March 2023 - bruckfamilyblog.com

POST 130: NAZI-CONFISCATED BOOKS STORED IN RATIBOR (RACIBÓRZ, POLAND), MY FATHER’S BIRTH PLACE

Note: This post tiers off an earlier one where I discussed my failed attempt to obtain compensation for my family from the French Ministry of Culture for artworks confiscated from my father’s first cousin by Nazi authorities at the port of Bordeaux in December 1940. As I explained in Post 105, I’m my father’s cousin’s closest surviving blood relative. The Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg (ERR), the Nazi’s primary agency of plunder, spearheaded the seizure of artworks in Bordeaux but was also heavily involved in the plunder of libraries and archives throughout the areas the Nazis occupied. Surprisingly, many of the books wound up in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland], the town in Silesia where my father was born.

POST 126: MY GREAT-AUNT FRANZISKA BRUCK, FLORIST TO THE LAST GERMAN KAISER

POST 127: MY GREAT-AUNT ELSBETH BRUCK, “LA COMMUNISTE,” A DDR APPARATCHIK

This story begins in 2014 when I spent 13 weeks in Europe traveling from Poland to Spain exploring places associated with my Jewish family’s diaspora. This included visiting the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, Berlin’s westernmost borough, where the surviving papers of two of my renowned great-aunts, Franziska Bruck (1866-1942) and Elsbeth Bruck (1874-1970), are archived; both have been the subject of recent posts. I photographed all the documents, pictures, and personal effects in the files for later study.

Upon my return to the states, I tried to make sense of what I’d obtained. Obviously, the letters were most useful though some were handwritten in Sütterlinschrift or Kurrentschrift, historical forms of German handwriting that are indecipherable to me as well as most contemporary Germans; fortunately, I know a few older German friends and relatives who learned Sütterlin in school who were able to translate these letters for me.

The most informative letter, however, was a typed one, composed by one of my father’s first cousins, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, to her aunt, my great-aunt, Elsbeth Bruck in East Berlin. In this letter written in 1946, Hansi explained that a painting by her recently deceased brother Fédor Löwenstein had posthumously sold for 90,000 French Francs. (Figure 1) Realizing this represented a significant amount of money at the time, I began to suspect Fédor was an accomplished artist. I already knew of his existence from photographs and other letters found among my great-aunt’s papers. (Figure 2) Additionally, knowing Fédor had died in 1946 in Nice, France, I’d previously obtained his certificat de décès, death certificate, when I visited L’Hôtel de Ville in Nice, Nice’s City Hall.

Figure 1. The section of Jeanne Löwenstein’s 1946 letter to her aunt Elsbeth Bruck telling her of the posthumous sale of one of her brother Fédor Löwenstein’s paintings for 90,000 French Francs

Figure 2. Fédor Löwenstein (middle) and his brother Heinz with their mother Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck in Nice, France

I began my investigation in Nice by contacting the lady I know at L’Hôtel de Ville asking if she could find and send me Fédor’s obituary. This acquaintance did one better and sent me several web links with information about Fédor Löwenstein. Unbeknownst to me during my 13 weeks in Europe the Musée des Beaux-arts in Bordeaux, France had featured three of Fédor’s oil paintings on display between May 15^th and August 24th. Naturally, had I known about this special exhibit, I would have detoured there to see the artworks.

The exhibit catalog (livret_lowenstein.pdf (musba-bordeaux.fr) included a lot of detail on Fédor and his paintings, and their history. (Figure 3) The exhibit and the new information confirmed what I already suspected, namely, that Löwenstein had not been an ordinary painter. He was born on the 13^th of April 1901 in Munich. He studied at the School of Decorative Arts in Berlin, then at the Academy of Fine Arts in Dresden. In 1923, he moved to Paris, France, attracted by the artistic influence of the capital. Between the two world wars, an artistic movement dominated there referred to as École de Paris, the School of Paris, which was not an actual school. It was in this rich artistic context that Löwenstein painted and drew. His early works reflected the influence of cubism, and his subsequent creations evolved towards abstraction, although his personal style was on the border between the two. In 1936, Fédor joined the Salon des Surindépendants, an association of artists who no longer wanted an admission jury and questioned the restrictions imposed by the new regulations of the Salon des Indépendants of 1924.

Figure 3. The cover of the catalog from the 2014 exhibit at the Musée des Beaux-arts that displayed Fédor Löwenstein’s three “martyred” paintings

Fédor Löwenstein is often referred to as a Czechoslovakian painter because his father’s family was from there. The Munich Agreement concluded on the 30^th of September 1938, provided for the German annexation of land on the border between Czechoslovakia and Germany called the Sudetenland, where more than three million, mainly ethnic Germans, lived. Undoubtedly the signing of this agreement in the city where Fédor was born and involving the country where his father’s family originated inspired him to paint one of his iconic works, “La Chute,” “The Fall.” As the Bordeaux exhibit catalog notes, “The composition and iconographic vocabulary of the work are reminiscent of the convulsed and screaming silhouettes of Picasso’s Guernica. . .”

When France entered the war on the 3^rd of September 1939, Löwenstein, like many artists, left Paris. As a foreigner, he had to hide to escape the exclusion laws. Briefly, some background on this. During the interwar period, France was one of the more liberal countries in welcoming Jews, many of them from eastern Europe. However, in the wake of a significant influx of refugees fleeing Nazi Germany and the Spanish Civil War in the 1930s, the French government began to reassess their “open-door” policy. By 1939 the authorities had imposed strict limitations on immigration and set up several internment and detention camps for refugees, such as Gurs and Rivesaltes, in southern France. Various of my German ancestors got caught up in these detentions.

In the case of Fédor, however, he went to Mirmande in the Drôme Valley, more than 400 miles south of Paris, on the advice of a fellow artist, a place he’d previously stayed in 1935 and 1938. At the time, Miramande was a village in ruins that became a refuge for many Parisian artists of foreign origin. All seemed to lead a peaceful existence there except for the difficulties obtaining art supplies. In any case, sometime in May 1940, Fédor left Miramande for Paris to select works of art to be shipped to a gallery in New York City via the port of Bordeaux. These works would eventually be seized there in December 1940 by the Nazi authorities.

Bordeaux is located in Aquitaine, a historical region in southwestern France. Quoting from the exhibit catalog: “Considered a sensitive and strategic coastal area, the Atlantic coastline was governed in a special way by the army, and access to it was forbidden. Very quickly, the military authorities blocked the shipment of all goods then leaving the port of Bordeaux. December 5 [1940] seems to have been the date of an important seizure operation by the ERR (Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg), two sets of goods on their way out were confiscated.” This included Fédor Löwenstein’s consignment of works destined for America.

A little more history. German forces invaded France on May 10, 1940, and by June 22, 1940, France signed an armistice with Germany that went into effect on June 25, 1940. Under the terms of the armistice, Germany annexed the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine, and occupied the remainder of northern and western France. However, southern and eastern France remained unoccupied until November 1942. There a French collaborationist government, referred to as the Vichy Regime, governed. However, the suppression of the demarcation line in November 1942 caused the artist colony gathered in Miramande to break up. From then on, it was the French Resistance network that protected the refugees of Miramande, allowing many Jewish painters to escape.

By the fall of 1943, Fédor was already ill and traveled to Paris under a false identity to consult a specialist at the Curie Institute, though his disease was not diagnosed. His mastery of the French language, his support network, and his discretion about his religion were undoubtedly responsible for his survival during the Nazi occupation. Shortly after the war on the 4^th of August 1946 he was hospitalized and died a few days later of Hodgkin Lymphoma in Nice.

The 2014 exhibit at the Musée des Beaux-arts de Bordeaux (livret_lowenstein.pdf (musba-bordeaux.fr) was prompted by the rediscovery of three looted works of art, entitled “Landscape (Composition (Paysage)) (Figure 4),” “The Poplars (Les Peupliers),” and “The Trees (Arbres)” painted by Fédor Löwenstein that had been confiscated by the Nazis. As previously mentioned, the three works displayed were part of a consignment that F. Loevenstein, as Fédor signed his works, tried to send to an American gallery in New York. Seized at the port of Bordeaux in December 1940, they were sent to the Jeu de Paume in Paris, to be stored in the so-called “Salle des Martyrs,” “Martyrs Room” (Figure 5), a chamber to which works in a style repudiated by the aesthetics of the Third Reich, were relegated. It was only at the end of 2010 that the connection between these works that were held at the Musée National d’Art Moderne housed at the Centre Pompidou and the Löwenstein seizure at Hanger H in the port of Bordeaux was made.

Figure 4. Fédor Löwenstein’s painting entitled “Landscape (Composition)”

Figure 5. The so-called “Salle des Martyrs,” “Martyrs Room,” at the Jeu de Paume in Paris; Löwenstein’s painting “Landscape” is circled (Anonymous 1940. Archive from the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs)

Researchers Alain Prévet, Thierry Bajou, Edouard Vasseur, along with the curator of the Bordeaux exhibit Mme. Florence Saragoza, about whom more will be said below, identified the paintings. They accomplished this using two negatives preserved in the Archives of the National Museums that showed views of the Salle des Martyrs of the Jeu de Paume. The researchers undertook detailed digitization of these negatives, painting by painting, and reconciled this with data that had been recorded by Rose Valland, then curatorial attaché at the Jeu de Paume. (Figure 6) In the list that Rose Valland had drawn up in March 1942, she listed eleven works—six watercolors being grouped together in one lot—that had been stolen from Fédor Löwenstein. At least two of the artist’s paintings are visible in one of the photographs taken of the Salle des Martyrs.

Figure 6. Rose Valland, curatorial attaché at the Jeu de Paume, in the Martyrs Room

The Salle des Martyrs of the Jeu de Paume became the central repository of the works of art confiscated in France by the Nazi services, the contents of which were made available to the ERR, the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg (the Reichsleiter Rosenberg Taskforce). The ERR was one of the primary Nazi Party organizations dedicated to appropriating cultural property during WWII. It was led by the ideological henchman of the Nazi Party Alfred Rosenberg, from within the NSDAP Office of Foreign Affairs. Between 1940 and 1945, the ERR operated in France, Netherlands, Belgium, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Greece, Italy, and on the territory of the Soviet Union.

The Löwenstein works mentioned by Rose Valland and rediscovered in 2010 had also been catalogued by the ERR agents. They were listed under ERR file numbers Löwenstein 4 (Landscape), Löwenstein 15 (The Poplars), and Löwenstein 19 (The Trees). Following the war, the works were kept at the Musée National d’Art Moderne. The researcher Alain Prévet previously mentioned involved in the identification of the Löwenstein works has shown that the works were inventoried in 1973 as coming from an anonymous donation. The Bordeaux catalog notes the following:

“According to the minutes of the session of the Commission des Musées Nationaux of December 6, 1973, this ‘donation’ was in fact a regularization of artistic goods that had been ‘lying around’ in the Louvre; works that had ‘remained unclaimed, some of them for forty years,’ in a storeroom of the national museum. Because of the lack of knowledge of the real provenance of these works, it was decided to register them as ‘anonymous gifts’. . . works that had been deposited in the Louvre during the Occupation, following the Nazi spoliations, were . . . part of this collection. . .”

As the Bordeaux exhibit catalog notes, Löwenstein’s works, which are conserved to this day at the Musée National d’Art Moderne, Centre Pompidou “. . .bear the stigma of their aesthetic condemnation: a large red cross indicating that they were among others destined to be discarded. The files drawn up by the ERR bear the mention vernichtet, ‘destroyed’. . .The curator at the Jeu de Paume, Rose Valland, confirms this fatal destiny on July 20, 1943: ‘Scholz and his team continue to choose from among the paintings in the Louvre’s escrow and stab the paintings they do not want to keep. This is how they destroyed almost all of Masson’s works, all of Dali’s. The paintings in the Löwenstein, Esmont (sic), M[ichel]-G[eorges] Michel collections are almost all shredded (…)’’. . . On July 23, she added: ‘The paintings massacred in the Louvre’s sequestration were brought back to the Jeu de Paume. Five or six hundred were burned under German surveillance in the museum garden from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.. . .’” That Löwenstein’s three paintings escaped destruction is astonishing and is probably due to the fact they were classified as “paintings of lesser importance.”

Contained within the materials on the Löwenstein exhibit was the name of the curator who organized the show, Mme. Florence Saragoza, previously mentioned as one of the people involved in identifying Fédor’s works from the negatives of the Salle des Martyrs.

Intriguingly, also included within the Bordeaux museum’s promotional materials was the following statement in French:

“Si près de soixante-dix ans après la fin du conflit, de nombreux cas de restitution d’objets d’art restent en attente, trois d’entre eux sont désormais sortis de l’ombre et attendant maintenant l’identification des ayants droit de Wilhelm Fédor Löwenstein (1901-1946) pour être remis à leurs propriétaires légitimes.”

Translated :

“While nearly seventy years after the end of the conflict, many cases of art object restitution remain pending, three have now emerged from the shadows and are now awaiting the identification of the rightful owners of Wilhelm Fédor Löwenstein (1901-1946) to be returned to their rightful owners.”

This is a significant “concession.” Oftentimes, heirs of Jews whose works were either confiscated by the Nazis or whose sale was forced at a deeply discounted price and/or that eventually and illicitly wound up in museums spend years litigating their cases against these museums or private owners. The fact that the France Government’s Premier Ministre’s Commission for the Compensation of Victims of Spoliation or “CIVS” acknowledged that it was looking for the rightful heirs of goods taken illegally by the Nazis suggested the process of receiving compensation or acquiring possession could theoretically be short-circuited.

As I explained in detail in Post 105, I was able to establish contact with Mme. Florence Saragoza (Figure 7) who was literally brought to tears to learn that someone from Fédor Löwenstein’s family still exists. Florence, who I hold in the very, very highest esteem helped me file a claim in 2014 with the CIVS for compensation on behalf of my family; this involved requesting compensation for 25 pieces of art seized and/or destroyed.

For orientation, my father and Fédor were first cousins (Figure 8), so I would be Fédor’s first cousin once removed. Being intimately acquainted with my family tree and knowing that neither Fédor nor his two siblings ever had any children, I quickly realized I’m his closest surviving blood relative. Notwithstanding this fact, as I deeply lamented in Post 105, when the CIVS finally rendered their decision in June 2021, they refused to acknowledge I had any rights to compensation for the destruction and confiscation of Fédor’s artworks. Suffice it to say, because France is ruled by the principles of civil law rather than common law, my rights have been supplanted by Fédor’s siblings, who are obviously no longer alive, or by the heirs named in his sibling’s wills. The living heirs are referred to as “universal legatees,” and their rights according to French law supersede my own. That said, there is still some gray area based on which a French lawyer I’ve hired is contesting the decision. Stay tuned for further updates.

Figure 8. Heinz Löwenstein (middle) with my parents in Israel in 1973

Following their determination in 2021, the CIVS notified me that one of Fédor Löwenstein’s painting entitled “Composition” had been shipped to the Jewish Museum of New York for an exhibit entitled “Afterlives: Recovering the Lost Stories of Looted Art,” scheduled to run between August 20, 2021, and January 9, 2022. This was one of the paintings I had filed a claim for with the CIVS. Even though I’d been denied restitution by the French Minister of Culture, I took an avid interest in how the CIVS would handle the process going forward. For this reason, I ordered the exhibition catalog which, during Covid, took many months to arrive.

Tucked into the book was a surprising picture labeled as having been taken in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland]. This is the town where my father and many of his immediate family were born and where the family business, the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, operated through three generations. The photo shows crates containing thousands of books. According to the caption, in 1943 the Nazis established a research and sorting operation for plundered libraries in Ratibor. Eventually more than two million books were transported there. The photograph was included in the photo records of the Offenbach Archival Depot. (Figure 9) The Depot was a central collecting point in the American Sector of Germany for books, manuscripts and archival materials looted, confiscated, or taken by the German army or Nazi government from the occupied countries during World War II.

Figure 9. Post-WWII photo showing crates of books looted by the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg and shipped to Ratibor for sorting (photo from the National Archives Catalog “Photographs of the Operations of the Offenbach Archival Depot”)

The relocation of the ERR’s Book Control Center (Buchleitstelle) from Berlin to Ratibor in mid-1943 was prompted by the increased Allied bombing of Berlin, and a desire by the Nazis to save the books, at least until they’d had time to sort and save those they could use for propaganda. More on this below.

While I’d previously been unaware how my father’s hometown had been used during the war, Patricia Kennedy Grimstead, an academic from the Harvard Ukrainian Research Institute, has written extensively on the subject. In a seminal paper entitled “Roads to Ratibor: Library and Archival Plunder by the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg” she goes into great detail on her findings. According to Grimstead, the ERR Silesian research center in Ratibor “. . .was the recipient of archives and books the Nazis plundered as part of a vast ideological, political, and cultural policy. Unlike art, archival and library seizures were not for display, prestige, or profit. If they bolstered Hitler’s imperial pretensions or exposed the evils of ‘Bolshevism,’ then by all means they should be sought. . .Specialists catalogued, analyzed, and preserved the materials, treating them not only as the heritage of ‘enemies of the Reich’ but as raw material for propaganda for ‘operational’ use’” Books that did not meet these criteria were burned in spectacular bonfires or sent to pulping factories. (p. 391)

According to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum’s website, in a section on “Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg: A Policy of Plunder,” in January 1940 Hitler informed all offices of the Nazi Part that Alfred Rosenberg, head of the ERR, “. . .should be assisted in assembling a library for the planned new educational and research institute of the Party, the Hohe School, to be located at the Chiemsee in Bavaria. The library would contain 500,000 volumes. . .Preparations for the Hohe School also included other branches within the Reich, such as a ‘Center for Research on the Jewish Question’ in Frankfurt.”

The Jewish Museum exhibit catalog emphasizes this same point: “The segregation of Jews was enforced in a variety of ways. One distinctive strategy was to treat Jewish culture as the subject of historical inquiry, much as one might study a rare but obsolete specimen. Hitler called this an ‘anti-Semitism of reason,’ or ‘scientific anti-Semitism,’ which explicitly identified Jews in racial terms, rather than by religious affiliation. By the late 1930s research centers, institutes, and university departments had been founded throughout Germany and Austria to accommodate this burgeoning field and to inspire looting of works that were to be ‘saved’ expressly for the purpose of spurious academic research. Prominent among these was Alfred Rosenberg’s Institute for the Study of the Jewish Question (IEJ). It housed an estimated five hundred thousand books and manuscripts stolen from synagogues, Masonic temples, and private collections. Key to his mission was to set up a great Nazi university on the Chiemsee, in Bavaria, from the spoils of his plunder, including masterworks of both art and literature that would be instrumental in forming the curriculum.” (p. 54)

In this lengthy post, I reviewed and augmented what I had previously discussed in Post 105 regarding my failed attempt to obtain restitution on behalf of my family for paintings seized by the Nazi’s Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg (ERR) from my father’s first cousin. In the process, I learned more about this agency’s role in plundering books that wound up in Ratibor where my father was born. Following the capitulation of Ratibor at the end of WWII, many of the books confiscated by the Nazis in Western Europe were later moved by the Soviets to Minsk, capital of Soviet Belorussia. To this day, an estimated half a million of these books have not been returned to their countries of origin and are referred to as “twice plundered” books.

REFERENCES

Afterlives: Recovering the Lost Stories of Looted Art. 20 Aug. 2021-9 Jan. 2022, Jewish Museum, New York.

Alexander, Darsie & Sam Sackeroff. Afterlives: Recovering the Lost Stories of Looted Art. Yale University Press, 2021.

“Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg: A Policy of Plunder.” United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, https://www.ushmm.org/information/exhibitions/online-exhibitions/special-focus/offenbach-archival-depot/einsatzstab-reichsleiter-rosenberg-a-policy-of-plunder

Fédor Löwenstein (1901-1946), trois œuvres martyres. 15 May-24 Aug. 2014, Musée des Beaux-Arts de Bordeaux, Bordeaux.

“France.” United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/france

Grimstead, Patricia Kennedy. “Roads to Ratibor: Library and Archival Plunder by the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg.” Holocaust and Genocide Studies, vol. 19, no. 3, Winter 2005, pp. 390-458.

Musée des Beaux-arts de Bordeaux. Fédor Löwenstein, destin tragique d’un élève d’André Lhote.

Photographs of the Operations of the Offenbach Archival Depot. United States National Archive, 541611, https://catalog.archives.gov/search-within/541611?availableOnline=true&typeOfMaterials=Photographs%20and%20other%20Graphic%20Materials

“Reichsleiter Rosenberg Taskforce.” Wikipedia, https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reichsleiter_Rosenberg_Taskforce

POST 128, POSTSCRIPT: A TALE OF TWO DOTS-THE BRÜCK FAMILY FROM NEAR FRANKFURT: MORE FAMILY PHOTOS

Note: In this brief post, I discuss a few findings I made about Michael Bruck’s ancestors since the recent publication of Post 128. Also, based on the context in which some photos sent to me by Michael and his siblings were found, I speculate as to who the individuals might have been. It’s my hope that distant members of Michael’s family, some of whom have trees on ancestry, might stumble upon this post and either confirm or rebut my suppositions.

In Post 128, I discussed the family of an American gentleman named Michael Bruck (Figure 1) whose ancestors came from west of Frankfurt, Germany, and whose German surname originally had an “umlaut” over the “u.” Michael Bruck’s great-uncle, Max Brück (1884-1942) (Figure 2), and Max’s oldest son, Eugen Kurt Brück (1920-1942) (Figure 3), both perished in Auschwitz. Their fates had previously been unknown to Michael and his siblings, although rumors circulated within the family that an unnamed uncle had “disappeared” during the Holocaust. While investigating Michael’s relatives I learned that somehow Max’s wife, Elsa Brück née Neumeyer (1890-1993), and his daughter, Hilda Ruth Nathan née Brück (1925-2018), escaped Nazi Europe and made their way to the United States to live long productive lives. As discussed in Post 128, I confirmed this in a “Geneanet Community Tree Index” I found for Max Brück. (Figure 4)

Figure 2. Michael Bruck’s great-uncle Max Brück (1884-1942) who was murdered in Auschwitz

Figure 3. Max Brück’s eldest son, Eugen Kurt Brück (1920-1942), also murdered in Auschwitz

Figure 4. Max Brück’s “Geneanet Community Tree Index”

I have yet to figure out what made Elsa and Hilda’s escape to America possible while Max and Eugen Brück were unable to emigrate. From Elsa Brück’s January 1942 “Declaration of Intention” to become a U.S. citizen (Figure 5), I know she arrived in New York on the 20^th of August 1941 aboard the “SS Ciudad de Sevilla” and emigrated from Barcelona, Spain. Incredulously, on this declaration, Elsa reports that her son Eugen was then “residing” in “Camps des Milles,” outside Aix-en-Provence, France. One could hardly refer to Camps des Milles as a residence since it was a temporary detention center for Jews being deported to Drancy, outside Paris, then on to Auschwitz.

Figure 5. Elsa Bruck née Neumeyer’s January 1942 “Declaration of Intention” to become a U.S. citizen

Euphemisms aside, knowing that Elsa and Hilda Brück survived, I Googled them. I quickly discovered both were featured on the “Alabama Holocaust Education Center” website. (Figures 6-7) As sought after speakers on the Holocaust, they helped fulfill the Education Center’s mission of “keeping the history and lessons of the Holocaust alive.” Unlike many other German Jews who converted, they remained practicing Jews and were active in the Congregation B’nai Shalom in Huntsville, Alabama. Of particular interest to Michael and me was that Elsa’s personal page on the Education Center’s website included a picture of she and Max (Figure 8); similarly, Hilda’s personal page showed a picture of her later in life. Elsewhere, on a family tree on ancestry I discovered a heartwarming picture of Elsa Brück, also from later in life. (Figure 9)

Figure 6. Elsa Brück née Neumeyer’s featured page on the “Alabama Holocaust Education Center” website

Figure 7. Hilda Nathan née Brück’s featured page on the “Alabama Holocaust Education Center” website

Figure 8. Photo of Max and Elsa Brück found both on the “Alabama Holocaust Education Center website and on a family tree on ancestry

Figure 9. Photo of Elsa Brück née Neumeyer later in life from a family tree on ancestry

Michael and his siblings shared other unidentified photos found among their grandfather Arthur Brück’s surviving papers. The only identification on one of the pictures is “father”; he is seated alone in this picture (Figure 10), but in an accompanying image is photographed at his marriage with a woman who is obviously his wife. Knowing Arthur’s family tree from the Community Tree Index, I surmise the photo is of Max and Arthur’s parents, Karl Simon Brück (1844-1927) and Christiane Karoline Brück née Kuhn (1854-1929). (Figure 11) The minimal identification and the context in which these photos were found is what confidently causes me to believe they are Arthur’s parents.

Figure 10. Photo I speculate is of Arthur and Max Brück’s father, Karl Simon Bruck (1844-1927)

Figure 11. Wedding photo I speculate is of Arthur and Max Brück’s parents Karl Simon Bruck (1844-1927) and Christiane Karoline Brück née Kuhn (1854-1929)

Michael shared another set of photographs. One picture shows a couple (Figure 12), the second the same lady alone. (Figure 13) Again, the context in which these pictures were found, and the estimated age of the photos provides a clue as to who is illustrated.

Figure 12. Photo I speculate is of Arthur and Max Brück’s younger sister, Selma Brück, and her husband Albert Daniel

Figure 13. Photo I speculate is of Arthur and Max Brück’s younger sister, Selma Brück

In Post 128, I discussed a picture-postcard mailed in around 1934 from Munich signed by Max Brück’s wife Elsa and their three children, Eugen (1920-1942), Werner (1922-1936), and Hilda (1925-2018). (Figures 14a-b) The card was addressed to Max Brück’s sister and brother-in-law, Selma Daniel née Brück (1886-1965) and Albert Daniel. The card was mailed to the corset factory in Saarbrücken owned by Albert Daniel. I am reasonably confident the unidentified couple are Selma and Albert Daniel.

Figure 14a. A picture-postcard from around 1934 showing from left to right Eugen Brück, Hilda Ruth Brück, and Werner Alexander Brück, Max and Elsa Brück’s three children

Figure 14b. The text side of the picture-postcard signed by Else Brück and her three children sent to her sister- and brother-in-law in Saarbrücken

In making these tentative identifications, it is not my intention to presumptuously override any thoughts that Michael and his siblings may have as to who is pictured. Rather, it is to provoke any distant family members with further knowledge or ancestral trees posted on ancestry to hopefully stumble on my blog post and come forward to corroborate or refute my speculations.

POST 62, POSTSCRIPT 2: THE FAR-REACHING SEARCH FOR MY FATHER’S FIRST COUSIN, HEINZ LUDWIG BERLINER: ANOTHER DEADEND

Note: While continuing my longstanding search for Heinz Ludiwg Berliner, one of my father’s first cousins who is reported to have wound up in Bolivia, I learned that he was merely one of about 20,000 Jews who escaped there from Nazi Europe. I discuss Bolivia’s motivation for allowing so many European Jews into the country when the doors to them in most other countries had been closed.

POST 62, POSTSCRIPT: THE FAR-REACHING SEARCH FOR MY FATHER’S FIRST COUSIN, HEINZ LUDWIG BERLINER—FURTHER PROOF OF HEINZ’S EXISTENCE

POST 122: HERTA BRAUER, THE FAMILY CONNECTION TO THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC’S NOTORIOUS DICTATOR, RAFAEL TRUJILLO

POST 129: THE UNSUCCESSFUL QUEST TO TRACK DOWN DR. ERICH BRUCK IN ARGENTINA

The Circulo Israelita de Bolivia ( Jews of Bolivia (haruth.com ) is the highest synagogue on earth, located at an altitude of more than 12,000 feet in La Paz, Bolivia. The synagogue serves the 500 to 700 Jews in a country where the citizens are predominantly Catholic. It retains copies of various documents and newspaper clippings related to the immigration of Jewish people to Bolivia and the creation of the Jewish communities in La Paz, Cochabamba, and Santa Cruz. I first contacted the Circulo Israelita de Bolivia in 2019 after learning that my father’s first cousin, Heinz Ludwig Berliner, survived the Holocaust by somehow making his way there. (Figure 1) I had hoped they might have evidence of Heinz’s presence in the country, but regrettably not.

Figure 1. Page from MyHeritage ancestral database entitled “German Minority Census, 1939,” showing a Heinz Ludwig Berliner born in Ratibor on the 24th of September 1916, living in Berlin-Charlottenburg at the time, who emigrated to Bolivia

After my last contact with the synagogue in January 2020, shortly before the Covid pandemic burst upon the global scene, I set aside my pursuit to track down my father’s first cousin. Thus, it came as a big surprise when the Circulo reached out to me recently with new information. I’d clearly planted a seed during our earlier exchanges. Synagogue staff explained that an anthropologist named Dr. Sandra Gruner-Domić is currently in Bolivia doing research on the history of Jews there, and the topic of Heinz Berliner came up.

It turns out, Dr. Gruner-Domić had found a so-called “Censo De Extranjeros,” a foreigner census form (Figure 2), for a gentleman named Erich Blumenthal Berliner. This document is a mandatory declaration that Bolivia’s Minister of Immigration required be filled out by all foreign immigrants. Obviously, given the identical surname to my ancestor Heinz Berliner caused synagogue staff and Dr. Gruner-Domić to wonder whether there might be any connection between these two Berliners. After briefly getting my hopes up, I quickly realized they are not related in any way I can easily discern.

Figure 2. A “Censo to Extranjeros,” a foreigner census form, for a gentleman named Erich Blumenthal Berliner who arrived in Bolivia the 2nd of October 1939; this census form was sent to me by Dr. Sandra Gruner-Domić, a Fulbright Scholar studying Jewish migration to Bolivia between 1937 and 1941

Still, as I had done and discussed in Post 129 for my unrelated but similarly surnamed individual named Dr. Henrik Brück, interred in “El Cementerio Judio” in Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña in Chaco Province, Argentina, I searched in ancestry for any evidence of Erich Berliner’s life in Germany. Intriguingly, I found his marriage certificate showing he married a woman a widow or divorcee named Edith Charlotte Rotenstein née Totschek in Berlin in 1934 (Figures 3a-c); this matches the maiden name of Erich Berliner’s wife on his foreigner census form. So, just as I had tracked Dr. Henrik Brück to his place of birth in Alba Iulia, Romania from Argentina, I was similarly able to backtrack from Bolivia Erich Berliner to his place and date of marriage in Berlin. Relevantly, however, neither is related to me.

Figure 3a. Cover page of Erich Berliner’s marriage certificate showing he married the widow or divorcee Edith Charlotte Rotenstein née Totschek on the 14th of November 1934 in Berlin

Figure 3b. Page 1 of Erich Berliner’s 1934 marriage certificate

Figure 3c. Page 2 of Erich Berliner’s 1934 marriage certificate

I exchanged a few emails with Dr. Gruner-Domić incidentally sharing Erich Berliner’s Berlin marriage certificate ruefully remarking this Berliner is unrelated to Heinz. Sandra then sent me a page from the database of individuals buried in the Jewish cemetery in Cochabamba with the names of two other Berliners, Frida and Lothar Berliner, with their specific birth and death dates. (Figure 4) This also allowed me to check their names in ancestry. I was very precisely able to find a birth certificate for an Adolf Lothar Berliner who was born in Berlin on the 11^th of October 1883 matching the date of birth from the Cochabamba database. (Figures 5a-b) I also found Lothar’s marriage certificate showing he got married on the 11^th of July 1921 in Berlin to a woman named Frieda Anna Pauline Dammann born the 24^th of November 1887. (Figures 6a-c) While her forename matches the Berliner buried in Cochabamba and I believe her to be Lothar’s wife, her date of birth is different. What to make of this is unclear.

Figure 4. Partial database of names of people interred in the cemetery in Cochabamba, Bolivia with the birth and death dates of two Berliners, Frida and Lothar Berliner

Figure 5a. Cover page of Adolf Lothar Berliner’s birth certificate showing he was born on the 11th of August 1883 in Berlin, matching information from the Cochabamba, Bolivia cemetery database

Figure 5b. Adolf Lothar Berliner’s 1883 birth certificate

Figure 6a. Cover page of Adolf Lothar Berliner’s marriage certificate showing he married Frieda Anna Pauline Dammann on the 11th of July 1921 in Berlin

Figure 6b. Page 1 of Adolf Lothar Berliner’s 1921 marriage certificate

Figure 6c. Page 2 of Adolf Lothar Berliner’s 1921 marriage certificate

In trying to find a photo of Sandra to include in this post (Figure 7), I learned much more about how Jews found refuge in Bolivia during the Nazi era. I’ll briefly review the historical context for this based on a Webinar Sandra delivered at the JDC Archives in May 2022: “Sandra Gruner-Domić Lectures on Bolivia, a Forgotten Refuge During the Holocaust: Jewish Immigration 1937-1941 | JDC Archives” This is a topic of potentially much greater interest to readers than my search for Heinz Berliner, although it fits well into trying to better understand how he wound up in Bolivia.

Dr. Gruner-Domić is a migration scholar and is on a Fulbright Scholarship to Bolivia for the 2022-2023 academic year. Recently, she has been examining the immigration of Jewish refugees in Bolivia during the Holocaust, including the role played by a Moritz Hochschild, a Jewish entrepreneur, and the second-wealthiest man in Bolivia at the time.

The immigration of Jewish refugees to Bolivia is a lesser-known chapter of the Holocaust. Amazingly, approximately 20,000 Jewish refugees fleeing Nazi Europe arrived in Bolivia between 1937 and 1941, at a time when other Latin American countries had closed their doors. Bolivia was among the 32 nations who attended the Évian Conference in July 1938 at Évian-les-Bains, France, to address the problem of German and Austrian Jewish refugees wishing to flee persecution by Nazi Germany. The conference was deemed a failure because aside from the Dominican Republic, delegations from the participating nations failed to come to any agreement about accepting the Jewish refugees fleeing the Third Reich. At the Évian Conference Bolivia also refused to accept any Jewish refugees.

However, a month after the conference Bolivia notified the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees of their willingness to begin accepting Jewish refugees. So, along with Shanghai and the Dominican Republic, Bolivia was the last country in the world in the lead up to WWII still issuing visas to Jews trying to flee Nazi persecution. Regular readers will recall that in Post 122, I talked about how another one of my relatives, Herta Brauer, escaped to the Dominican Republic.

As just mentioned, Bolivia issued 20,000 visas to Jewish refugees between 1937 and 1941. Let’s briefly examine Bolivia’s motivation for deciding to do so.

Between 1932 and 1935, Bolivia and Paraguay fought the Chaco War over control of the northern part of the Gran Chaco region, known in Spanish as Chaco Boreal, which was thought to be rich in oil. (Figure 8) The Chaco War was the bloodiest interstate military conflict fought in South America during the 20^th century and was fought between two of the continent’s poorest countries, both of whom had lost territory to neighbors during 19^th century wars. Bolivia lost its Pacific coast to Chile during the 1879 War of the Pacific, while Paraguay lost almost half of its territory to Brazil and Argentina in the Paraguayan War of 1864 to 1870. As a result both countries wound up landlocked. Although the 600,000 km2 of the Gran Chaco region was sparsely populated, control of the Paraguay River running through it was especially important to Bolivia because it would have provided access to the Atlantic Ocean.

Figure 8. Topographic map of South America showing where the Gran Chaco region is situated (Image Natural Earth, kk – nationsonline.org)

In any case, because of the war, Bolivia lost almost 60,000 people, or roughly 2 percent of its population; in addition, Paraguay captured around 10,000 Bolivian civilians, many of whom decided to stay in Paraguay after the war. Clearly, Bolivia was hemorrhaging people. Following the war, Bolivia was trying to counter its population loss as well as stem further losses by people seeking better economic opportunities in surrounding countries.

After the Chaco War, Bolivia was at an important historical crossroad amidst a nationalist resurgence. Immigration was one step in the country’s transformation, the goals of which were to modernize and repopulate the country, as well as colonize the eastern region of the country with the aim of expanding agricultural development there. Beginning in January 1937, President José David Toro Ruilova once again allowed the free entry of foreigners into the country that had been suspended during the Chaco War. Shortly thereafter Jews began to arrive in Bolivia.

The year 1937 was a turning point for Jews in Europe, with a massive exodus beginning in 1938, and the years 1938 and 1939 being characterized as the “Panic Migration Years.” The involvement of Moritz (Mauricio) Hochschild, a Jew who’d emigrated to Bolivia during the 1920’s, played a part in allowing Jews from Nazi Europe to enter the country. As Bolivia’s second wealthiest man and a leading mining industry businessman, he became an economic advisor to President Toro; the two of them found commonality and their personal relationship played a role in convincing Bolivia to allow Jewish migration. According to Dr. Gruner-Domić, the refugees arriving from Europe were viewed primarily as Europeans and secondly as Jews.

The first concrete measure taken by the Bolivian government was an agreement it signed in January 1937 with the Polish government to allow the resettlement of 250 Jewish families; an agreement was also signed with then-Czechoslovakia. In a few instances, even Jews who’d been incarcerated in concentration camps were released if they’d been lucky enough to obtain a Bolivian visa.

Prior to the mass migration of Jews into Bolivia, which peaked in 1939, there were only about 200 Jews in the entire country. It’s reported that on the 22^nd of February 1939 alone, more than 800 Jews arrived. The arrival of this many Jews at once strained the country’s infrastructure, so a decision was made to limit the number of refugees to 250 a month, though it’s unclear this limit was ever implemented.

The path by which most European Jews who’d secured a Bolivian visa came was via boat leaving from Hamburg, Germany or Milano, Italy, traveling through the Panama Canal, landing in Arica, Chile (Figure 9), then taking the train to La Paz; others came via train from Argentina or Brazil. Most Jews who found refuge in Bolivia in the late 1930’s and 1940’s did not stay, so today’s Jewish population is estimated at between 500 and 700. Following the war, those who had families elsewhere left. Judging from the relatively small number of Jews in Bolivia today, I reckon that Heinz Berliner was among those who decamped to a yet unknown country.

Figure 9. Map of Bolivia in relationship to Arica, Chile along the Pacific coast showing where most Jewish refugees arriving from Europe landed and took the train to La Paz

POST 129: THE UNSUCCESSFUL QUEST TO TRACK DOWN DR. ERICH BRUCK IN ARGENTINA

Note: In this post I talk about the failed search for my first cousin twice removed Dr. Erich Bruck whom I have tantalizing evidence wound up in the Argentinian part of Tierra del Fuego. I discuss the proof I obtained in confirming that a similarly named Dr. Enrik Bruck who is buried in Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña, a town more than 2,300 miles away from Tierra del Fuego, is not my distant cousin.

POST 62, POSTSCRIPT: THE FAR-REACHING SEARCH FOR MY FATHER’S FIRST COUSIN, HEINZ LUDWIG BERLINER—FURTHER PROOF OF HEINZ’S EXISTENCE

POST 113: CHIUNE SUGIHARA, JAPANESE IMPERIAL CONSUL IN LITHUANIA DURING WWII, “RIGHTEOUS AMONG THE NATIONS”

Dr. Erich Bruck is my first cousin twice removed born in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland], same town as my father Dr. Otto Bruck, on the 31^st of August 1865. I have evidence of his birth from the Family History Library’s Microfilm Roll 1184449 for Jewish births in Ratibor. (Figure 1) He was one of 14 or 15 children born to my great-granduncle- and -grandaunt, Oskar Bruck (1831-1892) and Mathilde Bruck née Preiss. At the tail end of Post 113, I included a table with the available vital statistics on these children. Astonishingly, to date, I’ve been unable to find a single living descendant for any of these offspring.

Figure 1. Birth register listing from the Family History Library’s Microfilm Number 1184449 for Erich Bruck showing his parents were Oscar Bruck and Mathilde née Preiss and that he was born on the 31st of August 1865

Unlike some of his siblings who perished in the Holocaust, Erich is believed to have survived. As briefly mentioned in Post 113, a tantalizing clue as to Erich’s fate was found in the “Pinkus Family Collection 1500s-1994, 1725-1994” archived at the Leo Baeck Institute. On the Oskar Bruck-Mathilde Preiss family page, names and some vital data on 12 of their 14 or 15 “kinder,” children, can be found, including information on Dr. Erich Bruck. (Figure 2) It confirms he was born on the 31^st of August 1865 in Ratibor, was a doctor in Argentina, and emigrated to “Feuerlandinseln,” Tierra del Fuego Islands in the 19^th century. Beyond the fact this is an unusual place for an individual to have emigrated to, this is the closest I’ve been to finding a Jewish ancestor in Antarctica, still more than 2,300 miles away, the only continent where my family’s diaspora has not yet taken me.

Figure 2. Page from the “Pinkus Family Collection 1500s-1994, 1725-1994” archived at the Leo Baeck Institute on the Oskar Bruck-Mathilde Preiss family with vital data on 12 of their 14 or 15 children, including Erich Bruck; this is the source for the information that Erich Bruck was a doctor and emigrated to Tierra del Fuego, Argentina

Some brief geography. Tierra del Fuego, Spanish for “Land of the Fire,” is an archipelago off the southernmost tip of the South American mainland, across the Strait of Magellan. The archipelago consists of the main island, Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego, with an area of 18,572 sq. mi. (48,100 km2), and a group of many islands, including Cape Horn and Diego Ramírez Islands. Tierra del Fuego is divided between Chile and Argentina, with the latter controlling the eastern half of the main island and the former the western half plus the islands south of Beagle Channel and the southernmost islands. Ushuaia is the capital of Tierra del Fuego, with a population of nearly 80,000 and claims the title of the world’s southernmost city. The family page from the Pinkus Family Collection makes it clear that Dr. Erich Bruck was a physician in Argentina, not in Chile.

My quest to discover what may have happened to Dr. Erich Bruck has been ongoing for several years interrupted by investigations into other ancestors. Obviously aware of an Argentinian connection, in 2021 I contacted the “Asociación de Genealogía Judía de Argentina (AGJA),” the Jewish Genealogical Society of Argentina, asking whether they or another genealogical association or group could provide any information about my distant cousin. I received a prompt response from a Ms. Estela Rappaportt (Figure 3) referring me to a Facebook group located in the Ushuaia community of Tierra del Fuego. I contacted them but never received a reply.

Figure 3. Ms. Estela Rappaportt from the “Asociación de Genealogía Judía de Argentina (AGJA),” the Jewish Genealogical Society of Argentina

More intriguingly, Estela mentioned there is a tomb in the province of Chaco in Argentina, in the city of Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña, of an Enrik Bruck, who died there on 31^st of May 1931. Given that Erich Bruck was born in 1865, the age of this individual at death at least seemed like a plausible match. Moreover, I thought his forename might well have been changed to Enrik in Spanish. Ignoring the fact that Tierra del Fuego and Sáenz Peña in Chaco Province are more than 2,300 miles apart (Figure 4), I became obsessed with the notion that my distant relative is interred there. How Erich Bruck might have wound up in Sáenz Peña after living in Tierra del Fuego was an afterthought.

Figure 4. Generalized map showing the distance between Tierra del Fuego and Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña where Dr. Enrik Bruck is buried is more than 2,300 miles

Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña in Chaco Province is under 700 miles from Buenos Aires (Figure 5), and has a population of 83,000 people, mostly descendants of settlers from Spain, Italy, Russia, Poland, then-Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria, and Ukraine, as well as Jewish families from elsewhere in Argentina. Sáenz Peña was founded in 1912 and has developed as a commercial and industrial center serving the surrounding agricultural region of the Gran Chaco plains. In 1945, the Jewish population numbered around 200 families, though today fewer than ten Jewish families remain.

Figure 5. Generalized map showing the distance between Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña and Buenos Aires is less than 700 miles

With Jews having lived in and around Sáenz Peña, it stands to reason there would be a Jewish cemetery. And, in fact, I learned about Saenz Peña’s “El Cementerio Judio,” a Jewish cemetery dating from 1920 with 120 graves, formerly called “Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña Cementerio.” The information about this Jewish cemetery was derived from the International Jewish Cemetery Project, which is a volunteer, cooperative effort of the International Association of Jewish Genealogical Societies and JewishGen, Inc.’s “JewishGen Online Worldwide Burial Registry” or “JOWBR” which seeks to identify Jewish burial sites and interments throughout the world.

I tried contacting the Sáenz Peña’s Ayuntamiento, the city’s town hall, but never received a response. I tried working through a friend at the Jewish Genealogical Society of Los Angeles and her Rabbi to establish a local contact but this too failed. I even tried having South American relatives call the Jewish cemetery’s caretaker, all to no avail. Because information on the International Jewish Cemetery Project regarding gaining entry to the cemetery implied the process was rather informal (Figure 6), I set the issue aside for future consideration. Nonetheless, I remained stubbornly convinced that my ancestor was interred in the Jewish cemetery in Saenz Peña and had eventually intended to go on a letter-writing campaign to confirm this.

Figure 6. Information about the Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña’s “El Cementerio Judío” from the International Jewish Cemetery Project

Let me briefly digress. Like most avid genealogists, I have a “bin” of unresolved genealogical questions, quests if you will. In Post 62 and Post 62, Postscript, I discussed my father’s first cousin, Heinz Ludwig Berliner, who, like Erich Bruck and my father, was born in Ratibor; “Berliner,” incidentally, was my paternal grandmother’s maiden name. Hearsay from Heinz’s branch of the family suggests he committed suicide in 1948, place unknown.

Heinz’s last known location is in Bolivia. A brief reference in MyHeritage stated he wound up there. In 2019, I contacted the Jewish synagogue in La Paz, the Circulo Israelita de Bolivia, hoping they might have immigration or other records on Heinz, which they do not. At the time, I mistakenly concluded the theater where Heinz had performed under his stage name “Enry Berloc,” the “Teatro Municipal,” was in Buenos Aires rather than in La Paz (Figure 7); as a result the Circulo referred me to the AMIA in Argentina, the central institution of the country’s Jewish community. AMIA, in turn, directed me to the “Asociación de Genealogía Judía de Argentina (AGJA),” which is how I encountered Ms. Rappaportt.

Figure 7. Playbill from the “Teatro Municipal” I originally thought was located in Buenos Aires for a performance my distant cousin Heinz Ludwig Berliner starred in, using his stage name “Enry Berloc”; it turns out the Teatro Municipal is located in La Paz, Bolivia

My contact with the Circulo Israelita de Bolivia was not for naught, however, as I will explain in another postscript to Post 62.

Getting back on track. A recent email from the Circulo Israelita de Bolivia reminded me I had never connected with Saenz Peña’s El Cementerio Judio, so I decided to again contact Ms. Rappaportt from AGJA asking her who I should write to in Saenz Peña about Enrik Bruck. Estela sent me the name and email of the President of the Kehilá or village of Sáenz Peña, but then almost immediately sent me a photo of Enrik Bruck’s headstone. (Figure 8) To say I was flabbergasted would be an understatement given that I’d been looking for such information for years.

Figure 8. Photo of Enrik Bruck’s headstone from the “Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña Cementerio” sent to me by Ms. Estela Rappaport

While I never asked Estela where she obtained the photo, I eventually located it on my own on the JOWBR website. I have literally looked at hundreds of burial registry records on JOWBR’s website (Figures 9a-b), and this is the first time I’ve ever seen one with a picture of the individual’s gravestone, so I consider myself fortunate to have obtained this image without going down more rabbit trails.

Figure 9a. Page from the “JewishGen Online Worldwide Burial Registry” or “JOWBR” with information on the “Presidencia Roque Sáenz Peña Cementerio”

Figure 9b. Page from the “JewishGen Online Worldwide Burial Registry” or “JOWBR” with the photo of Enrik Bruck’s headstone

At first glance, Enrik’s tombstone appears unreadable but enlarging and zeroing in on the text I realized that a lot of information was decipherable. (Figure 10)

Figure 10. Closeup of (H)ENRIC BRUCK’s headstone showing detailed information

Below is what I managed to construe:

DOCTOR

O.E.P.

(H)ENRIK BRUCK

NACIO EN ALBA JULIA (born in Alba Iulia)

EL 16 DE DICIEMBRE xxxx (the 16^th of December xxxx)

FALLECIO EL 31 DE Mxxxx (passed away the 31^st of xxx (May according to JewishGen))

DE MUERTE PE (of death xx)

Armed with what seemed like rather scant details, I first turned to Google to learn where “Alba Julia” is located. I discovered it is in Transylvania, the historical and cultural region in Central-Eastern Europe, that now encompasses central Romania. Alba Iulia, as it is called, was the seat of residence of the princes of Transylvania in the 16^th and 17^th centuries, and for several centuries was administered by Hungary. In the 17^th century there were about 100 Jews living in Alba Iulia, and by 1930, 1,558 out of 12,282 people living there were Jewish. By 1941, all Jewish community property had been confiscated, and the men seized for forced labor. The Jewish population peaked in 1947 at over 2,000, but by the beginning of the 21^st century, the Jewish population in Alba Iulia, as well as in the rest of Romania, was very small.

Next, I searched in ancestry for Enrik Bruck in Alba Iulia, and surprisingly found two births registers listing a Henrik Brück, with an umlaut over the “u,” born there on the 16^th of December 1888. (Figures 11a-c) Since the place and day of birth match the information on the headstone located in Saenz Peña, I am certain the individual interred there is Dr. Henrik Brück.

Figure 11a. Cover page for birth register listing for Henrik Brück showing he was born on the 16th of December 1888 in Alba Iulia, Romania

Figure 11b. Version 1 of birth register listing for Henrik Brück showing he was born on the 16th of December 1888 in Alba Iulia, Romania

Figure 11c. Version 2 of birth register listing for Henrik Brück showing he was born on the 16th of December 1888 in Alba Iulia, Romania

While disappointed so far not to have tracked down my distant cousin Dr. Erich Bruck in Argentina, I am now certain he is not interred in Sáenz Peña. Ms. Rappaportt, who has relatives in Ushuaia, the capital of Tierra del Fuego, tells me there is no Jewish cemetery there. An online search of the cemetery records in Ushuaia and Río Grande, Tierra del Fuego’s two largest cities, show no Brucks interred there. So, while the question of where Erich Bruck wound up remains unresolved, I was finally able to establish the identity and origin of the Brück who lies in Sáenz Peña.

REFERENCE

Nimcowicz, Diane. Jewish Genealogical Research in Argentina. Arhttps://www.jewishgen.org/InfoFiles/argentina.htmlgentina