erich


LT.0097.1917 (3.3) envelope.JPG
LT.0097.1917 (1.3) front.JPG

Beresowka 21/X.17

My dear ones!

Recently, I have at least heard some news from Brüx, although it’s been rather spare. But I hear so little from Papa; I know that Paul is forbidden to write to me directly, so you’ll have to let me know how he is doing. It is my most sincere wish that he is doing fine.

Robert’s new medical exam also does not make me very happy. Because if they keep him, what happens then at home? How do you think the September physical exams turned out? I found out about it in fact from a card that I got from the Rosner family on August 1st.

I regret that I cannot send my thanks personally for the very nice card, but you know how it is. But I do thank them very much, and let me do it through you. You can imagine how much it makes us happy here when we find out that old acquaintances remember us. Franzl Reh in Neumarkt — please greet him for me, Robert — he is the only one of my colleagues who has written to me. Here where I am nothing has changed, everything is just as it was, only that the season is changing. We now already have very cold days and it’s also snowing. In fact, the winter is beginning. We now will be shut in again for a few months, vegetating in the bad air in the barracks until the nice days come again and we can go outside without fear of freezing to death. Then it will be summer again, winter, and I just don’t know how long it’s going to take. Many people have given up hope of this ending anytime soon, me too. No matter how much one used to cling to every glimmer of hope and cherish the firm belief that it would be over, now we are pretty much convinced of the opposite. Maybe a new upswing will come, but nobody really knows if that will actually lead to peace. Be that as it may, eventually the time will come where etc., but I wonder if everyone will be fortunate enough to come home? So many have already really lost hope, and who knows what the others will be doing if some change in our situation does not happen soon.

Please greet everybody from me. Sincere kisses a thousand times.

Your
Erich


I have 31 letters written by Erich between 1916-1918. The card from July 14 is the only one written while serving in the army, all of the rest sent as Red Cross correspondence from the POW camp in Beresowka. The letter dated October 21 is the only actual letter – all the rest are postcards.

There were 5 Zerzawy siblings: Paul, Klara, Erich, and Robert were born to Julius Zerzawy and Helene’s eldest sister Ida. After Ida’s death, Julius married her younger sister Mathilde and young Käthe/Kätherl was the product of that marriage. Mathilda died in 1910 and Klara died in 1916. At the time of this correspondence, Julius and Paul were soldiers and not able to correspond directly with Erich. Robert had recently turned 18 and might find himself drafted at any time, leaving sister Kätherl and their grandmother alone and with few resources. Despite his own dire situation, Erich has more concern for his family’s welfare than his own.

Although both the letter and postcard bear censorship markings, Erich apparently felt more comfortable writing about his own uncomfortable situation in the letter – perhaps knowing that the envelope kept the contents away from prying, but unofficial, eyes? This is the first time a sense of hopelessness has found its way into his correspondence.

October 20

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Today we see a newsletter from October of 1962. This 8-page bulletin was for written by and for survivors of Ravensbrück. I was surprised when I first came across this document among Helene’s belongings – I had never imagined that there might be an alumni newsletter for former concentration camp prisoners. And yet, it makes perfect sense – who else could understand and identify with their experiences? Today, it would be a Facebook group – in fact, in preparing today’s post, I found that there is a group with that name! The newsletter continues to be published.

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Unsurprisingly, Helene was traumatized by her time in Ravensbrück, and it haunted her for the rest of her life. She referred to her experiences in some of her letters from Istanbul in 1945-1946 and in some of her memoirs. She felt close to women who shared her experience, continuing her correspondence with some of them at least into the early 1960s. There is a letter from Helene to Lucienne Simier and one from Lucienne to Harry, and a poem dedicated to Helene from Gemma La Guardia Gluck, and artwork by Jeanne Letourneau.

The human need for connection and communication is incredibly strong, and people will do everything they can to reach out to loved ones, especially in the darkest of times. As we have seen, family members found ways to contact their loved ones from a Siberian POW camp during World War I, from Vienna to the U.S. while the countries were at war, between the death camps. Nothing could quell their quest for contact.

October 19

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Other than the San Francisco Examiner newspaper article about Helene winning a contest, I knew little about her life in San Francisco beyond that of being my kind and loving grandmother, the only grandparent I ever knew. Today’s letter of recommendation gives us a window into her life in the U.S., just two years after her arrival.

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October 18, 1948

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN;

It is a pleasure to say that Mrs. Helene Cohen is known to me to be of good character and to be a competent and conscientious housekeeper.

Mrs. Cohen gave to my uncle, for whom she was housekeeper, not only excellent physical care, but was considerate of his mental well being and careful in the management of the expenses of his household.

Very truly yours,

Harry Goodfriend

I searched for Harry Goodfriend and found an obituary for him in the Winter 2012 Lowell Alumni Newsletter. He graduated from Lowell High School in 1928 and died in 2010 at the age of 100. He was in banking for more than 60 years. The in memoriam notice ended by saying “we will all miss Harry, who was a true gentleman and a good friend to a century of people.” As I learn more about my family, I am fascinated by all the people whose paths they crossed. I suppose that’s true for most of us, but we don’t usually see evidence of it.

October 18

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

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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


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. 


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:

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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.


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 16

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Today we see school records for Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy. In the September 29 post, we saw a photo of his classmates from 1915.

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The above certificate states that Paul was a student of law and political science at the k.k. German Karl-Ferdinands-Universität in Prague and that on October 15, 1915, he passed the state examination in legal history with a satisfactory score.

We learn from this certificate that he was not yet in the army in early fall of 1915. His earliest letter as a soldier was written in November of 1915, so it appears he completed his legal history exam and was then drafted or joined the army.

The pages below from his university enrollment book show that he returned to the university in 1918. He first enrolled in 1913 when he was 18 years old, attended through 1915 and returned to his studies in 1918 after being discharged from the army.

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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.

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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 14

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As we’ve seen in past posts, Helene’s nephew Paul Zerzawy had difficulty landing on his feet when he came to America. He had years of education and several degrees, had risen in the ranks as a soldier in World War I, and had a successful career in Vienna. Yet, when he arrived in the U.S. in 1939 at the age of 43, he had neither the means nor the skills necessary to have a successful career. He fell back on his skills as a musician and became a piano teacher and accompanist.

Today we see a flyer for a benefit concert held at a private home in Berkeley, California on October 14, 1946.

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The concert raised money to help settle European Jewish war orphans in Birobidjan/Birobidzhan in the farthest reaches of eastern Siberia. Note the price of postage in 1946: 1-1/2 cents! This remote area was designated by the USSR as the “Jewish Autonomous Region”. Although there was a revival of the area from 1946-1948, Stalin soon made life hell for the Jews living there -- unfortunately these generous people probably made things worse for those poor children.

Paul accompanied a Polish contralto named Anna Opaletska in music by Brahms and Polish and Russian folk songs. It appears that he accompanied her on a fairly regular basis. In trying to find more about Miss Opaletska, I found an article from the October 11, 1946 issue of the Oakland Tribune which described the upcoming event:

from newspapers.com: page 14 of the October 11, 1946 issue of the Oakland Tribune

from newspapers.com: page 14 of the October 11, 1946 issue of the Oakland Tribune

Affair Set for War Orphans

Polish and Russian folk songs, presented by Miss Anna Opaletska in native costume, will be a feature of the tea Monday afternoon at 2:30 at the home of Mrs. Henry Sicular on La Loma Avenue, Berkeley, to benefit European war orphans.

Giving the tea is the Bay Area American Biro-Bidjan committee, whose work [is] toward resettlement and rehabilitation of orphans and refugees in Biro-Bidjan, a Jewish autonomous republic of the U.S.S.R.

Paul Zerzawy of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, who will accompany Miss Opaletska, is also donating his talents to the benefit. Sponsors include….

A report on work being done or planned for Biro-Bidjan orphans will be made at the tea by J.B. Aronoff based on information just brought to this country by B.Z. Goldberg, National Committee representative. Dr. Albert Einstein is national president of the committee.

Apparently the fund was set up in 1945 and was known as the “Einstein Fund”.

We have already spent a fair amount of time this year in another part of eastern Siberia, where Paul’s brother Erich spent the last years of his brief life at a POW camp in Beresowka/Beresovka. They do not appear to be close to each other except compared to anywhere in Europe.

I do not know which Brahms songs were played, but I found a Brahms song for contralto, viola, and piano which gives us some idea.

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.

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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’)


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:

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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.

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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.


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?

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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.

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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


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

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

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

LT.0204.1941.JPEG

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


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).