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POST 142: “STOLPERSTEINE” COMMEMORATING THREE HOLOCAUST VICTIMS FROM RACIBORZ

FOOTNOTE ADDED ON 10/17/2023

Note: Three “Stolpersteine” or commemorative brass plaques commemorating Holocaust victims were recently installed in Racibórz, Poland, my father’s birth place when it was part of Germany; these are the town’s first-ever “stumbling stones.” In this post, I look briefly into the Kochen family whom these Stolpersteine memorialize and discuss a surprising discovery I made on my journey.

POST 121, POSTSCRIPT: MY FATHER’S ENCOUNTERS WITH HITLER’S MENNONITE SUPPORTERS—FURTHER HISTORICAL OBSERVATIONS

On May 26, 2023, a coaster-sized brass plaque commemorating a victim of Nazi persecution in Nuremberg, Germany became the 100,000^th “Stolperstein” installed. Literally meaning “stumbling stone,” Stolpersteine commemorate all victims of Nazi oppression, including Jews but also Roma, Sinti, the physically or mentally disabled, homosexuals, and other persecuted groups (e.g. Communists, members of the anti-Nazi Resistance, Christian opponents, etc.). So far, they have been placed in 27 European countries. The names and fates of the victims are engraved on the brass plaques, along with information on where and when they were deported.

Initiated in 1992 by the German artist Gunter Demnig (Figure 1), his idea was to place a cobblestone-like memorial outside a Holocaust victim’s “last address of choice.” By placing a Stolperstein on a sidewalk or in the middle of a pavement, Demnig hopes people happening upon them will stop, curious to know whom it commemorates and what happened to them. He is convinced “there’s a difference between a teenager opening a book and reading about 6 million murdered Jews, and them learning about the fate of family while standing where they lived.”

Figure 1. Gunter Demnig, artist who developed the idea of “Stolpersteine” in 1992, holding two commemorative brass plaques

Placement of Stolpersteine in the middle of pavements has not been without its detractors. Interestingly, Munich, the historic home of the Nazi movement, banned the implementation of Stolpersteine until recently. The reason for Munich’s opposition actually stems from a member of the city’s Jewish community, a Charlotte Knobloch, herself a Holocaust survivor. Ms. Knobloch argues that it is disrespectful for people to walk over the names of Holocaust victims, allowing the victims’ lives to figuratively be desecrated.

The Munich City Council recently decided to move ahead with plans to commemorate the last known addresses of Holocaust victims in their city but stopped short of allowing the installation of Stolpersteine. The compromise allows plaques on private property with the owners’ approval and on top of posts on public property. While sidewalk plaques remain against the law, there will be a central memorial with a list of the Holocaust victims’ names.

Elsewhere, for example in some places in Poland, such as Szczecin, city authorities have refused to install memorial stones for Holocaust victims because the country’s “Institute of National Remembrance” fears that visitors to the city might think the perpetrators of the crimes were Poles.

Notwithstanding the concerns some people and jurisdictions have expressed about Stolpersteine, it came as a pleasant surprise to learn that several had recently been placed in the town where my father was born, Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]. An acquaintance, Magda Wawoczny, a Jewish studies student from Jagiellonian University in Kraków, Poland who hails from Racibórz, recently sent me photos of the first ever brass plaques installed in her hometown.

They were for three members of a family deported in 1938 to the Łódź Ghetto (Figure 2), namely, Szyja Kochen (1897-1944), Ester Bajla Kochen (1898-1944), and Natan David Kochen (1935-1944). (Figure 3) The family once lived in an apartment at 10 Breite Strasse, also known in German times as Brunken; the building still stands today (Figure 4), and the address today is ulica Londzina 10. The Stolpersteine were placed in front of this building. And, Gunter Demnig, who initiated the project in 1992 installed the brass plaques himself. (Figures 5-9)

Figure 2. Map showing distance between Racibórz and Łódź

Figure 3. Ester Bajla Kochen (1898-1944) and her husband Szyja Kochen (1897-1944) (Yad Vashem)

Figure 4. The apartment building as it looks today at Breite Strasse 10, today Londzina 10, where the Kochen family once lived

Figure 5. Gunter Demnig preparing to install the first ever Stolpersteine in Racibórz, Poland

Figure 6. Gunter Demnig beginning the installation of the Stolpersteine in Racibórz, Poland

Figure 7. The installed Stolpersteine for three members of the Kochen family

Figure 8. The installed Stolpersteine for three members of the Kochen family, surrounded by peonies and roses

Figure 9. Gunter Demnig with the Kochen family descendants from Israel in front of their family’s “last address of choice”

While multiple members of my family died during the Shoah, my family had departed Ratibor no later than 1926, therefore, no Stolpersteine are located there. Stumbling stones have been placed at two separate locations in Berlin for my beloved aunt Susanne Müller née Bruck (1904-1942) (Figure 10) and my great-aunt Franziska Bruck (1866-1942). (Figure 11) From personal experience I know that a target of the Nazis need not have died to have a commemorative stone placed at their last address of choice; two members of my Mombert family by marriage have Stolpersteine placed on the pavement in front of their last residence in Giessen, Germany. (Figure 12)

Figure 10. Stolperstein for my beloved aunt Susanne Müller née Bruck (1904-1942) placed in front of her “last address of choice,” Kastanienallee 39 in the Charlottenburg borough of Berlin

Figure 11. Stolperstein for my great-aunt Franziska Bruck (1866-1942) situated in front of her apartment building at Prinzregentenstrasse 75 in the Wilmersdorf borough of Berlin

Figure 12. Four Stolpersteine for my Mombert family by marriage located at Molktstrasse 18 in Giessen, Germany; only Ernst Mombert was murdered in the Holocaust, arrested on the same day in Fayence, France as my aunt Susanne, and both murdered in Auschwitz

In the case of the Kochen family from Ratibor, I have no concrete evidence that they interacted with my family, although I’m certain the Kochen family would have been familiar with my family’s establishment, the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. Szyja Kochen, the patriarch of the family, is believed to have been a salesman, possibly a “stepper” (i.e., dancer), so unless he dealt in a service required by the hotel, it is unlikely our families’ paths ever crossed. Still, one can never be certain given that Ratibor was a relatively small town with a small Jewish population. Also unknown is how long the Kochen family was associated with Ratibor; my Bruck family was there since the early 19^th century.

Aware that three members of the Kochen family had perished in the Holocaust, I checked the Yad Vashem Holocaust Remembrance Center’s victims’ database. As expected, I found all three listed along with Pages of Testimony that have been submitted by a Nadav Kochen, who I surmise is a grandson or a grandnephew of Szyja and Ester Kochen. Nadav also included two photographs of his ancestors. (see Figure 3)

According to the Stolperstein for Szyja Kochem, he was deported to Łódź, and purportedly murdered there on the 7^th of March 1944 in the Łódź Ghetto. By contrast, his wife Ester Bajla Kochen’s Stolperstein and that of his son Natan David Kochen indicate they were murdered in August 1944 at Auschwitz [Oświęcim, Poland]. Obviously, at some point they were moved from the Łódź Ghetto to Auschwitz. (Figure 13)

Figure 13. Map showing distance between Łódź and Auschwitz

Among the documents I found for Szyja, Ester, and David Kochen was a list with their names showing their address when they were locked inside the Łódź Ghetto, Pfeffergasse 14, Flat 25; this information comes from a so-called “Jewish Ghetto Inhabitant List.” (Figure 14) The dates of birth on this list match the dates on the Pages of Testimony submitted by Nadav Kochen. Yad Vashem also includes Szyja Kochen’s Łódź work permit with his photo confirming his address (Figure 15); boldly stamped across this document is the word “GESTORBEN,” died.

Figure 14. A page from the “Łódź Ghetto Inhabitant List” showing four members of the Kochen family were living at Pfeffergasse 14, Flat 25, including the previously unknown to me Frida Kochen born on the 28th of December 1925

Figure 15. Szyja Kochen’s Łódź Ghetto work permit with his photograph, place of residence, and the word “GESTORBEN,” died, boldly stamped across it

What immediately caught my attention on the Łódź Jewish Ghetto Inhabitant List was the name of another family member, Frida Kochen, shown as being born on the 28^th of December 1925. (see Figure 14) Obviously, no Stolperstein has been placed in her honor in Racibórz, so I assumed her fate might have turned out differently. And, sure enough, I found another list in Yad Vashem, entitled “Stutthof survivors who had been on a barge that was stranded in the bay of Eckernförde in Schleswig-Holstein (Northern German)” with Frida listed under her married name, “Frieda Ben David Cohen,” born in 1925 in Ratibor. (Figure 16) Again, in contrast to her mother and brother, this list makes clear that at some point she had been transferred from Auschwitz to the concentration camp in Stutthof [today: Sztutowo, Poland], located about 370 miles north of Auschwitz. (Figure 17)

Figure 16. A list from Yad Vashem, entitled “Stutthof survivors who had been on a barge that was stranded in the bay of Eckernförde in Schleswig-Holstein (Northern German)” with Frida listed under her married name, “Frieda Ben David Cohen”

Figure 17. Map showing the distance from Auschwitz to Sztutowo (Stutthof)

I next turned to ancestry.com trying to untangle this surprising finding. I quickly found information for “Fridah Ben David” who I ascertained was the Frida Kochen in question, born on the 28^th of December 1925 in Ratibor, and learned she had done an interview with the USC Shoah Foundation on the 5^th of February 1998 in Tel Aviv, Israel; unfortunately the dialogue is in Hebrew and no transcript nor translation has been done of the two-hour long testimonial. (Figure 18)

Figure 18. Screen shot from the USC Shoah Foundation Visual History Archive with information on the testimonial Fridah Ben David née Kochen did in 1998

Obviously, Frida avoided the fate of her parents and younger brother, although I’m still trying to understand the circumstances of how she accomplished this. Separately, in ancestry, I discovered Szyja and Ester had two additional offspring, Shoshonah Rozah Fayvel née Kochen (b. 1920 in Ratibor) and Me’ir Maks Kochen (b. 1921 in Ratibor), both of whom also survived the Holocaust. (Figure 19) I’m trying to contact Nadav Kochen who submitted the Pages of Testimony to Yad Vashem hoping he might shed some light on his ancestor’s ordeal. Watch this space for a future postscript.

Figure 19. Page from ancestry.com showing the names of Frida Ben David’s three siblings, two of whom survived the Holocaust

Even though Frida’s testimonial contains no transcript nor translation, the USC Shoah Foundation’s website includes very brief one-line annotations for the 137 segments of the two-hour interview. These notations provide clues to the places where Frida was held during the war and moved to following the war though in no chronological order.

I know from the document I found in Yad Vashem of Stutthof survivors who were stranded in the bay of Eckernförde in Schleswig-Holstein that Frida was moved from the Stutthof concentration camp to mainland Germany. Let me reconstruct what may have happened based on the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum’s historical accounts of this concentration camp.

The Germans established the Stutthof camp in a wooded area west of Stutthof [today: Sztutowo, Poland], a town about 22 miles east of Danzig [today: Gdansk, Poland] in September 1939. Stutthof was secluded. To the north was the Bay of Danzig, to the east the Vistula Lagoon, and to the west the Vistula River. The land was very wet, almost at sea level. As a related aside, Danzig is where my father apprenticed as a dentist; the Bay of Danzig where he sometimes went sailing; Stutthof where he often went to the beach; and the Vistula Lagoon where he engaged in winter sports.

Originally, Stutthof was a civilian internment camp under the Danzig police chief. In November 1941, it became a “labor education” camp, administered by the German Security Police. Finally, in January 1942, Stutthof became a regular concentration camp.

Tens of thousands of people were deported to Stutthof, mostly non-Jewish Poles, Polish Jews from Warsaw and Białystok, as well as Jews from forced labor camps in the occupied Baltic states, which the Germans evacuated in 1944 as the Red Army was approaching. I can find no clue as to why Frida would have been transferred all the way from Auschwitz to Stutthof.

Conditions in the camp were brutal. Typhus epidemics regularly swept the camp and many prisoners died. Those too weak to work were gassed in the camp’s small gas chamber. Camp doctors were complicit in killing many injured or sick prisoners by injection. Purportedly, more than 60,000 people died in the camp.

The Germans used Stutthof prisoners as forced laborers. Some prisoners worked in SS-owned businesses while others labored in local private industrial enterprises. In Post 121 and Post 121, Postscript I discussed Gerhard Epp’s use of forced laborers from Stutthof in his nearby metal working and munitions workshop; Gerhard was the brother of two close friends of my father from Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland], 10 miles to the south of Stutthof, when my father had his dental practice between 1932 and 1937.

The part of the story I want to focus on is the evacuation of prisoners from Stutthof, which was barbaric. By January 1945, there were nearly 50,000 prisoners in the 105 subcamps of Stutthof, mostly Jews. Beginning at around this time, about 5,000 prisoners were marched to the Baltic Sea, forced into the water, and machine gunned. The remainder of the prisoners were marched towards eastern Germany but were cut off by advancing Soviet forces. The Germans forced the survivors back to Stutthof, thousands of whom died en route on account of the severe winter conditions and brutal treatment by SS guards.

By late April 1945, because Stutthof was completely encircled by Soviet forces, the remaining prisoners were removed by sea. Again many prisoners were forced into the sea and gunned down. Over 4,000 were sent by small barge to Germany. (Figure 20) The list of survivors includes Frida’s name showing she made it to Eckernförde in the German state of Schleswig-Holstein and was incarcerated in an adjacent concentration camp in Kiel. She was finally liberated by British Army troops in May 1945. It is estimated that of the 50,000 prisoners held in Stutthof in January 1945, 25,000, or one in two, died during the evacuation. This makes Frida’s survival even more remarkable.

Figure 20. Forcible evacuation by barge of Stutthof concentration camp inmates in 1945 from Danzig (from the United States Holocaust Museum website)

The annotated interview the USC Shoah Foundation conducted with Frida lists a host of places connected to her presumed movements following her liberation, including cities in Germany (i.e., Schafstedt) Austria (i.e., Innsbruck, Bad Gustein, and Klagenfurt), and Italy (i.e., Udine Displaced Person’s Camp, Savona). Absent translation and chronology, it is mere conjecture whether these movements were by choice or necessity.

Knowing Frida eventually emigrated to British Palestine, I theorize she boarded the ship named the “Josiah Wedgewood” in Savona, which she specifically mentioned in her testimonial. Savona is a seaport community in the west part of the northern Italian region of Liguria and is known to have been one of the embarkation ports for this ship boarding Jewish refugees attempting to reach Palestine. There exists a June 1946 photography by Emil Reynolds showing some of the 1,300 European refugees aboard the former Canadian corvette Josiah Wedgewood after it was fired upon and captured on June 27^th by British warships after the corvette tried to land illegally in Palestine. (Figure 21) It’s unknown whether Frida was aboard the ship at this time. What is conclusive is that unlike so many of her fellow inmates in the Łódź Jewish Ghetto and in the concentration camps of Auschwitz, Stutthof, and Kiel, Frida survived and thrived. (Figure 22)

Figure 21. June 1946 Emil Reynolds photograph taken aboard the “Josiah Wedgewood” ship with some of the 1,300 Jewish refugees who attempted to escape British authorities and land illegally in Palestine (from the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum website)

Figure 22. Frida Ben David née Kochen surrounded by her granddaughter and daughter in an undated photograph taken in Tel Aviv, Israel

FOOTNOTE: A Polish reader of my blog was dismayed and pained by my failure to specifically mention that non-Jewish Polish victims of Nazi German crimes should be among the groups recognized through installation of Stolpersteine in Poland. I wholeheartedly agree. While acknowledging the importance of commemorating innocent victims of the Holocaust, the reader stressed that I was “. . .distorting the historical truth by saying ‘Nazi crimes’ instead of ‘Nazi German crimes’” The reader emphasized that Nazism was a creation of German culture and it was supported in a democratic vote by Germans, and by failing to make this clear I avoided distinguishing between victims and executioners.

I don’t use the term “Nazi crimes” in this post. I was talking about German war crimes based on the extermination policies of Germany’s National Socialist regime. I acknowledge mention should be made of the millions of non-Jewish Polish citizens killed by the Germans during WWII. According to the Holocaust Encyclopedia, “It is estimated that the Germans killed between 1.8 and 1.9 million non-Jewish Polish civilians during World War II. In addition, the Germans murdered at least 3 million Jewish citizens of Poland.” My blog post was in no way intended to minimize the enormous number of non-Jewish Polish victims of Nazi aggression, which should most assuredly be commemorated, but rather was to indicate the efforts that some Polish towns and cities are making to recognize some of their Jewish victims.

REFERENCES

Ben David, Fridah. Personal interview with USC Shoah Foundation. 5 February 1998.

Ben-Tzur, Tzvi and Aryeh Malkin. “The Voyage of the ‘Josiah Wedgewood’.” http://www.palyam.org/English/Hahapala/hf/hf_Wedgwood.pdf

Dege, Stefan. “’Stolpersteine’: Commemorating victims of Nazi persecution.” DW, 30 May 2023. https://cc.bingj.com/cache.aspx?q=stolpersteine%3a+commemorating+victims+of+Nazi+persecution&d=4770772662747258&mkt=en-US&setlang=en-US&w=NjbMU3Tw6fh5fwT1QFxwCDfU2uG9SmRu

Markusz, Katarzyna. “Polish city refuses to install memorial stones for Holocaust victims.” 23 December 2019, The Times of Israel. https://www.timesofisrael.com/polish-city-refuses-to-install-memorial-stones-for-holocaust-victims/

Rafter, Catherine. “Munich compromises on Holocaust Memorial Plans.” Observer, 5 August 2015. https://cc.bingj.com/cache.aspx?q=munich+compromises+on+holocaust+memorial+plans&d=4994802452810164&mkt=en-US&setlang=en-US&w=MqJZbPJj4z_fX5-uIPDyOAtbDaiFWg_J

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. “Jewish refugees wait aboard the Josiah Wedgewood after British navy fired at the ship.” Photograph Number: 37543

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

Note: In this post, I present more information on my great-aunt Franziska Bruck (1866-1942), a well-known florist in Berlin in the first third of the twentieth century. Some of this new information is drawn from a recent entry made on German Wikipedia.

POST 15, POSTSCRIPT: BERLIN-FRANZISKA & ELSBETH BRUCK: “ARTIFACTS” FROM FRANZISKA’S BLUMENSCHULE (FLOWER SCHOOL)

Probably not unlike the ancestors of many readers, there are multiple accomplished personages in my lineage. Some can even be found in Wikipedia. Such is the case with my great-aunt Franziska Bruck (Figure 1), an innovative and renowned florist in Berlin in the first third of the twentieth century until the Nazis came to power. Recently, the author of the German Wikipedia entry asked me to review the scripts she drafted on Franziska (https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franziska_Bruck) and her equally renowned sister Elsbeth Bruck, the subject of my next post. While some of the background was drawn from my publications, I learned new things on both great-aunts which I present to readers in amended form in this and the ensuing post. Because Wikipedia prefers its writers to remain anonymous, I’m not naming this German lady at her request.

Figure 1. My favorite picture of my great-aunt Franziska Bruck (1866-1942), prominent Berlin florist in the first third of the twentieth century

I’ve discussed my great-aunt Franziska Bruck in two prior publications, Post 15 and Post 15, Postscript. Let me very briefly recap. Franziska was born on December 29, 1866, in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland], and was the second daughter of Fedor and Friederike Bruck, owners of the family hotel there, the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. Little is known of Franziska’s early years in Ratibor. Her father, Fedor Bruck, passed away in 1892 when she was 26 years old, so as one of the three oldest children, it is likely that along with her mother, and older brother and sister, they together ran the Bruck’s Hotel in Ratibor for a time. Eventually, however, Franziska, along with her mother Friederike and her youngest sister Elsbeth, left for Berlin in 1902, leaving the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor to be managed by my grandparents, Felix and Else Bruck. (Figure 2)

Figure 2. My grandparents, Felix Bruck (1864-1927) and Else Bruck née Berliner (1873-1957), who once ran the family hotel in Ratibor, Germany the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel

In Berlin she opened a flower shop on Potsdamer Straße continuing her lifelong passion for nurturing flowers. In October 1912, she opened a Schule für Blumenschmuck, a school for flower decorations catering to “Damen höherer Stände,” ladies of the upper classes who she trained to become florists and gardeners over a rigorous ten-month period. (Figure 3) As Wikipedia notes, “The fact that Bruck’s school was highly regarded was . . . demonstrated by a visit by the last German Crown Princess Cecilie, who personally informed herself on site about ‘the work of the homeworkers.’” Germany’s last Kaiser, Wilhelm II, and his wife are said to have been among my great-aunt’s customers.

Figure 3. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck (middle) overseeing the creation of floral decorations in her flower shop

Family photographs exist of Crown Princess Cecilie visiting my great-aunt’s Schule für Blumenschmuck which I have featured in previous posts. (Figures 4-5) However, unbeknownst to me is that the special event was documented by a specially produced photo postcard showing my great-aunt with the Crown Princess and her lady-in-waiting. (Figure 6) The distinguished publishing house Gustav Liersch & Co. in Berlin created the postcard; they were known for among other things producing postcards with portraits of high-ranking personalities made by well-known photographers.

Figure 4. Princess Cecilie, the last German Crown Princess (as the wife of Wilhelm, German Crown Prince, the son of Emperor Wilhelm II, Germany’s last Kaiser) visiting my great-aunt’s flower school; my aunt is standing to the left of Princess Cecilie

Figure 5. Painting of Princess Cecilie, the last German Crown Princess

Figure 6. Picture postcard produced by the distinguished publishing house Gustav Liersch & Co. in Berlin of Princess Cecilie’s visit to Franziska Bruck’s flower school believed to have been taken place in around 1916

A February 1915 article, in a German journal entitled “Die Bindekunst,” featured Franziska Bruck and mentioned she had gotten her start in Berlin 10 years earlier, so roughly in 1905. She introduced into Germany a form of Ikebana, the Japanese art of flower arrangement, that was not initially taken seriously. It wasn’t until her first public show in 1907 at a special flower exhibition that her artistry and excellent taste began to be appreciated.

The author of the Wikipedia entry on Franziska notes that multi-page essays on her floral art appeared in Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration and in Dekorative Kunst, the most important art magazines of the time. The art critic Paul Westheim wrote the following about Franziska in 1913:

“Franziska Bruck ist eine Dichterin. Ihre Reime sind blühende Blumen, ihre Verse duftende Sträuße. Wie ein echter Dichter schafft sie aus einem tiefen, ganz innerlichen Gefühl heraus, aus dem Erkennen der Natur, von deren unerschöpflicher Schönheit sie einen Abglanz widerzuspiegeln versucht in dem, was ihre Hände ordnen. […] Weder alte noch neue Regeln der Blumenbinderei greift sie auf. Sie ist eben da, so wie sie ist – als eine Künslerin, die auf ihre Art die Schönheit der Blumen erlebt und als rechtes Glückskind die Gabe bekommen hat, diese Erlebnisse für uns andere sinnfällig zu machen.”

Translated:

“Franziska Bruck is a poet. Her rhymes are blooming flowers, her verses fragrant bouquets. Like a true poet, she creates out of a deep, completely inner feeling, out of the recognition of nature, of whose inexhaustible beauty she tries to reflect a reflection in what her hands arrange. […] She takes up neither old nor new rules of flower arranging. She is just there, as she is – as an artist, who in her own way experiences the beauty of flowers and as a lucky child has been given the gift of making these experiences meaningful for the rest of us.”

From the Wikipedia entry, I also learned that in February 1914, Franziska and her students organized a spring show in the so-called Hohenzollern-Kunstgewerbehaus, the Hohenzollern Arts and Crafts House, on Königgrätzer Straße in Berlin. A fabulous colorful large-format poster, designed by the Austrian graphic artist Julius Klinger, advertised the event. (Figure 7) The various arrangements created for the show were widely praised and featured in Die Gartenkunst magazine along with photos of her special floral decorations.

Figure 7. Colorful large-format poster designed by the Austrian graphic artist Julius Klinger advertising the 1914 Hohenzollern Arts and Crafts House spring show that Franziska and her students organized; Franziska’s name appears at the bottom

Respectively, in 1925 and 1927, my great-aunt published two books, Blumen und Ranken (Figure 8), Flowers and Vines, and Blumenschmuck (Figure 9), Flower Decorations.

Figure 8. Cover of my great-aunt’s 1925 book “Blumen und Ranken”

Figure 9. Cover of my great-aunt’s 1927 book “Blumenschmuck”

Several days after her 75^th birthday, after being ordered to report to an “old age transport” for deportation to a concentration camp, Franziska committed suicide on the 2^nd of January 1942 by hanging herself, leaving this world on her own terms. (Figure 10)

Figure 10. A “stolperstein, or “stumbling stone,” a commemorative brass plaque honoring my great-aunt Franziska Bruck as a victim of the Holocaust placed in front of the last home she freely chose to live located at Prinzregentenstr. 75

REFERENCES

Bruck, Franziska (1925). Blumen und Ranken. München: Verlag Von F. Bruckmann A.-G.

Bruck, Franziska (1927). Blumenschmuck. Frankfurt-Oder: Verlagsanstalt Trwoitzsch & Sohn.

“Franziska Bruck.” Wikipedia, Franziska Bruck – Wikipedia

POST 120: FAMILY PHOTOS, DISCOVERING & DECODING THEM

Note: In this post, I discuss “stashes” of family photos I’ve uncovered, and the efforts I’ve undertaken with the help of near and distant relatives to identify people in some of those images even absent captions. In a few instances the photos are significant because they illustrate individuals renowned or notorious in history. In other cases, a good deal of sleuthing was required, including comparing the pictures of people in captioned versus uncaptioned images. On other occasions, I recognized portrayals of family members I knew growing up. And, in rare instances, I was able to determine a photographed person based on an educated guess.

POST 17: SURVIVING IN BERLIN IN THE TIME OF HITLER: MY UNCLE FEDOR’S STORY

POST 31: WITNESS TO HISTORY, “PROOF” OF HITLER’S DEATH IN MY UNCLE FEDOR’S OWN WORDS

POST 33: FINDING GREAT-UNCLE WILLY’S GRANDCHILDREN

POST 34: MARGARETH BERLINER, WRAITH OR BEING?

POST 41: DR. OTTO BERGER & OTHER “SILENT HEROES” WHO HELPED MY UNCLE DR. FEDOR BRUCK SURVIVE THE NAZI REGIME

POST 45: HOLOCAUST REMEMBRANCE: RECALLING MY PAULY ANCESTORS

POST 56: REFLECTIONS ON LIFE AND FAMILY BY THE PATERFAMILIAS, DR. JOSEF PAULY

POST 65: GERMANY’S LAST EMPEROR, WILHELM II, PICTURED WITH UNKNOWN FAMILY MEMBER

POST 99: THE ASTONISHING DISCOVERY OF SOME OF DR. WALTER WOLFGANG BRUCK’S PERSONAL EFFECTS

POST 100: DR. WALTER WOLFGANG BRUCK, DENTIST TO GERMANY’S LAST IMPERIAL FAMILY

The antisemitic and racist laws enacted by the Nazis short-circuited my father’s career as a dentist. Pursuant to his formal training at the University of Berlin, followed by an apprenticeship in Danzig (today: Gdansk, Poland), my father, Dr. Otto Bruck (Figure 1), opened his own dental practice in Tiegenhof in the Free City of Danzig (today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland) in April 1932; by April 1937, my father was forced to flee Tiegenhof, and by March 1938 he had left Germany altogether, clearly seeing the handwriting on the wall. As an unmarried man with few family ties, this was an option open to him. My father would never again legally practice dentistry.

Figure 1. My father Dr. Otto Bruck as a dental apprentice in Danzig in 1931

My father considered the five years he spent in Tiegenhof to be the halcyon days of his life. Judging from the numerous photos of his days spent there, including those illustrating his active social life, his professional acquaintances, and recreational pursuits, I would be hard-pressed to argue otherwise.

I originally intended in this post to briefly discuss with readers the history of Polish Mennonites because Tiegenhof, the town where my father had his dental practice, was largely Mennonite when my father lived there. The Mennonites arrived in the Żuławy Wiślane region (i.e. “the Vistula fens,” plural from “żuława”), the alluvial delta area of the Vistula in the northern part of Poland, in the 17^th century. They came to escape religious persecution in the Netherlands and Flanders. I have instead decided to devote the subsequent Blog post to discussing the history of Polish Mennonites, and briefly explore how the Mennonites, who are committed to pacifism, inexplicably, became strong adherents of Hitler. I intend in the following post to use photos from my father’s collection to focus on one Mennonite family, the Epp family, with whom my father was acquainted and friends with. They have a dark history related to their connection to the Nazi regime.

Getting back on track. Curious whether the office building where my father had both his dental practice and residence still existed (Figure 2), in 2013 my wife Ann Finan and I visited Nowy Dwór Gdański. We quickly oriented ourselves to the layout of the town, and promptly determined that his office and residential building no longer stands. I would later learn that the structure had been destroyed by Russian bombers when Nazi partisans shot at them from this location.

Figure 2. The office building in Tiegenhof in the Free City of Danzig in October 1934 where my father had his dental practice and residence, which no longer exists. Note the swastikas festooning the building

During our initial visit to Nowy Dwór Gdański, we were directed to the local museum, the Muzeum Żuławskie. The museum docent the day we visited spoke English, so I was able to communicate to her that my Jewish father had once been a dentist in the town and had taken many pictures when living there of Tiegenhof and the Żuławy Wiślane region. I offered to make the photos available, which I in fact did upon my return to the States.

In 2014, my wife Ann and I were invited to Nowy Dwór Gdański for an in-depth tour and a translated talk. Naturally, during my presentation, I used many of my father’s photos. There was a question-and-answer period following my talk, and one Polish gentleman of Jewish descent commented on how fortunate I am to have so many photographs of my father, family, and friends. I agreed. In the case of this gentleman, he remarked he has only seven family pictures, which I think is often true for descendants of Holocaust survivors. In my instance, my father’s seven albums of surviving photos, covering from the 1910’s until 1948 when my father came to America, are the reason I started researching and writing about my family.

Given the importance pictures have played in the stories I research and write about, and the development of this Blog, I thought I would highlight a few of the more interesting and historically significant pictures in my father’s collection, as well as discuss other “stashes” of photos I’ve uncovered. Obviously, it’s impossible and would be of scant interest to readers to discuss all the photos.

My father was a witness to the rise of National Socialism from the window of his dental office in Tiegenhof. On May 1, 1933, my father photographed a regiment of “SA Sturmabteilung,” literally “Storm Detachment,” known also as “Brownshirts” or “Storm Troopers,” marching down the nearby Schlosserstrasse, carrying Nazi flags, framed by the “Kreishaus” (courthouse) on one side. (Figure 3)

Figure 3. Father’s photograph of Nazis marching down Schlosserstrasse in Tiegenhof on May 1, 1933, taken from his dental office

Again, a year later to the day, on May 1, 1934, my father documented a parade of veterans and Brownshirts following the same path down Schlosserstrasse led by members of the Stahlhelm (“Steel Helmet”), a veterans’ organization that arose after the German defeat of WWI. (Figures 4a-b) In 1934, the Stahlhelme were incorporated into the SA Sturmabteilung, the original paramilitary wing of the Nazi Party.

Figure 4a. A year later May 1, 1934, Nazi Storm Troopers and WWI veterans again marching down Schlosserstrasse in Tiegenhof

Figure 4b. WWI veterans, “Stahlhelme,” at the head of the Nazi parade on May 1, 1934, in Tiegenhof

Then again, the following year, on April 5, 1935, there was another Nazi parade. On this occasion Field Marshall Hermann Göring visited and participated in the march through Tiegenhof. The day prior, on April 4, 1935, Hermann Göring had visited the Free City of Danzig to influence the upcoming April 7^th parliamentary elections in favor of Nazi candidates. The visit to Tiegenhof the next day was merely an extension of this campaign to influence the Free City’s parliamentary elections. In the photos that my father took on April 5^th there can be seen a banner which in German reads “Danzig ist Deutsch wenn es nationalsozialistisch ist,” translated as “Danzig is German when it is National Socialist.” (Figures 5a-b) It appears that along with everyday citizens of Tiegenhof and surrounding communities, members of the Hitler Youth, known in German as Hitlerjugend, also lined the street in large number.

Figure 5a. Nazi Field Marshall Hermann Göring standing in his open-air limousine on March 5, 1935, as he parades through Tiegenhof

Figure 5b. A Nazi banner reading “Danzig ist Deutsch wenn es nationalsozialistisch ist” (translated as “Danzig is German when it is National Socialist”) hung across the street that Field Marshall Hermann Göring traveled down on March 5, 1935, as he paraded through Tiegenhof

Students of history know about Hermann Göring but for those who are unfamiliar with him, let me say a few words. He would evolve to become the second-highest ranking Nazi after the Führer. Unlike many of Hitler’s sycophants and lieutenants, Göring was a veteran of WWI, having been an ace fighter pilot, a recipient of the prestigious Blue Max award, and a commander of the Jagdgeschwader a fighter group that had previously been led by the renowned Red Baron, Manfred von Richthofen. Göring was drawn to Hitler for his oratorical skills and became an early member of the Nazi Party. He participated with Hitler in the failed Beer Hall Putsch of 1923, during which he was wounded in the groin. During his recovery he was regularly given morphine to which he became addicted for the remainder of his life.

Göring oversaw the creation of the Gestapo, an organization he later let Heinrich Himmler run. He was best known as the commander-in-chief of the Luftwaffe, although after the Nazi victory over France, he was made Reichsmarschall, head of all the German armed forces. He amassed great wealth for himself by stealing paintings, sculptures, jewelry, cash, and valuable artifacts not only from Jews and people whom Nazis had murdered but also by looting museums of defeated nations.

Towards the end of the war, following an awkward attempt to have Hitler appoint him head of the Third Reich and thereby drawing Hitler’s ire, he turned himself in to the Americans rather than risk being captured by the Russians. He eventually was indicted and stood trial at Nuremberg. The once obese Göring, who’d once weighed more than three hundred pounds, was a shadow of his former self at his trial. Expectedly, he was convicted on all counts, and sentenced to death by hanging. His request to be executed by firing squad was denied, but he was able to avoid the hangman’s noose by committing suicide using a potassium cyanide pill that had inexplicably been smuggled to him by an American soldier.

My uncle, Dr. Fedor Bruck, has been the subject of multiple previous posts (i.e., Post 17, Post 31, Post 41). My uncle, like my father was a dentist. He was educated at the University of Breslau (today: Wrocław, Poland) and had his dental practice in Liegnitz, Germany (today: Legnica, Poland) until around 1933 when he was forced to give it up due to the “Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service” passed by the Nazi regime on the 7^th April 1933, two months after Adolf Hitler had attained power. My uncle’s life is of interest because he miraculously survived the entire war hidden in Berlin by friends and non-Jewish family members. His story has also been of interest because he counted among his friends a woman named Käthe Heusermann-Reiss, who had been his dental assistant in Liegnitz.

Following the loss of his business my uncle relocated to Berlin hoping the anonymity of the larger city would afford him the possibility to continue working under the auspices of another dentist, which it did for a time. Käthe Heusermann also moved to Berlin and opportunistically landed herself a job as a dental assistant to Hitler’s American-trained dentist, Dr. Hugo Blaschke. In this capacity, she was always present when Dr. Blaschke treated Hitler. Following the end of the war, she was interrogated by the Russians and asked to identify dental remains which had been recovered in a burn pit outside the Reichstag. The bridgework performed by Dr. Blaschke on Hitler was outmoded so Käthe was easily able to recognize Blaschke’s work and Hitler’s teeth, a fact Stalin kept hidden from the world. Following Russia’s capture of Berlin at the end of the war, my uncle who’d temporarily been hiding in Käthe’s apartment learned from her that Hitler had committed suicide. This dangerous information resulted in Käthe being imprisoned in the USSR for many years, and my uncle barely escaping the same fate. Surviving among my father’s photographs is a noteworthy picture taken in Liegnitz of my uncle and Käthe Heusermann. Though uncaptioned, I have been able to compare it to known pictures of Käthe to confirm it is her. (Figure 6)

Figure 6. My uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck in his dental office in Liegnitz, Germany with his dental assistant Käthe Heusermann-Reiss who would later go on to become the dental assistant for Dr. Hugo Blaschke, Hitler’s dentist. Following the war, she would identify Hitler’s dental remains, a fact the Russians hid for many years

As I have told readers in multiple earlier posts my father was an active sportsman, and an excellent amateur tennis player. Among my father’s belongings I retain multiple of the prizes he was awarded for his achievements, including many newspaper clippings documenting his results. In August 1936, my father attended an International Tennis Tournament in Zoppot, Germany (today: Sopot, Poland), located a mere 32 miles from Tiegenhof. During his attendance there, he photographed the great German tennis player, Heinrich Ernst Otto “Henner” Henkel (Figure 7), whose biggest success was his singles title at the 1937 French Championships. Interestingly, Henkel learned to play tennis at the “Rot-Weiss” Tennis Club in Berlin. My father was a member of the “Schwarz-Weiss” Tennis Club in Berlin, so perhaps my father and Henner played one another and were acquainted. Henner Henkel was killed in action during WWII on the Eastern Front at Voronezh during the Battle of Stalingrad while serving in the Wehrmacht, the German Army.

Figure 7. The famous German tennis player, Henner Henkel, in August 1936 at the International Tennis Tournament in Zoppot, Germany

As I mentioned above, my father left Germany for good in March 1938. He was headed to stay with his sister Susanne and brother-in-law, then living in Fiesole, a small Tuscan town outside Florence, Italy. During his sojourn in Italy, before eventually joining the French Foreign Legion later in 1938, my father visited some of the tourist attractions in Italy, including the Colosseum in Rome. One of the images that my father took there has always stood out to me because of the paucity of people around what is today a very crowded and visited venue. (Figure 8)

Figure 8. The Colosseum in Rome in August 1938

My father’s collection of photos number in the hundreds but I’ve chosen to highlight only certain ones because they illustrate a few personages or places that may be known to readers. My father’s collection is merely one among several caches of images I was able to track down through family and acquaintances. I want to call attention to a few pictures of family members that grabbed my attention from these other hoards.

In Post 33, I explained to readers how I tracked down the grandchildren of my grandfather’s brother, Wilhelm “Willy” Bruck (1872-1952). Based on family correspondence, I knew my great-uncle Willy wound up in Barcelona after escaping Germany in the 1930’s and theorized his children and grandchildren may have continued to live there. Official vital documents I procured during a visit there convinced me otherwise, that at least his son returned to Germany after WWII. I was eventually able to track down both of my great-uncle’s grandchildren, that’s to say my second cousins Margarita and Antonio Bruck, to outside of Munich, Germany. (Figure 9) I have met both, and they’ve shared their family pictures, which again number in the hundreds.

Figure 9. My second cousins Margarita and Antonio Bruck from near Munich, Germany in May 2022, source of many family photos

The cache included many images of family members, but there are two pictures I was particularly thrilled to obtain copies of. My uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck (1895-1982), previously discussed, fought in WWI on the Eastern Front. (Figure 10) Among the family memorabilia I retain is a postcard he sent to his aunt Franziska Bruck on the 3^rd of September 1916 coincidentally from the Ukraine announcing his promotion to Sergeant. (Figures 11a-b) The ongoing conflict between the Ukraine and Russia makes me realize how long the Ukraine has been a staging area for wars.

Figure 10. My uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck in his WWI uniform

Figure 11a. The front side of a postcard my uncle Fedor mailed to his aunt Franziska Bruck during WWI from the Eastern Front in Ukraine on the 3rd of September 1916

Figure 11b. The backside of the postcard my uncle mailed from the Ukraine on the 3rd of September 1916

Regular readers may recall that my father was born in Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland), in Upper Silesia. The family hotel there, owned through three generations between roughly 1850 and the early 1920’s, was known as the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. Among my second cousins’ photos is a rare image of the entrance to this hotel, which no longer stands. (Figure 12)

Figure 12. The entrance to the family hotel in Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland), Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel circa. 1914. The hotel is no longer standing

I introduced readers to two of my grandfather’s renowned sisters, my great-aunts Franziska and Elsbeth Bruck, way back in Post 15. Their surviving personal papers are archived at the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, the westernmost of the twelve boroughs of Berlin; these files have been another source of family photographs. Franziska Bruck was an eminent florist, and it is reputed that one of her clients was the last German Kaiser, Wilhelm II (1859-1941). One undated photograph taken in my great-aunt’s flower shop shows Duchess Cecilie Auguste Marie of Mecklenburg-Schwerin (1886-1954), the last Crown Princess of Germany and Prussia, who was married to Kaiser Wilhelm II’s son, Wilhelm, the German Crown Prince. (Figure 13)

Figure 13. Duchess Cecilie Auguste Marie of Mecklenburg-Schwerin (1886-1954), the last Crown Princess of Germany and Prussia, married to Kaiser Wilhelm II’s son, visiting my great-aunt Franziska Bruck’s flower school in Berlin

My second cousins Margarita and Antonio Bruck introduced me to one of my third cousins, Andreas “Andi” Pauly, also living part-time in Munich, Germany. (Figure 14) The Pauly branch of my extended family, which originally hailed from Posen, Germany (today: Poznan, Poland) has been the subject of multiple blog posts, including Post 45 on Pauly family Holocaust victims and reflections in Post 56 by the paterfamilias, Dr. Josef Pauly (1843-1916), Andi Pauly’s great-grandfather. Josef Pauly and his wife Rosalie Pauly née Mockrauer (1844-1927) had eight daughters and one son born between 1870 and 1885; thanks to photos provided by Andi Pauly, not only was I able to obtain images of all nine children but also some of Pauly cousins I knew of by name.

Figure 14. My third cousin Andreas “Andi” Pauly, source of many family photos

Again, it is not my intention to boggle readers’ minds by showing all these photos but I want to focus on one particular picture I originally obtained from Andi Pauly that was the subject of Post 65. The photo was taken in Doorn, Netherlands on the 28^th of May 1926, and shows a then-unknown Bruck family member standing amidst a group that includes the last German Kaiser, Wilhelm II, his second wife, Princess Hermine Reuss of Greiz (1887-1947), and her youngest daughter by her first marriage, Princess Henriette of Schönaich-Carolath (1918-1972), and the Royal Family’s entourage. (Figure 15) At the time I wrote Post 65, I was unable to determine who the Bruck family member was, nor whom the initials “W.B.” stood for.

Figure 15. Postcard of the last German Emperor Wilhelm II, his second wife Princess Hermine Reuss of Greiz (1887-1947), and her youngest daughter by her first marriage, Princess Henriette of Schönaich-Carolath (1918-1972), taken in 1926 in Doorn, the Netherlands. A then-unknown member of the Bruck family is surrounded by the Royal Family’s entourage

Fast forward. In early 2021, I was astonished to receive an email from a Dr. Tilo Wahl, a doctor from Köpenick in Berlin, who stumbled upon my Blog and contacted me. He shared copies of the extensive collection of personal papers and photographs he had copied from the grandson of one of my esteemed ancestors, Dr. Walter Bruck (1872-1937), from Breslau, Germany (today: Wrocław, Poland) Again, this relative and my findings related to Dr. Walter Bruck have been chronicled in multiple earlier posts. The very same image discussed in the previous paragraph I had obtained from Andi Pauly was included among Dr. Bruck’s images. It was then I realized the unidentified Bruck family member standing with Kaiser Wilhelm II, his family, and his entourage was none other than Dr. Bruck’s second wife, Johanna Elisabeth Margarethe Gräbsch (1884-1963). (Figure 16) I discussed these findings in Post 100.

Figure 16. Same photograph as Figure 15 that Dr. Walter Bruck took of his wife Johanna and the Kaiser’s entourage in September 1925 with identifications (photo courtesy of Dr. Tilo Wahl)

Dr. Walter Bruck’s collection of papers and photos yielded images of multiple family members about whom I was aware, including one of Dr. Walter Bruck’s three siblings. However, one that stands out amongst all these photos was the one of Dr. Walter Bruck’s grandfather Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck (1813-1883). (Figure 17) Dr. Jonas Bruck is buried along with his son, Dr. Julius Bruck, in the restored tombs at the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław, Poland. (Figure 18) Dr. Jonas Bruck was a brother of my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck (1808-1863), the original owner of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland) I previously discussed.

Figure 17. Dr. Walter Bruck’s grandfather, Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck (1813-1883)

Figure 18. The restored gravestones of Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck, his son Dr. Julius Bruck, and their respective wives interred in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław, Poland

In various places, I found fleeting references that Dr. Walter Bruck and Johanna Elisabeth Margarethe Gräbsch had both previously been married. I eventually found historic documents, my gold standard, confirming this. Using educating guesses based on incomplete captions and estimating the timeframe a few pictures in Dr. Walter Bruck’s collection were taken, that’s to say during WWI and before, I was even able to find pictures of both of their previous spouses among his photos.

Dr. Walter Bruck’s album also contain multiple pictures of his daughter, Renate Bruck (1926-2013). She was married three times, with images of two of her husbands included. Thanks to Post 99 Renate’s twin daughters, whom I knew about but had no expectation of ever finding since they’d left England years ago, instead found me. From this, I learned that Walter Bruck’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren live in Sydney, Australia.

I suspect the story I’m about to relate may resonate with some readers, the topic of missing or incomplete captions on pictures of one’s ancestors. Let me provide some context. During the time that my uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck was a dentist in Liegnitz, Germany he carried on an illicit affair with a married non-Jewish woman, Irmgard Lutze (Figure 19), with whom he had two children, my first cousins Wolfgang (Figure 20) and Wera Lutze. During the Nazi era time when it was prohibited and dangerous for an Aryan to have an affair with a Jew, the cuckolded husband nonetheless raised the children as his own. Therefore, they had the Lutze rather than the Bruck surname.

I knew both first cousins well, though both are now deceased. In any case, included among my cousin’s photographs was one that left me perplexed. It showed three generations, the eldest of whom was identified as “Tante Grete Brauer (mother’s sister).” (Figures 21a-b) The “Brauer” surname reverberated only because when perusing my great-aunt Elsbeth Bruck’s papers at the Stadtmuseum I discovered multiple letters written by Brauers. At the time I had no idea this represented another branch of my extended family.

Figure 19. My uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck standing next to Irmgard Lutze, the married Aryan woman with whom he fathered two children

Figure 20. My uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck’s now-deceased son and my first cousin, Wolfgang Lutze (1928-2014), in Hurghada, Egypt in October 2005

Figure 21a. Photo found among my first cousin’s pictures of my grandmother’s sister, Margarethe Brauer née Berliner (1872-1942) who was murdered in the Holocaust

Figure 21b. Caption on backside of Figure 21a.

As I discussed in Post 34, I would eventually work out that “Tante Grete Brauer” was my grandmother Else Bruck née Berliner’s sister, Margarethe Brauer née Berliner (1872-1942) who was murdered in the Holocaust. Prior to finding this isolated picture of my great-aunt, I was completely unaware of her existence. I’ve repeatedly told readers that my father had scant interest in family and rarely spoke of them to me growing up, so I was not surprised by this discovery.

I will give readers one last example of caches of family photos I’ve been able to recover by mentioning my third cousin once-removed, Larry Leyser (Figure 22), who very sadly passed away in 2021 due to complications from Covid. Over the years, Larry and I often shared family documents and photos. Several years ago, he borrowed and scanned a large collection of photos from one of his cousins named Michael Maleckar which he shared with me. As with any such trove, I found a few gems, including one of my own parents at a party they attended in Manhattan the early 1950’s. My father literally “robbed the cradle” when he married my mother as she was 22 years younger than him. This age difference is particularly pronounced in the one picture I show here. (Figure 23)

Figure 22. My third cousin once-removed, Larry Leyser, another source of many family photos

Figure 23. From left to right, my father (Dr. Otto Bruck), my mother (Paulette Bruck), my uncle (Dr. Fedor Bruck), and one of father’s cousins (Franz Kayser) at a party in Manhattan in the early 1950’s

I will merely say, in closing, that I am aware of other caches of family photos that unfortunately I have been unable to lay my hands on. I completely understand that some of my cousins are busy leading their lives and don’t share my passion for family history, so they are excused. One other thought. The longer I work on my family’s history, the more I realize how much I regret not talking with my relatives when they were alive about some of our ancestors as my stories would be broader and would then be grounded in truths rather veiled in so much conjecture.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Sussman, Jeffrey. Holocaust Fighters: Boxers, Resisters, and Avengers. Roman & Littlefield, 2021.

POST 105: FEDOR LÖWENSTEIN’S NAZI-CONFISCATED ART: RESTITUTION DENIED

Note: In this post, I discuss my own attempt to obtain compensation and damages from the French government on behalf of my family for works of art seized by the Nazis in December 1940 from my father’s first cousin, Fedor Löwenstein, a noted painter. I also touch on the multiple occasions France has wronged my family during WWII, following WWII, and continuing to the present.

POST 16: TRACKING MY GREAT-AUNT HEDWIG LÖWENSTEIN, NÉE BRUCK, & HER FAMILY THROUGH FIVE COUNTRIES

POST 71: A DAY IN THE LIFE OF MY FATHER, DR. OTTO BRUCK–22ND OF AUGUST 1930

Figure 1. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck (1866-1942)

Figure 2. My great-aunt Elsbeth Bruck (1874-1970)

This story begins in 2014. This is the year my wife and I took a 13-week trip to Europe traveling from northeastern Poland to southeastern Spain following the path of my Jewish family’s diaspora. It included a stop at the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, on the outskirts of Berlin, where the personal papers of two of my accomplished and unmarried great-aunts, Franziska Bruck (Figure 1) and Elsbeth Bruck (Figure 2), are archived. The family items at the Statdtmuseum include academic papers, diaries, numerous professional and personal letters, family photographs, awards, and miscellaneous belongings. (Figures 3a-b) During my visit, I photographed all the articles and artifacts for later study.

Figure 3a. Entrance to the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, Berlin, Germany where my great-aunts’ personal papers are archived

Figure 3b. Archival boxes at the Stadtmuseum containing my great-aunts’ personal papers

The letters and photographs turned out to be most informative. The letters were written in four forms, Old German Script (known as die Kurrentschrift or Kurrent for short in German); an updated version of Kurrent called Sütterlin developed in the early 20^th Century; normal German script (deutsche Normalschrift); and typed normal German. Suffice it to say, that the three forms of German script are completely indecipherable to me, so I depended on German-speaking friends and relatives to translate these letters. However, in the case of letters typed in German, using a good on-line translator, called DeepL, I was able to make sense of the content of some of these missives.

One letter I translated provides the basis of much of this Blog post. (Figures 4a-c) It contains astonishing information that led to the seven-year odyssey I embarked upon to obtain redress from the French government for an injustice perpetrated upon my father’s first cousin, Fedor Löwenstein, by the Nazis. The letter was written by Fedor’s younger sister, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, to her aunt, my great-aunt, Elsbeth Bruck. It is dated the 30^th of October 1946, and was sent from Nice, France to Berlin, Germany. What makes the letter so astounding is not that it mentions both my paternal grandmother ELSE Bruck and my father OTTO Bruck, since both had connections to Nice and France in 1946, but rather to Hansi’s declaration that one of her brother Fedya’s (named Fedor but also called “Fidel”) paintings had sold posthumously in 1946 for 90,000 French Francs. Using a Historic Currency Converter, I determined this would be worth more than $16,000 as of 2015, obviously even more today. Given the enormous amount that one of Fedor Lowenstein’s paintings had fetched in 1946 convinced me that he was no run-of-the-mill painter and that I needed to learn more about him.

Figure 4a. First page of typed letter dated the 30th of October 1946 sent by my father’s first cousin, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, to her aunt, my great-aunt, Elsbeth Bruck

Figure 4b. Second page of typed letter dated the 30th of October 1946 sent by my father’s first cousin, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, to her aunt, my great-aunt, Elsbeth Bruck

One place my wife and I visited in 2014 attempting to obtain copies of original death certificates for ancestors who had died in Nice was la Mairie de Nice, City Hall. There, I was able to obtain death certificates not only for Fedor Lowenstein (Figure 5) and his mother, Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck (Figure 6), but also for his sister, Jeanne Goff née Löwenstein. (Figure 7) I was fortunate to even find Fedor Lowenstein’s name in the death register. In German, his surname was spelled “Löwenstein,” with the “ö,” that’s to say with an umlaugh over the “o,” transcribed in English as “oe”; in the French death register, Fedor’s surname was spelled simply as “Lowenstein” (Figure 8), so I nearly missed finding his name among the 1946 deaths. I would later discover that Fedor’s surname was variously spelled “Lowenstein,” “Löwenstein,” and even “Loevenstein.”

Figure 5. Fedor Lowenstein’s death certificate from Nice, France indicating he died there on the 4th of August 1946

Figure 6. Fedor Löwenstein’s mother’s death certificate from Nice, France showing Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck died there on the 15th of January 1949; the name on her death certificate is “Edwige Bruck”

Figure 7. Fedor Löwenstein’s sister’s death certificate from Nice, France showing Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein died there on the 5th of May 1986; the name on her death certificate is “Jeanne Loewenstein”

Figure 8. Death register listing dated the 5th of August 1946 for Fedor Löwenstein listing his name as “Fedor Lowenstein”

Having obtained the death certificates, I was dispatched to a different administrative office in Nice, le Service Administration Funéraire, the Funeral Administration Office, to locate their tombs. While Fedor’s sister I learned had been cremated, the Funeral Administration Office directed me to the Cimetière Caucade, the Caucade Communal Cemetery (Figure 9), on the outskirts of Nice to find Fedor and Hedwig’s tombstones. (Figures 10-11) It was providential that I was assisted at the Funeral Administration Office by a Mme. Jöelle Saramito (Figure 12), who would later render me a great service.

Figure 9. Reception Bureau at Cimitiere Caucade where Fedor Löwenstein and his mother were once interred

Figure 10. Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck’s surviving headstone though her bones were removed to a charnel house

Figure 11. Fedor Loewenstein’s headstone correctly transcribing the “ö” as “oe”; the headstone survives though his bones were also removed to a charnel house

Figure 12. In 2015, me standing alongside Mme. Jöelle Saramito from Nice’s Funeral Administration Office, who helped track down valuable information about Fedor Löwenstein

Jeanne Goff née Löwenstein’s translated 1946 letter convinced me her brother was no ordinary painter. Knowing this, I became curious whether I could obtain an obituary from a contemporary newspaper that might lead me to living descendants. Hoping Mme. Saramito might be able to track it down for me, or at least point me in the right direction, I contacted her. What she provided surpassed my expectations.

In what can only be characterized as a fortunate occurrence of serendipity, Mme. Saramito sent me links to several articles about an exposition featuring three of Fedor Löwenstein’s paintings seized by the Nazis that had been displayed at the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Bordeaux. Unbeknownst to my wife and me, this exhibit had taken place there between the 16^th of May and the 24^th of August 2014, overlapping our extended stay in Europe that year; needless to say, had we known about this exposition, we would have detoured there.

Among the links Mme. Saramito sent me was an article naming the art curator for the exhibition held at the Musée des Beaux-Arts, a lady named Florence Saragoza; the article also mentioned the French government was looking for legitimate family members to whom Fedor Loewenstein’s artworks could be returned.

Figure 13. March 1946 photo of Fedor Loewenstein (seated) with his sister Hansi, his brother Heinz, and his mother Hedwig in Nice, France, taken several months before his death in August 1946

Figure 14. Photo of Fedor Loewenstein with his brother Heinz in military uniform taken in Nice, France on the 24th of October 1945

While I had several photographs of Fedor Löwenstein with his family in Nice (Figurse 13-14) found at the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, and a copy of his acte de décès, death certificate, obtained from la Mairie de Nice, there was much I did not know about my father’s first cousin. Hoping to learn more, I tried to contact Mme. Saragoza, and quickly discovered she was affiliated with the Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication as a conservatrice du patrimoine, curator of heritage. My initial email to her at the Ministère de la Culture “bounced.” I eventually learned that she was also the then-Director of the Musée Crozatier in le Puy-en-Velay, France (Figure 15), where my subsequent email reached her. I will always remember her response dated the 16^th of September 2014, “What a surprise to read your e-mail! (To be honest I cried) . . .I’m so glad to read about someone from Lowenstein’s family!” Logically, Mme. Saragoza had assumed that Fedor’s family had been murdered in the Holocaust, emigrated, or would be unlikely to learn about the exhibition in Bordeaux and the resurfaced paintings. More on this later.

Figure 15. Mme. Florence Saragoza, former Director of Musée Crozatier in le Puy-en-Velay, France

Almost immediately after connecting with Mme. Saragoza, she sent me the Journal d’exposition, the exhibition catalog, for the Fédor Löwenstein (1901-1946) trois œuvres martyres exposition. (Figure 16) Most of Fedor Löwenstein’s biography and the history behind the works of art confiscated by the Nazis is drawn from this reference.

Figure 16. Cover page of the 2014 exhibition catalog from the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Bordeaux that featured Fedor Löwenstein’s three orphaned paintings

Wilhelm Fédor Löwenstein was born in Munich, Germany on the 13^th of April 1901, and is often characterized as a Czech painter because this was his family’s country of origin. He first studied at the School of Decorative Arts in Berlin and then at the Academy of Fine Arts in Dresden. In 1923, Fédor Löwenstein settled in Paris (Figures 17a-b), attracted by the artistic influence of the capital. An artistic movement dominated there, designated in 1925 as the École de Paris, the School of Paris; in reality, this name does not refer to any school that really existed, but rather to the École de Paris, which brought together artists who contributed to making Paris the focus of artistic creation between the two world wars. It was in this rich artistic context that Löwenstein painted and drew.

Figure 17a. Undated photo of Fedor Löwenstein as a young man

Figure 17b. Back of undated photo of Fedor Löwenstein indicating he was the first cousin of my aunt Susanne Müller-Bruck, my uncle Fedor Bruck, and my father Otto Bruck

In Paris he mixed with and became a student of the painter André Lhote from Bordeaux and joined the “Groupe des Surindépendants” in 1936. Löwenstein’s early works were marked by the influence of cubism, whose main representatives worked in Paris, although his subsequent productions evolved towards abstraction, probably under the influence of André Lhote. In 1938, he painted “La Chute” (The Fall), inspired by the signing of the Munich Agreement that dismantled the Czechoslovakia that had been created in 1918. As is noted in the 2014 Bordeaux retrospective exhibition catalog, “The composition and iconographic vocabulary of the work are reminiscent of the convulsed and screaming silhouettes of Picasso’s Guernica, exhibited a year earlier in the Spanish Pavilion at the Paris World’s Fair.” The comparison to Picasso’s famed work speaks volumes about Löwenstein’s remarkable talent.

When France entered the war in September 1939, Löwenstein, like many artists, had to leave the capital. As a foreigner, he had to hide to escape France’s exclusion laws. He went to Mirmande (Drôme) on the advice of Marcelle Rivier, a friend and another of André Lhote’s students. The two artists probably met in Paris shortly before France entered the war. At that time, Mirmande, a village in ruins, welcomed a few painters who lived there. But most of them came there to work alongside André Lhote during his summer academy. The village became a place of refuge for many Parisian artists of foreign origin, all of whom led a relatively peaceful life, free from military operations and repression, contending mostly with the difficulty of obtaining art supplies.

This ended abruptly when the Germans occupied the whole of Metropolitan France in November 1942. Until then, the French Demarcation line marked the boundary between the occupied part of France administered by the German Army in the northern and western part of France and the Zone libre in the south. The suppression of the Demarcation line marked by the invasion of the southern zone by the Germans put an end to the peaceful life the artists in Miramande had enjoyed. This caused the group gathered there to break up.

From then on, it was the French Resistance network that worked to protect the refugees of Mirmande, thus allowing many Jewish painters to flee. Marcelle Rivier, Fedor Löwenstein’s friend who had enticed him to move there, somewhat amusingly described her involvement in his evacuation in 1943 from Miramande: “That night I put on Lowenstein one of these vast peasant skirts that we wore then and by a night of full moon in this month of February 1943, we left for Cliousclat. . .With his skirt, Lowenstein had the air of a horse disguised and the ground left no other means than to take the traced road. There I entrusted him to Ména Loopuyt, a Dutch painter living in Cliousclat. Charles Caillet had gone by bicycle to the abbey of Aiguebelle to get along with the abbot and gave us an appointment at his house. The next day at midnight, Doctor Debanne disguised the Jews as wounded, and they were taken to Aiguebelle.”

As the exposition catalog goes on to describe, “They [the Jews] were in possession of false identity cards made by Maurice Caillet, the curator of the Valence Museum. In agreement with the bishopric and the superior of the community, the monks of the abbey of Aiguebelle in the Drôme welcomed refugees at the end of 1942 and sheltered Jews whom they employed in the various works of the abbey. Löwenstein decorated tiles without enthusiasm.”

In the fall of 1943, ill, Fedor went to Paris, under the pseudonym of Lauriston, to consult at the Curie Institute and at the Broussais Hospital in the south of Paris, where Dr. Paul Chevallier, a French pioneer in hematology, was practicing. However, his disease was not diagnosed, and he continued to deteriorate. Löwenstein would eventually return to his family in Nice, where he was hospitalized and would die on the 4^th of August 1946. It was determined he died of Hodgkins Lymphoma.

Fedor’s association with the “Groupe des Surindépendants” from 1936 onward resulted in him exhibiting regularly with them until the outbreak of WWII. The group even organized a personal exhibition for him in 1939. At some point in 1940 during his stay in Miramande, Fedor returned to Paris where he selected small format works as well as six watercolors that he brought to be shipped to New York City. There is little information about the circumstances surrounding this project, but the paintings were sent to a harbor warehouse in Bordeaux for shipment to an American gallery. Unfortunately, the crates never left Bordeaux but were instead “requisitioned” by German military authorities on the 5^th of December 1940, the date of a major seizure operation.

A special commando unit affiliated with the “Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg (ERR)” (Reichsleiter Rosenberg Taskforce) raided the warehouse where Fedor’s crates were stored, seized them, and had them shipped to Paris where they were stored at the “Jeu de Paume.” The ERR was a Nazi Party organization dedicated to appropriating cultural property during WWII and was led by the chief ideologue of the Nazi Party, Alfred Rosenberg, ergo its name. The Jeu de Paume was the seat of ERR’s processing of looted art objects confiscated from Jewish-owned collections.

Owing to the abstract cubist nature of Löwenstein’s works, the ERR staff at the Jeu de Paume deemed them as “degenerate” and consigned them to the store room for condemned art, the “Salles des Martyrs,” Martyrs’ Hall. They were marked for destruction, in German “vernichet.” In total, 25 paintings by Fedor were seized and brought to the Jeu de Paume to be disposed of for ideological reasons.

Almost seventy years after the Liberation of Paris in August 1944 three of the purportedly destroyed Löwenstein paintings resurfaced in French museum collections. French Ministry of Culture officials were able to match the resurrected paintings with information contained in the ERR database for three works labeled by the Germans as Löwenstein 4 (“Paysage” or Landscape), Löwenstein 15 (“Peupliers” or Poplars), and Löwenstein 19 (“Les Arbes” or The Trees). In the official catalogue of unclaimed works and objects of art known as “Musée Nationaux Récupération (MNR),” the works are assigned MNR numbers R26, R27, and R28. These three paintings correspond to Löwenstein’s works of art that were displayed at the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Bordeaux in 2014 for which I would later file a claim for restitution. As an aside, all three paintings were signed “Fedor Loevenstein.” I would later learn from a French reader of my Blog, who purchased several of his works at auction, that Löwenstein also signed some with his initials in reverse, “LF.”

In connection with researching and writing the catalog for the 2014 exhibit of Fedor Löwenstein’s three resurrected paintings, Florence Saragoza and her colleagues uncovered the notes of the curator at the Jeu de Paume, Rose Valland. Her notes from July 20, 1943, confirm the fate of artworks destined for destruction: “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 Dalí’s. The paintings in the Loewenstein, Esmont (sic), M[ichel]-G[eorges] Michel collections are almost all shredded. . .” On July 23^rd, 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. . . . The paintings that remained in the Louvre were classified by category. . .”. It appears that Löwenstein’s three works that escaped destruction had been classified by the Louvre as “paintings of lesser importance,” while the remaining works were likely stabbed, shredded and/or incinerated.

As a side note, since virtually all the images of Fedor Löwenstein’s paintings as well as the historic images of the Martyrs’ Hall at the Jeu de Paume are copyrighted, I refer readers to the hyperlinks to view photos.

As a mildly interesting aside, Florence Saragoza and her colleagues, using the notes left behind by Rose Valland, then curatorial attaché at the Jeu de Paume, were able to attribute most of the paintings exhibited there. They did this using a detailed digitization of the negatives, work by work, accompanied by anamorphosis. This was a new term to me and is defined as: “. . .a distorted projection requiring the viewer to occupy a specific vantage point, use special devices, or both to view a recognizable image. It is used in painting, photography, sculpture and installation, toys, and film special effects. The word is derived from the Greek prefix ana-, meaning ‘back’ or ‘again’, and the word morphe, meaning ‘shape’ or ‘form.’ Extreme anamorphosis has been used by artists to disguise caricatures, erotic and scatological scenes, and other furtive images from a casual spectator, while revealing an undistorted image to the knowledgeable viewer.” In the case of the historic photos on display in the Martyrs’ Hall, I take this to mean that since the paintings in the photos look somewhat distorted, some digital manipulation was required to identify and attribute the works of art.

As previously mentioned, Fedor Löwenstein’s 25 paintings were seized from État-major administratif du port, hangar H, Bordeaux, the “Port Administration Headquarters, Hanger H, Bordeaux.” They were seized at the same time as a set of Dali’s works were taken from another collector, which were described under the acronym “unbekannt,” “unknown.” This was intended to indicate that the history of the works had been lost during the various transfers from their seizure in Bordeaux to their shipment to Paris, the inventories being drawn up only belatedly by the historians of the ERR. Again quoting from the exhibition catalog, “But the fact that these collections were made anonymous was also part of the ideological policy of the Third Reich, which aimed at cultural appropriation, an affirmation of superiority inscribed in a historical connection and a rewriting of art history.” As in the case of Dali’s works, the provenance of the three orphan paintings by Löwenstein was lost and they were described as having been donated anonymously in 1973. Only in 2011 were they were reclassified as stolen works. This brings me to where things stood when I learned all the above.

Soon after connecting with Florence Saragoza, she asked me whether I wanted to file a claim with the Commission pour l’indemnisation des victimes de spoliations (CIVS) for the return of Fedor Löwenstein’s three orphan paintings, as well as payment of damages. CIVS is the commission established in 1999 under the French Prime Minister to implement the policy of the State regarding the reparation of the damages suffered by the Jews of France whose property was looted during the Occupation, because of the anti-Semitic measures taken by the German occupier or by the Vichy regime. This seemed like a logical next step. Given my intimate familiarity with my father and his first cousins’ family tree, I immediately realized that I am Fedor’s closest living relative. (Figure 18) That’s to say, because neither Fedor nor either of his two siblings had any children or surviving spouses, as a first cousin once removed, I am their closest surviving blood relative.

Figure 18. My father Dr. Otto Bruck (1907-1994) standing alongside his first cousin and the sister of Fedor Löwenstein, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, on the 2nd of March 1947 in Fayence, France, the town from where my aunt Susanne Müller-Bruck was deported to Auschwitz

With Mme. Saragoza’s gracious assistance, I filed a claim with CIVS in October 2014. CIVS acknowledged receipt of my claim in November 2014, assigning it a case number, “Requête 24005 BROOK,” noting that considering the numerous claims pending before their office and the multiple archives and offices that would need to be consulted, it could take some time to render a decision. In fact, it took more than 6 ½ years.

In June 2015, my wife and I met with the staff at the CIVS in Paris (Figure 19) to discuss my claim, whereupon I provided them with a written account of the chronology detailed above and my ancestral connection to Fedor Löwenstein. In February 2017, I was eventually contacted by a genealogist contracted by CIVS to investigate my claim. I shared an updated written account of what I had sent to CIVS in 2015, and included an extensive array of historic documents, photos, and exhibits, along with a detailed family tree. In essence, I did the genealogist’s work for him.

Figure 19. In June 2015, meeting in Paris with Mme. Muriel De Bastier and Mlle. Eleonore Claret from CIVS, the Premier Ministre’s office handling my restitution claim

Between February 2017 and June 2021, when CIVS rendered their written decision, I was never contacted by the Premier Ministre’s office. The decision letter from the Premier Ministre along with the attached report by Le Rapporteur Generale arrived on the 17^th of June 2021. It included much of the same information discussed above. The final decision is that my claim was rejected.

Beyond the disappointment and anger I feel about this determination, I was curious about the merits and legal basis of this ruling. Inasmuch as I can ascertain, it appears that because France is governed by principles of civil law rather than common law, my rights have been supplanted. Civil law has its features compiled and codified into a collection for ready reference. It is inspired by the Roman law. Common law, on the other hand, has its rules and regulations administered by judges and vary on a case-to-case basis. Civil law was framed in France. Common law was started in England. Common law varies from case to case depending upon the customs of the society whereas civil law has a predefined written set of statutes and codes for reference. Judgment in common law varies whereas in civil law, the judges must strictly follow the codification written in the book.

In the case of my claim for restitution, CIVS concluded there are what are called “universal legatees,” an element of civil law, whose claim to Löwenstein’s property and damages supersede my own. France considers property left in a will a “universal legacy,” so the person who inherits the rights, obligations, possession, and debts of an ancestor’s title in property through a testamentary disposition is called a “universal legatee.”

These universal legatees in the case of Fedor Löwenstein’s estate are descendants of individuals, merely friends, who inherited from his brother and sister. They and their descendants were not and are not related by blood to Fedor Löwenstein, as I am. Were it not for my efforts to uncover information about Fedor’s orphaned works and file a claim for repatriation and damages, these individuals would have no knowledge of their existence. Furthermore, had it not been for my own extensive genealogical research into Fedor Löwenstein’s spoliated works and ancestry, the CIVS genealogist contracted to undertake the forensic investigation into my claim likely would not have uncovered all the information I provided in 2017. Notwithstanding the stated wishes of CIVS and the Musée National d’Art Moderne housed in the Centre Pompidou in Paris to restore Fedor Löwenstein’s to his family, this is emphatically not happening.

Figure 20. My father Dr. Otto Bruck standing on la Promenade des Anglais in Nice, France in 1946

In retrospect, I would say I should not be surprised by this outcome. France has a long-standing tradition of having wronged my family going back to when the French were complicit in helping the Germans deport my aunt Susanne Müller née Bruck in August 1942, from Fayence, France to Auschwitz, where she was ultimately murdered. Then, following the war, in 1948, they arrested my father, Dr. Otto Bruck (Figure 20), in Nice, France for allegedly practicing dentistry illegally, simply for managing the practice of a dentist who had no interest in her business. My father was arrested only because he was “apatride,” stateless. Rather than offer French citizenry to a man who spoke fluent French and who offered a service much-in-need following WWII, they detained and intended to prosecute him had he not decamped for America. And this although my father served France nobly and honorably for five years during the war as a soldier in the French Foreign Legion. Arguably, France may have met its legal obligation with its decision regarding my claim, but they most assuredly have not fulfilled their moral obligation by handing over my ancestor’s paintings and awarding damages to so-called “universal legatees.” Family of Fedor Löwenstein they are decidedly NOT!!

REFERENCE

Fédor Löwenstein (1901-1946) trois œuvres martyres. 16 May-24 Aug. 2014. Musée des Beaux-Arts de Bordeaux, Bordeaux.

VITAL STATISTICS OF WILHELM FÉDOR LÖWENSTEIN & HIS IMMEDIATE FAMILY

NAME	EVENT	DATE	PLACE	SOURCE

Wilhelm Fédor Löwenstein (self)	Birth	13 April 1901	Munich, Germany	Munich Birth Certificate
	Death	4 August 1946	Nice, France	Nice Death Certificate
Rudolf Löwenstein (father)	Birth	17 January 1872	Kuttenplan, Czechoslovakia [today: Chodová Planá, Czech Republic]	Kuttenplan, Czechoslovakia Birth Register Listing
	Marriage (to Hedwig Bruck)	17 September 1899	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]	LDS Family History Center Microfilm Roll 1184449 (Ratibor)
	Death	22 August 1930	Iglau, Czechoslovakia [today: Jihlava, Czech Republic]	LDS Family History Center Microfilm Roll 1184408 (Danzig)
Hedwig Löwenstein Bruck (mother)	Birth	22 March 1870	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]	LDS Family History Center Microfilm Roll 1184449 (Ratibor)
	Marriage (to Rudolf Löwenstein)	17 September 1899	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]	Ratibor Marriage Certificate
	Death	15 January 1949	Nice, France	Nice Death Certificate
Elsbeth Bruck (aunt)	Birth	17 November 1874	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland	German Democratic Republic Passport
	Death	20 February 1970	East Berlin, German Democratic Republic
Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein (sister)	Birth	9 September 1902	Danzig, Free State [today: Gdansk, Poland]	Danzig Birth Certificate
	Marriage (to Georges Goff)	UNKNOWN
	Death	5 May 1986	Nice, France	Nice Death Certificate
Heinz Löwenstein (brother) (died as “Hanoch Avneri”)	Birth	8 March 1905	Danzig, Free State [today: Gdansk, Poland]	LDS Family History Center Microfilm Roll 1184407 (Danzig)
	Marriage (to Rose Bloch)	22 October 1931	Danzig, Free State [today: Gdansk, Poland]	Danzig Marriage Certificate
	Death	10 August 1979	Haifa, Israel	Haifa Burial Certificate
Otto Bruck (first cousin) (died as Gary Otto Brook)	Birth	16 April 1907	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]	Ratibor Birth Certificate
	Marriage	22 October 1949	Manhattan, New York
	Death	14 September 1994	Queens, New York	New York City Death Certificate
Richard Alan Brook (first cousin once removed)	Birth	27 December 1950	Manhattan, New York

POST 15, POSTSCRIPT: BERLIN-FRANZISKA & ELSBETH BRUCK: “ARTIFACTS” FROM FRANZISKA’S BLUMENSCHULE (FLOWER SCHOOL)

Note: I continue with a series of postscripts to earlier Blog posts to catch readers up on findings I’ve made since publishing the original stories. In this brief postscript, I discuss rare “artifacts” from my renowned great-aunt Franziska Bruck’s blumenschule, flower school, in Berlin which readers have generously sent me.

Post 21: My Aunt Susanne, Née Bruck, & Her Husband Dr. Franz Müller, The Fiesole Years

My great-aunt Franziska Bruck (Figure 1), the renowned Berlin florist (Figure 2), killed herself on the 2^nd of January 1942 in Berlin-Charlottenburg, probably a few days before she was ordered to report for deportation. Likely not having access to Veronal and Scopolamin-Entodal, the most commonly used poisons of the time, she gruesomely ended her life by hanging. By committing suicide, Franziska wanted to avoid the fate of her Jewish neighbors, others of whom were soon deported.

Figure 2. Franziska Bruck in her “Schule für Blumenschmuck”

In April 2019, I was contacted through my Blog by a Ms. Karin Sievert of the “Stolpersteininitiative Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf,” requesting information on my great-aunt Franziska and her siblings (see table at the bottom of this post for vital statistics on my great-aunt and her immediate family). To remind readers, the Stolpersteine project, initiated in 1992 by the German artist Gunter Demnig, commemorates people who were persecuted by the Nazis between 1933 and 1945 (e.g., Jews, Sinti, Roma, political and religious dissidents, victims of “euthanasia,” homosexuals, Jehovah Witnesses, etc.). Stolpersteine, or “stumbling stones,” are concrete blocks measuring 10x10cm (i.e., 3.9 in x 3.9 in) which are laid into the pavement in front of the last voluntarily chosen places of residence of the victims of the Nazis. Their names and fate are engraved into a brass plate on the top of each Stolperstein.

Figure 3. Prinzregentenstraße 75 in Berlin’s Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf borough, Franziska Bruck’s last voluntarily chosen place of residence

Like many unmarried women of the time, Franziska Bruck sublet an apartment located at Prinzregentenstraße 75 in Wilmersdorf. (Figure 3) By virtue of a Nazi law from 1939 voiding tenant protections for Jews, she’d already been forced to move from there to Waitzstraße 9. (Figure 4–“Arolsen Archives–International Center on Nazi Persercution“) This law stipulated that apartment leases could be terminated without notice and Jews had to find a new place to live within days or were quartered with other similarly displaced Jews. In the case of my great-aunt Franziska, in 2011, the Berlin Stumbling Stone Initiative Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf installed a stone in front of her last home at Prinzregentenstrasse 75. (Figure 5)

Figure 4. Page from the “Arolsen Archives-International Center on Nazi Persecution” on my great-aunt Franziska Bruck showing she lived at Waitzstraße 9 and died on the 2nd of January 1942

Figure 5. Franziska Bruck’s “stolperstein,” located in front of Prinzregentenstraße 75 in Berlin, recognizing her as a victim of Nazi persecution

Ms. Sievert learned of my family history blog from one of her colleagues and requested my assistance in compiling a brief biography of my great-aunt. I was most happy to assist and provide family photographs. Readers can remind themselves by referring to the original post that I included a photo taken in Franziska’s flower shop showing the last Crown Princess of Germany and Prussia, Princess Cecilie, touring her Blumenschule, flower school. (Figure 6) Supplementing information I provided, Karin did her own research and purchased a postcard from a dealer of the same visit taken at a slightly different angle. (Figure 7) In addition, Karin also found an original advertisement for Franziska’s “Schule für Blumenschmuck,” taken from a “Daheim-Kalendar 1915,” home calendar from 1915. (Figures 8-9) As Franziska’s descendant and namesake, Karin graciously and generously gave me both rare family artifacts. I was enormously touched by this kind gesture.

Figure 6. Last Crown Princess of Germany & Prussia, Princess Cecilie, visiting Franziska Bruck’s “Schule für Blumenschmuck”

Figure 7. Postcard of the last Crown Princess of Germany & Prussia, Princess Cecilie, visiting my great-aunt’s flower shop

Figure 8. An original advertisement for Franziska’s “Schule für Blumenschmuck,” taken from a “Daheim-Kalendar 1915,” home calendar from 1915, given to by Ms. Karin Sievert of the “Stolpersteininitiative Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf”

Figure 9. Cover of the “Daheim-Kalendar 1915” containing the original advertisement for Franziska’s “Schule für Blumenschmuck”

Figure 10. My and my wife’s Italian friend, Giuditta Melli, a professional potter, who created a replica of a floral vase like ones used by my great-aunt Franziska for her Ikebana-inspired floral arrangements

I would be remiss in not acknowledging another magnanimous deed done by an Italian lady my wife Ann and I befriended at a bus stop in Florence, Italy, in 2014. Like me, our friend, Giuditta Melli (Figure 10), is of Jewish ancestry, and her great-uncle was murdered by the Italian Fascists during WWII in Florence. Giuditta is aware of my great-aunt’s books on flower binding and gardening (Figures 11-12), as well as her floral art featured in important art magazines of the time. (Figure 13) Franziska’s floral work was patterned on Ikebana, the Japanese art of floral arrangement. Giuditta, a potter by profession, created and sent me a replica of a Japanese vase like ones featured in my great-aunt’s floral creations. (Figure 14) This was another enormously kindhearted act that reminds me that while Franziska died under tragic circumstances, her memory and work live on. (Figure 15)

Figure 11. Cover of Franziska Bruck’s 1925 book “Blumen und Ranken,” translated as “flowers and vines”

Figure 12. Cover of Franziska Bruck’s 1926 book “Blumenschmuck,” translated as “flowers”

Figure 13. Cover of February 17, 1915 “Die Bindekunst” periodical with article on Franziska’s floral arrangements

Figure 14. The Ikebana-inspired vase created and given to me by Giuditta Melli

FRANZISKA BRUCK & HER IMMEDIATE FAMILY

Name (relationship)	Vital Event	Date	Place

Franziska Bruck (self)	Birth	29 December 1866	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
Franziska Bruck (self)	Death	2 January 1942	Berlin, Germany
Fedor Bruck (father)	Birth	8 October 1834	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Marriage	7 July 1862	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Death	2 October 1892	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
Friederike Mockrauer (mother)	Birth	15 June 1836	Leschnitz, Germany (Leśnica, Poland)
	Marriage	7 July 1862	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Death	29 February 1924	Berlin, Germany
Felix Bruck (brother)	Birth	28 March 1864	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Marriage	11 February 1894	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Death	23 June 1927	Berlin, Germany
Charlotte Bruck (sister)	Birth	8 December 1865	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Marriage	18 March 1888	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Death	10 January 1965	Stockholm, Sweden
Elise Bruck (sister)	Birth	20 August 1868	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
Elise Bruck (sister)	Death	19 June 1872	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
Hedwig Bruck (sister)	Birth	22 March 1870	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Marriage	17 September 1899	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Death	15 January 1949	Nice, France
Robert Bruck (brother)	Birth	1 September 1871	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
Robert Bruck (brother)	Death	30 December 1887	Braunschweig, Germany
Wilhelm Bruck (brother)	Birth	24 October 1872	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
	Marriage	2 April 1904	Hamburg, Germany
	Death	29 April 1952	Barcelona, Spain
Elisabeth “Elsbeth” Bruck (sister)	Birth	17 November 1874	Ratibor, Germany (Racibórz, Poland)
Elisabeth “Elsbeth” Bruck (sister)	Death	20 February 1970	Berlin, Germany

Figure 15. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck’s grave in the Weissensee Jewish Cemetery in East Berlin

POST 49: GUIDE TO THE “LANDESARCHIV BERLIN” (BERLIN STATE ARCHIVE) CIVIL REGISTRY RECORDS

Note: In this Blog post, I provide a brief guide on searching the on-line registry of vital records and statistics at the “Landesarchiv Berlin,” the Berlin State Archive. This may be of interest to the small percentage of readers whose forebears are German and may once have lived in Berlin.

Civil registration is the system by which a government records the vital events (births, marriages and deaths) of its citizens and residents. The resulting repository or database has different names in different countries and even in different states in America (e.g., civil registry, civil register, vital records, bureau of vital statistics, registrar, registry, register, registry office, population register). In Berlin, the records of births, marriages and deaths are stored at the “Landesarchiv Berlin,” the Berlin State Archive, and can be accessed on-line, specifically, in registers of births between roughly 1874 and 1907; in registers of marriages from about 1874 to 1935; and in registers of deaths from around 1874 to 1987.

It is quite challenging to use this on-line database, so in this Blog post I will share a few hints with interested readers on possibly finding their ancestors’ names. I need to alert readers that finding your ancestors in a registry does not immediately give you access to the underlying historic document; this entails sending an email to the Landesarchiv, and, at present, waiting up to four months to have the historic certificate mailed to you. If you do all the research yourself, identifying the specific register, Berlin borough (see below), and document number, the Landesarchiv typically does not charge you for their services and copies of records.

At the end, for those who enjoy working through puzzles, using my own grandfather Felix Bruck, I will challenge readers to find the specific register in which his death was recorded. In a week, I will tell and walk readers through the steps that I went through to find his name. No doubt readers will be considerably more adept and quicker than I was at finding the proper register.

Before introducing readers to the civil registration database, let me provide some brief historic context. According to the Landesarchiv’s website, the establishment of the archive in the modern sense of the term is 1808. During WWII the collections of the archives were dispersed, to avoid destruction; following the war, during the 1950’s and 1960’s, the surviving collections were reunited. In 1991 the Landesarchiv merged with Stadtarchiv in Berlin; the latter was the municipal archive and the place where the civil registration records were stored until the merger. In 2000, the Landesarchiv also integrated collections from the “Archivabeitlung der Landesbildstelle” and the “Archiv der Internationalen Bauausstellung,” including audio-visual archives.

The portal to access the civil registration records on file at the Landesarchiv Berlin can be found at the following URL:

http://www.content.landesarchiv-berlin.de/labsa/show/index.php

I can no longer recall how I became aware of this database, but given my family’s deep-seated connections to Berlin, it was only a matter of time before I would eventually learn of its existence. Figure 1a is a screen-shot of the portal page, very simple in its presentation; Figure 1b is the same portal page translated, although the database cannot be queried from here (i.e., queries must be done from the German-language page). There are three categories of records that can be searched in combination or individually (i.e., you can check one, two or all three boxes) for any area of Berlin: Sterberegister (Death Records); Heiratsregister (Marriage Register); and Geburtenregister (Birth Registers).

Figure 1a. “Landesarchiv Berlin Standesamtsabfrage” portal page (German)

Figure 1b. “Landesarchiv Berlin Standesamtsabfrage” portal page (English translation)

Figure 2. Map of Berlin’s 12 existing Boroughs and the neighborhoods in each

One of the keys to searching the civil registration records for Berlin is understanding Berlin’s system of boroughs. The German capital Berlin is divided into 12 boroughs (German: Stadtteile/Bezirke), that have political rights like a town but are not legally cities. (Figure 2) On January 1, 2001, Berlin instituted a reform of its boroughs reducing their number from 23 to 12 to cut down on administrative costs. Below is a table showing the old and new borough names, an understanding of which is critical to querying the civil registration records:

NUMBER	NEW BOROUGH NAME	OLD BOROUGH NAMES
I	Mitte	Mitte, Tiergarten, Wedding
II	Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg	Friedrichshain, Kreuzberg
III	Pankow	Prenzlauer Berg, Weißensee, Pankow
IV	Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf	Charlottenburg, Wilmersdorf
V	Spandau	Spandau (unchanged)
VI	Steglitz-Zehlendorf	Steglitz, Zehlendorf
VII	Tempelhof-Schöenberg	Tempelhof, Schöenberg
VIII	Neukölln	Neukölln (unchanged)
IX	Treptow-Köpenick	Treptow, Köpenick
X	Marzahn-Hellersdorf	Marzahn, Hellersdorf
XI	Lichtenberg	Lichtenberg, Hohenschönhausen
XII	Reinickendorf	Reinickendorf (unchanged)

Each borough is made up of several officially recognized subdistricts or neighborhoods (Ortsteile in German), that can be distinguished in Figure 2. These neighborhoods typically have a historical identity as former independent cities, villages or rural municipalities that were united in 1920 as part of the “Greater Berlin Act,” which established the current configuration of Berlin; when first established in 1920, Berlin was organized into 20 boroughs, most often named after the largest component neighborhood, often a former city or municipality, sometimes named for geographic features (e.g., Kreuzberg, Prenzlauer Berg). Today, Berlin is both a city and one of the 16 states of Germany and is referred to as a city-state (Stadtstaat in German).

On the portal page, in the box labelled “Standesamt,” one must enter the name of the borough one is seeking birth, marriage or death records from. One begins by typing the first few letters of a borough, for example “Ch” for Charlottenburg, and, often, multiple listings for that borough will come up (e.g., Charlottenburg: Standesamt Charlottenburg; Standesamt Charlottenburg I; Standesamt Charlottenburg II; Standesamt Charlottenburg III; Standesamt Charlottenburg IV, etc.); select one, then select death, marriage, and/or death records you wish to see for that borough, then do a “Suchen” (i.e., search). A new page with the list of registers available for that borough or municipality will appear (e.g., Standesamt Charlottenburg IV) (Figure 3). Scrutinize the list until you find the register covering the year(s) you’re seeking; some years may have more than one register for them, while other registers may cover multiple years.

Figure 3. Portal page for “Standesamt Charlottenburg IV (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister)” listing three death registers

A brief aside about “Standesamt” (German plural: Standesämter); this is a German civil registration office, which is responsible for recording births, marriages, and deaths. Readers will recall my mentioning above that in 1991, the Landesarchiv merged with the Stadtarchiv in Berlin, the latter being where the civil registration records were kept until that time. Soon after the German Empire was created in 1871 from the previous collection of German states (kingdoms, duchies, etc.), a universal system of Standesämter, register offices, was established, taking effect on January 1, 1876. The system had previously been introduced in Prussia on October 1, 1874, so it is no accident that the civil registration records at the Landesarchiv begin in this year. Today, those register offices (Standesämter) are still part of the administration of every German municipality (in small communities, they are often incorporated with other offices of the administration). Since 1876, Germans can only enter a legal marriage in a Standesamt, and every marriage takes place before the local registrar (called Standesbeamter); similarly, every birth must be registered at a register office, as must every death.

I’ve gone into detail about the history on the establishment of Berlin following the Great Berlin Act of 1920, and the organization of the civil register offices, because it partially informs us of the extent of the historic documents they contain as well as the tedious steps that must be followed when querying the civil registration database.

In the time I’ve used the Landesarchiv Berlin database, I’ve only ever found seven documents I was researching. Virtually all my Jewish relatives lived in the well-heeled borough of Charlottenburg, so I ALWAYS begin my searches here, as I would suggest readers looking for their Jewish ancestors also do. Remember that today, the borough including Charlottenburg is named Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf, so the civil registers for “Wilmersdorf” should also be examined.

Regrettably, the empty box entitled “Standesamt” that you must complete does not provide a complete pull-down menu of all Berlin boroughs or neighborhoods when you start typing so I have no idea how many different boroughs, municipalities, and places are to be found in the civil register, likely dozens if not hundreds.

Figure 4. My uncle and aunt Dr. Franz Müller and Susanne Müller in Fiesole, Italy, 1938

Figure 5. Dr. Franz Müller & Susanne Bruck’s Marriage Certificate I (“Bescheinigung der Eheschließung” Nr. 263) showing they got married on 18th April 1931

Figure 6. Dr. Franz Müller & Susanne Bruck’s Marriage Certificate II (“Heiratsurkunde” Nr. 263) showing they got married on 18th April 1931

The first time I used the Landesarchiv database, I was searching for the register listing of my Aunt Susanne Bruck’s marriage to her husband, Dr. Franz Müller. (Figure 4) Because I have the original marriage certificate in my possession, two different ones, I knew they’d gotten married on April 18, 1931 in Berlin-Charlottenburg. (Figures 5-6) Obviously, I began searching the registers that cover this borough, and eventually found their marriage listed in “Standesamt-Charlottenburg III No. 605 (Namensverzeichnis Heiratregister 1924-1933) (name register to the marriage index 1924-1933).” (Figures 7a-b) If readers look carefully at the seal in the lower left corner of the two marriage certificates, you can see where it is stamped “Charlottenburg III.” The “Registernummer 263/1931” in the upper left-hand corner matches the number associated with my aunt and uncle’s names on the register page, so I knew I had located the correct certificate. Even though I have two marriage certificates for my aunt and uncle, I still requested a copy of the official document from the Landesarchiv, and much to my surprise it was different and included two pages, the second of which listed witnesses. (Figures 8a-b) For this reason, even if readers have originals of vital documents for your ancestors, I still recommend you request copies of any documents you may find in the Landesarchiv database; you never know what surprises may await you.

Figure 7a. Cover of Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg III Nr. 605 (Namensverzeichnis Heiratsregister 1924-1933),” where my aunt and uncle’s 1931 marriage was recorded

Figure 7b. My uncle and aunt’s surnames, “Müller” and “Bruck,” recorded in Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg III Nr. 605 (Namensverzeichnis Heiratsregister 1924-1933),” listing their marriage certificate number as 263

Figure 8a. Dr. Franz Müller & Susanne Bruck’s Marriage Certificate page 1, certificate number 263

Figure 8b. Dr. Franz Müller & Susanne Bruck’s Marriage Certificate page 2, certificate number 263, with the names of witnesses

Figure 9. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck (1866-1942)

The next person I researched in the Landesarchiv database was my great-aunt Franziska Bruck (Figure 9), who I knew had committed suicide on January 2, 1942; she too had lived and died in Charlottenburg, and I found her name listed in “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 713 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942) (name register to the death index 1942).” (Figures 10a-b) I similarly requested a copy of my great-aunt’s death certificate and learned she had gruesomely committed suicide by hanging herself (Figure 11); obtaining poison to kill oneself may have been easier for Jews who were once in the medical profession, such as Dr. Ernst Neisser discussed in Post 48, unlike my great-aunt who was a renowned florist.

Figure 10a. Cover of Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 713 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942),” with my great-aunt Franziska Bruck’s death recorded in January 1942

Figure 10b. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck’s name circled in the Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 713 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942),” listing her death certificate number as 81

Figure 11. My great-aunt Franziska “Sara” Bruck’s death certificate, “Nr. 81,” stating she committed suicide by hanging herself on the 2nd of January 1942

Figure 12. Dr. Ernst Neisser with his future wife Margarethe Pauly ca. 1895 in Posen, Germany

I’ve recently returned my attention to the Landesarchiv database in connection with writing Post 48 dealing with Dr. Ernst Neisser, who was the husband of my first cousin twice-removed, Margarethe Neisser née Pauly. (Figure 12) To quickly review. According to Susanne Vogel née Neisser, Ernst and Margarethe Neisser’s daughter, Margarethe was institutionalized for the last three years of her life and committed suicide on October 12, 1941. Ernst lived with his first cousin Luise Neisser in Charlottenburg, and the two of them committed suicide the following year after they were ordered to present themselves for deportation to Theresienstadt. In the previous Blog post, I told readers both took poison on October 1, 1942; Luise died that day, but Ernst lingered for four days and succumbed on October 4, 1942.

I was able to locate in the Landesarchiv registers, the death listings for both Margarethe “Sara” Neisser and Luise “Sara” Neisser but, interestingly, for the longest time not for Dr. Ernst Neisser. Margarethe, I found listed in “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 712 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1941)” (Figures 13a-b) and Luise in “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 713 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942).” (Figures 14a-b) I’ve requested both of their death certificates from the Landesarchiv, and await their arrival.

Figure 13a. Cover of Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 712 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1941),” with Margarethe “Sara” Neisser née Pauly’s death recorded in October 1941

Figure 13b. Margarethe “Sara” Neisser née Pauly’s name circled in the Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 712 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1941),” listing her death in October and the death certificate number as 3159

Figure 14a. Cover of Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 713 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942),” with Luise “Sara” Neisser’s death recorded in October 1942

Figure 14b. Luise “Sara” Neisser’s name circled in Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 713 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942),” listing her death in October and the death certificate number as 4325

Finding Dr. Ernst Neisser’s listing in the Landesarchiv involved some serious forensic work and one I worked out literally as I was writing this post. I knew that Dr. Ernst Neisser lived with his first cousin Luise Neisser in Eichenallee in Charlottenburg; as mentioned above, both Ernst and Luise tried to commit suicide on October 1, 1942, and while Luise succeeded, Ernst lingered until October 4^th. Even though they died four days apart, I assumed both their deaths had been registered in Charlottenburg where they lived, but I was unable to find Ernst’s death recorded in any registers for Charlottenburg nor Wilmersdorf.

According to his daughter’s written account of his final days, Ernst died at the Jüdische Krankenhaus Berlin, the Berlin Jewish Hospital, where he’d been taken following his attempted suicide. It occurred to me that Ernst may have had his death registered in the borough where the Jewish Hospital is located; I researched this and discovered the Jüdische Krankenhaus Berlin, which still exists today, is in the borough “Mitte.” To remind readers what I illustrated in the table above, today’s borough Mitte once consisted of three independent boroughs, Mitte, Tiergarten, and Wedding; the registers for “Mitte” and “Tiergarten” yielded nothing, but finally in the last possible register where I thought his name might be listed, in the borough “Wedding,” under October 1942, I found the name “Neißer, Richard Ernst Israel.” (Figures 15a-b) Success at last!

Figure 15a. Cover of Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Wedding Nr. 5 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942),” with Richard Ernst “Israel” Neißer’s death recorded in October 1942

Figure 15b. Richard Ernst “Israel” Neißer’s name circled in Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Wedding Nr. 5 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942),” listing his death in October and the death certificate number illegible

Figure 16. Page from Susanne Vogel’s letter to her cousin, Lieselotte Dieckmann, showing she got married to Hans Vogel on the 31st July 1926 in Berlin

In order to successfully navigate the Landesarchiv database, it is helpful to have at least the month and year when a vital event in an ancestor’s life may have taken place. Ernst and Margarethe Neisser’s daughter, Susanne Vogel née Neisser, noted the place and date of her own marriage to Hans Vogel in the preface to the memoir she wrote about her father’s final days; it took place on the 31^st of July 1926 in Berlin. (Figure 16) Assuming, as I always do, the wedding took place in Charlottenburg, I successfully located the spouse and bride’s names in the “Standesamt-Charlottenburg I Nr. 467 (Namensverzeichnis Heiratregister 1921-1927).” (Figures 17a-b)

Figure 17a. Cover of Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg I Nr. 467 (Namensverzeichnis Heiratsregister 1921-1927),” listing the surnames Vogel and Neißer and their marriage certificate as number 503

Figure 17b. The surnames “Vogel” and “Neißer” recorded in Landesarchiv Berlin civil register book, “Standesamt-Charlottenburg I Nr. 467 (Namensverzeichnis Heiratsregister 1921-1927),” listing their marriage certificate number as 503

Figure 18. Envelope containing letter mailed to my great-aunt Elsbeth Bruck showing she resided at Prenzlauer Allee 113, which was in the “Pankow” borough of Berlin

Figure 19. My great-aunt Elsbeth Bruck photographed in Berlin on 15th of March 1967; she died on the 20th of February 1970, but I could not find a record of her death in the Landesarchiv Berlin

There is one other great-aunt whose Berlin residence (i.e., “Prenzlauer Allee 113” in the neighborhood of “Prenzlauer Berg” in the Berlin borough of “Pankow”) (Figure 18) and date of death are known to me (i.e., 20^th of February 1970), my renowned Socialist ancestor, Elsbeth Bruck (Figure 19); she died in East Berlin well before the fall of the German Democratic Republic in 1990. Still, despite having very specific information for her, to date, I’ve not been able to locate her name in a Landesarchiv register. I assume East Germans were equally meticulous about recording vital statistics, so I conclude I’ve just not worked out the correct parameters as to where she died. It’s possible that, like Dr. Neisser, she died in a hospital in a different borough of East Berlin and that her death was registered in that borough. I simply don’t know.

So, to let me briefly recap some suggestions when searching through the Landesarchiv database. If you think you might have an ancestor or know of someone who was born in Berlin sometime after 1874 (but before 1905), got married there before 1935, and/or died there before 1987, it helps if you can narrow down at least one vital event to a specific year or actual date. Next, if you have any idea where your relative or acquaintance lived in Berlin, this may help you determine the borough where they resided. You may know the actual address where they lived without knowing which modern or historic Berlin neighborhood or borough the street was located, so Google the address and try and narrow it down to a borough; be aware that in Berlin there are multiple streets with the same name (e.g., Kastanienallee (=Chestnut Street)). You may be able to locate where your relative or acquaintance lived by using old Berlin Address Books available through ancestry.com. If you think you’ve finally identified the borough, you can begin your search in the Landesarchiv. As I’ve illustrated through example, Berlin boroughs must be searched by their modern names, as well as by the historic municipalities or neighborhoods that comprised that borough.

I’d be very interested in hearing from any of you who are successful in finding the names of any ancestors or acquaintances in the on-line Berlin State Archive database and obtaining copies of historic documents. Active genealogists know how valuable original vital records can be in establishing precise dates for these events and possibly uncovering another generation of ancestors.

“The Challenge”

Figure 20. My grandfather Felix Bruck, who died on the 23rd of June 1927 in Berlin, whose Landesarchiv death register listing readers are “challenged” to find

Many readers will not have any relatives nor know of anyone who had any association with Berlin yet be interested in “testing” their skills using the Landesarchiv database to find an actual person connected to the city. For such “puzzle-masters,” I’ve created a challenge to find my grandfather Felix Bruck (Figure 20) in a Berlin register. Figure 21 is a scan of his death certificate (the archaic German word “Todesschein” is used, but the modern German term is “Totenschein”).

Figure 21. My grandfather Felix Bruck’s death certificate, archaically entitled “Todesschein” (the modern term is “Totenschein”)

Below is a summary of the information on the Todesschein:

Death Register Nr. 971 of the year 1927

First name and surname: Felix Bruck

Husband of Else née Berliner from Berlin-Wilmersdorf at Düsseldorfer Straße 24

Profession: pensioner, 63 years old, born in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland]

Died on the 23^rd of June 1927 in Berlin IX

Recorded Berlin on 22^nd of July 1927

The Registrar.

All the information readers need to know to locate my grandfather’s name in a Berlin civil register can easily be read on the scan. Good luck!

POST 44: A TROVE OF FAMILY HISTORY FROM THE “PINKUS COLLECTION” AT THE LEO BAECK INSTITUTE

Note: In this Blog post, I discuss how I inadvertently uncovered vital records information for several people in my family tree and talk about leaving open the possibility of discovering evidence of ancestors whose traces appear negligible.

Post 40: Elisabeth “Lisa” Pauly née Krüger, One of Germany’s Silent Heroes

In the prologue to my family history blog, which I initiated in April 2017, I conceded there are some ancestral searches which are bound to end up unresolved during my lifetime. While I never actually close the book on these forensic investigations, I place them on a back-burner in the unlikely event I discover something new or make a new connection. This Blog post delves into one recent find that opened the door to learning more about several close ancestors whom I’d essentially given up hope of unearthing anything new.

Given my single-minded focus over the last two years on writing stories for my family history blog, I’ve woefully neglected updating my family tree which resides on ancestry.com. An opportunity recently presented itself to piggy-back on a friend’s membership to ancestry and review the hundreds of “leaves” associated with the roughly 500+ people in my tree. Typically, at the top of the list of ancestry clues are links to other family trees that may include the same people as found in one’s own tree. While I systematically review these member trees, I only “import” new ancestral information if source documents are attached to the member trees and I can confirm the reliability of the details; I may occasionally make exceptions if trees or tree managers have been trusted sources of information in the past, and/or I otherwise can confirm the origins of the data. Over the years I’ve seen multiple trees replicate the same erroneous information, and this is a path I choose to avoid.

The family ancestral information I happened upon came from a family tree I discussed in Blog Post 39, entitled “Schlesische Jüdische Familien,” “Silesian Jewish Families.” Regular readers may recall this tree has an astronomical 52,000+ names in it, so it should come as no surprise that it is often the source of overlapping or new information for individuals found in my own modest-sized tree. That said, I still apply the same rigorous principles in assessing the information found in this larger tree. I rarely take anything at face-value when it comes to vital records (e.g., births, baptisms, marriages, deaths) given the multiple reasons, often inadvertent or negligent, why data may be incorrect or divergent (e.g., illegible or unintelligible writing on source documents; transcription errors). With these caveats in mind, however, I came across some vital record information on the Silesian Families tree that seemed credible given the specificity of birth and death dates for a few individuals in my tree. The information related to my great-great-uncle Josef Mockrauer’s first wife, Esther Ernestine Lißner, and their son, Gerhard Mockrauer; while I’d previously found Gerhard’s birth certificate mentioning his parents, I had never found precise birth and death dates for Ernestine or Gerhard, so this was particularly intriguing.

Having previously established contact with the manager of the “Schlesische Jüdische Familien” family tree, a very helpful German lady by the name of Ms. Elke Kehrmann, I again reached out to her. I acknowledged that remembering the source of data for 52,000+ people is unrealistic but thought I should still ask. Initially, Ms. Kehrmann could only recall the information came from a manuscript prepared by an American Holocaust survivor who’d wanted to memorialize his lineage; with numerous computer upgrades over the years, Elke expressed the likelihood the document was digitally irretrievable. Disappointed, but not surprised, I was prepared to accept the vital records information at face-value.

Figure 1. Screen shot of the “Pinkus Family Collection 1500s-1994, (bulk 1725-1994),” archived at the Leo Baeck Institute—New York/Berlin (LBI), highlighting Series VII where my family’s ancestral materials were found

Then, much to my delight, a day later Elke told me she’d located the source document from a larger collection entitled the “Pinkus Family Collection 1500s-1994, (bulk 1725-1994).” (Figure 1) It was too large to email, but she opined I might be able to locate it on the Internet, and, sure enough, I immediately learned the collection is archived at The Leo Baeck Institute—New York/Berlin (LBI) and can be downloaded for free. For readers unfamiliar with this institute, according to their website, “LBI is devoted to the history of German-speaking Jews. Its 80,000-volume library and extensive archival and art collections represent the most significant repository of primary source material and scholarship on the Jewish communities of Central Europe over the past five centuries.”

The Pinkus Family Collection is enormous. From the “Biographical Note” to the collection, I learned the Pinkus family were textile manufacturers. Their factory, located in Neustadt, Upper Silesia [today: Prudnik, Poland], was one of the largest producers of fine linens in the world. Joseph Pinkus became a partner in the firm S. Fränkel when he married Auguste Fränkel, the daughter of the owner. Their son Max Pinkus (1857-1934) was director until 1926. Subsequently, Max Pinkus’s son Hans Pinkus (1891-1977) managed the family company from 1926-1938 until he was forced out after the company’s total aryanization in the wake of Kristallnacht. Both Max and Hans Pinkus were very active in civic and cultural affairs and interested in local history; they amassed a large library of books by Silesian authors. In their spare time, they devoted themselves to genealogical research, the basis of the family collection archived at LBI. Hans Pinkus left Germany at the end of 1938, emigrated to the United Kingdom with his family in 1939, and died in Britain in 1977.

In reviewing the index to the collection, I had no idea where to begin. Fortunately, Elke came to my rescue and pointed me to “Series VII” (Figure 1), described as encompassing not just close Pinkus family relations but the broader array of families in Upper Silesia. Within this series I located pages related to my family, although, unlike other portions of the collection, ancestral information is recorded in longhand, in Sütterlin, no less. Even so, I was able to decipher most of the numerical data, and enlisted one of my German cousins to translate the longhand.

Here is where I discovered the source of the birth and death dates for my great-great-uncle Josef Mockrauer’s first wife, Esther Ernestine Lißner, and their son, Gerhard Mockrauer. A summary of vital information for Josef Mockrauer, his two wives, and their children follows:

Figure 2. My great-great-uncle Josef Mockrauer (1845-1895)

Figure 3a. First page of Josef Mockrauer’s 1895 death certificate

Figure 3b. Second page of Josef Mockrauer’s 1895 death certificate

Figure 4a. Plan map of the Jüdischer Friedhof in Berlin Weißensee (East Berlin) showing section Q1, where Josef Mockrauer is interred

Figure 4b. Headstone of Josef Mockrauer’s grave

NAME	EVENT	DATE	PLACE
Josef Mockrauer (Figures 2, 3a-b, 4a-b)	Birth	18 June 1845	Leschnitz, Oberschlesien, Germany [today: Leśnica, Poland]
Josef Mockrauer (Figures 2, 3a-b, 4a-b)	Death	9 February 1895	Charlottenburg, Berlin, Germany
Esther Ernestine Mockrauer, née Lißner (Josef’s first wife)	Birth	30 October 1854	Dresden, Saxony, Germany
	Death	24 May 1934	Berlin, Germany
	Marriage	Unknown	Unknown
Elly Landsberg, née Mockrauer (Figure 5)	Birth	14 August 1873	Berlin, Germany
Elly Landsberg, née Mockrauer (Figure 5)	Death	15 May 1944	Auschwitz, Poland
Gerhard Mockrauer (Figure 6)	Birth	25 January 1875	Berlin, Germany
Gerhard Mockrauer (Figure 6)	Death	21 September 1886	Freienwalde, Märkisch-Oderland district, Brandenburg, Germany
George Mockrauer (Ernestine’s out-of-wedlock child) (Figure 7)	Birth	16 April 1884	Dresden, Saxony, Germany
	Death	Unknown	Unknown
Charlotte Mockrauer, née Bruck (Josef’s second wife) (Figure 8)	Birth	8 December 1865	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]
	Death	1965	Stockholm, Sweden
	Marriage	18 March 1888	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Franz Josef Mockrauer (Figure 9)	Birth	10 August 1889	Berlin, Germany
Franz Josef Mockrauer (Figure 9)	Death	7 July 1962	Stockholm, Sweden

Figure 5. Josef Mockrauer and Esther Ernestine Mockrauer née Lißner’s daughter, Elly Landsberg née Mockrauer, in 1902

Figure 6. Birth certificate for Josef and Ernestine Mockrauer’s son, Gerhard Mockrauer, indicating he was born on January 25, 1875

Figure 7. Birth certificate for Georg Mockrauer, Ernestine Mockrauer’s out-of-wedlock son, who carried the “Mockrauer” surname even though he was not Josef Mockrauer’s son

Figure 8. Josef Mockrauer’s second wife, my great-aunt Charlotte Mockrauer née Bruck

Figure 9. Josef and Charlotte Mockrauer’s son, Franz Josef Mockrauer

Figure 10. My great-great-grandfather Fedor Bruck

Figure 11. My great-great-grandmother Friederike Bruck née Mockrauer

I made other surprising discoveries in the Pinkus Collection. Briefly, some context. The second-generation owners of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preussen” Hotel in Ratibor were my great-grandparents, Fedor Bruck (Figure 10) and Friederike Bruck née Mockrauer. (Figure 11) As the table below shows, Fedor and Friederike Bruck had eight children, only six of whom I’d previously been able to track from birth to death; Elise and Robert remained wraiths whose existence I knew about but assumed had died at birth, a not uncommon fate in the 19^th century. This was not, in fact, what happened. Elise lived to almost age 4, and Robert to age 16. While Elise expectedly died in Ratibor, mystifyingly, Robert died on December 30, 1887 in Braunschweig, Germany, more than 450 miles from Ratibor. Why here is unclear. Their causes of death are a mystery, though childhood diseases a real possibility.

Figure 13. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck

NAME	EVENT	DATE	PLACE
Felix Bruck (Figure 12)	Birth	28 March 1864	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Felix Bruck (Figure 12)	Death	23 June 1927	Berlin, Germany
Charlotte Mockrauer, née Bruck (Figure 8)	Birth	8 December 1865	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Charlotte Mockrauer, née Bruck (Figure 8)	Death	1965	Stockholm, Sweden
Franziska Bruck (Figure 13)	Birth	29 December 1866	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Franziska Bruck (Figure 13)	Death	2 January 1942	Berlin, Germany
Elise Bruck	Birth	20 August 1868	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Elise Bruck	Death	19 June 1872	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Hedwig Löwenstein, née Bruck (Figure 14)	Birth	22 March 1870	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Hedwig Löwenstein, née Bruck (Figure 14)	Death	15 January 1949	Nice, France
Robert Bruck	Birth	1 December 1871	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Robert Bruck	Death	30 December 1887	Braunschweig, Lower Saxony, Germany
Wilhelm Bruck (Figure 15)	Birth	24 October 1872	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Wilhelm Bruck (Figure 15)	Death	29 April 1952	Barcelona, Spain
Elsbeth Bruck (Figure 16)	Birth	17 November 1874	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Elsbeth Bruck (Figure 16)	Death	20 February 1970	Berlin, Germany

Figure 14. Another great-aunt, Hedwig Löwenstein, née Bruck

Figure 16. Yet another great-aunt Elsbeth Bruck

With respect to the tables above, I don’t expect readers to do anything more than glance at them; for me, they’re a quick reference as to what I know and where it came from, a form of metadata, if you will. The italicized information in the tables was new to me and originated from the Pinkus Collection.

As a related aside, Friederike Mockrauer and Josef Mockrauer were siblings. Interestingly, Josef Mockrauer would go on to eventually marry one of his sister’s daughters, his niece, my great-aunt Charlotte Bruck. Incestuous, I would agree.

Figure 17. Page from the Pinkus Family Collection showing Fedor and Friederike Bruck’s eight children, including birth and death dates for my great-aunt Elise and my great-uncle Robert, both of whom died as children. Towards the bottom right my father’s name is shown (Otto Bruck). [Citation: Series VII: Genealogical and historical materials on the Fraenkel family and others, undated, 1600s-1971; Pinkus Family Collection; AR 7030; Box 20; Folder 3; Page 293; Leo Baeck Institute]

Remarkably, on the very same page where I discovered Elise and Robert’s dates and places of death, I found my father and his three siblings listed! (Figure 17) Inasmuch as I can tell, the detailed family information was recorded by either Max (Max died in 1934) or Hans Pinkus around the early- to mid-1930’s, at which time my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, would have been a dentist in Tiegenhof in the Free State of Danzig, and this is precisely what is noted: “Zahnarzt im Tiegenhof (Freistaat Danzig)”; “Freistaat Danzig” was the official name of this former part of the Deutsches Reich after World War I.

Figure 18. Page from the Pinkus Family Collection identifying Oscar Pincus and Paula Pincus née Pauly’s two children (“kinder” in German), Franz Pincus and Lisselotte “Lilo” Pauly. Here can also be seen that Franz Pincus married Lisa Krüger. [Citation: Series VII: Genealogical and historical materials on the Fraenkel family and others, undated, 1600s-1971; Pinkus Family Collection; AR 7030; Box 20; Folder 3; Page 307; Leo Baeck Institute]

Finally, from the Pinkus Collection, I was also able to confirm that Elisabeth “Lisa” Pauly née Krüger, discussed in Blog Post 40, one of the “silent heroes” who hid my Uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck during his 30-months “underground” in Berlin during WWII, was indeed married to Franz Pincus (Figure 18); Franz Pincus, readers may recall, died in 1941 as Franz Pauly, having taken his mother’s maiden name as his own surname. While the Pinkus Collection shed no additional light on exactly how Franz Pincus/Pauly died, I discovered Franz was the older rather than the younger of two siblings, contrary to what was in my family tree. This comports with a photo, attached here, showing Franz and his sister, Charlotte “Lisselotte or Lilo” Pauly, as children, found since I published Post 40; readers can clearly see Franz is the older of the two children. (Figure 19)

Figure 19. Franz and Lilo Pauly as children in 1902

Tracking down the Pinkus Collection with its relevant family history is admittedly noteworthy, but the real service was rendered by Max and Hans Pinkus. Their detailed compilation of ancestral data from related Silesian families was gathered while running a full-time business and in the days before genealogical information was digitized, when most of the painstaking work had to be undertaken manually through time-consuming letter-writing, and perhaps occasional phone calls and family gatherings. So, while I take obvious pleasure in having discovered the Pinkus Collection, I acknowledge the true forensic genealogists for amassing this valuable trove of family history.

Let me conclude by emphasizing that well-done family trees to which ancestry.com leads genealogists can often be the source of valuable forensic clues but should be closely scrutinized and delved into to before accepting the data prima facie. And, finally, I have no idea how many “cold cases” I can eventually solve but the challenge is what motivates me.

CITATION

Series VII: Genealogical and historical materials on the Fraenkel family and others, undated, 1600s-1971; Pinkus Family Collection; AR 7030; Box 20; Folder 3; Leo Baeck Institute

POST 35: FATE OF SOME JEWISH GUESTS WHO STAYED AT THE VILLA PRIMAVERA (FIESOLE, ITALY), 1937-1938

UPDATED MAY 18, 2021

(UPDATES IN RED)

“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.

Figure 1. “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia” (Stay of Foreigners in Italy) form for my great-aunt Franziska Bruck

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.

Figure 2. My aunt Susanne Müller née Bruck, murdered in Auschwitz in September 1942

Figure 3. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck, suicide victim of the Holocaust in January 1942

Figure 4. My first cousin twice-removed, Auguste “Gusti” Schueck, murdered in the Theresienstadt Ghetto in May 1943

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
Cohn née 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
Heilbronner née 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
Sakheim née Plotkin, Anuta (PALESTINIAN)(Figure 16)	2/15/1896 Lodz, Poland	8/1939 Tel Aviv, Palestine	Destiny: Suicide
Schoop, Paul (SWISS)	7/31/1907 Zurich, Switzerland	1/1/1976 Van Nuys, CA	Destiny: Immigrated to America
Steinfeld née Blum, Jenny (GERMAN)	10/24/1865 Deutsch Eylau, West Prussia	8/27/1942 Berlin, Germany	Destiny: Suicide victim of the Holocaust

Figure 5. Report of Charlotte Victoria Baerwald’s Death in Switzerland in March 1966

Figure 6. My grandmother Else Bruck née Berliner in 1925

Figure 7. Eva Bruck in Barcelona in May 1950

Figure 8. Eva Bruck’s Death Certificate from Ainring, Germany, August 1977

Figure 9. Manifest of Alien Passengers showing Belgian Jew Jacques Cypres’s arrival from Porto, Portugal to NYC in July 1941

Figure 10a. Gabriele Fleischner’s 1940 Naturalization Record

Figure 11a. Konrad Fleischner’s 1940 Naturalization Record

Figure 12a. Paul Heilbronner’s 1939 Naturalization Record

Figure 13a. Sofie Heilbronner’s 1944 Naturalization Record

Figure 14. Emanuel Emil Herz’s 1938 Swiss Emigration form

Figure 15. My uncle Dr. Franz Müller on his 70th birthday in December 1941 in Fayence, France

Figure 16. Anuta Sakheim who committed suicide in Palestine in August 1939

Figure 17. My aunt Susanne & her husband Dr. Franz Müller in 1938 at the Villa Primavera in Fiesole, Italy

Figure 18. Lucia von Jacobi in 1936-37, at the Villa Primavera in Fiesole, Italy

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.

Figure 20. The “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia” 1937 form for Eduard Berend showing his 1934 passport number

Figure 21. Eduard Berend’s 1939 Passport

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)

Figure 23. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck’s Stolperstein in Wilmersdorf, Berlin

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

Figure 24a. Ludwig Donath’s 1940 Naturalization Record

Figure 25a. Maria Donath nee Camsky’s 1940 Naturalization Record

Figure 25b. Maria Donath nee Camsky in 1940

Figure 26. Character actor Ludwig 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.

Figure 27. Character actor Ludwig Donath

Figure 28. Character actor Ludwig Donath in the role of Adolf Hitler

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)

Figure 31. Helene Goldenring and her daughter Eva after they reunited in America, Easter 1960

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.”

Figure 43. The “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia” form for Eugen Haydt

Figure 44. The “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia” form for Lillian Haydt née Winternitz

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 6^th 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 17^th of January 1973; his wife may have worked with him, and passed away on the 4^th 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)

Figure 45. Apartment building in Sydney where Eugen and Lillian Haydt lived after they immigrated to Australia in 1939

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)

Figure 35a. Paul Schoop’s famous brother-in-law, Friedrich Maurice Holländer’s 1935 Naturalization Form

Figure 35b. Friedrich Maurice Holländer in 1935

Figure 36a. Paul Schoop’s sister, Hedwig “Hedi” Holländer nee Schoop’s 1935 Naturalization Form

Figure 36b. Poor quality photo of Hedwig “Hedi” Holländer nee Schoop in 1935

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.

Figure 38. Page from the Memorial Book for Jewish Victims of Nazi Persecution for Jenny Steinfeld

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

Figure 40. My first cousin once-removed, Kay Lutze, with Anja Holländer in Amsterdam, Netherlands in October 2017

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)

Figure 40a. Benjamin Holländer’s Death Certificate (1809-12 May 1884) identifying his wife as Helene Bruck (misspelled as “Boch”)

Figure 40b. Translation of Benjamin Holländer’s Death Certificate

Figure 41a. Ludwig Heinrich Holländer Death Certificate (4 Feb 1833-12 March 1897) identifying his mother as Helene Bruck

Figure 41b. Translation of Ludwig Heinrich Holländer’s Death Certificate

As we speak, I am trying to learn how Anja is related to Friedrick and Helene Holländer née Bruck. Watch this space!

Figure 42. My father, Dr. Otto Bruck, and his sister, Susanne Müller née Bruck, at the Villa Primavera in 1937 or 1938

POST 21: MY AUNT SUSANNE, NÉE BRUCK, & HER HUSBAND DR. FRANZ MÜLLER, THE FIESOLE YEARS

Note: This post is the next chapter in my Aunt Susanne and Uncle Franz’s story, following their departure in late 1935 or early 1936 from Berlin to escape the increasingly repressive National Socialist regime, when they sought refuge in Fiesole, Italy. There are certain family history stories I look forward to writing and sharing with readers, and this is one such tale, when, albeit briefly, my relatives held out hope they might survive the homicidal madmen threatening Europe in the lead-up to WWII and lead normal lives. Much about the roughly two-and-a-half years my aunt and uncle spent in Fiesole remains unknown, including why they decided to immigrate here. Still, some of what I’ve learned as recently as 2016 provides a sound basis to speculate why they may have moved here.

In Post 1, I introduced readers to a quote by the brainy, former executive of the Los Angeles Dodgers, Branch Rickey, who once said that “Luck is the residue of design.” The story I’m about to relate about my Aunt Susanne and her esteemed husband, Dr. Franz Müller, and the discoveries I made about their years in Fiesole, Italy, speaks volumes to this truth.

I can’t remember exactly when I first learned that my aunt and uncle had lived in Fiesole, a gorgeous Tuscan town, founded by the Etruscans in the 9^th-8^th centuries B.C., located on the scenic heights to the northeast of Firenze (Florence). However, I recall when I first visited Fiesole. It was in the 1990’s, long before I became interested in family history, when I was a mere archaeologist and my aim was simply to visit the Roman ruins that are the town’s main tourist attraction. (Figure 1) I’ve always imagined the tawny landscape and gently rolling hills of Tuscany as an inviting billowy pillow in which to do a face-plant. So, it’s easy to comprehend the attraction Tuscany might have held for Jewish immigrants in the face of the malign forces that surrounded them.

The current post organizes chronologically all the information I’ve collected about my aunt and uncle during three visits to Fiesole, in 2014, 2015, and again in 2016. Before starting my family investigations, I had no idea, for example, when my aunt and uncle departed Berlin, nor when they arrived in Fiesole. But, as I explained in the previous post, I learned from the Grundbuch, or “real estate register” for the property my uncle owned in Berlin-Charlottenburg, that he sold his house there in November or December 1935, and likely departed with my aunt soon afterwards. Similarly, in conjunction with what I eventually discovered in Fiesole, I place their arrival there in the first quarter of 1936.

Figure 2-My father with two cousins, Eva Bruck & Eva Goldenring, and his sister Susanne (right) on May 10, 1938 after he arrived in Fiesole

Judging from the dated pictures in my father’s photo albums, he too departed Germany, likely from Berlin, two years later, in early March 1938. Between March 5^th and March 9^th, my father spent several days visiting the tourist attractions in Vienna, Austria, seemingly in the company of other Jewish émigrés. Having lost his profession, and bewildered as to what the future held, he headed for Fiesole. Along the way, my father stopped to do some skiing and hiking in the Dolomite Mountains and passed through a town in Alto Adige, Italy, named Bolzano or Bozen; this is a place my wife and I have visited on several occasions for reasons having nothing to do with family history, and everything to do with the famed 5,000-year old “Ötzi the Iceman,” discovered in the Tyrolean Alps, who is displayed at the Museum of Archaeology in Bolzano. Eventually, my father arrived in Fiesole, his pictures never specifying exactly when though I ultimately worked this out. (Figure 2)

Figure 3-1938 Fiesole Emigration Register with my aunt & uncle’s names listed

Knowing of my family’s association with Fiesole, I decided to contact the “Municipio,” or City Hall there, and inquire about any documentary evidence they might possess on my aunt and uncle. When I accessed their website, I was pleasantly surprised to discover a branch of the Municipio called “Archivio Storico Comunale,” the “Municipal Historic Archive.” I immediately contacted them on March 27, 2014, explained my family’s connection to Fiesole, provided my aunt and uncle’s names, and the street name where they’d lived, Via del Salviatino, and asked for any relevant information. Amazingly, the very next day the town’s archivist, Ms. Lucia Nadetti, responded by sending me a page from Fiesole’s emigration register from 1938 with my aunt and uncle’s names listed. (Figure 3) The speed with which I was able to find evidence of my aunt and uncle’s presence in Fiesole left me breathless.

Fiesole’s emigration register placed my aunt and uncle’s arrival in Fiesole as April 30, 1936, and their departure to France as September 16, 1938; the register, among other things, showed they lived at Via del Salviatino 14, a place I only later learned was named the “Villa Primavera” (Figures 4a & 4b), and shared living accommodations with an Austrian woman named Lucia von Jacobi. For reasons I will get into below, I actually place my aunt and uncle’s arrival in Fiesole a month earlier, on March 31, 1936. Lucia Nadetti further explained there was no evidence my aunt and uncle paid taxes on their residence, and concluded they were probably renting the house, a question I resolved to answer when I visited Fiesole in 2014.

Figure 4a-Postcard illustrating the Villa Primavera

Figure 4b-Photo of the Villa Primavera taken in 1938 by my father

After studying the 1938 emigration register (see Figure 3), I followed up with a few questions related to abbreviations and Italian words I could not make out. Ms. Nadetti explained my aunt was shown as “coniugi,” married to Franz, and identified as “a.c.,” or “Atta a casa,” namely, a housewife. By contrast, Ms. Jacobi was described as “benestante,” or well-to-do, and registered as a “vedova,” or widow.

Figure 5-Ms. Lucia Nadetti, our friend and archivist at the “Archivio Storico Comunale”

I told Ms. Nadetti of our plans to vacation in Fiesole later in 2104, and she promised to show me everything she’d found when we came. My wife and I eventually turned up at the “Archivio Storico Comunale” in Fiesole in June 2014, the year we spent 13 weeks visiting places associated with my family’s diaspora, traveling from Gdansk, Poland to Valencia, Spain. By the time we showed up, Ms. Nadetti (Figure 5) had collected the registration logs listing all my aunt and uncle’s guests. During Italy’s Fascist era, all out-of-town visitors were required to appear with their hosts at the Municipio, provide their names, show their identity papers, indicate their anticipated length of stay, and complete what was called a “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia,” or “Stay of Foreigners in Italy.” I was a bit surprised at the rather large number of guests my aunt and uncle had hosted, but simply attributed this to my relatives offering accommodations to Jews fleeing Germany.

Figure 6- The “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia” for my great-aunt Franziska Bruck who eventually returned to Berlin and committed suicide in January 1942

These registration forms, while highly intrusive, are enormously informative for doing genealogical research, uncovering names of visitors, and establishing timelines for these guests. When completing the “Soggiorno” forms (Figure 6), guests were required to provide the names of both their parents, including the mother’s maiden name, plus their own date and place of birth. While these forms have not survived for all the guests who stayed with my aunt and uncle, those that remain are particularly useful. In a future Blog post, I will relate the stories of some guests whose fate I’ve been able to determine.

Figure 7-The immigration log showing my father Otto Bruck’s arrival in Italy on May 10, 1938, and his registration in Fiesole on May 26, 1938

The immigration log recorded my father’s arrival in Italy, following his departure from Vienna, as May 10, 1938 (Figure 7), and his registration at the Comunale in Fiesole as May 26^th. Given that my father had been in Vienna as late as May 9^th, I surmise he arrived in Italy by an overnight train. The immigration register records a second visit by my father in September 1938, which I’ll discuss below.

Initially, I didn’t know whether my uncle ever owned Via del Salviatino 14, so upon our arrival in Fiesole, Ms. Nadetti directed me to the “Conservatorio Dei Registri Immobiliari” in nearby Firenze to check ownership records. Here, we learned the descendants of a former obstetrician/gynecologist, named Dr. Gino Frascani, own two houses along Via Del Salviatino, numbered 12 and 14; my uncle, it turns out, never owned the Villa Primavera. Naturally, I assumed Via del Salviatino 14 was the house where my aunt and uncle had once lived, an erroneous supposition as it turned out.

Figure 8-Our Italian friend Ms. Giuditta Melli

The visit to the Conservatorio turned out to be fortuitous, but not simply for what we learned there. In 2014, my wife and I were staying at a bed-and-breakfast on the outskirts of Fiesole, and rather than deal with the city traffic to get to the Conservatorio, we took the bus there. By happenstance, while trying to ascertain where to catch the return bus at the end of the day, a delightful English-speaking Italian woman, Ms. Giuditta Melli (Figure 8), noticed our confusion and confirmed we were in the right place. She was headed on the same bus, so we exchanged pleasantries on the ride, and she invited us to visit the ceramic shop near the Conservatorio where she teaches. Two days later we dropped by and mentioned in passing the reason for our visit to Fiesole. Giuditta was moved to tears because she’d recently learned that her great-uncle was Jewish and had been deported to Buchenwald from Firenze by the Fascists and murdered there. As we prepared to leave, we exchanged emails and promised to stay in touch. This turned into an exceptionally productive friendship.

Figure 9-The Fiesole immigration log showing my aunt and uncle were guests of Dr. Gino Frascani beginning on March 31, 1936

After our visit to the Conservatorio, my wife and I paid a return visit to Ms. Nadetti at the Archivio Storico Comunale to update her on our findings. Reminded of Dr. Frascani’s connection to properties along Via del Salviatino, Ms. Nadetti consulted an immigration register from 1936, similar to ones she’d shown us from 1937 and 1938. In it, she discovered my aunt and uncle initially were guests of Dr. Frascani at Via del Salviatino 14, the house they ultimately leased from him; this document shows my aunt and uncle arrived in Fiesole on March 31, 1936, and registered at the Municipio on April 7^th, in other words, a month earlier than the emigration register that placed their arrival there on April 30, 1936. (Figure 9)

Figure 10-The results of Fiesole’s mayoral election of October 17, 1920 showing Dr. Gino Frascani won by two votes

Having definitively linked my Uncle Franz to Dr. Gino Frascani, Ms. Nadetti found and shared a few documents about the doctor, and, eventually even compiled a summary of Dr. Frascani’s activities as a City Councilman for Fiesole through four legislative terms, 1905, 1910, 1914 and 1920. We also learned Dr. Frascani had been Mayor of Fiesole (Figure 10) for a time but forced to quit after being threatened by the Fascists on account of his socialist leanings. Interestingly, the roster of mayors listed on a placard in the Municipio does not even include Dr. Frascani.

Figure 11-Dr. Gino Frascani, right, on the steps of the Istituto di Cura Chirurgica del Salviatino ca. 1909

One document given to us by Ms. Nadetti showed Dr. Frascani (Figure 11) paid for construction of an “Istituto di Cura Chirurgica del Salviatino,” dedicated to his mother, Ersilia Frascani, built in 1908-09 along Via del Salviatino in Firenze. (Figure 12) The sanatorium was divided into sections for: general and special surgery; gynecology; obstetrics; and medical services. Dr. Frascani, a truly remarkable man whose life story begs to be told, even maintained free beds in the institute’s common infirmary for “charity.” The Istituto still stands today, regrettably no longer as a hospital, but rather as exclusive condominiums.

Figure 12-The “Istituto di Cura Chirurgica del Salviatino”

Having for the moment learned as much as we could from the various archives and city offices, my wife and I set out to locate Via del Salviatino 14. One could almost characterize this search as a comedy of errors. Prior to visiting Fiesole, I had located the house on Google Earth, so assumed I knew what I was looking for.

Figure 13-My wife Ann standing in front of Via del Salviatino 14 in Firenze we mistook for the house where my aunt and uncle once lived

Via del Salviatino 14 is situated in an exclusive section of town, and when we finally located the address, the street-facing side of the apartment building did not appear as it had in my father’s pictures. (Figure 13) Coincidentally, the day we first visited, two black SUVs with tinted windows and burly guards, obviously protecting a high-ranking government official, refused to let us access the rear of the building to check. Confronted with this obstacle, we were forced to strategically retreat. When we returned the next day, the portly guards were gone, and we were able to access the building’s backside. Clearly, this was not the house my aunt and uncle had lived in.

Figure 14-Street sign along Via del Salviatino indicating boundary between Fiesole & Firenze

Puzzled, I returned to the street, and discovered my mistake. Via del Salviatino begins in Firenze (Florence), almost at the point where the “Sanatorio Frascani” is located, BUT, continues into Fiesole; in other words, Via del Salviatino transects both towns, and as fate would have it, the divide between Fiesole and Firenze is directly in front of the Via del Salviatino 14 we were standing at in Firenze. (Figure 14)

Figure 15-Mailboxes along Via del Salviatino, including #14, that also was not the Villa Primavera

Having resolved this issue, we quickly found the Via del Salviatino 14, in Fiesole, a short distance up the street. On one of three mailboxes at this location with house numbers 12, 14 and 14a (Figure 15), is the name “R. FRASCANI.” Naturally, we concluded this was a descendant of Dr. Frascani, and that he resides in the house where my aunt and uncle had once lived. We drove up the dirt road, rang the bell at the gated entrance to his bed-and-breakfast, but no one answered. However, we ran into a young man riding a Moped, a childhood friend of Mr. Frascani, as it happens; he called Ranieri on his cellphone and we spoke briefly. However, since neither of us spoke the other’s language well, we agreed I would send him an email with my questions upon my return to the states, which is in fact what I did. Regardless, it would be another year before we met in person and I got answers to some of my queries.

In the interim, I maintained contact with Giuditta Melli. One day, she discovered a fleeting reference in a German article saying my Aunt Susanne Müller-Bruck and her housemate, Lucia von Jacobi, had co-managed a pension. Given the large number of guests that had stayed at the Villa Primavera, this should have been obvious from the start.

Figure 16-Maria Agata Frascani, Giuditta Melli, myself and Ranieri Frascani, October 2016, Fiesole

In anticipation of our 2015 visit to Fiesole, Giuditta invited my wife and I to stay with her and her family at their large villa in Firenze, only a short distance from Via del Salviatino. Giuditta also arranged and served as translator for our meeting with Ranieri, the grandson of Dr. Gino Frascani, and his mother, Ms. Maria Agata Frascani, née Mannelli, the daughter-in-law of Dr. Frascani. (Figure 16) It was

Figure 17-Sign for the Villa Primavera, today numbered Via del Salviatino 16

during this get-together that we finally learned the house where Ranieri lives and has his B&B is not the Villa Primavera. In fact, as we found out at the Conservatorio the year before, his family owns both Via del Salviatino 12 and 14. However, sometime after 1940, houses along Via del Salviatino were renumbered, and the Villa Primavera (Figure 17) reassigned the number “16.” Ranieri showed us the adjacent Villa Primavera from his property and told us the house no longer belongs to his family.

After our get-together with Ranieri Frascani, his mother invited us to her home (Figure 18) and showed us the thick album with photos and articles related to the construction and opening of the Istituto di Cura Chirurgica del Salviatino in 1908-09. (Figure 19)

Figure 18-The former house of Dr. Frascani, Via del Salviatino 18, where his daughter-in-law currently resides

Figure 19-Copy of letter addressed to Doctor Frascani

Having finally resolved that the Villa Primavera where my aunt and uncle had once resided was now numbered Via del Salviatino 16, I’ve tried on several occasions to contact the current owners, to no avail.

Figure 20-Dr. Irene Below, author of a book on Ms. Lucia von Jacobi, at Parco di Monte Ceceri, Firenze, October 2016

Following our visit to Fiesole in 2015, my wife and I had not anticipated returning in 2016. However, Giuditta made a surprising discovery while researching Lucia von Jacobi, the Austrian lady with whom my aunt ran the Pension Villa Primavera, and our plans changed. She learned of a professor, Dr. Irene Below (Figure 20), from Werther, Germany, who’d written a full-length book about Ms. Jacobi. Giuditta immediately contacted Dr. Below, explained her interest in Lucia, told her of my aunt and uncle, and mentioned she was in touch and assisting Dr. Franz Müller’s nephew.

Dr. Below was surprised to hear from Giuditta and learn of her interest in people Irene had studied and knew about. Dr. Below related a fascinating tale. She came to Firenze in 1964 as a student intending to write about the history of art. While researching this topic, however, she came across magazines and diaries of an unknown person who turned out to be Lucia von Jacobi, a woman with very famous friends (e.g., Heinrich and Thomas Mann, Gustaf Gründgens, etc.), and decided instead to write about her. Then, amazingly, in 1966, Dr. Below walked into an antiquarian shop in Firenze and discovered the bulk of Ms. Jacobi’s personal papers, which she soon purchased with her parents’ financial assistance. For those aware of events in Firenze in 1966, great floods along the Arno in November resulted in countless treasures being swept away and destroyed; if not for Dr. Below’s fortuitous discovery, the same would likely have happened to Ms. Jacobi’s papers.

Figure 21-Ms. Lucia von Jacobi at the Villa Primavera in 1936 or 1937 (***CREDIT : Akademie der Künste, Berlin, Lucy-von-Jacobi-Archiv, Nr.* *Sign. 85_01.***)

Dr. Below explained that beginning in 1936, Lucia von Jacobi (Figure 21), together with my aunt and uncle rented the Villa Primavera, and soon after began to take in guests. Ms. Jacobi arrived in Firenze in December 1934, via Vienna, Prague, Meran, and Ascona. However, according to Dr. Below, Lucy traveled from Berlin, so my aunt and uncle may already have known Lucy in Berlin or had friends in common.

As to the relationship of my uncle to Dr. Frascani, I’ve been unable to discover how they met. However, since both were doctors, I assume they worked together professionally before my aunt and uncle moved to Fiesole. While it’s likely Dr. Müller worked in Dr. Frascani’s sanatorium, there’s some uncertainty about this as I discuss below.

Dr. Below sent Giuditta a PowerPoint presentation and scientific paper she delivered in 2009 at the “Kunsthistorisches Institut in Florenz,” entitled “Florenz 1935-1938: Zuflucht – Treffpunkt – Sehnsuchtsort. Lucy von Jacobi (1887-1956) und ihre Pension Villa Primavera,” translated roughly as “Florence 1935-1938: Refuge – Meeting – Longing. Lucy von Jacobi (1887-1956) and Her Pension Villa Primavera.” Seemingly, for a brief period between 1935 and 1938, German refugees, especially those interested in arts and culture, found refuge in Firenze, and gathered with friends and like-minded people at the Villa Primavera for recreation and conversation, brought together by Ms. Jacobi. Immigrants and guests mingled with locals to discuss Florentine art, Tuscan cuisine, the landscape, architecture from near and far, and more. I imagine my aunt and uncle may have been attracted to Fiesole for the same reasons other Jewish émigrés were, the intellectual milieu and attractive setting; in the case of my uncle, the ability to continue working as a doctor may also have been a factor.

Figure 22-Ms. Lucia Nadetti & Dr. Irene Below at the at the “Archivio Storico Comunale”

At Giuditta’s invitation, Dr. Below, as well as my wife and me, all gathered in Firenze in October 2016. (Figure 22) This gave us an opportunity to discuss other things Dr. Below had learned from Lucia’s papers. Regarding my aunt and uncle, there were several remarkable items found in Lucia’s belongings. Dr. Below discovered a photograph of Ms. Jacobi with my Uncle Franz seated on the same chairs as a photo I possess showing my aunt and uncle. (Figures 23 & 24) She also found a card written by my Aunt Susanne to Lucia on July 31, 1938, from Champoluc in the Aosta Valley, Italy, where my aunt and uncle had gone to rest.

Figure 23-Ms. Lucia von Jacobi and my Uncle Franz at the Villa Primavera (***CREDIT : Akademie der Künste, Berlin, Lucy-von-Jacobi-Archiv, Nr.*** ***Sign. 85_28***)

Figure 24-In 1938, my Aunt Susanne & Uncle Franz at the Villa Primavera seated on the same chairs shown in Fig. 23

Perhaps, most interesting is the second page of a letter my Aunt Susanne wrote when Lucia traveled to Palestine for three months in the latter half of 1938. This trip may have been prompted by Hitler and Mussolini’s visit to Firenze on May 9, 1938, soon after resulting in Mussolini’s embrace of the “Manifesto of the Racial Scientists” on July 14, 1938. Basically, this Manifesto declared the Italian civilization to be of Aryan origin and claimed the existence of a “pure” Italian race to which Jews did not belong. Between September 2, 1938 and November 17, 1938, Italy enacted a series of racial laws, including one forbidding foreign Jews from settling in Italy. Ms. Jacobi had just returned to Firenze, but after passage of the racial laws, she escaped in October 1938 to Switzerland, forced to leave all her possessions behind. Dr. Below surmises that Lucia’s personal papers remained in the Villa Primavera until Dr. Frascani’s descendants sold the house, likely shortly before they wound up in the antiquarian shop.

Dr. Below explained that following Ms. Jacobi’s return from Palestine, she was constantly being watched and her mail monitored. Curious as to whether the same might have applied to my uncle, I asked Dr. Below about this and she gave me the name of a German researcher, Mr. Klaus Voigt, who has examined the files at the “Archivio centrale dello Stato” (“Central Archives of the State”) in Rome on people who were monitored during Italy’s Fascist era.

Mr. Voigt explained that monitoring of people like my uncle would have been done by the local Questura, that’s to say, the police in the province of Firenze, and that he never found a file on my uncle in the archives in Rome. He further revealed all these local files, stored in the basement of the Uffizi, were destroyed in the 1966 inundations in Firenze, previously mentioned. Seemingly, the only files that survive at the Archivio centrale dello Stato in Rome were for important opponents of Fascism.

Mr. Voigt shared another interesting fact about my uncle. Dr. Franz Müller’s name was familiar to Mr. Voigt as a teacher at the Landschulheim Florenz, which was directed by two German-Jewish émigrés. During his stay in Firenze, my Uncle Franz taught a special course there for medical-technical assistants. For this reason, I’m uncertain whether he also worked in the “Sanatorio Frascani” during his years in Firenze.

Figure 25-The Fiesole immigration log showing my father registered a second time on September 15, 1938

I began this post with mention of the 1938 emigration log sent to me by Ms. Nadetti, indicating my aunt and uncle departed Firenze on September 16, 1938. Previously, I also mentioned that my father’s name, Otto Bruck, was recorded in the immigration log a second time. He registered on September 15, 1938 (Figure 25), for a stay of two weeks, but I surmise he left with my aunt and uncle, and, as it happens, my grandmother the next day.

Figure 26-Fiesole’s immigration log for May 1938 listing my uncle, grandmother and Lucia von Jacobi

Within two weeks of Hitler and Mussolini’s visit to Firenze on May 9, 1938, Jewish immigrants who’d not previously registered with the Municipio were required to do so. This included my Uncle Franz, my grandmother Else Bruck, née Berliner, and Lucia von Jacobi, but, oddly, not my Aunt Susanne. (Figure 26) Their names all appear in the registration logs in May 1938, their length of stays shown as “per sempre,” that’s to say, forever. Clearly, forever lasted only a few more months.

REFERENCE

Below, Irene and Ruth Oelze

2009 “Lucy von Jacobi: Journalistin” Mit Aufsätzen und Kritaken. Deutsche Kinemathek (Berlin). München Ed. Text + Kritik. Film & Schrift, Band 9.

Figure 27-The Tuscan landscape as seen from the Villa Primavera in 1936 (***CREDIT : Akademie der Künste, Berlin, Lucy-von-Jacobi-Archiv, Nr.* *Sign.* *85_45***)

POST 20: MY AUNT SUSANNE, NÉE BRUCK, & HER HUSBAND DR. FRANZ MÜLLER, THE BERLIN YEARS

Note: The next three Blog posts will be about my father’s beloved older sister, Susanne, and her husband, the esteemed Dr. Franz Robert Müller. I’ll talk about three phases of their lives, their years in Berlin, Germany, followed by their time in Fiesole, Italy, and their final years together in Fayence, France. In a small way, my aunt and uncle’s story and their movements from one country to another provide a broad perspective on the events that were going on in Europe during the era of the National Socialists, and the aspects of the war they were exposed to, including the ultimate and tragic outcome. I hope in this manner to tell a more personal story. For many readers, I expect the discussion of my aunt and uncle’s years in Berlin will be of only passing interest. Nevertheless, this story lays the groundwork for the years they spent in Fiesole, Italy and Fayence, France, and details the forensic genealogical work that went into partially reconstructing their story in the places they lived. This analysis may inform readers on how to approach their own family research.

Figure 1-My father Otto with his beloved older sister Susanne, as children in Ratibor

Often, when I begin to investigate my ancestors, I have little to go on except for names, and possibly dates and places of some vital events. If the individuals were accomplished, which is sometimes the case in my extended family, I can typically learn a little about them by doing a web search. There are no longer any surviving members of my father’s generation who can fill in the narrative on my aunt and uncle, so their stories are perforce very sketchy and incomplete. Add to this the fact that my father very rarely spoke to me of his sister, likely because this was a gaping wound in his psyche following her premature death. (Figure 1) I clearly remember being on a lengthy road-trip with my father in his later years, asking him whether he ever thought about his sister, only to have him burst into tears. It was heart-rending.

Figure 2-My Aunt Susanne around the time she married Dr. Franz Müller

Figure 3-My Uncle Franz around the time he married my aunt

Figure 4-One version of my aunt and uncle’s “Heiratsurkunde,” or marriage certificate

My Aunt Susanne (Figure 2) was the second wife of Dr. Franz Robert Müller (Figure 3), whom she married on April 18, 1931, in Berlin-Charlottenburg. (Figure 4) According to their marriage certificate, my aunt’s profession at the time was “Geschäftsführer,” or Managing Director (Figure 5), a position she held in her Aunt Franziska’s flower shop, the renowned aunt discussed in Post 15. (Figure 6) In a separate post, Post 12, I explained how I discovered my aunt and father’s birth certificates at the “Archiwum Państwowe w Katowicach Oddział w Raciborzu” (Polish State Archives in Katowice Branch in Racibórz); this confirmed my Aunt Susanne was born in Ratibor on April 20, 1904. Beyond this, sadly, I know very little of my aunt’s life in Ratibor or Berlin prior to her marriage, nor when she emigrated to Berlin.

Figure 5-The second version of my aunt and uncle’s certificate of marriage identifying my aunt’s profession as “Geschäftsführer,” or Managing Director

Figure 6-My great-aunt Franziska Bruck in her flower shop in Berlin

By contrast, I have found numerous traces of Dr. Müller in various Berlin address and telephone directories from 1903 to 1936; in German military registers available online at ancestry.com; at Berlin’s “Centrum Judaicum Archiv”; in the “Humboldt Universität zu Berlin Archiv“; and in the “Grundbuch,” or “real estate register,” on file at the “Dienststelle Lichterfelde Grundbuchamt,” for the property he once owned in Berlin-Charlottenburg.

Figure 7-1903 Berlin Address Book identifying Dr. Müller as “Dr. rer. nat. [i.e., “Doctor rerum naturalium]”], Priv. Docent”

The 1903 Berlin Adressbuch (Figure 7), identifies Dr. Müller as “Dr. rer. nat. [i.e., “Doctor rerum naturalium]”], Priv. Docent” or a doctor of natural sciences, as well as a private lecturer, while a 1928 document provides a more detailed title, “Professor an der Universität Berlin, Dr. rer. nat. et med. [i.e., “Doctor rerum naturalium and Doctor rerum medicarum”], a doctor of both natural sciences and medicine, as well as a university professor. (Figure 8) Franz Müller studied medicine at Ruprecht-Karls-Universität (Heidelberg University) and the Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität (Humboldt University of Berlin). In 1902, Dr. Müller was appointed a lecturer to the medical faculty of Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität, a position that was a stepping-stone to the professorship he eventually attained in 1912 (Figure 9), when he was elevated to a nontenured position of professor of pharmacology.

Figure 8-1928 document further detailing Dr. Franz Müller’s professional titles

Figure 10-Klaus-Peter Wilhelm Müller’s (Dr. Müller’s son) 1904 birth certificate with 1930 notation indicating his surname was changed to Müller-Munk

Dr. Müller, born on December 31, 1871, was 33 years my aunt’s senior, and had two children by his first wife, Gertrud Munk, whom he married on December 14, 1901. Their son, Klaus-Peter Wilhelm Müller, was born in Berlin on June 25, 1904, and their daughter, Karin Margit Müller, on September 23, 1908. After Dr. Müller and his wife divorced, the surname of the children was changed to “Müller-Munk,” as footnoted on Peter Müller-Munk’s birth certificate on September 29, 1930 (Figure 10), many years after his birth. Both of Dr. Müller’s children will be discussed in future Blog posts. Given the 33-year age difference between my aunt and uncle, my aunt was roughly the same age as her step-children.

Figure 11-German military register with information on Dr. Müller

From the German military registers, we learn that in 1892 Dr. Müller was initially a “Feldwebel,” or Sargeant, in the 14^th Regiment of Baden, but by 1893 was promoted to “Unteroffizier,” or non-commissioned officer, and by 1898 was a junior medical doctor in Heidelberg before becoming a reservist in the medical corps. (Figure 11) After the start of WWI, he re-enlisted as a “Unterarzt,” or junior physician, but was quickly promoted to “Oberarzt,” or senior physician. By June 1918, he was transferred to Nürnberg, and a month later assigned to the military academy there.

Figure 12-Email from “Stiftung Neue Synagogue Berlin-Centrum Judaicum Archiv” indicating that Dr. Müller converted from Judaism on November 25, 1901, but that no record of my aunt’s conversion could be found

The “Stiftung Neue Synagoge Berlin-Centrum Judaicum Archiv,” or the archive of the New Synagogue Berlin – Centrum Judaicum Foundation, contains a record indicating that on November 25, 1901, less than a month before his marriage to Gertrud Munk, Dr. Müller converted to Protestantism from Judaism. (Figure 12) Incredibly, this did not prevent his being fired from Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität on September 14, 1933, almost 32 years later! This happened after the National Socialists enacted the “Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service” (“Gesetz zur Wiederherstellung des Berufsbeamtentums”) on April 7, 1933, which excluded “non-Aryans” from Government employment, and resulted in Jewish civil servants, including university professors and school teachers, being fired. (Figure 13)

Figure 13-Page from “Humboldt Universität zu Berlin Archiv” showing Dr. Müller was terminated from the University of Berlin on September 14, 1933

Figure 14-Architectural plan for house Dr. Müller had built at Kastanienallee 39 in Berlin’s Westend, highlighting entrance and alcove shown in subsequent pictures

In conjunction with the Berlin address and telephone directories, the “Grundbuch,” or “real estate register,” on file at the “Dienststelle Lichterfelde Grundbuchamt,” chronicles the various addresses where Dr. Müller lived between 1903 and 1936. Interestingly, the Grundbuch contains the original floor plan for the house Dr. Müller had built at Kastanienallee 39 in Berlin’s Westend, Berlin-Charlottenburg, between 1908-09 (Figure 14), a house he probably moved into in late 1909. Dr. Müller’s mother died in late 1908, and likely Franz’s inheritance paid for the construction of the house which was 844 m2 in size, or more than 9,000 square feet! Depending on the size of his inheritance, he may not even have had a mortgage.

Figure 15-Document dated December 5, 1935 showing the sale of Kastanienallee 39 to Dr. Ludwig Weber

The Grundbuch contains a few documents from November and December 1935 (Figure 15) showing a contract for sale of the house was entered into on November 29, 1933, to a Dr. Ludwig Weber, a retired “Staatssekretär,” or undersecretary of state in the Prussian Ministry of Finance and commissioner at the Rentenbank. Dr. Müller formally transferred Kastanienallee 39 to Dr. Weber two years later, on November 29, 1935, for 30,000 Reichmark (RM).

One of my German cousins translated a few of the documents found in the Grundbuch and explained their significance within the context of the time period. As students of European history know, Germany went through a bout of hyperinflation between 1922-23 that eventually resulted around 1924 in the old RM being devalued so that 1 new RM was equivalent to roughly 4,200,000 old RM. While this devaluation impoverished average Germans, property owners suddenly became wealthy. The 30,000 RM my uncle realized on the sale of his home in 1935, likely more than it would have been if not for hyperinflation, represented a significant amount of money. How much of my uncle’s wealth was left behind, as a result of the “exit tax” imposed on Jews departing Germany in the 1930’s, is unknown but was likely at least 25 percent.

As discussed in Post 15, according to family accounts, my aunt and uncle left Germany with the help of Italy’s Ambassador to Germany from 1932-1935, Vittorio Cerruti, who was married to a Hungarian Jew. Possibly, my aunt met the ambassador’s wife, Elisabetta Cerruti, in her Aunt Franziska’s flower shop. For reasons that remain unclear, my aunt and uncle decided to relocate to Fiesole, Italy, an Etruscan town above Firenze [Florence]. By March 31, 1936, a scant four months after Kastanienallee 39 was sold, my aunt and uncle were the guests of a noted Socialist doctor living in Fiesole, Dr. Gino Frascani, a gentleman who rented them one of his homes and employed my uncle in his medical clinic. In the following post, I’ll discuss how I was able to unearth information about my aunt and uncle’s years in Fiesole and speculate on why they may have emigrated there.

Figure 16-Co-owner, Dr. Georg-Andreas Finck, left, with his downstairs tenant, Wörner Schütze, standing inside what would have been the “Speise Zimmer,” or dining room, at Kastanienallee 39

Figure 17-Inside Kastanienallee 39 in the 1930’s showing the same view as Figure 16 with the “Speise Zimmer” (dining room) in the foreground and the “Bibliothek” (library) in the background

Numerous photos of my aunt and uncle’s home in Charlottenburg as it looked in the 1930’s survive in my father’s photo albums. The house still stands today. With the assistance of a friend who works for the equivalent of Germany’s Internal Revenue Service, I was able to contact and meet the current owners of Kastanienallee 39 (Figures 16 & 17), who gave me a tour of their home and told me a little of its post-WWII history. The destruction wrought upon Berlin during the war meant housing was at a premium in the immediate post-war era. Consequently, the large single-family home was converted into numerous small flats that housed upwards of 40 people. The alterations mean that few original interior structural elements survive today (Figures 18 & 19), although the exterior looks much as it did when my uncle had it constructed between 1908-09, judging from the surviving architectural plans. (Figures 20 & 21)

Figure 18-Inside Kastanienallee 39 in the 1930’s showing alcove

Figure 19-Inside Kastanienallee 39 in 2014 showing the alcove seen in Figure 18

Figure 20-My Uncle Franz, my Aunt Susanne & my grandmother Else Bruck, née Berliner, Easter 1935, standing in front of Kastanienallee 39

Figure 21-In 2014, me standing in front of Kastanienallee 39 in virtually the same spot as my relatives stood in 1935

Readers can draw their own conclusions on how the decrees issued by the National Socialists, following Adolf Hitler’s appointment as German Chancellor in 1933, affected my aunt and uncle. Clearly, however, they resulted in my uncle being dismissed as professor from Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität (Humboldt University of Berlin), then likely compelled my aunt and uncle to sell their home and eventually emigrate after paying an “exit tax.” As the two subsequent Blog posts will make clear, my aunt and uncle’s nightmare at the hands of the Third Reich did not end with their departure from Berlin.

REFERENCE

Delphia, Rachel and Jewel Stern

2015 Silver to Steel: The Modern Designs of Peter Muller-Munk. Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh & Prestel Verlag, Munich/London/New York.