Note: In this post, I discuss how I’m related to two living Brucks I’ve known for half-a-dozen years, and how I inadvertently stumbled on the answer and responded to their question, “Where’s the smoking gun?”
This story begins in 1951. Soon after I was born, my parents received a congratulatory note from my father’s uncle, Wilhelm “Willy” Bruck, then living in Barcelona, Spain. (Figure 1) As a boy, I would later meet my great-uncle’s daughter Eva in New York when she came to visit the family but never realized who she was. (Figure 2) Though I met her only once, I remember her fondly because she gave me an old silver coin I still cherish (i.e., readers will recall I’ve been a lifelong coin collector). Because of my father’s rather dismissive attitude towards family, except for his beloved sister Susanne murdered in Auschwitz, naturally he lost contact with most of his relatives. Thus, when I began my forensic investigations into my family, I was left to reconstruct and find family descendants on my own, years after my father was gone and might have helped.
Aware some family members had wound up in Barcelona, I began my search there vaguely cognizant my great-uncle Willy may have had grandchildren. To remind readers, I discussed the search for my great-uncle and his descendants in Posts 32 and 33. Since this remains one of my all-time favorite family quests, I will briefly remind readers how I met the two Brucks, first cousins to one another, as what can only be characterized as serendipity. I thought perhaps my great-uncle’s grandchildren, my second cousins that’s to say, might live in Barcelona. I started by checking the White Pages for Barcelona and found nary any Brucks there. I expanded my search to all of Spain and discovered 14 listings. I immediately did the calculus, and said to myself, “No problem, I’ll write to all of them!” And, this is in fact what I did in late 2013.
Many weeks passed with no responses. Then, early one Saturday morning, I received a call from a gentleman in Haifa, Israel by the name of “Michael Bruck.” I had no known relatives there so was intrigued why this namesake was calling. He quickly explained I’d written to his first cousin Ronny Bruck in Alicante, Spain inquiring about my great-uncle Willy. Aha! Michael is the family genealogist, so Ronny forwarded him my letter, ergo his call. I must share one other alluring aspect of this story that corroborates what Branch Rickey, the brainy former General Manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers, once said: “Luck is the residue of design.” That’s to say, luck doesn’t just happen, you create the circumstances to get lucky. For those who may be familiar with the postal service in Spain, they’ll know it’s notoriously unreliable. The letter I sent to Ronny inquiring about my great-uncle Willy not only arrived safely, but it arrived in his mailbox on his 65th birthday, making him believe some unknown cousin from America was sending him well-wishes! The stars were obviously properly aligned.
All my letters to the Brucks residing in Spain had included a photo of my great-uncle, and Michael immediately noted the family resemblance (Figure 3), even though he’d never come across Wilhelm Bruck’s name in connection with his own research. In 2014, my wife and I had already planned to spend 13 weeks in Europe visiting places associated with my family from northeastern Poland to southern Spain, so I suggested we all meet in Spain. Meeting there was not possible, so Ronny suggested Germany instead, and Michael and his wife joined us from Israel. Thus, in 2014, we met in person at the home of my first cousin. (Figures 4-5) Despite our in-depth respective knowledge of our family trees, over the years, Michael and I could never pinpoint how closely or distantly we are related.
Fast forward to the present. My previous post told the story about obtaining the complete roster of students who were enrolled in the Ratibor Gymnasium, high school, between its opening in 1819 and 1849; Ratibor is the town in Upper Silesia where my father was born in 1907, and where many Brucks hail from. Among the first-year students who attended the Ratibor Gymnasium upon its opening were two brothers, Isaac and Samuel Bruck. (Figures 6a-b) As I told readers in Post 73, Samuel Bruck is my great-great-grandfather, and is known to me. (Figure 7) His brother Isaac was completely unfamiliar to me, so I casually checked on ancestry.com and MyHeritage, to no avail. Not expecting to find anything through a Google search, I nonetheless checked Isaac’s name there. Imagine my surprise, then, when I was “kicked” into a query that had been posted by Michael Bruck in 2012 on Genealogy.com inquiring about him. (Figure 8)
As followers can read, Michael asked the genealogical community for information on Isaac Bruck and his wife Caroline Stolz from Ratibor; he went on to say that their daughter Marie Friederike Bruck married David Isaac there on the 29th of June 1857, and that Friederike was Michael’s great-great-grandmother. Upon seeing Michael’s message, it immediately became clear how we’re likely related. While I qualify the previous statement, there is absolutely no question in my mind how Michael, Ronny, and I are related. We are fourth cousins once removed. Let me briefly review the evidence, again by reference to primary source documents as in the previous post.
To remind readers what I said in Post 73, in the Ratibor Gymnasium Album, the names “Isaac Bruck and Samuel Bruck” occur in succession and are “bracketed” together with their unnamed father’s profession identically described as “Arrendator,” leaseholder. (Figures 6a-b) From a condensed family tree developed by my uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck reproduced here (Figure 9), I know that Samuel’s father was Jacob Nathan Bruck and that by association, so too is Isaac’s father. To me, the names in association with one another and their father’s profession being the same is “the smoking gun,” the answer to the question Michael and Ronny once posed.
The marriage register listing of Michael’s great-great-grandmother Marie Friederike Bruck to David Isaak dated the 19th of June 1857 survives and can be found on LDS Microfilm Roll 1184449. (Figure 10)
Below is a transcription and a translation of the marriage register listing for Isaac(k) Bruck’s daughter and her husband.
Register No.
Datum
1857
Vor & Zuname
Bräutigam
Gewerbe
Wohnhaft
Name der Braut
& ihrer Eltern
Gewerbe
Wohnhaft
(Register Number)
(Date
1857)
(First & last name of the groom)
(Occupation,
Residence)
(Name of the bride)
(& her parents’ occupation & residence)
GERMAN
113
29.6
David ISAAK, 32 Jahre, Sohn d[es] zu Wrirtzen verstorb[enen] Handelsmanns Hirsch ISAAK & der dort lebenden Ehefrau Cheinchen geb. CASPER
Handlungskommis, Berlin
Marie Friederike BRUCK, Ratibor, 24 Jahre
zu Altendorf verstorb[ener] Sattlermeister / p. Kaufm[ann] Isaak BRUCK & Ehefrau Caroline geb. STOLZ, Ratibor
ENGLISH
113
29 June
David ISAAK, 32 years old, son of the merchant Hirsch ISAAK, who died in Wrietzen, and his wife Cheinchen née CASPER, who lives there
Clerk, assistant or commercial employee, Berlin
Marie Friederike BRUCK, Ratibor, 24 years old
Died in Altendorf, master saddler / p. businessman Isaak BRUCK & wife Caroline née STOLZ, Ratibor
As readers can see, in the far-right column, Marie Friederike’s parents are identified, Isaak (spelled with a “k”) Bruck and Caroline Stolz, with a notation that Isaak died in Altendorf, a suburb of Ratibor (Figure 11), obviously before his daughter got married in 1857.
The town where the groom comes from is incorrectly spelled “Wrietzen,” when it should have read “Wriezen.” It’s a town in the district Märkisch-Oderland, in Brandenburg, Germany.
One final point. Some may wonder, as I did, why Michael and Ronny’s surnames are Bruck when this originates in their matrilineal line. (Figure 12) Michael explained that some of David and Marie Friederike Isaac’s children were in the clothing business in Berlin and owned several shops there in the late 19th and early 20th centuries; on account of persistent anti-Semitism, they started to use their mother’s maiden name. One of David and Marie Friederike’s sons, Max Isaac and his wife, formally applied to the Berlin authorities to use the Bruck name permanently on the 3rd of November 1919, evidence of which survives. (Figure 13)
It’s satisfying to have figured out how Michael, Ronny, and I are related, albeit in the scheme of things, it’s not seemingly a near ancestral link. That said, I maintain close ties with Michael and Ronny, and we regularly communicate. Furthermore, Ronny, by dint of his familiarity with Sütterlin, the German saw-toothed script briefly taught in schools there, has translated numerous family documents penned in this writing. This has enormously furthered my family research.
“I should like someone to remember that there once lived a person named David Berger.” (David Berger in his last letter, Vilna 1941, quoted from www.yadvashem.org brochure)
NOTE: This post examines the fate of some of the Jewish residents and guests who stayed at the Villa Primavera in Fiesole, Italy, between roughly March 1937 and September 1938, the period during which my aunt Susanne Müller née Bruck co-managed the property as a bed-and-breakfast with a Jewish emigrant formerly from Austria and Germany, Ms. Lucia von Jacobi. Investigating what became of the guests who stayed at the Villa Primavera during this time wound up upending my preconceived notion that the boarders were all Jewish emigrés permanently fleeing Germany.
Surviving historic records archived at the “Archivio Storico Comunale,” the “Municipal Historic Archive,” in Fiesole, place my aunt Susanne and my uncle Dr. Franz Müller’s arrival there in about March 1936, and their departure in mid-September 1938. Beginning approximately a year after their arrival, that’s to say, in March 1937, and continuing until they left for France in mid-September 1938, registration logs from the Villa Primavera record numerous guests. I was surprised at the large number of visitors who stayed there, mostly Jewish, and just assumed my aunt and uncle hosted them as they tried to escape Europe and Nazi persecution. While I eventually came across a reference indicating my aunt and Ms. Jacobi had run the Villa Primavera as a bed-and-breakfast, explaining the multiple boarders, this did not initially alter my view that the Jewish guests had already permanently fled Germany, Austria, Belgium, and Switzerland, never to return.
To remind readers, during Italy’s Fascist era, all out-of-town visitors to Fiesole and elsewhere were required to appear with their hosts at the Municipio, or City Hall, provide their names and those of their parents, declare their occupation, state when and where they were born, show their identity papers, give their passport numbers, divulge their anticipated length of stay, and complete what was called a “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia,” or “Stay of Foreigners in Italy.”(Figure 1) As readers will rightly conclude, collecting this information represented a vast invasion of privacy, although forensic genealogists can glean an enormous amount of useful ancestral data. While virtually all the Soggiorno forms state the reason for the guest’s visit as “turismo,” tourism, I concluded this was a “cover” for their real purpose, planning their escape to America or elsewhere. There can be little doubt in examining the Soggiorno forms that most guests were educated and accomplished people of means, likely with good personal and professional contacts elsewhere in the world who could sponsor them and help them obtain travel visas. That said, this did not ensure that Jews were able to obtain such outside help or even intended to leave Europe.
With the Soggiorno forms and Fiesole registration ledgers in hand, using ancestry.com, the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum and Yad Vashem Holocaust victims’ databases, as well as general Internet queries, I set out to try and determine the fate of as many of the guests of the Villa Primavera as possible. With respect to my own family, I already knew what had happened to them, in particular that my beloved aunt Susanne (Figure 2) and my great-aunt Franziska Bruck (Figure 3) had both died in the Holocaust; similarly, I already knew that one of my first cousins twice-removed, Auguste “Gusti” Schueck (Figure 4), had died in the Theresienstadt Ghetto in Czechoslovakia on May 28, 1943. But, I was very curious whether other individuals who had passed through the Villa Primavera suffered a similar fate or managed to find sanctuary elsewhere. The findings upended my preconceived notion that the guests at the Villa Primavera were on a one-way journey out of Europe at the time they stayed in Fiesole.
Below is a table, alphabetically-arranged, of the Jewish residents and boarders who stayed at the Villa Primavera between March 1937 and September 1938, with comments as to their destiny, where discovered. Below the table, I highlight a few individuals, discussing some interesting things I’ve learned about them, including pictures, where found.
NAME (NATIONALITY)
DATE & PLACE OF BIRTH
DATE & PLACE OF DEATH
COMMENT
Argudinsky née Fleischer, Elisabetta (UNKNOWN)
11/24/1873 Reichenbach, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Bachrach née Bachmann, Elvire (SWISS)
9/15/1872 Karstein
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Baerwald née Lewino, Charlotte Victoria (GERMAN)
8/6/1870 Mainz, Germany
3/16/1966 St. Gallen, Switzerland
Destiny: Immigrated to America, died in Switzerland (Figure 5)
Berend, Eduard (GERMAN)
12/5/1883 Hannover, Germany
1973 Marbach, Germany
Destiny: Left Germany in 1939, returned after WWII
Bergmann née Neufeld, Amalie (GERMAN)
4/16/1881 Posen, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Brieger née Elias, Else (GERMAN)
2/19/1888 Posen, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Bruck née Berliner, Else (GERMAN)(Figure 6)
3/3/1873 Ratibor, Germany
2/16/1957 New York, NY
Destiny: Immigrated to America
Bruck, Eva (GERMAN) (Figure 7)
8/19/1906 Barcelona, Spain
8/15/1977 Ainring, Germany
Destiny: Immigrated to Spain, died in Germany (Figure 8)
Bruck, Franziska (GERMAN)
12/29/1866 Ratibor, Germany
1/2/1942 Berlin, Germany
Destiny: Suicide victim of the Holocaust
Bruck, Otto (GERMAN) (Figure 42)
4/16/1907 Ratibor, Germany
9/13/1994 New York, NY
Destiny: Immigrated to America
Cohnnée Pollack, Caroline (GERMAN)
Unknown
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Cypres, Jacques (BELGIAN)
10/29/1904 Antwerp, Belgium
Unknown
Destiny: Immigrated to America (Figure 9)
Donath, Ludwig (GERMAN)
3/6/1900 Vienna, Austria
9/29/1967 New York, NY
Destiny: Immigrated to America
Donath née Camsky, Maria Josefa (GERMAN)
8/20/1902 Vienna, Austria
4/21/1975 Vienna, Austria
Destiny: Immigrated to America, returned to Austria after her husband’s death
Elias, Dr. Carl Ludwig (GERMAN)
9/19/1891 Berlin, Germany
1942 Auschwitz, Poland
Destiny: Murdered in Auschwitz
Fleischner née Schoenfeld, Gabriele Ann Sophie (AUSTRIAN)(Figures 10a &b)
10/12/1895 Vienna, Austria
9/22/58 Massachusetts
Destiny: Immigrated to America, died Gabriele Anna Fleischner-Lawrence
Fleischner, Dr. Konrad George (AUSTRIAN)(Figures 11a& b)
10/12/1891 Vienna, Austria
9/1963 Massachusetts
Destiny: Immigrated to America, died Conrad Lawrence
Goldenring, Eva (GERMAN)
10/29/1906 Berlin, Germany
12/1969 Wilmington, DE
Destiny: Left Germany for France & Spain; eventually immigrated to America
Goldenring, Fritz (GERMAN)
9/11/1902
12/15/1943 Shanghai, China
Destiny: Left for Shanghai where he died in the Shanghai Ghetto
Goldenring née Hirsch, Helene (GERMAN)
3/25/1880 Ratibor, Germany
1/12/1968 Newark, NJ
Destiny: Left for Chile & eventually immigrated to America
Grödel, Emilie (GERMAN)
Unknown
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Hayoth HAYDT, Dr. Eugen (GERMAN)
4/19/1906
Metz, France
Unknown
1/17/1973
Sydney, Australia
Destiny: Unknown
Arrived in Sydney, Australia on 2/6/1939 aboard the ship “NIEUW HOLLAND”;
Died as Alvin Eugene Werner Haydt or A.E.W Haydt
Hayoth HAYDT née Winternitz, Lilly (GERMAN)
8/12/1908
Vienna, Austria
Unknown
2/4/1997
Sydney
Destiny: Unknown
Arrived in Sydney, Australia on 2/6/1939 aboard the ship “NIEUW HOLLAND”
Heilbronner, Dr. Paul Milton (GERMAN) (Figures 12 & b)
11/22/1904 Munich, Germany
4/6/1980 Santa Barbara, CA
Destiny: Immigrated to America, died as Paul Milton Laporte
Heilbronnernée Wimpfheimer, Sofie (GERMAN) (Figures 13a & b)
3/18/1876 Augsburg, Germany
3/26/1965 Los Angeles, CA
Destiny: Immigrated to America, died as Sofie Broner
Herz, Dr. Phil. Emanuel Emil (GERMAN)
4/5/1877 Essen, Germany
7/8/1971 Rochester, NY
Destiny: Immigrated to America (Figure 14)
Herz née Berl, Gabriele (GERMAN)
4/26/1886 Vienna, Austria
1957 Rochester, NY
Destiny: Immigrated to America
Hirschfeldt née Wolff, Katharina (GERMAN)
4/16/1866 Berlin, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Jacobi née Goldberg, Lucia von (GERMAN)
9/8/1887 Vienna, Austria
4/24/1956 Locarno, Switzerland
Destiny: Fled to Switzerland where she died after WWII
Kleinmann née Lewensohn, Gretchen (GERMAN)
12/31/1894 Hamburg, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Kleinmann, Dr. Phil & Med. Hans (GERMAN)
9/28/1895 Berlin, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Kleinmann née Luvic, Sophie (GERMAN)
11/27/1863 Memel, East Prussia
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Kuhnemund née Goldschmidt, Helene Ida (GERMAN)
3/15/1901 Berlin, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Leven née Levÿ, Johanna (GERMAN)
6/25/1866 Koenigshoeven, Germany
7/2/1942 Theresienstadt Ghetto, Czechoslovakia
Destiny: Murdered in Theresienstadt Ghetto
Leyser née Schueck, Auguste (GERMAN)
1/26/1872 Ratibor, Germany
10/5/1943 Theresienstadt Ghetto, Czechoslovakia
Destiny: Murdered in Theresienstadt Ghetto
Locker, Dine Martha (POLISH)
Unknown
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Maass, Margarete (GERMAN)
2/16/1880 Friedberg, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Unknown
Matthias, Julius (GERMAN)
5/15/1857 Hamburg, Germany
5/16/1942 Hamburg, Germany
Destiny: Died in Germany during WWII
Müller, Dr. Franz (GERMAN) (Figure 15)
12/31/1871 Berlin, Germany
10/1/1945 Fayence, France
Destiny: Left for Italy & France, where he died
Müller née Bruck, Susanne (GERMAN) (Figure 42)
4/20/1904 Ratibor, Germany
~9/7/1942 Auschwitz, Poland
Destiny: Murdered in Auschwitz
Nienburg née Niess, Emmy (GERMAN)
8/16/1885 Berlin, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Appears to have died in Germany after WWII
Oppler née Pinoff, Gertrude (GERMAN)
1/13/1876 Görlitz, Germany
3/9/1952 Frankfurt, Germany
Destiny: Died in Germany after WWII; (granddaughter of Marcus Braun, subject of Post 14)
Rosendorff, Friederike Elfriede (GERMAN)
11/28/1872 Berlin, Germany
Unknown
Destiny: Appears to have died in Germany after WWII
In the case of several people associated with the Villa Primavera, including my aunt and uncle (Figure 17), Lucia von Jacobi (Figure 18), and Charlotte Baerwald, their intent had been to stay in Fiesole “per sempre,” forever. In the case of most guests, however, their anticipated length of stay typically varied between a few weeks and two months.
Eduard Berend
Eduard Berend (Figure 19) was an eminent editor of the works of Jean Paul (1763-1825), a German Romantic writer. After fighting in WWI, Berend pursued an academic career, but on account of anti-Semitism, he was rejected as a teacher at three German universities. In 1927, the Preußische Akademie der Wissenschaften, the Prussian Academy of Sciences, eventually commissioned him with the historic-critical edition of the works of Jean Paul. By 1938, he had completed 20 of the 32 planned volumes, works that established Jean Paul as one of the most important writers of German classicism, alongside Goethe and Schiller. Still, he was dismissed by the Prussian Academy in 1938. Soon thereafter he was sent to the concentration camp of Sachsenhausen, and was only released on the condition that he leave Germany immediately.
Prior to WWII, Eduard Berend had developed an unlikely friendship with a Heinrich Meyer, a Goethe scholar at the Rice Institute in Houston with Nazi sympathies. Desperate, Berend turned to Meyer for help in December 1938. In spite of Henrich Meyer’s Nazi leanings, which landed him in prison in Texas in 1943 and ultimately got him fired, Meyer secured an affidavit for Berend to leave Germany for Switzerland where he even supported Berend financially. After the war, Berend continued his work on Jean Paul. He went back to Germany in 1957, and by the time of his death in 1973, had completed twenty-eight volumes.
The passport on which Eduard Berend traveled to Switzerland in 1939 was different than the one on which he traveled to Fiesole in May 1937, comparing the number on the Soggiorno form (Figure 20) with that on his 1939 passport, found on the Internet. (Figure 21)
Franziska Bruck
I was able to procure a copy of my great-aunt Franziska Bruck’s death certificate from the Landesarchiv Berlin. (Figure 22) The certificate states the gruesome way in which she killed herself on January 2, 1942, “selbstmord durch erhängen,” suicide by hanging, no doubt after being told to report to an old-age transport for deportation. (Figure 23)
In previous posts, I’ve explained to readers that beginning in 1937-38, all German Jewish men had to be called “Israel,” and all German Jewish women had to be called “Sarah”; these names were added to official birth, marriage and death certificates. Readers will note that on my great-aunt’s death certificate, the name “Sara” has been added.
My great-aunt Franziska spent two months at the Villa Primavera between September and November 1937. I’ve often wondered what her fate might have been had she not returned to Berlin. I can only surmise that like many Jews, she was either in denial as to what might happen upon her return, or her options for leaving Germany were limited.
Ludwig & Maria Donath
Ludwig Donath (Figures 24a & b) and his wife, Maria Donath née Camsky (Figures 25a & b), were among the last German Jewish guests at the Villa Primavera, staying for no more than a month in July-August 1938. Ludwig Donath was a famous character actor (Figures 26 & 27) who’d had a distinguished career on the stages of Vienna and Berlin, before leaving Nazi Germany in 1933. He and his wife arrived in Hollywood via Switzerland and England, departing from Liverpool for New York in February 1940. Donath appeared in many American films, with at least 84 credits to his name, and was often typecast as a Nazi in films from 1942. (Figure 28) He was briefly blacklisted in the 1950’s for alleged left-wing connections, but resumed steady television work in 1957 for the remainder of his life.
Carl Ludwig Elias
Carl Ludwig Elias was born in 1891 to a distinguished art critic, Dr. Julius Elias, who was instrumental in promoting French Impressionism in Germany. Likely because of his father’s connections with the art world, an oil portrait of “Carl Ludwig Elias 7 ¼” by Lovis Corinth was painted in 1899. (Figure 29) Carl Ludwig was a lawyer in Berlin and immigrated to Norway when the Nazis came to power. Nonetheless, after the Nazis invaded Norway in December 1940, he was captured and deported with 500 other Jews from Denmark to Auschwitz in 1942, where he was murdered.
Helene Goldenring
Helene Goldenring visited the Villa Primavera on two occasions, for about a month between May-June 1937, and, again, between December 1937 and January 1938 for two months. Both of her children, Eva and Fritz Goldenring, who’ve been discussed in earlier posts, were also guests on separate occasions. Helene’s name appears in a Berlin phone directory as late as 1940 (Figure 30), indicating she returned to Germany after her sojourns in Fiesole. At some point, she seems to have joined her brother, Dr. Robert Hirsch, in Chile, before eventually immigrating to America in 1947 after his death, where she reunited with her only surviving child, Eva. (Figure 31)
Eugen & Lillian Haydt
In May 2021, I was contacted by Ms. Tamara Precek, a most delightful Czech lady who has resided in Barcelona, Spain for the past 20 years. She is researching the Winternitz families that lived in Prague around 1850, of whom Lillian Haydt née Winternitz is descended. Tamara asked me to send her the “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia” forms for Eugen (Figure 43) and Lillian (Figure 44), suspecting I had misread their surnames. Indeed, I had mistaken HAYDT as “Hayoth.”
Tamara has recently been able to learn what happened to them after their brief stay at the Villa Primavera. They managed to immigrate to Australia, arriving there on the 6th of February 1939 aboard the ship “NIEUW HOLLAND.” Dr. Eugen Haydt changed his named to Albin (Alvin) Eugene Werner (Warner) Haydt (A.E.W. Haydt) but was still generally known as Eugene Haydt. He was a tradesman, and died on the 17th of January 1973; his wife may have worked with him, and passed away on the 4th of February 1997. They appear not to have had any children.
Ms. Precek even found a picture of the apartment building where they resided in Sydney. (Figure 45)
Lucia von Jacobi
Ms. Jacobi co-managed the Villa Primavera as a bed-and-breakfast with my aunt Susanne. She fled Fiesole in 1938 in favor of Switzerland, leaving everything behind, including her personal papers, which were miraculously found in Florence and saved by a German researcher in 1964, Dr. Irene Below (see Blog Post 21 for the full story).
Johanna Leven
Johanna Leven stayed at the Villa Primavera for the first two months of 1938, but clearly returned to Germany after her stay. She was eventually deported from Mönchengladbach, Germany to the Theresienstadt Ghetto in then-Czechoslovakia, where she perished in 1942. (Figure 32)
Julius Matthias
Julius Matthias was among the oldest guest to have stayed at the Villa Primavera, being almost 80 when he visted there between March and April 1937. After his days in Fiesole, he returned to Hamburg, Germany, where he died on May 16, 1942, seemingly of natural causes (i.e., senility, broncho-pneumonia). His death certificate (Figure 33) states he was a non-practicing Jew, although this fact would not have prevented him from being deported to a concentration camp. His death certificate assigned him the name “Israel” to identify him as a Jew.
Paul Schoop
Paul Schoop was born in 1907 in Zurich, Switzerland, one of four accomplished offspring (with Max Schoop (b. 1902); Trudi Schoop (b. 1903); Hedwig “Hedi” Schoop (b. 1906)) of a prominent family. Paul’s father, Maximilian Schoop, was the editor of Neue Zurcher Zeitung and president of Dolder Hotels. Paul (Figure 34) came to America in September 1939, and eventually joined his three siblings in Van Nuys, California. He was an accomplished composer, concert pianist and conductor, first in Europe and later in America. Paul’s brother-in-law was Frederick Maurice Holländer (Figures 35a & b), the famed composer and torch song writer, who’d once been married to one of Paul’s sister, Hedi Schoop. (Figures 36a & b)
I surmise the reason the Schoop children came to America is because of greater economic and professional opportunities rather than on account of Nazi persecution.
Jenny Steinfeld
Jenny Steinfeld’s tale is a poignant one. Her name appears with that of her son, Paul Steinfeld, on an April 1937 manifest of boat passengers bound from Bremen, Germany to New York. (Figure 37) A scant five months later, between September and November 1937, she is a guest at the Villa Primavera, clearly having come back from America. Jenny eventually returns to Berlin, and on August 27, 1942 commits suicide there, yet another victim of Nazi persecution. (Figure 38) As with my great-aunt Franziska, who too returned to Berlin from Fiesole, one wonders why Jenny walked back into the maws of death.
This post deals only in passing with my immediate and extended Bruck family. For this reason, it involved considerably more forensic research, as most of the guests at the Villa Primavera were previously unknown to me. Still, learning more about these people was important to me. In some small way, as the Holocaust victim David Berger wrote in 1941, I hope I have honored and recognized a few other Jewish victims of Nazi persecution so they are not forgotten.
SIDEBAR
Regular readers will know the enjoyment I derive making connections between people and events related to my family. One of my German first cousins, once-removed, Kay Lutze, is friends with an Anja Holländer, living in Amsterdam, Netherlands. (Figure 39) Anja is related to Frederick Maurice Holländer, the brother-in-law of Paul Schoop, who stayed at the Villa Primavera. In assembling this involved Blog post, I recollected this fact and also that Anja claims a relationship to my Bruck family. I asked Kay whether he knew the relationship, and he could only tell me that the mother of a Holländer named LUDWIG HEINRICH HOLLÄNDER was a Bruck. Curious about this, I researched this man on ancestry.com, and, indeed, discovered various historic documents that confirm the distant relationship of the Holländer family to my Bruck family. Ludwig’s mother was HELENE HOLLÄNDER née BRUCK (1812-1876), who I think is my great-great-great-great-aunt; Helene was married to a BENJAMIN HOLLÄNDER (1809-1884). I discovered his death certificate (Figures 40a & b), along with that of their son Ludwig (1833-1897). (Figures 41a & b)
As we speak, I am trying to learn how Anja is related to Friedrick and Helene Holländer née Bruck. Watch this space!
In the previous post, I described to readers how I went about finding my grandfather’s younger brother, Wilhelm “Willy” Bruck (1872-1952), as well as his wife, son and daughter-in-law. Starting with the knowledge that my great-uncle wound up in Barcelona, Spain and sent a congratulatory card from there to my parents in 1951, shortly after I was born, I began there. From the FamilySearch’s “International Genealogical Index” I knew my great-uncle Willy’s wife, Antonie Bruck née Marcus, had pre-deceased him by ten years in Barcelona, dying there in 1942; clearly, 1942 was the latest they would have arrived in Spain, and likely sooner. I assumed my great-aunt and -uncle had gone to Barcelona to escape the Nazis, although the circumstances of how they were able to immigrate to Spain was a complete mystery.
In Post 32, I explained how I obtained the Certificados de Defunción, death certificates, for my great-uncle Willy (Figure 1), and his son Edgar-Pedro (Figure 2) during a visit in 2014 to two bureaus in Barcelona, the Cementiris de Barcelona, S.A. and the Registro Civil de Barcelona; other than learning that payments for keeping them and their wives interred were current, the Cementiris refused to give me names of next of kin. Instead, they suggested I write a letter explaining my interest in contacting them, and they would forward my request asking if the next of kin were willing to share their contact information. In fact, I tried this approach upon my return to the States in 2014, ultimately to no avail, although I strongly suspect the Cementiris never contacted my relatives.
But, I’m getting ahead of myself. As previously explained, following my visit to the Cementerio de Montjuïc in Barcelona to visit the tomb of my great-uncle Willy and his family (Figure 3), I returned to the Registro Civil de Barcelona hoping to obtain documents for additional family members. I had the good fortune to encounter a very helpful English-speaking lady there who spent several hours researching records for possible relatives. She eventually gave me copies of various birth, marriage and death certificates for five individuals, the relationship and significance of which would take me several months to figure out. I didn’t realize it at the time, but one of these documents was the key to locating my great-uncle Willy’s grandchildren. Just to be clear, none of these certificates provided names of next of kin.
Readers may recall from Post 15 that the personal papers of two of great-uncle Willy’s renowned sisters, Franziska Bruck and Elsbeth Bruck, are archived at the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, a suburb of Berlin. Earlier in 2014, my wife and I spent two days there examining and photographing all the documents and pictures. (Figure 4) Among my great-aunt Elsbeth’s papers, I discovered multiple pictures that her brother Willy had sent from Barcelona of himself (Figure 5), his children, Eva (Figure 6) and Edgar Pedro, his daughter-in-law Mercedes and her family (Figure 7), and his grandson Antonio. (Figure 8) The captions on these pictures allowed me to partially piece together the family tree. I was able to match some pictures to a document I’d obtained at the Registro Civil de Barcelona, notably the Certificado de Matrimonio, marriage certificate, for Edgar Pedro Bruck Marcus and Mercedes Casanovas Castañé, married June 24, 1945. (Figures 9a-c & 10) I was also able to relate theCertificados de Nacimiento, birth certificates, to their two children, Antonio Bruck Casanovas, born 1946 (Figure 11), and Margarita Bruck Casanovas, born 1948. (Figure 12) To remind readers, in Spain, at birth, an individual is given two surnames, that of his mother and father. Again, none of these documents allowed me to determine whether great-uncle Willy’s grandchildren were still alive, or where they might be living.
The break-through in finding my great-uncle Willy’s grandchildren came during Thanksgiving 2014. My wife was out-of-town with her family, so I set myself the task of re-examining the documents I’d been given at the Registro Civil de Barcelona. When reviewing the birth certificate for Antonio Bruck Casanovas, I noticed something I’d previously overlooked, specifically, a notation that had been added in the upper-left-hand corner on October 26, 1983 indicating he’d gotten married to a woman named Ingeborg Prieller née Wieser in 1982 in a place called “Haag-R.F.A.” (Figure 13) Having no idea where Haag is, and what “R.F.A.” stood for, after researching these places, I quickly determined that Haag is in Bavaria, and that “R.F.A.,” is Spanish for “República Federal de Alemania,” the German Federal Republic. This was the first concrete evidence I had that one of my great-uncle Willy’s grandchildren had at least for some period lived in Germany and might still be there.
I made this discovery on a Sunday, I clearly remember. I immediately searched to find out whether this small town of approximately 6,500 inhabitants has a Rathaus, a town hall, where I could inquire about Antonio Bruck. I learned they do, and without delay sent them an email inquiring about my second cousin, laying out what I knew. Incredibly, by the following morning, the Rathaus confirmed the information I had uncovered on Antonio Bruck’s birth certificate was correct and that he still lived in Haag; this was the good news, the bad news was they couldn’t give me his contact information. Fortunately, the gentleman at the Rathaus offered to call Antonio and explain that a cousin from America was trying to reach him. By Tuesday, my second cousin Antonio had sent me an email explaining his consternation at being phoned by Haag’s Rathaus, asked to appear in person at their offices, and told I was trying to get in touch with him. Antonio wasted no time contacting me. So, only two days after figuring out that one of my second cousins was living in Germany, we’d miraculously established contact.
Let me briefly digress and touch on something that may be of passing interest to some readers. Given my persistence, it’s likely I would eventually have figured out another way to get in touch with my second cousins, although there’s no guarantee of this. The 1983 marriage notation on Antonio’s 1946 birth certificate simplified my search. What makes this notation on Antonio’s Spanish birth certificate notable is that he was married in Germany, but this information was somehow conveyed to the Spanish authorities in Barcelona. In my years of doing forensic genealogy, I’ve come across multiple examples where marriages and even divorces are noted on German birth certificates, but this is the only instance I’ve come across where such a notation crosses country borders, this in the time before the European Union. For people doing research on their ancestors, it pays to look for notations on vital documents, particularly on German birth certificates, that may inform when and where their relatives got married. While Antonio’s birth certificate includes this information, the birth certificate of his sister Margarita, also married in Germany, contains no such reference.
Once Antonio and I connected, we began a lively exchange of emails. (Figure 14) I learned a lot more about my great-uncle Willy and his family and widened my circle of previously unknown relatives who I eventually contacted. From the International Genealogical Index, I already knew that my great-aunt and -uncle had married in Hamburg on April 2, 1904 (Figure 15). Once Antonio confirmed that Wilhelm and Antonie’s children, Edgar and Eva, had been born respectively, in 1905 and 1906, in Barcelona, I wrote to the woman who’d helped me at the Registro Civil de Barcelona, asking for copies of their birth certificates. She remembered me, and in February 2015, sent me their Certificados de Nacimiento. (Figures 16a-b & 17a-b)
It turns out, Antonio’s grandfather had been an electrical engineer for AEG, Allgemeine Elektricitäts-Gesellschaft, a company established in Berlin 1893 that went defunct in 1996. Among other things, AEG was involved in the installation and generation of electrical power and transmission lines, and, as technical director at AEG, my great-uncle was sent to Barcelona in 1905 to supervise the set-up of electrification and street illumination in Barcelona. (Figure 18) As noted, Wilhelm and Antonie’s two children were born in Barcelona, where the family stayed until 1910 (Figures 19 & 20), whereupon they returned to Berlin.
The family’s association with Spain no doubt saved their lives during the rise of the National Socialists. It appears after Hitler’s ascendancy to power in 1933, the family returned to Barcelona at least until the start of the Spanish Civil War in 1936, although the family’s chronology during this period is at best confusing. It seems that Wilhelm and Antonie returned to Germany for a short period, because in 1937 they were given the choice by the Nazis of attending a re-education school to learn to become “better” Germans or leaving the country; they decided to relocate to Antwerp, Belgium.
At the outset of the Spanish Civil War, Edgar left for Geneva, Switzerland, but, unable to find work there, went to Paris soon after. Between 1937 and 1941 he was in France, living in Paris and Bordeaux, before eventually being incarcerated at the French detention center of Condom. Since France and Germany were at war, and Edgar was a German national, he was arrested. Seemingly, it was only the persistent efforts of Wilhelm that got Edgar released, whereupon he rejoined his family in Barcelona in 1941. It’s likely that once the Spanish Civil War ended on April 1, 1939, Wilhelm and Antonie returned to Barcelona from Antwerp.
Let me briefly digress again and draw the readers attention to a very common notation added to the birth and/or marriage certificates of German Jews during the Nazi period. (Figure 21) As previously mentioned, my great-uncle Willy and his wife Antonie Marcus were married in Hamburg, Germany on April 2, 1904. Below is the translation of their marriage certificate:
N.172
Hamburg, the 2nd of April 1904
In front of the below signed registrar appeared today because of their marriage:
1.) the chief engineer Wilhelm Bruck, known because of his birth certificate, lutheran religion, born on the 24th of October 1872 in Ratibor, living in Barcelona, son of the in Ratibor deceased innkeeper Fedor Bruck and his wife Friederike born Mokrauer, living in Berlin.
2.) Antonie Marcus, known because of her birth certificate, lutheran religion, born on the 13th of July 1876 in Altona, living in Hamburg, Heimhuderstreet 60/2, daughter of the in Altona deceased merchant Hirsch (called Harry) Marcus and his wife Adele born Hertz, living in Hamburg.
And on the right-hand side is written:
Nr.172
Hamburg, the 11th of march 1940
Antonia Bruck born Marcus, living in Barcelona Calle Balmes, has received the additional Christian name “Sara”.
Nr. 172
Hamburg, the 29th of April 1940
Wilhelm Bruck, living in Barcelona, has received the additional Christian name “Israel”.
In the next two additions on the right-hand side is written that those two additional names “Sara” and “Israel” are no longer valid
from the date of 22nd of July 1948
The certificate states that Wilhelm and Antonie were Lutherans though both were considered Jewish by the Nazis. As such, in March and April 1940, respectively, the Nazis gave them the additional names of “Sara” and “Israel,” identical names given to all female and male Jews during this period, names rescinded in writing after WWII. The Nazis even recorded the street in Barcelona on which my great-aunt and -uncle lived, Calle Balmes, presumably useful information had they ever invaded Spain. As an aside, according to my second cousins, because they were Lutherans, a major branch of Protestant Christianity, neither was able to attend “normal” schools in predominantly Catholic Spain so, instead, they were schooled at the “Lycée Français.” For this reason, in 1955 Edgar and his family returned to Germany so his children could attend regular public schools
Antonio put me in touch with additional relatives living in Munich and Berlin. One woman was a Dr. Anna Rothholz, a third cousin I eventually learned. (Figure 22) Anna, in turn, referred me to other third cousins, including the Pauly family. This was of particular interest, as a woman named Lisa Pauly helped my uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck survive in Berlin during WWII. One deceased Pauly cousin developed a very detailed “Stammbaum,” family tree, which I was given, but unfortunately this still does not explain how Lisa Pauly is related to the Bruck family.
I’ve mentioned in previous posts my father’s penchant for being dismissive of family. Not only did he lose touch with most, but he lost track of how they passed away. Case in point, I was always told Wilhelm’s daughter, Eva, whom I met in 1967 in New York, had committed suicide. In fact, she died of laryngeal cancer in 1977 in Ainring, Germany. (Figure 23) There is an interesting anecdote related to her death. She had wanted to be interred with her family at the Cementerio de Montjuïc in Barcelona, but an administrative hang-up prevented this. The Spanish kept telling the family the Germans should just ship the body to Spain, but the Germans refused to do this without something in writing, something the Spaniards never provided. Thus, Eva was buried in Germany against her wishes.
My wife and I eventually met my second and third cousins on a trip to Germany in May 2015. (Figure 24) Margarita, Antonio and I all brought family pictures, including of people we were unable to identify, but, between us, we eventually figured out who most were; they would later scan and send all the family pictures they inherited from their father and aunt. One particularly interesting identification was of Wilhelm’s wife, Antonie, who entirely unbeknownst to me, had worked in my great-aunt Franziska Bruck’s flower school in Berlin. (Figure 25) Stories of other people shown in the family pictures will be the subject of future posts, as they led me to other discoveries.
Note: This post describes how I tracked down my deceased great-uncle Wilhelm “Willy” Bruck, my grandfather Felix Bruck’s younger brother.
In 1951, some months after I was born in New York, my parents received a congratulatory card from my father’s uncle, Wilhelm “Willy” Bruck, my grandfather Felix Bruck’s surviving younger brother. (Figures 1a, 1b & 1c) Regrettably, this card, mailed from Barcelona, Spain, has not survived. At the time I began looking into my family, I knew very little about this great-uncle; it turns out his only daughter, Eva Bruck, visited New York in 1967 (Figure 2), although her connection to our family was never explained to me at the time. Still, I remember her clearly. Having been a coin collector my entire life, Eva immediately endeared herself by bringing me an Austrian 15 Kreuzer silver coin from 1686, an item still in my possession.
Eva had a very distinctive look so when I carefully re-examined my father’s pictures from Ratibor and Berlin when he and Eva were younger, she was easily recognizable. I was also able to identify her brother, Edgar Bruck, in these same images. (Figure 3)
As previously mentioned, my father took scant interest in his family and often quipped, “thank heavens we don’t have family!” When he spoke of his relatives or friends, he often used a French or German sobriquet, such as “la Socialiste,” “la Vielle,” or “Die Schlummermutter,” never mentioning surnames for these people. Given my father’s rather casual attitude about family, it’s not surprising he lost touch with them, and why I never met or knew how many aunts and uncles he had. For that matter, I was never even told how many siblings my father had, as readers may recall from my visit to the Polish State Archives in Raciborz (Post 12), where I learned of an older brother named Walter who died in infancy.
From the Ratibor microfilm records and the Polish State Archives in Raciborz, I discovered my grandfather had seven siblings and learned their dates of birth; since I track only five of the siblings into adulthood, it’s likely two died in infancy. Finding out what became of the surviving brothers and sisters during the Nazi era and uncovering whether any had children or grandchildren became a priority when I started the forensic investigations into my father’s family.
I started with my great-uncle Willy, Wilhelm Bruck. The Ratibor birth records showed he was born on October 24, 1872, while a page in FamilySearch’s “International Genealogical Index (IGI),” indicated he died on May 18, 1952, in Barcelona, and was married to an Antonie Marcus on April 2, 1904 in Hamburg, Germany; Antonie was born on July 13, 1876 in Hamburg, Germany and died in Barcelona (as Antonia) on October 10, 1942. When I began my search into my great-uncle Willy, this is all I knew. (Figures 4 & 5)
Aware of my great-uncle Willy’s connection to Barcelona, I searched the city’s White Pages for people with the surname Bruck hoping to find some of his descendants. I was a bit surprised when none showed up, although when I broadened my search to all of Spain, I found 14 people with the surname Bruck. At that instant, I decided to write to all fourteen individuals, enclosing the only photo I had at the time of my great-uncle Willy. (Figure 6)
I’ve often used this approach, writing “cold letters” to people I think may have information about my father’s family and friends. Typically, I get a response rate of about 50 percent, often absent information, although, in this instance, only two people responded. The first response was predictably negative. The second, however, was different. Early one Saturday morning, I received a call from Haifa, Israel from a gentleman named Michael Bruck; this immediately caught my attention because I was unaware of any Bruck relatives in Israel. It turns out, Michael is the first cousin of someone I’d written to in Spain, a man named Ronny Bruck. Early in January 2014, Ronny received my letter, coincidentally, on his 65th birthday. Thinking an unknown Bruck relative in America was sending him birthday well-wishes, he instead found my odd request asking about my deceased great-uncle Willy. Ronny forwarded my letter to his first cousin Michael in Israel, the family genealogist, ergo the call.
While both Ronny and Michael recognized a family resemblance between my great-uncle Willy and their ancestors, to this day we have not connected our respective branches of the family; whenever we come upon a new family tree, we immediately share it hoping to eventually find a “link.” Regardless, both Ronny and Michael have been of enormous assistance in my family research. Ronny learned Sütterlin for only one year in school, and has translated countless historic birth, marriage and death records written in this obsolete German script; Michael helped me track down one of my father’s first cousins who immigrated to Haifa after WWII, an arduous search that will be the subject of a future post. While we can’t pinpoint our family ties, I consider Michael and Ronny nothing less than intimate kin. (Figure 7)
Having basically reached a dead-end on my great-uncle Willy, I turned to the Los Angeles Jewish Genealogical Society for help contacting someone in Spain’s Jewish community thinking they might be able to assist. They put me in touch with the Synagogue Librarian for La Javurá, Ms. Alba Toscana, in Valencia, Spain (Figure 8), who suggested I contact the Comunidad Israelita de Barcelona or CIB, and they, in turn, sent me to the Cementiris de Barcelona, S.A. I emailed them in February 2014, and, within a day, they responded and confirmed that my great-uncle Willy was indeed buried in Barcelona, at the Cementerio de Montjuïc, with his wife, son and daughter-in-law; they also provided specifics on where all were entombed. The Cementiris, however, was unwilling to provide a copy of any of the death certificates for family members unless I presented myself in person and paid for the documents on the spot.
Fortunately, my wife and I already had plans in summer of 2014 to visit the places connected to my family’s diaspora, including Barcelona, so when we arrived there in July we presented ourselves to the Cementiris. (Figure 9) Payment was made in this office, then we had to trek across town to a separate office, the Ministerio de Justicia Registro Civil de Barcelona (Figure 10), where actual death certificates are obtained. The Cementiris provided a letter telling me when my great-uncle Willi and his wife died, and where they are entombed in theCementerio de Montjuïc. (Figure 11) I also received a separate document stating that payment for keeping the remains interred was current. As readers may know, it is a common practice in Spain and elsewhere in the world for relatives to pay to keep their ancestors buried, otherwise, the human remains are disinterred and placed in a charnel house after a certain number of years. The Cementiris, however, would not provide information on any living family members. Spain is a notoriously difficult place to obtain official documents and names of living and even deceased relatives because of its recent history of fascism; initially I was only able to obtain the death certificates for my great-uncle Willy (Figure 12), known here as Guillermo Bruck Mockrauer, and his son, Edgar-Pedro Bruck Marcus. (Figure 13)
A side note on Spanish names is relevant. In Spain, at birth, an individual is given two surnames, that of his mother and father. Thus, my great-uncle Willy’s father’s surname was Bruck and his mother’s maiden name was Mockrauer, so he was known in Spain as “Guillermo (Spanish for Wilhelm) Bruck Mockrauer.”
Armed with information on where my great-uncle Willy or “Guillermo” was interred, my wife and I set out to pay a visit to the Cementerio de Montjuïc. (Figure 14) I already knew Guillermo and his wife, who predeceased him by 10 years, were buried together, along with their son, Edgar and his wife, Mercedes. Interestingly, neither Willy’s son nor daughter-in-law’s names are inscribed on the headstone; this I had learned from the Cementeris before visiting the cemetery. (Figure 15)
Following our visit to the Cementerio de Montjuïc, I returned to the Registro Civil de Barcelona hoping to obtain official documents for additional family members I surmised had been born or died in Barcelona. I had the good fortune to land upon an English-speaking administrator who was enormously helpful; she asked me to come back after working hours, spent some hours on the computer, and provided me with some invaluable birth and death certificates that eventually enabled me to track down my great-uncle Willy’s grandchildren. It took some effort to decipher the significance of these documents. It was only after I returned home and correlated these documents with letters and pictures found among the personal papers of two of my renowned great-aunts, archived at the Stadtmuseum in Berlin, that I was fully able to connect the dots. This will be the subject of the following Blog post.