Note: Beginning with this post, I embark on a series of articles about my distinguished second cousin twice removed, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (1872-1937), and his family. By virtue of a fortuitous contact with a German doctor, Dr. Tilo Wahl (Figure 1), I obtained copies of hundreds of images of private papers, photos, and personal effects once belonging to Dr. Bruck. These items offer insights into my relative’s remarkable life including photos of people in my ancestral tree whose likenesses I never expected to find. In this and subsequent posts, I describe the circumstances by which Dr. Wahl obtained these things and some of what I have learned from them.
Related Posts:
POST 68: DR. JULIUS BRUCK AND HIS INFLUENCE ON MODERN ENDOSCOPY
POST 68, POSTSCRIPT: DR. JULIUS BRUCK, ENGINEER OF MODERN ENDOSCOPY-TRACKING SOME OF HIS DESCENDANTS
POST 83: CASE STUDY USING THE UNITED KINGDOM’S “GENERAL REGISTER OFFICE” DATABASE TO FIND ANCESTORS
Increasingly, the inspiration for Blog posts comes from readers, typically from individuals descended from or acquainted with some of the people I have written about. This post stems from such an encounter and involves my renowned ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (Figure 2), formerly from Breslau, Germany [today: Wrocław, Poland]. Additionally, in recent days, I was contacted by Dr. Bruck’s twin granddaughters who I had not long ago learned had immigrated to Australia in the 1990’s but knew no way of contacting. Amazingly, they stumbled upon my Blog while I was in the midst of writing this post!
Ms. Madeleine Isenberg, my friend affiliated with the Jewish Genealogical Society of Los Angeles (JGSLA), once shared an article she wrote in 2012 for AVOTAYNU about helping a family decimated by the Holocaust reconstruct its history. As I was preparing this post, I recalled a quote from Madeleine’s article that seems relevant to this story on the nature of luck vs. fate: “Once I asked my cousin, the Chief Rabbi of England, Lord Jonathan Sacks, what he thinks about ‘coincidence versus beshert (predestination).’ His immediate response was, ‘There’s no such thing as coincidence, it’s all beshert.’” Another quote I have cited in previous posts by Branch Rickey, the former brainy General Manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers, may also be apt. He used to say, “Luck is the residue of design.” Regardless of whether the ensuing tale is the result of chance or destiny, a remarkable convergence of events resulted in learning about personal items once belonging to one of my ancestors and obtaining copies of all of them.
Let me provide some context. Dr. Walter Bruck (1872-1937) and I are second cousins twice removed. Walter’s grandfather, Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck (1813-1883), was my great-great-granduncle. Walter’s father was Dr. Julius Bruck (1840-1902), a noted dentist I wrote about in Post 68. Drs. Jonas and Julius Bruck and their respective wives, Rosalie Marle (1817-1890) and Bertha Vogelsdorff (1843-1917), are all interred in a restored tomb in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław, Poland. (Figures 3a-b)
Dr. Walter Bruck was married to a Johanna Elisabeth Margarethe Gräbsch (Figure 4), a non-Jew. Following Walter’s death in 1937, she remained with her half-Jewish daughter Renate Bruck in Breslau for a time until it became too dangerous in the era of the National Socialists. In Post 83, I described the great lengths to which I went to discover what happened to Johanna and Renate Bruck and eventually learned they immigrated to England and died there. It is not clear whether Johanna and Renate moved directly to England or relocated elsewhere to Germany first; I have found a fleeting reference whose source I can no longer recall suggesting they may first have lived in Erfurt, Germany in the state of Thuringia at the address Dammweg 9. (Figure 5)
Walter Bruck’s widow never remarried but through documents I obtained from the United Kingdom’s General Register Office and elsewhere, I learned she died in 1963 (Figure 6), and that Renate Bruck married three times and died in Ramsholt, Suffolk, England in 2013. (Figure 7) According to Renate’s death certificate, her son, Nicholas Francis David Newman, an offspring of Renate’s third marriage, was present when she died. Hoping to contact him, I scoured the GRO database, and sadly discovered he killed himself in 2015. His death certificate, which I also obtained (Figure 8), gives no indication he was ever married nor had any children. The trail thus ran cold, and I naturally assumed this would be the end of things. Good fortune would dictate otherwise.
Recently, through my Blog’s Webmail, I received an intriguing message from a German general practitioner named Dr. Tilo Wahl including several photographs. What promptly caught my attention were the attached pictures of Tilo Wahl sitting alongside Nicholas Newman (Figure 9), Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck’s grandson. Knowing Nicholas had committed suicide in 2015, I assumed these photos had to have been taken shortly before his death. After responding to Dr. Wahl, he would explain the circumstances of his meetup with Nicholas Newman eight years earlier.
Dr. Wahl is a member of the Association of Phaleristics. Unaware of what this term means, I learned it originates from the Greek mythological hero Phalerus (Greek: Phaleros) and the Latin phalera (“heroics”) and is an auxiliary science of history and numismatics which studies orders, fraternities, and award items, such as medals, ribbons, and other decorations. Tilo explained his interest in phaleristics stems from a childhood fascination with recent history and military history, which evolved into collecting Prussian decorations; later, his collecting interest expanded, and he began purchasing groups of awards belonging to individuals, which, in his words, convey a vivid personal history about the former owner.
It turns out that in around 2013, Tilo purchased at auction the medals once belonging to my distinguished ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck, from Walter’s grandson, Nicholas. Following the transaction, they met in person. To help provide context for the medals he had bought, Nicholas allowed Tilo to photograph many of Dr. Bruck’s personal papers and photographs and sold him other personal effects once belonging to his grandfather.
In the case of Dr. Bruck’s medals, it was clear to whom they originally belonged as they came with documentation. Tilo would later explain to me there exist old annual periodicals (e.g., “Handbuch für den Preußischen Hof und Staat” (a printed guide of the Royal Prussian court and administration); “Ranglisten der Königlich Preußischen Armee” (rank lists of the Prussian Army)) that were once published where persons in official positions and/or of higher rank were mentioned along with the decorations they were awarded. Clearly, for personalized medal groups Tilo purchases that come without attribution, these handbooks are most useful.
Once Tilo has the name of a person connected to a medal group in his collection, he tries to find out as much as possible about them, especially the circumstances under which the individual received the decorations. A collector friend of Tilo’s, knowing of his interest in the Bruck family, informed him of my Blog, and he contacted me through Webmail. This resulted in Dr. Wahl generously sharing with me hundreds of images of medals, papers, letters, telegrams, personal items, photographs, guest registers, etc. belonging to Dr. Bruck.
Among the items shared was a 19-page biography about Dr. Bruck’s ancestors and his early years. I enlisted the assistance of a German friend, Julia Drinnenberg, who recruited her brother-in-law to translate this typed document; I want to acknowledge Julia’s relative, Max Raimann, for his generous assistance translating Walter’s memoir. Unfortunately, the biography only goes as far as around 1894-1895 but it includes some entertaining snippets. It also has fleeting references to a few of Walter’s ancestors that provide a narrow firsthand account of mutual relatives about whom I knew little or nothing. Below I quote at length from his narrative and include a few parenthetical clarifications on some of what Walter reminisces about:
I was born on Sunday, the 4th of March 1872. I was the fourth of my parents’ children. At the time, my father was a private lecturer at the University of Breslau, where he later became the professor Dr. med Julius Bruck.(Figure 10) My mother was born Bertha Vogelsdorff. (Figure 11) At the time, we lived at Schweidnitzerstadtgraen 9, which is now the ‘Café Kaiserkrone.’
My eldest sister Gertrud died in infancy. My next sister was Margarethe. (Figure 12) She married Dr. Wilhelm Prausnitz (Figure 13), who was private lecturer in Munich. In this position he was awarded the ‘Pettenbkopferpreis’ for his research on the ability of rivers to cleanse themselves. He later became ‘Sanitätsrat’ [roughly translatable as ‘Medical Consultant’] and Director of the Hygienic Institute at the University of Graz [Austria].
My parents’ third child was Friedrich Wilhelm (Figure 14), who died of pneumonia which he contracted on a school outing at the age of 17 ½ in 1883.
I was the youngest child and want to describe my career. But first I would like to give some more information about the Bruck family. Our family lived for more than 200 years in Silesia. I was told that my great-grandfather owned a brewery. There were no further details that I could find out about him.
A brief footnote. Based on my knowledge of the Bruck family tree, I think Walter Bruck’s great-grandfather was Jacob Nathan Bruck (1770-1832), born in Pschow, Germany [today: Pszów, Poland] who died in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]. Jacob was married to Marianne Aufrecht, allegedly born in 1776, place unknown. Given my family’s connection to Ratibor and its association with the brewery and hospitality industries there, it is reasonable to assume these are Walter’s great-grandparents. Portraits of neither are known to exist.
Continuing.
However, I remember my grandfather on my father’s side [Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck] (Figure 15), though I was only eleven years old when he died. He was an excellent physician and dentist by the standard of the times. He published several scientific works, one of which was a textbook on dentistry which had already two editions. He was a leading figure in his field and was made a member of the Imperial Leopoldian-Carolingian Academy of Science in Halle (‘Kaiserlich Leopoldinisch-Carolinschen Akademie der Wissenschaften in Halle’), a special honor at the time.
Dr. Jonas Bruck’s brother, Dr. Moritz Bruck, worked as physician in Berlin and was the author of a book, ‘Über die Asiatisch Cholera’ (About the Asian Cholera).
Disappointingly, Walter Bruck makes no mention of my great-grandfather, Samuel Bruck (Figure 16), the middle brother of Dr. Moritz Bruck and Dr. Jonas Bruck. Samuel was originally a wood merchant before purchasing the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor in the mid-19th century, owned for three generations by my ancestors.
From the time of my grandfather all male members of the family turned to academic professions. This resulted through four generations in a desire for education that was a special mark of our family. With two exceptions, the female members of the family also married men with an academic education. This indicated a desire to continue living in the atmosphere in which they had been raised.
My father’s brothers should also be mentioned. Dr. Adalbert Bruck (Figure 17) was an ‘Amtsgerichsrat’ [Court Judge] and Professor Dr. jur. Felix Bruck (Figure 18) was a ‘Geheimer Justizrat’ [Privy Councilor of Justice].
About the family Vogelsdorff from which my mother is descended there is not much I can write. One of my mother’s brothers, Ludwig Vogelsdorff, acquired great wealth being a wholesaler in velvet, silks, and ribbons in Germany. As a result of inflation and the incompetence of his son and son-in-law there is not much left of the fortune.
Now to my person.
Childhood (Figure 19)
My childhood passed like that of most children from our class. There is not much I can tell. I supposedly had a wet nurse who liked cheese and alcohol. This did not apparently have a lasting influence on me since I do not have a particular craving for cheese or alcohol. On the contrary, I have always been moderate as far as alcohol consumption.
I like to recall one episode from my earliest childhood that took place at the so-called summer camps (Sommerquartiere). We moved to the camps during the summers when it got warmer. I have two particularly vivid memories. One of them took place in the Parkstrasse that was owned by Herr Quickert. Around a yard were arranged small houses, opposite which stretched an old unkept garden. In this building, which survives today unchanged, we lived. On another occasion we lived on a plot of land close to the Fürstenbrücke (bridge) on a large plot of land. That plot belonged to the banker family Alexander who were friends of my parents. On the day of our move there, I gave my parents an unpleasant surprise by falling off a swing while they were unpacking. Being sick I had to be put to bed immediately. The Parkstrasse was connected to the town by a horse drawn tram.
There is another pleasant memory of my grandfather [Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck] I like to recall. After lunch he would visit my father Dr. Julius Bruck’s office on Schweidnitzerstrasse opposite the theater. My late brother [Friedrich Wilhelm Bruck] and I went to meet him on the esplanade. If we were on time, we were invited to the Viennese café on the corner of Taschenstrasse and Neue Gasse. It was owned by the Cloin brothers and was so far as I know the first Viennese café in Breslau.
My grandmother [Rosalie Marle] (Figure 20) came from the family Marle, a renowned family from Upper Silesia. I still vividly remember her slipping us sweet morsels to which she was also partial. My grandfather had to keep a strict diet due to his frequent and severe bouts of gout. My grandmother died suddenly at the Café Pupp in Karlsbad [then-Czechoslovakia], while there with my Uncle Felix to enjoy the waters.
My grandfather died in 1883. He had just turned 70. Every year he got from the warden of the esplanade the first chestnuts, an unfailing remedy against gout. He always carried them in his pocket.
After these first childhood years which passed without any remarkable events, ‘real life’ began.
School Years
I entered [school] at the then-popular ‘Wanckelsche Knabenschule’. . .The headmaster was Herr Beisenherz. It was tradition that before his birthday a collection of money was made from all the classes. The profit was used to increase the silver treasure of the family Beisenherz. In return we were treated to streusel cake and hot chocolate on his birthday.
After that period, I became a pupil at the ‘Königliches Freidrichsgymnasium,’ founded by Frederick the Great, which was situated in the Karlstrasse and had a second access from the Schlossplatz. This access was very convenient because it shortened the trip from our flat quite considerably. Also the Schlossplatz was a favorite battle ground for fights with the pupils from the Realgymnasium. Brawls between both parties took place there.
The Friedrichsgymnasium had always been the school of choice for the family Bruck. My father and his brothers went to school there, so it was taken for granted that me and my brother Fritz were going there too. The staff there was quite a queer mixture.
The form master’s name in my first year was initially called Inowrazler, later Inow, and by the time I became his pupil he was known as Jahnow. His son was an Air Force officer who was shot down during WWI. Then we had a Professor Scharnweber, who had already survived several strokes which should in fact have disqualified him from teaching. Then we had a Professor Hirsch with a body like a flagpole and reddish hair that reached nearly to his shoulders. He greased it flat to the sides of his head. He wore glasses that sat at the tip of his nose. He had protruding lips and you would hardly call him a beauty. He wore a winter coat over his vest in summer as well as in winter. When someone had not done his exercises properly, he called out, ‘Sit down, you get a Noll!’ (he wanted to say ‘Null’ or zero). Therefore we nicknamed him ‘Papa Noll.’ He lived with his family near the school. His short, fat wife was an English woman, who often treated us to her singing.
Then there was the limping Professor Menzel and a Professor Michael who always carried a bunch of keys in his hand. During lessons he often pressed clenched fists against the first pupil’s desk. This was an invitation for us to wet the outer edge of the desk with ink. Thus his fingers were always black at the end of the lesson.
In the first years of school I was a good student which delighted my parents and teachers. That changed and my grades diminished, so I was assigned a private tutor, candidate of medicine Leo Wolf. He later became a physician in Metz and after WWI moved to Wiesbaden. He was not a particularly gifted tutor, a fact I used to my advantage. He was lame and walked with a certain rhythm with a stick. When I was in my ‘study’ on the third floor and heard him coming up the stairs, I would climb on the tile stove. When he finally arrived, I started negotiations concerning my homework. I stayed upon the stove until he had met all my demands.
Because my tutor was a romantically minded man, we would read the classics together. I was so enamored of Körner and Schiller that I decided to become a poet too. I even wrote a drama, ‘The End of the Orsini,’ unfinished, which is regrettably lost to posterity. If I obtained an acceptable grade on tests at school, I could attend a performance of a classic play at the theater. The first drama I saw was ‘Zriny’ by Körner. I was so thrilled by the performance I learned whole passages by heart. I can still recite them. My love for the German classics made me plan to study literature. Alas, that plan was never fulfilled.
I was made to dislike school because of the teachers, most of whom were old men, probably senile, who did not know how to kindle any interest in the subjects they were teaching. Thus, my grades slumped despite being gifted.
Before I continue describing my schooling, I would like to recount a little episode which happened during my fifth form in school. An eclipse was expected. Our class was to watch it from Crossen an der Oder, the town where my mathematics teacher was born. My father had given me a gold ten-mark coin. I spent some of it on several glasses of Kümmel (a caraway seed brandy) in a shop opposite the hotel. I must have arrived home in not quite a sober state. In the morning I turned up to watch the eclipse in my brand-new summer coat. Because of the overcast weather we did not get to see much of the eclipse. I was somewhat apprehensive about the reception at home because my coat had been stolen. Against all expectations my parents made light of the affair. When the garment turned up again, the good atmosphere at home was restored. A boy waiter at the hotel had stolen the coat when he noticed I was not quite sober.
Music was important in my parents’ home. My father played the organ quite masterfully. So it was destined I would play an instrument, the violin. At the time in Breslau there existed a music school, von Henschel in the Büttnerstrasse, where I was to learn the basics of playing a violin. It remained at the basics because playing the violin was just not my cup of tea. So I started to take cello lessons. My late brother had played the cello, so there was no need to buy a new instrument. Lessons were given by the then very popular cellist Heyer, with whom I took lessons until he hit me across my fingers with the cello bow. My next teacher was the first cellist of the Breslauer Ochesterverein Josel Melzer, with whom I made great progress and achieved acceptable ability.
My preference for German literature was promoted through a reading circle, where we read the classics with each person reciting a different role. We met each Sunday. The members of this circle have in large part been very successful in life. Fritz Gradenwitz became mayor in Kiel, Victor Loewe ‘archivrat’ (Keeper of the State Archive) in Breslau, Walther Freund the head physician of the Breslau Hospital for Infants, Fritz Leppman ‘medizinalrat’ (medical officer) in Berlin and Fritz Juliusburg Professor.
We would convene meetings in ‘Frey’schen Garten’ on Breiten Strasse. Participants included Christian Morganstern, Friedrich Kayseler, and occasionally Otfried Förster, the neurologist who later achieved international fame.
These glorious times ended abruptly when my grades fell through the pastimes my father characterized as ‘shenanigans.’ I was sent to live with my father’s former house tutor, Oberlehrer Bernhardt, in Striegau [32 miles west of Breslau] in 1887. I can still clearly remember my arrival in this beautifully situated town. On a sunny January Sunday it was bitterly cold, and an old-fashioned vehicle brought me and my parents to the house of the coppersmith Rückert on Jauerstrasse. The family Bernhardt lived on the first floor. With trepidation I accompanied my parents to the railway station, and I was left in a strange town.
Bernhardt was a great man, gifted as a poet, jovial, and an unparalleled educator. I followed him with all the enthusiasm of a 15-year-old, and we became the best of friends notwithstanding the large difference in age. As his wife was a high-minded person who made his life difficult, he seemed to enjoy my company. We went for long walks, made occasional detours to ‘Mutter Katzler,’ which his wife was not to know about. There we ate a big chunk of garlic sausage. Our walks usually ended at his local tavern as he was not averse to alcohol.
While I did not exactly harvest laurels in Breslau, I became quite a good student in Striegau, where the standards were not as exacting. The headmaster of the Progymnasium favored me and held me up especially in German language as a quintessential student. He was particularly taken with my ‘Lesetagebuch’ (a reading diary as a method of promoting reading) in which I entered quotations from the classics. And the poor, and in part dull, Striegauer students had to keep such a diary as well. But as they were not sure the purpose of a quotation these diaries often were unintentionally comical.
My cello playing continued in Striegau. The Kantor of the Catholic Church, a friendly old gentleman, gave me lessons. Alas, my stay in Striegau was only of a short duration. As the school was a Progymnasium, it did not have the last two years of a Gymnasium.
I next attended the Gymnasium in Jauer [39 miles west of Breslau]. My time there is not among my fondest memories though some amusing incidents took place. The headmaster was an excellent teacher though rather religious. Every day we had prayers before our lessons. Every fortnight we had to partake in a service in the beautiful old Friedenskirche. Overall he was quite a strange person. He kept a hedgehog as a pet. He still wore an upturned collar, which was kept in place by a tie, a long black frock coat, and wore his eyeglasses so he could peer over them at you.
The food was not very good, especially on Wednesdays, when ‘Bierfleisch’ (literally ‘beer meat’) was served. This was the mixed remains of the entire week, beer, beef tallow, etc. It was the fiendish invention of the Frau Direktor, the headmaster’s wife, and spread its undefinable odor in all rooms of the school. On Wednesday afternoon there were no lessons. To compensate for the dreadful meal, after lunch we headed straight for the baker von Fliegener on Marktstrasse for coffee and cakes. Near the station there was a pub where we played billiards and passed the time.
In our boarding house, it was a tradition to pilfer a bottle of ‘Haase-Exportbier’ every night. In the hall of the headmaster’s flat there was a cupboard with this noble beverage. We had a key to this cupboard, so naturally we helped ourselves.
Professor Armbuster, our Greek and German teacher, was a terrible person whose wrath I incurred. He resembled a faun [a man with a goat’s horns, legs, and tail] with a scraggly beard, who was squat of stature, had evil looking eyes and a monstrous mouth, and of course wore spectacles. He wanted to get his revenge on me for some misdemeanor I had committed during a Greek lesson. In the sixth form we had to deliver presentations of Greek texts in German. While translating Herodutus, I had used a cheat sheet from which I delivered my translation, unaware that Professor Armbuster had the same cheat sheet on his desk. As a punishment I was compelled to deliver an essay on a book by Herder that was completely incomprehensible for a sixth form student. The first difficulty was obtaining a copy of the book. With a lot of trouble I got it through the local bookstore. Professor Armbuster probably expected me to turn to him for advice on how to proceed but I refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead I produced such an idiotic essay my fellow students were hard put not to burst out laughing during my presentation. The whole performance was such a disaster, the professor chased me from the pulpit and was so mad I thought he would strangle me.
But my time in Jauer finally came to an end. By then I had given up the idea of studying literature and turned to studying dentistry. I had been encouraged by my father and grandfather. My father qualified as a professor with the later famous anatomist Waldeyer as a physician and dentist. In 1871 he became a private lecturer in dentistry at the medical department of the University of Breslau. With his own money he founded the first dental university institute in Germany. He supported it until it was nationalized in 1890. With nationalization, the teaching was divided into three parts. Professor Carl Partsch became the head of the surgical department. Dr. Wilhelm Sachs, an exceptionally capable and well-known dentist, became head of the division for conservation. And my father became head of the division for dental prosthesis. By then he had been promoted to full professor.
My father published a series of scientific essays which quickly earned him a reputation in professional circles. He invented the stomatoscope for examining oral cavities and the urethroscope for examining the bladder. In all standard textbooks on urology he is mentioned as a pioneer in this field.
The dental institute which for economic reasons was called ‘provisional’ was housed in unbelievably primitive rooms in a flat on Feldstrasse. The furniture consisted of the equipment from my father’s private practice, by far not up to date anymore, and old stuff the university wanted to get rid of. It stayed there from 1890 until 1901, when it was moved into the university’s former eye clinic. This is where it still is now (1936). In spite of the deficient accommodations a lot was achieved there, and I received an excellent education.
Sachs had good connections to Austria. Thus, many colleagues came to Breslau as the training of dentists in Austria left much to be desired. I got on quite well with Sachs. My undeniable manual dexterity piqued his interest, and I learned a lot from him. Later, we became good friends. For a short time I joined the ‘Akademmisch Zahnärztlichen Verein’ (Academic Dentists Club). But I did not feel comfortable there, so I resigned from the club.
Twice I took part in some academic fencing. Once I mauled a chap named Levin quite badly while I did not even get a scratch, a feat known as ‘unberücht abstehen’ (stab untouched). In another encounter with a student named Ziegel from Görlitz I was scarred on the forehead.
On the 30th of November 1892 I passed my state examination in dentistry with the grade ‘gut’ (good). While studying I did not have much fun. My father insisted strictly that I occupy myself either as observer in his surgery or work in the laboratory. This I had to do everyday after working in the clinic of Carl Partsch which took place in the morning. It got much worse after I passed my exam for which I am grateful to this day.
Following my exam I worked in my father’s clinic until I was called up for military service. This was a one-year enlistment that began on the 1st of October 1893. I joined the artillery regiment von Peucker. We lived in the barracks in a house [in Breslau] on a corner, first with the widow Zeidler and later one floor below with the widow Mischke. I quite enjoyed a soldier’s freedom of life. The first battery to which I was assigned enjoyed a great reputation. The commander, Hauptmann Braune, was a benevolent superior with a gigantic mustache. Though I would not claim special soldierly merits my equestrian abilities must have been satisfactory, as I was selected as so called ‘Teten’Reiter’ (head rider), an important position in my company. At the time, I became a private first class. On the 1st of July I was promoted to sergeant. It was with great pride that I carried the golden insignia on my collar and cuffs walking down the Schweidnitzerstrasse. My promotion to sergeant marked the end of my military career.
After my year of military service, I returned to work in my father’s practice, and diligently learned English. Because of the advances of American dentistry, my father wanted to send me to America for further education. My English tutor, Mr. Dance, equipped me with a good mastery of the English language. With the aid of a warehouse catalog, he taught me the names of all objects depicted. The ‘Baltimore College of Dental Surgery’ was the oldest institution of its kind and considered to be the best. It was decided that I would take a postgraduate course there.
Regrettably, Dr. Walter Bruck’s biography abruptly ends here. I have quoted at length from his memoir for several reasons. Rarely do I come across my ancestors’ firsthand accounts of their lives, so Walter can assuredly much better relate his personal story than I can. His academic grounding in literature imbue his accounts with levity and amusement, even though much is likely lost in translation. Walter comes across as a gentleman with a pleasant, waggish humor. His accomplished father and grandfather were clearly influential in Walter deciding to become a dentist rather than study literature. Finally, his encounters with renowned academicians and fellow students who would later go on to become very accomplished highlight the intellectual milieu in which he grew up and was educated.
As mentioned, Dr. Wahl sent me dozens of images of papers, news articles, and photos from Dr. Bruck’s personal effects that shed further light on his life. February 28, 1925 marked the 25th anniversary of Walter’s appointment as lecturer in dentistry at the University of Breslau and at the same time his resignation from the position as head of the department at the Dental Institute. On this occasion, a celebration took place lecture hall of the Dental Institute to mark Dr. Bruck’s tenure and many accomplishments.
His photo album include dozens of telegrams, letters, and personal notes Walter received marking the “Dozenten Jubiläum,” lecturer’s anniversary. His scrap book also contains contemporary newspaper accounts of the event that provide a chronology of major events in his life. (Figure 21) Walter obtained his license to practice dentistry in 1892, enrolled in the Baltimore College of Dental Surgery in 1895 where he obtained the degree of Doctor of Dentistry in 1896. In 1900 he succeeded his mentor Professor Wilhelm Sachs as teacher of dentistry and department head at the University of Breslau’s Dental Institute and became a member of the dental examination board. In 1908 he obtained the title “Professor” and in 1912 was awarded the silver medal by the Central Association of German dentists. During WWI, from October 1914 to August 1917, Walter headed a dental department at the fortress hospital in Breslau, and in 1917 went to Bucharest, where he worked as a consulting dentist for the Romanian military administration (Figures 22a-c) and later in the same capacity worked at the high command of the so-called von Mackensen Army Group. (Figure 23) In 1919, he became a member of the commission for the dental doctoral examination board, and in 1920 received his PhD. in medicine. In 1921, he received the lofty title of “extraordinary Professor,” then from October 1923 to October 1924 he was the Deputy Directory of the Dental Institute at Breslau University.
As mentioned, Walter’s “Jubiläum” took place in 1925 but no newspaper accounts postdate this time than can inform us about his later life. Some materials exist from which inferences can be drawn, but, in the interest of abbreviating what is already a lengthy post, I will tell more of Walter Bruck’s personal life in future publications. However, a few other things are worth mentioning here.
During Dr. Wahl’s meetup with Nicholas Newman in 2013, he learned about and spoke to Renate’s best friend growing up, a German countess named Ina Gräfin von Schaesberg née Weinert (b. 19 Mar 1926, Breslau). Thinking I would be interested in speaking with her, Tilo called her and happily learned she is very much alive. Tilo put me in touch with Ina, and ever since we have had a very lively and productive exchange. (Figure 24) Like many Germans escaping the advancing Russians towards the end of WWII, Ina and her family were able to salvage very few mementos when they fled Breslau in 1945; however, among the items Ina managed to save are a few pictures of she and Renate Bruck as children, which Ina graciously shared with me. One was taken at Renate’s 10th birthday party on the 16th of June 1936. (Figure 25) Another, of the two of them performing in a school play, shows Ina dressed in black playing the role of a prince, and Renate dressed in white as a princess. (Figure 26)
Ina shared a particularly interesting rumor about Walter which I am inclined to believe is true. Walter died at the relatively young age of 65, and the scuttlebutt circulating at the time was that he committed suicide; he apparently did this to save his non-Jewish wife and half-Jewish daughter from being persecuted and/or murdered and having their property confiscated by the Nazis, a fate that inevitably awaited them. In future posts I will have more to say about Walter’s religious upbringing.
Towards the outset of this post, I mentioned to readers the coincidental email I received only this week from Nicholas Newman’s twin sisters after they stumbled on my Blog. I knew of their existence solely because Ina had mentioned them to me but had no expectation of finding them because they had immigrated to Australia in the 1990’s leaving no trace I could find. Ina could only recall their first names, Francesca and Michele. Regardless, as we speak, I am in the process of learning more about them as well as their grandfather from some of his memorabilia and dental equipment they retain; these may overlap with what Tilo already sent, assuming the twin girls inherited Nicholas’s belongings after he died. Almost immediately after hearing from Francesca and Michele Newman, I sent Ina an email letting her know. Like me, she was thrilled. She went to her photo album and retrieved some endearing images from October 1966 when Ina went with her two boys, Friedrich and Philipp, to visit Renate and her three children in Elstree, outside London. (Figure 25) Stay tuned for further developments!
REFERENCE
Isenberg, Madeleine. “The Rotter Relic.” AVOTAYNU, vol. XXVIII, no. 4, winter 2012, pp. 27-31. www.avotaynu.com
