Out of the Shoebox Page 6

  Despite my many conversations with my Aunt Zelda I never asked her when the Finkelmans were murdered. I gathered they were forced out of their home and into the ghetto with the rest of the Jews on Szpitalna Street. Thanks to my aunt, the doctor, the family probably survived until late August 1942, when everyone was sent on trains to the Belzec death camp. I found that fact in the testimony of Dr. Israel Shor who survived. He was a friend of my aunt's. I found his account regarding her fate in the testimonial pages he submitted to Yad Vashem.

  My mother's parents were, in fact, a generation younger than my father's parents, which makes his parents’ open-mindedness and support in providing their children with a higher education that much more remarkable. Even more so considering that they allowed their two daughters to study away from home. Sima (Simka) studied medicine, and her sister Zelda (named for her great grandmother Zelda, as was Aunt Zelda from the States) studied philosophy. Of the two girls, Sima was unusual for her time: an educated woman, with a profession, active in Zionist organizations, who remained unmarried until her death at the age of 41. Perhaps I am doing the eldest daughter, Ethel, a disservice, but as far as I know she left home at a young age and moved to the US I don't think anyone knows any more about her, other than she entered the US in 1927 and died in 1958 – information I found in US government records.

  Not one of the Kramers in Chortkow survived the Holocaust. Of the Finkelmans, a few survived: Zelda Finkelman-Halstuch, my father's sister, her son Sigmund (Zigush). Zelda Finkelman-Liebling my second cousin and her husband Joel who survived together, and Eliyahu Loushu Finkelman, another second cousin. Our grandfathers were brothers. Each of them has a fascinating story to tell.

  The first of our family to perish was Dr. Karl Halstuch, Aunt Zelda's husband who was a lawyer by trade. There are several accounts of his death. He was caught in the first Aktion in Chortkow, known as the Savage Aktion on August 25th, 1941. A company of the Gestapo's Flying Brigade, which just arrived in Chortkow with the Ukrainian Militia abducted a hundred Jews, some from their homes based on prepared lists, and some straight from the streets. These Jews were led to the local jail where the Germans let the doctors and pharmacists go. The rest were loaded onto trucks the next day and murdered in ditches that had been dug in advance in the Black Forest. Adam, Karl's son was caught along with his father. A speedy trial at the jail of just a few minutes ended with his release because he was too young, while his father was sentenced to death. Adam did not survive the Holocaust; he died after the family was sent to the ghetto as the result of an infection from appendicitis.

  I never met my Aunt Zelda Halstuch, (Father's sister), nor her son Zigush. They were both sent to the Janowska labor camp in Lviv and were of the few in the camp who survived. After escaping the horrors, they immigrated to Colombia and lived with my Uncle Chaskel. How Zigush survived by hiding in a potato pantry, I learned from his memoirs which were posted online. He used to share his memories with students in Colombia on Holocaust remembrance days.

  My Uncle Eliyahu Finkelman, Loushu, was also "lucky". While Chortkow was still under Soviet rule he was caught as a young boy, after being ratted out for hiding food or some other valuables. Loushu, the son of capitalists, was tried and sent to a jail in Siberia and so sentenced to live while his family was exterminated. It is hard to imagine what a young man, all alone, would go through in Siberia. But fate is a fickle mistress and he got to keep his life.

  As for Aunt Zelda Finkelman-Liebling's story, I knew it well. Her family was sent to a labor camp from which people would be sent to death camps for extermination. Her husband Joel, a dentist by trade, treated the camp staff. Before the camp was liquidated and all its inmates killed the camp commander allowed Joel to choose who would be allowed to escape with him – his wife Zelda or his sister. Joel chose Zelda. Zelda and Joel escaped, leaving their family behind. Zelda's diary, written in their bunker-hideaway after their escape provides a glimpse into a terrible world full of inconceivable physical and mental hardships. Half of her diary was lost during the war, but the other half survived along with Zelda. Zelda and Joel immigrated to the US and had two children: Mordechai and Linette.

  Digging into our family history took up a lot of my free time. I felt the need to create a memorial for my parents' families. I had a collection of family photos of those who were no longer with us. When I found a website dedicated to the memory of the Jewish community in Chortkow, founded by Miri Gershoni the daughter of Chortkow survivors, I decided it was the right place to pay tribute to my family's memory. I began scanning the photos, making sure I knew who was who and relevant dates so I could add descriptions to the photos. Once again I opened the family tree I made that night with Aunt Zelda in New Jersey. Suddenly each name had a face, I knew how different people were connected to one another, which ones were friends, and each photo told its own story.

  In July 2012, my sister Ilana forwarded to me a letter from Miri Gershoni with questions about our family. The timing was perfect; I had just that day finished scanning the photos and adding a few words to each one. I contacted Miri and a few days later we met at my home. It was a fascinating meeting. I was impressed and moved by the task Miri took upon herself to document and commemorate the community of Chortkow. I was happy to share everything I knew of my family, and happier still to make this connection which allowed me to find out more about them. After a couple of days I organized all my material and sent it to Miri. I was amazed by her dedication and hard work, as she uploaded the photos and descriptions the very next day.

  Even more incredible were the events of the next few days. While Raya and I were on a trip to Acadia National Park in Maine, I received an email from Miri:

  "Is Pepe Kramer part of your family? I have a number of photos in Tonka (Tonia's) Sternberg's collection (on the website) with the name Pepe Kramer written on them. I'm sending them to you. Tonka Sternberg also has a picture of Moshe Kramer that is an exact copy of the one you have. I assume then that Pepe is a relative of your mother's."

  I was stunned by the email. I had no idea who Pepe Kramer was. I got online immediately and found the memorial page for the families Sternberg and Vermuth on the Chortkow website. Next to photo #10 it said: "... Moshe Kramer, a good friend of Tonia. His sister, Pepe Kramer was her best friend. Both came from a large wealthy family of which no one survived." This was incredible – finding a picture of my Uncle Moshe on the page of another family. I had no idea who Pepe Kramer was. I assumed it was a nickname of my Aunt Selka's or that I’d found another of my mother's sisters whom I’d never heard of, but that seemed unlikely.

  So we went walking in Acadia, Raya and I; my eyes seeing the beautiful landscape, but my mind busy with this puzzle. It wasn't Selka... Selka was two years older than Moshe and I don't think they were both friends with the same girl. In addition, Pepe seemed like a nickname for another person, it didn't "feel" like it belonged to Selka. I thought that had it been Selka's nickname it would have come up somehow, I would have heard it from my mother, or it would have appeared in her memoirs.

  When we came back from our hike I quickly checked the memorial website and the photos again. I wrote to Miri:

  "... This is very strange... Moshe Kramer is certainly my uncle. It is the exact same photo that I sent you. His sister is Selka Kramer though, not Pepe. Possibly her nickname was Pepe, but I've never heard it before. Moshe Kramer had no other sisters except my mother and their sister Selka. There was one more cousin at home that they had adopted, but she was older than my mother. The strange thing is the wording on that web page: “Moshe Kramer, a good friend of Tonia... Both came from a large wealthy family of which no one survived." How could they not know that my mother (Moshe's sister) was living in Haifa all these years? How could Tonia, who published these photos, not know that?"

  The following morning Miri's reply was waiting in my inbox:

  Tonia Vermuth née Sternberg lives in a senior living complex in Haifa: Dor Carmel. She is in full possession of her facu
lties and you can simply talk to her. She has two daughters about our age... I will get you her phone number. I can't find it right now, but you can reach her daughter, Hanna Avni, by email..."

  I wrote to Hanna that day and asked if it would be possible to ask her mother some questions about my mother's family, about Moshe, Selka, and whether she was Pepe. I also asked if Tonka knew what happened to my mother's family. The next day Hanna responded:

  "Hi Yaron, I just got off the phone with my mother. She remembers the family. Moshe Kramer was her classmate. I will find out more when I visit her and will let you know. Best, Hanna."

  On Saturday evening I received another email:

  "Hi Yaron, last night I visited my mother armed with all the material your family published online. I arrived with mixed feelings, knowing it is emotionally taxing for her to talk about the past. My mother is the only survivor of a large, established family, who bravely and heroically survived many hardships on top of the traumas during the first years of the war when she was still with her family. Talking about these topics has always made her sad and brings up emotions that deprive her of sleep for days, so as her family we try to do so as little as possible. My mother knew your parents, especially your mother, and what little she told me about them corresponds with what you wrote. She also said she spent a lot of time at the Kramers' as she was friends with Pepe and Moshe, who were her age. Her parents also knew your grandparents on your mother's side. She says they were extraordinary people in their lives, in the values they lived by and the respect they afforded every man, including of course adopted family members, and the adopted daughter Pepe. It seems I was wrong when I wrote that Selka’s nickname was Pepe, so the picture's description should be amended. The person in the photo is Pepe, a close friend of my mother's. I quote: “Moshe would come over to our house and to the store every day. Pepe, the adopted daughter they treated just like their own, was my good friend and Moshe was also part of this friendship. On holidays they wanted her to go home and see her poor mother and orphan brothers, but she didn't want to and only did so because she had no choice.” My mother also says one of the two families that lived upstairs in the rented flat was the Greenberg family. Weddings were held in a place called Bristol and your parents probably got married there. My mother remembers well when your mother came to visit with the baby. My mother visited her often. She was 16 at the time, and remembers also when they went back to Palestine. My mother also remembers Zelda, but not Simka the doctor. The most interesting part of the story she told at the very end of our conversation: The family hid in a bunker (shelter?) with a door that had to be closed from the outside and then locked from the inside. Pepe sacrificed herself for them; she went out to close the door and was then discovered and killed. That's how those who were inside were also discovered. Moshe was the one to come and close the door to our bunker. The families were close and each felt the need to help the other... in the end they were all killed. The Nazis flooded the bunker and drowned them. My mother wasn't in the bunker, and maybe that's why she survived. Best to you and your family, Hanna."

  Wow. I did not expect such a letter. A short and concise description of the murder of my mother's family came from an unexpected source and with very little effort on my part. Again I felt that no sooner do I think of a missing piece of information than I promptly receive the answer in a surprising and unforeseen manner. I had no doubt that this was indeed how my mother's family came to their end, though a year ago I had different reports that told of the murder of my grandfather Menachem Mendel Kramer. At that time my sister bought me Marta Goren's book Voices from the Black Forest, a detailed and chilling account of the extermination of Chortkow's Jews. In the book I found an account of the murder of a man named Mendel Kramer:

  "On the night between the 26th and 27th of August 1942 the first evacuation Aktion took place in Chortkow. In this Aktion Jews were sent by train to the Belzec death camp. About 2,500 Jews were sent to their death. After the Aktion the bodies of 500-600 murdered Jews were strewn in the ghetto and town streets. When the Aktion was over, a few Jews were selected to gather the corpses. Three teams were formed, each with two Gestapo soldiers and one Jew... Mendel Kramer, a 65 year-old Jew, was among those to collect the bodies and pile them in the market square. Albert Brettschneider, of the Gestapo, ordered him to turn around and without reason shot him in the head.”

  As far as I know my grandfather was the only Mendel Kramer in Chortkow, but I could be wrong. So at first, I accepted this account of my grandfather's murder. That Gestapo officer was tried in Mannheim in 1974 and was sentenced to 20 years in jail, and likely died behind bars. After a more thorough examination though, the age of the man in the story did not fit my grandfather. My grandfather was born in 1890, so on the day of the Aktion he would have been only 52, not 65. I suppose the man who gave his account of the event knew Mendel Kramer or he wouldn't have mentioned his age, but I could be wrong. That's why Tonia's account "felt right", true and more reliable. Her close acquaintance with my family left no doubt in my heart regarding my mother's family's tragic end.

  A cynic might say that I could choose for myself one tragic end or the other, and I chose to believe the reliable information I received in that most unexpected way.

  I completed the puzzle using the new information I gathered and other bits and pieces to fill in the blanks; first with regards to Pepe, the new character who was now part of my family. Pepe was supposedly twelve years younger than my mother. Seeing as my mother first left Chortkow in 1934, and seeing as Pepe would have been about eleven at the time, it is likely that my mother didn't know her well and did not think of her as an integral part of the family. Maybe that's the reason she never mentioned Pepe in her family stories. To the best of my knowledge, Mother’s parents' home gradually emptied during the '30s and her parents, following family tradition, decided to adopt "a new daughter". I suppose that Pepe had lost her father, or that her poor family could not afford her school tuition, which would have been exceedingly expensive at the time so it is possible that my mother's parents decided to act as they had done before, and provide the girl with a new life, an education and financial stability. I believe Pepe came from Yazlovets near Buchach, where my grandfather's family was originally from. I am certain that the mere fact that Tonia remembered my parents' visit in Chortkow in 1939 shows that the two girls, 16 year-old Pepe and Tonia, enjoyed playing with my sister Ilana, the baby who came to Chortkow from Palestine and must have been a bit of an “attraction”. Tonia also remembers parting with my parents, after which the world turned upside down. The memorial webpage for Tonia Sternberg's family was like a window allowing me a peek into the past. The photos told a story of a different life, friendship among girls rowing a boat down the Seret River, or proudly posing for the camera in sweaters they had just finished knitting.

  Tonia Sternberg (right) and Pepe Kramer (left) on the Seret River

  Once I was able to absorb the new information and form a narrative that I thought made sense, I quickly responded to Hanna's email:

  "I am replying this late only because of the time difference, I am currently in the US. Many thanks for your letter, I was deeply touched. Please send my thanks to your mother as well. I am sure that bringing up these difficult memories is not easy for her or for yourself. I admire the people who were able to survive that hell, and build a new life and new families. It makes any difficulties we experience in our lives seem trivial by comparison. The information your mother provided sheds some light on the "black hole" that is my family history. My mother is about 12 years older than your mother. When my mother first left Chortkow for Palestine in 1934, her younger brother Moshe was about 12, approximately the same age as your mother and Pepe. From the stories I've heard over the years there were probably more orphans in the Kramer household, just as there were at the Finkelman household, my father's family. Most likely Pepe Kramer arrived at the house after my mother left for Palestine in 1934. Chances are she came from a place called
Yazlovets (Jazłowiec in Polish). Yazlovets was close to Buchach and about 50km from Chortkow. I know that's where the Kramers were from originally and that they had relatives in Yazlovets. If your mother remembers the name of the town Pepe came from or where she went on holidays (against her wishes) that mystery would be solved. I know for a fact that, during the Soviet occupation, the Kramers moved from, or were forced out of, their large house on Sobieskiego St. to a house at 10 Szkolna St. They may have moved a few more times in the following years. I was able to deduce that much from the return-address on the postcards they sent my mother after the Soviet occupation. The Greenberg family you mentioned in your email, may have lived in the Kramer’s first house or one of the others. As for how my mother's family met their end, this is completely new information to me. I was vaguely aware of hidden bunkers and tunnels, from stories that Zelda Finkelman-Liebling told me, but I had never heard such a stark description of the end of the Kramer family. It is both horrifying and moving. It is incredible to think that your mother, Pepe and Moshe had a normal life as teenagers and I am every bit as curious about their everyday normal life as I am about the war, its horrors and devastation. I wish I had that information. My mother and her family lost touch in 1940 when the letters and postcards stopped. So we have nothing about the family after the war broke out in 1939 and my parents left with my sister for Palestine. In fact, we have no information about the day-to-day life of the Kramer family from 1934 to 1939. Mother told us nothing. It's possible that she herself didn't know. My mother, who loved her little brother Moshe dearly, never forgave herself for not taking him along when they fled back to Palestine. These thoughts haunted her till the last days when I was still able to communicate with her. This month she'll turn 101, but I'm afraid she no longer responds, so I can’t converse with her. All her life Mother felt guilty for surviving while her whole family died. Hanna, I thank you for this important, fascinating and touching information. Best of health to your mother, and comfort from her family. I think I sound like someone who had a proper Chortkowic upbringing. I would be delighted with any additional scrap of information. And of course a special thanks to Miri – she deserves all the credit for this riddle. Yaron"