Like Genevieve, I thought that I would go ahead and post on our blog my responses to the blogs of other students, because I think that what I've learned from hearing other people's stories is related to what I have learned from Frieda.
Tuesdays With Murray
I found Murray’s story very interesting because he does not consider himself to be a typical Holocaust survivor. He does not believe really in remembering the Holocaust, and that was such a difference from the survivor I interviewed, Frieda, who consistently warned about the importance of remembering the Holocaust. Murray however, seems to take the approach that the Holocaust is something that happened to him, and that it will probably happen again, and that it is easier to try and forget horrible things than to try and dwell on them.
I guess that in a way, I can understand how he feels. As Arthur pointed out, how much does it really matter to Murray which concentration camps he stayed at, or what his birthday exactly is? Knowing this information won’t bring his family back. Different people grieve differently, and for Murray, it seems that he would rather distance himself from the past and focus on his current family, which he feels is most important. In some ways, I think that this might even be healthier than what some Survivors do when they dwell on the Holocaust and can’t move on. Murray has chosen to move on, and to do that, he believes he must put the Holocaust entirely behind him.
Experiences With Mr. Joseph Aleksander
Before reading Mr. Aleksander’s story, I read Murray’s, so it was interesting to see the huge difference in perspectives that the two men have. While Murray believes that the Holocaust is his own personal experience, and that there is no need to speak or dwell on it, Mr. Aleksander, like the Survivor I interviewed, Frieda, believes strongly that the story of the Holocaust needs to be told. I also found it interesting that he believes that this story should be told in whatever ways and media possible, including fictional accounts of the Holocaust, which can be controversial. Furthermore, Mr. Aleksander might be the first person I’ve ever encountered who not only did not admire Elie Wiesel, but actually resented what he’s doing. While Mr. Aleksander believes that it is important to spread the story of the Holocaust, he believes that it is the Survivor’s duty to not make a profit out of it, but tell their story for free. I really found this idea of a “Survivor’s duty” interesting, because I had never heard of the belief that Survivors have an obligation to humanity to spread the story of the Holocaust, however, I can see why someone who had endured something so horrible would believe in the necessities of sharing these experiences with others.
Overall, this whole experience has been incredible. I could have never hoped or expected to have learned so much or be so touched by an academic course.
Posted by Ariana Quiñónez
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Final Thoughts
It's difficult to describe the array of emotions I felt as I got ready to call Frieda. I felt like an intruder in a way, trying to poke my head in the personal tragedies of her life. I didn't want to be a curious audience member turning her story into a interesting circus act, but yet I knew that part of my interest, and that of many others, in the Holocaust has to do with the absolutely horrific nature of it all. It is difficult for those of us who have never seen utter evil, to understand how it can even come to be.
From the moment I began talking to Frieda, I realized that the questions that were suggested for interviewing Holocaust survivors from the Museum website weren't going to be very useful in interviewing Frieda. Her situation was unique, and really unlike any I had ever heard of before. She couldn't tell me about life in the ghetto--she didn't really remember. She was so young when everything happened, that she couldn't really remember much about the Holocaust, let alone what came before the Holocaust. At first I felt stunted when I realized this. I wondered how in the world we were going to be able to learn any information since Frieda was so young. But then I realized that what Frieda could teach us was about much more than what we could learn in any textbook.
I can learn what life in the ghetto was like from a book. I can learn all of the horrible things that the Nazis did, and how they destroyed lives. But what a book can never, never tell me, is what it feels like to be a Holocaust survivor. And that seems to be Frieda's goal in speaking to young people about the Holocaust. I think that she has come to realize that our generation will never be able to understand the Holocaust, or understand Holocaust survivors--she mentioned to Genevive and I about how we had never experienced true hunger or feelings of starvation--but she can try to get across the feeling of being a Holocaust survivor, and feelings in a way are something universal that is easier for us wrap our minds around.
What is most astounding about Frieda, and I think what distinguishes her from many other survivors, is how she can't really remember a life before the Holocaust, or even much during the Holocaust. Her entire life then, has essentially been trying to put together pieces of who she is. When listening to Frieda speak, what shocked me most was when I realized that when a child endures hell daily, that child does not know of any other way of living. When Frieda was in the concentration camp at Bergen Belson, she walked past mounds of dead bodies daily. She knew all of this was horrible she told us, but she also at this point, couldn't imagine anything else. Unlike adults, Frieda didn't have the luxury of remembering a peaceful past.
From listening to Frieda, it is obvious that she is a survivor in every sense of the word. Despite coming out of the Holocaust alive due to what she called "luck," there is still a definite level courage needed to simply survive in the "normal world" after living most of one's life in such horrific conditions. I can't imagine the emptiness she must of felt at coming out of the concentration camp, only to realize that she didn't really know who she was. I guess I never realized that it is the small details of our lives that make up the person who we are: our birthday, the smell of our mother's perfume, the sound of our father's laugh. Frieda didn't have any of these things--they were stolen from her.
As I've said before, I don't expect to ever fully understand the plight of someone as remarkable as Frieda. Sitting comfortably in my room on this beautiful campus, I think it would be an insult to the 6 million dead to try and say that I could understand. But after hearing Frieda's story, I do think that part of what I understand better is the "feeling" as she called it. The feeling of being a lost child looking for her mother, or the feeling of being scared and alone in a different place. It is this "feeling" that I think Frieda wants to ensure is never forgotten. And I think that it is the preservation of this "feeling" for why it is important to record the lives of Survivors.
Posted by Ariana Quiñónez
From the moment I began talking to Frieda, I realized that the questions that were suggested for interviewing Holocaust survivors from the Museum website weren't going to be very useful in interviewing Frieda. Her situation was unique, and really unlike any I had ever heard of before. She couldn't tell me about life in the ghetto--she didn't really remember. She was so young when everything happened, that she couldn't really remember much about the Holocaust, let alone what came before the Holocaust. At first I felt stunted when I realized this. I wondered how in the world we were going to be able to learn any information since Frieda was so young. But then I realized that what Frieda could teach us was about much more than what we could learn in any textbook.
I can learn what life in the ghetto was like from a book. I can learn all of the horrible things that the Nazis did, and how they destroyed lives. But what a book can never, never tell me, is what it feels like to be a Holocaust survivor. And that seems to be Frieda's goal in speaking to young people about the Holocaust. I think that she has come to realize that our generation will never be able to understand the Holocaust, or understand Holocaust survivors--she mentioned to Genevive and I about how we had never experienced true hunger or feelings of starvation--but she can try to get across the feeling of being a Holocaust survivor, and feelings in a way are something universal that is easier for us wrap our minds around.
What is most astounding about Frieda, and I think what distinguishes her from many other survivors, is how she can't really remember a life before the Holocaust, or even much during the Holocaust. Her entire life then, has essentially been trying to put together pieces of who she is. When listening to Frieda speak, what shocked me most was when I realized that when a child endures hell daily, that child does not know of any other way of living. When Frieda was in the concentration camp at Bergen Belson, she walked past mounds of dead bodies daily. She knew all of this was horrible she told us, but she also at this point, couldn't imagine anything else. Unlike adults, Frieda didn't have the luxury of remembering a peaceful past.
From listening to Frieda, it is obvious that she is a survivor in every sense of the word. Despite coming out of the Holocaust alive due to what she called "luck," there is still a definite level courage needed to simply survive in the "normal world" after living most of one's life in such horrific conditions. I can't imagine the emptiness she must of felt at coming out of the concentration camp, only to realize that she didn't really know who she was. I guess I never realized that it is the small details of our lives that make up the person who we are: our birthday, the smell of our mother's perfume, the sound of our father's laugh. Frieda didn't have any of these things--they were stolen from her.
As I've said before, I don't expect to ever fully understand the plight of someone as remarkable as Frieda. Sitting comfortably in my room on this beautiful campus, I think it would be an insult to the 6 million dead to try and say that I could understand. But after hearing Frieda's story, I do think that part of what I understand better is the "feeling" as she called it. The feeling of being a lost child looking for her mother, or the feeling of being scared and alone in a different place. It is this "feeling" that I think Frieda wants to ensure is never forgotten. And I think that it is the preservation of this "feeling" for why it is important to record the lives of Survivors.
Posted by Ariana Quiñónez
Friday, April 16, 2010
Responses to Journals
Though I posted several responses on other peoples' journals, I thought that I would share my reflections here as well.
Beba Levanthal:
I find it very interesting that Beba was a part of an underground group. I had very little awareness of the prevalence of such groups before last week's presentation and prior to reading her story. It seems as though the will to survive, in Beba's case, was not merely a desire to continue to be alive, but to pursue a life. It is remarkable that despite the loss of her parents, her time spent in a ghetto and the dangers she faced every day (being shot at and threatened with the destruction of the ghetto) she was able to maintain such tenacity. It seems that she did not even want to give herself time to rest from the ordeal, but instead was driven to leave the hospital immediately. It is refreshing to hear the story of someone with such a strong desire to live and to keep moving. Beba strikes me as a brave and resilient woman.
Zenon Neumark:
"I did not pass my experiences on to my children like many other have. I have 2 daughters. They did not experience the terror themselves, as many other suvivors’ children have."
I find this a very interesting thought. I had never considered that people might perceive passing on their experiences as perhaps passing the terror onto their children. Through the reading I have been doing for my research paper, I have come across countless books and countless stories about the transmission of trauma in second generation Holocaust survivors. It is really interesting to hear the perspective of someone who has chosen not to share their story with their family, and the reasoning behind it. Most of the assumptions I've heard regarding why people do not pass along this information have to do with trying to forget that they ever lived through something so terrible. Zenon seems to be an incredibly intelligent and well-spoken individual; this must have been a really fascinating interview.
Sarah Lumer:
"I didn’t want to die, I couldn’t die. I kept thinking that Mother had borrowed money for the ticket to send me to Budapest. How could I die? She expected me to survive and I couldn’t disappoint her. She’d kill me."
This aside is refreshing in its humor and insight into the mind of a child. Though this story does not share some of the more horrific images that others do, the child's vision of the world is very clear and saddening. I of course remember what it was like to be a child, to think "if I lose my lunchbox my mom is going to kill me." But the juxtaposition of such childish thinking with the reality of Sarah faced--life-threatening illness, cold, hard labor, lack of medicine--brings the strangeness and cruelty of the treatment of children in concentration camps to light. It is very effective in communicating the experience of this childhood experience. The mindset of a child and the reality of the Holocaust are in such stark opposition that it is truly interesting and unique to read a story where the two are melded. Thank you, and thank you to Sarah, for sharing this story.
--Genevieve La Rocca
Beba Levanthal:
I find it very interesting that Beba was a part of an underground group. I had very little awareness of the prevalence of such groups before last week's presentation and prior to reading her story. It seems as though the will to survive, in Beba's case, was not merely a desire to continue to be alive, but to pursue a life. It is remarkable that despite the loss of her parents, her time spent in a ghetto and the dangers she faced every day (being shot at and threatened with the destruction of the ghetto) she was able to maintain such tenacity. It seems that she did not even want to give herself time to rest from the ordeal, but instead was driven to leave the hospital immediately. It is refreshing to hear the story of someone with such a strong desire to live and to keep moving. Beba strikes me as a brave and resilient woman.
Zenon Neumark:
"I did not pass my experiences on to my children like many other have. I have 2 daughters. They did not experience the terror themselves, as many other suvivors’ children have."
I find this a very interesting thought. I had never considered that people might perceive passing on their experiences as perhaps passing the terror onto their children. Through the reading I have been doing for my research paper, I have come across countless books and countless stories about the transmission of trauma in second generation Holocaust survivors. It is really interesting to hear the perspective of someone who has chosen not to share their story with their family, and the reasoning behind it. Most of the assumptions I've heard regarding why people do not pass along this information have to do with trying to forget that they ever lived through something so terrible. Zenon seems to be an incredibly intelligent and well-spoken individual; this must have been a really fascinating interview.
Sarah Lumer:
"I didn’t want to die, I couldn’t die. I kept thinking that Mother had borrowed money for the ticket to send me to Budapest. How could I die? She expected me to survive and I couldn’t disappoint her. She’d kill me."
This aside is refreshing in its humor and insight into the mind of a child. Though this story does not share some of the more horrific images that others do, the child's vision of the world is very clear and saddening. I of course remember what it was like to be a child, to think "if I lose my lunchbox my mom is going to kill me." But the juxtaposition of such childish thinking with the reality of Sarah faced--life-threatening illness, cold, hard labor, lack of medicine--brings the strangeness and cruelty of the treatment of children in concentration camps to light. It is very effective in communicating the experience of this childhood experience. The mindset of a child and the reality of the Holocaust are in such stark opposition that it is truly interesting and unique to read a story where the two are melded. Thank you, and thank you to Sarah, for sharing this story.
--Genevieve La Rocca
The Child and the Holocaust
As the phone rang to speak with Frieda for our interview I felt somewhat nervous, but also excited (though I felt that this was not an appropriate emotion). It was not the type of excitement one experiences when they are about to do something fun, but an odd feeling of importance and singularity--an excitement because of my ability to speak with someone with unthinkable resilience in the face of trauma, someone with a story of both tragedy and hope, and someone of a nearly destroyed generation who survived. I felt nervous because I wanted to get it right; and I hope I did.
As we eased into conversation, I tried to write every detail of Frieda's account so that I would be able to share her incredible story; however, there were times when I wrote nothing at all. Certain things that Frieda shared would not leave my memory because they were so beyond my experience of the human capacity to destroy and the human capacity to endure.
When Frieda told us about her baby brother, I felt a type of connection to the immense sadness of the Holocaust that I had never before experienced. When the Holocaust is discussed, the word "horror" seems to enter each conversation. What I felt in that moment was real sadness. It is so easy to lose the sense of loss, of sadness, when it is overpowered by images of hatred and destruction. It is so easy to regain this sense when you think of one specific baby boy in his mother's arms, waiting to board a cattle car.
I have carried this sadness with me as I have continued to think about Frieda and her story. I called my dad one afternoon to tell him about our interview, and could not accurately express what I took away from Frieda's story. I wanted to tell him that it was an affirmation of the will to survive, or a greater understanding of how to maintain hope in dire circumstances, but all I could manage to say was, "He was just a baby. A real baby. Do you understand?"
I do not recall where the phrase "If one dies it is a tragedy, if thousands die it is a statistic" came from, but this phrase came back to me. It is not possible to consider the individual lives of thousands. It is possible to feel sadness for one child. And I am still affected by Frieda's story because of this. I am so grateful to have had the experience of sadness for a particular family, a particular child. It makes the Holocaust real. It gives faces and families to those lost.
-Genevieve La Rocca
As we eased into conversation, I tried to write every detail of Frieda's account so that I would be able to share her incredible story; however, there were times when I wrote nothing at all. Certain things that Frieda shared would not leave my memory because they were so beyond my experience of the human capacity to destroy and the human capacity to endure.
When Frieda told us about her baby brother, I felt a type of connection to the immense sadness of the Holocaust that I had never before experienced. When the Holocaust is discussed, the word "horror" seems to enter each conversation. What I felt in that moment was real sadness. It is so easy to lose the sense of loss, of sadness, when it is overpowered by images of hatred and destruction. It is so easy to regain this sense when you think of one specific baby boy in his mother's arms, waiting to board a cattle car.
I have carried this sadness with me as I have continued to think about Frieda and her story. I called my dad one afternoon to tell him about our interview, and could not accurately express what I took away from Frieda's story. I wanted to tell him that it was an affirmation of the will to survive, or a greater understanding of how to maintain hope in dire circumstances, but all I could manage to say was, "He was just a baby. A real baby. Do you understand?"
I do not recall where the phrase "If one dies it is a tragedy, if thousands die it is a statistic" came from, but this phrase came back to me. It is not possible to consider the individual lives of thousands. It is possible to feel sadness for one child. And I am still affected by Frieda's story because of this. I am so grateful to have had the experience of sadness for a particular family, a particular child. It makes the Holocaust real. It gives faces and families to those lost.
-Genevieve La Rocca
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Schindler's List Child Survivor
Last night, I went to see a Schindler's List Holocaust Survivor speak. It was a very moving and memorable event, especially after having seen the film Schindler's List. What struck me most was how unabashedly grateful Leon Leyson and all of the Schindler's List survivors seemed to be for Oscar Schindler. While we have been reading lots of reports that critics have written saying that Spielberg elevated the man to a very high pedestal, Leon and the other Survivors there couldn't put Schindler on a high enough pedestal. What Leon kept repeating was that we couldn't think of Schindler in today's terms. Today he would just be a good CEO who was good to his workers. But we had to think of Schindler within the context of the time. In his time, it was against the law to be a good CEO to Jews. The law was to kill Jews, not save them. Yet Schindler saved thirteen hundren of the Jews he affectionately called "his children." Not only did he save them, but he at all times recognized their humanity.
I guess that I tend to be the forgiving type when it comes to history. Most of the time when I think of a Nazi, I think that that person was caught up in the times, and that war brings out the absolute worst in a person. I assume that people would choose to live peacefully with one another if given the choice. But I now realize that the fact of the matter is that every individual has a choice, if in nothing else, then at least in living morally right. War did not bring out the worst in Oscar Schindler, it brought out the very best. He put himself at great risk to do what he knew was the right thing to do. I guess what most saddens me is that something as horrible as the Holocaust could ever happen. Thousands of people were presented moral choices on doing the right thing, or the morally repugnant one, and so many people chose to forgo their consciences. I realize now that this is something that we cannot allow to happen, because we make moral choices every day. We choose to ignore the horrors that are occurring to others because it makes us more comfortable to live in our own peaceful space. I think to the moment in the movie when Schindler cries out that he could have saved one more. One more human being is worth all the effort of saving.
Another thing that Leon talked about that really resonated with me was how he wanted to speak so that people could put a face to the number. He said that Hitler didn't kill millions, he killed human beings. I think that this is why things such as our interactions with the Survivors we have been interviewing are so important. To hear that six million Jews were murdered can sometimes go over our heads. But to hear the horrific story of a little girl forced to watch her father hanged - that stays with us. Each of the six million Jews was once a child, and each person murdered had hopes and loves and fears that were taken away.
What the Holocaust robbed Frieda of was her identity. Imagine growing up with little to no knowledge of who you are - at least the early pieces that often are the building blocks for who we become. Being born in the privilege of a peaceful environment, I don't think I'll ever truly be able to understand the Child Survivors such as Leon and Frieda; all I can hope is that I can learn from them.
-Posted by Ariana Quiñónez
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Interview: 3/17
As Frieda currently lives in Florida, it was not possible for us to speak with her in person. We hope to upload a sound clip of our phone conversation, but until then we will relay some of Frieda's story and the insight which she was able to give us.
Piotrkow, Poland circled in red.
Frieda was born Fredzia Gelcman on June 16, 1937, in Piotrkow, Poland. The maternal side of her family was from Piotrkow. Germany invaded Poland in 1939 when Fredzia was 2 years old. She and her immediate family lived for a time in Lutotow, but she, her mother and her brother moved back with their grandparents in 1942 after her father's public execution by hanging in Lutotow. Frieda noted that she did not have any idea how her family was able to travel from Lututow to Piotrkow, as it was virtually impossible for Jews to travel at this time. Piotrkow was a large Ghetto and Lututow was a smaller Ghetto, but no-one could leave a Ghetto.
Frieda's stated that their house was broken into by Nazis in order to arrest her father. Since that time, her father's execution has "taken hold" of her memory. The horror of it still remains. She remembers her mother trying to cover her eyes during her father's execution, and a Nazi guard knocking her mother's hand away, saying that Frieda had to watch and remember.
Another traumatic memory Frieda shared was that of losing her mother and baby brother. Fredzia, at around age 5, had wandered away from the square where all the town's Jewish population were forced to gather. This was the site of daily selections for deportations to forced labor camps, and then to extermination death camps. This particular day, when Fredzia heard her mother's name called, meaning that her mother was to be next to be pushed unto the cattle car. At the time, her mother held her 18-month-old brother on her arm. Fredzia tried to run so that she could be with her mother, calling out "Mama, Mama," but someone grabbed her, put a hand over her mouth and pushed her down to the ground. Frieda later learned that it was her aunt, her mother's sister, and so Fredzia was saved. She wanted to be with her mother, but avoided being selected because of her aunt's actions. This was in October of 1942, during which times there was a one-week major deportation to the extermination camp of Treblinka. Though, Frieda shared, no one knew where these transports were going, or that Frieda would never see her mother or her little brother ever again. She does not know if anyone in the Ghetto knew about the Nazi death camps.
Frieda stated that these memories are traumatic and many of the facts she learned in her adult life were very painful, and yet even years later, and even to this day, she felt that she wanted to know and continues to want to know more. Her "so-called childhood," as she referred to it, was a big hole for her. She asked us during the course of our conversation if we could imagine being a child and not ever having a toy. Her memory, instead, is that of hiding in a mud hole and playing with rats. She remembers having vicious dogs sent after her. She remembers true hunger--not the sensation of missing a meal, or even a day of not eating. This, she stated, is something you cannot get out of a history book--why it is important for us to know the stories of real people, her family, and herself as a very little child.
In October, 1942, the ghetto in Piotrkow had mostly been disbanded. However, the Germans needed slave labor because of the two major factories in Piotrkow. Though there were very few children, Fredzia was among the few. She was here until November 1944, but as the Russians were now in the war and destroying German armies in Poland and American and Allied forces were also in the war fighting against Nazi Germany, the Germans were totally shutting down the slave labor in the Piotrkow Ghetto. They began transporting the remaining slave labor from the factories in Piotrkow. In November of 1944, she was deported with the remaining women and girls to the Concentration Camp "Ravensbruck" in Germany. In January of 1945 she and a group of Jewish women and a handful of Jewish children, after a terrible journey by cattle train cars arrived in the death camp of Bergen-Belsen in Germany. This particular camp is known by many who have read the "Diary of Anne Frank," as this is where Anne Frank and her sister died of Typhus, and where thousands of people were killed by inhuman means. She recalls the four day trip with no food or sanitation, the car crammed with bodies: "A Hell on earth."
In Aril 1945, Bergen-Belsen was accidentally found by the British troops. Frieda recalls stacks, mountains of naked bodies everywhere. She was housed in a barrack with no roof or floor. She stated that Bergen-Belsen was a place of disease and starvation--hell. Frieda, one of the few child survivors under the age of 10, was liberated. "Being free" was something that did not make sense to her; she did not know what that word meant.
The British had to burn everything from the camp. She and her fellow survivors had been wearing the same clothes for all the months there, and when the British lit the fires she could fear the lice crackling. Frieda stated that with all of the dying, with corpses all around you, it doesn't seem unusual anymore because it's all you know.
Fredzia was supposed to be sent to Sweden for adoption with other very young orphaned children from Bergen-Belsen, however her uncle (her mother's brother) and her aunt (her mother's sister) who also survived several slave-labor camps and concentration camps, found a list of child survivors in Bergen-Belsen and noticed a name that resembled Fredzia's. They found the means to get to Bergen-Belsen, in the post-War Displaced Persons (DP) Camp, and they stayed together with her until 1951.
In 1951, at age 13, Frieda moved to the US, began school and began learning English (though she already knew bits and pieces of many different languages, both by schooling and as a means of survival). This, she stated, turned out to be a wonderful experience. She graduated in Linguistics, speaks French, Yiddish, Spanish and enough German to have helped her survive her Holocaust circumstances.
She now has two grown sons, and three grandkids.
Perhaps the most inspirational thing that Frieda said during our time speaking was this: "Every day is a wonderful happening." Despite the trauma Frieda endured as a child, her lingering questions and the loss of her family, Frieda is glad to be alive.
Frieda stated that she only has vague images of her childhood, and those things that she can remember are terrible. She stated that because of the horror she underwent, her memories have no movement, most of these memories are like still-life. All of her memories have been "reconstructed," pieced together through the research she has done in her adult life and the information provided to her by a genealogist/researcher in Poland who is still tyring to find more information. Frieda assumes that everyone in her family has passed away by now, and was only able to find out her real birthday 2 years ago. Until that time, there was no documentation of her life.
However, through the help of this genealogist, Frieda has been able to see and find out astonishing things. Her birth certificate was discovered. She found out her mother and father's birthdays, their marriage date, where her father came from, that she was born at 6AM, and her grandparents' names. She is named after her father's mother.
Frieda continues to search for more information about her family. She doubts if she will ever stop searching and trying to find someone from her family who might have survived the Nazi murders.
posted by Genevieve La Rocca
Piotrkow, Poland circled in red.
Frieda was born Fredzia Gelcman on June 16, 1937, in Piotrkow, Poland. The maternal side of her family was from Piotrkow. Germany invaded Poland in 1939 when Fredzia was 2 years old. She and her immediate family lived for a time in Lutotow, but she, her mother and her brother moved back with their grandparents in 1942 after her father's public execution by hanging in Lutotow. Frieda noted that she did not have any idea how her family was able to travel from Lututow to Piotrkow, as it was virtually impossible for Jews to travel at this time. Piotrkow was a large Ghetto and Lututow was a smaller Ghetto, but no-one could leave a Ghetto.
Frieda's stated that their house was broken into by Nazis in order to arrest her father. Since that time, her father's execution has "taken hold" of her memory. The horror of it still remains. She remembers her mother trying to cover her eyes during her father's execution, and a Nazi guard knocking her mother's hand away, saying that Frieda had to watch and remember.
Another traumatic memory Frieda shared was that of losing her mother and baby brother. Fredzia, at around age 5, had wandered away from the square where all the town's Jewish population were forced to gather. This was the site of daily selections for deportations to forced labor camps, and then to extermination death camps. This particular day, when Fredzia heard her mother's name called, meaning that her mother was to be next to be pushed unto the cattle car. At the time, her mother held her 18-month-old brother on her arm. Fredzia tried to run so that she could be with her mother, calling out "Mama, Mama," but someone grabbed her, put a hand over her mouth and pushed her down to the ground. Frieda later learned that it was her aunt, her mother's sister, and so Fredzia was saved. She wanted to be with her mother, but avoided being selected because of her aunt's actions. This was in October of 1942, during which times there was a one-week major deportation to the extermination camp of Treblinka. Though, Frieda shared, no one knew where these transports were going, or that Frieda would never see her mother or her little brother ever again. She does not know if anyone in the Ghetto knew about the Nazi death camps.
Frieda stated that these memories are traumatic and many of the facts she learned in her adult life were very painful, and yet even years later, and even to this day, she felt that she wanted to know and continues to want to know more. Her "so-called childhood," as she referred to it, was a big hole for her. She asked us during the course of our conversation if we could imagine being a child and not ever having a toy. Her memory, instead, is that of hiding in a mud hole and playing with rats. She remembers having vicious dogs sent after her. She remembers true hunger--not the sensation of missing a meal, or even a day of not eating. This, she stated, is something you cannot get out of a history book--why it is important for us to know the stories of real people, her family, and herself as a very little child.
In October, 1942, the ghetto in Piotrkow had mostly been disbanded. However, the Germans needed slave labor because of the two major factories in Piotrkow. Though there were very few children, Fredzia was among the few. She was here until November 1944, but as the Russians were now in the war and destroying German armies in Poland and American and Allied forces were also in the war fighting against Nazi Germany, the Germans were totally shutting down the slave labor in the Piotrkow Ghetto. They began transporting the remaining slave labor from the factories in Piotrkow. In November of 1944, she was deported with the remaining women and girls to the Concentration Camp "Ravensbruck" in Germany. In January of 1945 she and a group of Jewish women and a handful of Jewish children, after a terrible journey by cattle train cars arrived in the death camp of Bergen-Belsen in Germany. This particular camp is known by many who have read the "Diary of Anne Frank," as this is where Anne Frank and her sister died of Typhus, and where thousands of people were killed by inhuman means. She recalls the four day trip with no food or sanitation, the car crammed with bodies: "A Hell on earth."
In Aril 1945, Bergen-Belsen was accidentally found by the British troops. Frieda recalls stacks, mountains of naked bodies everywhere. She was housed in a barrack with no roof or floor. She stated that Bergen-Belsen was a place of disease and starvation--hell. Frieda, one of the few child survivors under the age of 10, was liberated. "Being free" was something that did not make sense to her; she did not know what that word meant.
The British had to burn everything from the camp. She and her fellow survivors had been wearing the same clothes for all the months there, and when the British lit the fires she could fear the lice crackling. Frieda stated that with all of the dying, with corpses all around you, it doesn't seem unusual anymore because it's all you know.
Fredzia was supposed to be sent to Sweden for adoption with other very young orphaned children from Bergen-Belsen, however her uncle (her mother's brother) and her aunt (her mother's sister) who also survived several slave-labor camps and concentration camps, found a list of child survivors in Bergen-Belsen and noticed a name that resembled Fredzia's. They found the means to get to Bergen-Belsen, in the post-War Displaced Persons (DP) Camp, and they stayed together with her until 1951.
In 1951, at age 13, Frieda moved to the US, began school and began learning English (though she already knew bits and pieces of many different languages, both by schooling and as a means of survival). This, she stated, turned out to be a wonderful experience. She graduated in Linguistics, speaks French, Yiddish, Spanish and enough German to have helped her survive her Holocaust circumstances.
She now has two grown sons, and three grandkids.
Perhaps the most inspirational thing that Frieda said during our time speaking was this: "Every day is a wonderful happening." Despite the trauma Frieda endured as a child, her lingering questions and the loss of her family, Frieda is glad to be alive.
Frieda stated that she only has vague images of her childhood, and those things that she can remember are terrible. She stated that because of the horror she underwent, her memories have no movement, most of these memories are like still-life. All of her memories have been "reconstructed," pieced together through the research she has done in her adult life and the information provided to her by a genealogist/researcher in Poland who is still tyring to find more information. Frieda assumes that everyone in her family has passed away by now, and was only able to find out her real birthday 2 years ago. Until that time, there was no documentation of her life.
However, through the help of this genealogist, Frieda has been able to see and find out astonishing things. Her birth certificate was discovered. She found out her mother and father's birthdays, their marriage date, where her father came from, that she was born at 6AM, and her grandparents' names. She is named after her father's mother.
Frieda continues to search for more information about her family. She doubts if she will ever stop searching and trying to find someone from her family who might have survived the Nazi murders.
posted by Genevieve La Rocca
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